Yet further words seemed unnecessary. Mr Wickham appeared to have inferred as much from her awkward brevity as though she had said all. “I see. Well, then, you will understand when I tell you that the gentleman and I did not part ways amicably.”
“What happened, if you do not mind my asking?”
Mr Wickham sighed. “I do not wish to play the victim, but his father promised me a living in a parish near Pemberley. It was always my wish to join the church. But when the late Mr Darcy passed away, the son refused me the living, even when it came available.” He gave a sad smile. “And now I am forced to make my living in His Majesty’s armed forces, a lowly foot soldier. Indeed, I am too lowly even to be noticed.”
Elizabeth’s heart went out to him. “I am sorry, Mr Wickham. How terrible it must have been for you.”
He shrugged it off as if his sufferings were nothing. But Elizabeth’s anger towards Mr Darcy was doubled. His rude and inaccurate judgement of herself was meaningless compared to so immoral an act. “Why would he do such a thing?”
Mr Wickham seemed hesitant to explain further. However, after a few quiet moments, he glanced at her, as if to see if she was trustworthy. He looked ahead again, and she was struck once more at his handsome features. “His father loved me better, and he never got over it. Jealousy is a very dangerous thing, Miss Bennet.”
In the next moment, the others rejoined them, and all confidential conversation was necessarily at an end. In the silence allowed her by Lydia’s chatter, Elizabeth thought how very charming Mr Wickham was, how very different from the serious, sour-faced Mr Darcy. With his amiable manners and charming smile, Mr Wickham was likely to do very well in Meryton.
∞∞∞
“Darcy, my good fellow, what has you so down in the mouth?” Bingley asked. He raised his glass of wine from the head of the table, calling everyone’s attention to Darcy’s lack of engagement.
Thankfully, the company comprised only Mr Bingley, his youngest sister, Caroline Bingley, and his eldest sister and her husband, Mr Hurst. Bingley had insisted on welcoming him back to London with a supper party, and while he was glad to see his dearest friend, Darcy almost wished he had not accepted.
It was a matter of only a few hours by carriage between Meryton and London, and yet Darcy found himself wearier than the miles would suggest. He was heartsore, perhaps. It was not only worry over Georgiana. His behaviour to Miss Elizabeth Bennet had been unforgiveable. However wrong her actions, she was still a lady. Darcy found himself wishing he could go back and undo — he hardly knew what he would undo. If not what he had said, then how he had said it.
“Forgive me, Bingley,” Darcy said, raising his glass. “I am listening.”
“I was only asking how your stay in Meryton was,” Bingley replied.
“Yes, is it as dull and backward as we have heard?” Caroline Bingley asked. Her sister and her brother-in-law immediately joined in with her laughter. Miss Bingley was always making jokes at other people’s expense. The lady seemed to think it made her appear charming and witty. Darcy would have said rather ill-natured and unkind.
“No, not backward. It is not as lively as London, by any stretch of the imagination. But they enjoy a tight-knit community.” Darcy did not know why he felt the need to defend Meryton, but he did. Perhaps it was Miss Bingley’s condescending tone. She had never stepped foot in the place, and yet she was quick to pass judgement.
“Darcy says that there is a house close to Meryton that would serve well as a country home for us. I think I shall travel there with him and look it over,” Bingley said with a smile. His bright red hair flopped from side to side as he spoke in his animated way. His fair, freckled skin and broad smile made him appear the boy more than the man. But he was quickly growing into his spurs. If only his sisters would stand aside and give him the credit he deserved, he would soon come into his own.
“Charles, you cannot be serious? A country house in Hertfordshire? Why on earth would we leave London?” Miss Bingley protested.
“If you dislike it, then stay here with our sister. I should like to find a place to stay during the hunt. And I hear that the community is very charming. Did not Miss Darcy say so in her last letter?” Bingley took a sip of his wine, then dug into his meal once more.
“It is very quaint. But then again, I enjoy the country. I believe you would, too, Bingley.” Not to mention that it would make future visits to Georgiana far more pleasant if he could look forward to the society of his closest friend at the same time. Darcy busied himself with the second course. He had not the appetite he should have exhibited after a long journey. It was as though the food soured in his mouth as it made its way to his stomach. And Miss Bingley’s manners were not helping.
Elizabeth would never have been so rude. He imagined her sitting beside him. She had been reading a book the last day he had seen her, the day things had gone so terribly wrong. The novel was a particularly interesting one. Though not yet half through himself, Darcy already knew he would not regret having acquired it for Pemberley’s library. He wondered what she thought of it, whether she would enjoy the author’s elegant prose and uncommon insights.
Darcy quickly pushed the thought aside. He should not be thinking of her, or at least not in any connection beyond a rightful indignation for her manipulations. That was more difficult than Darcy would have guessed. It was all too easy to forget her sins and remember her finer qualities, despite his best efforts to remain distant. While he sat listening to the others, he could not help comparing Miss Bingley with Elizabeth. She was kind, quick-witted, and loyal. Or so he had thought before Mrs Younge had told him otherwise. He should not be thinking of her as one of the loveliest and most charming women of his acquaintance.
How fickle was the heart? His mind told him to stay away, but his heart would not listen.
After supper, Darcy, Mr Bingley, and Mr Hurst stayed back in the dining room to enjoy a glass of port while the womenwent through. Mr Hurst lit his pipe, while Bingley and Darcy refrained. Darcy did not much care for the smell of tobacco, but chose not to comment.
“Here now, since the ladies are no longer in earshot, what really happened in Meryton, Darcy? Something has put your mood off,” Bingley said.
Darcy was reluctant to say anything in front of Mr Hurst, knowing that it would be immediately repeated to his gossip of a wife. “Nothing, Bingley. It is only that I wish my sister could have been prevailed upon to accompany me.”
Mr Hurst snorted. “You are her guardian, Darcy. What has Georgiana to say about it? She will go where you tell her to go.”
Darcy grimaced. Mr Hurst’s children were still young. He would have to hope that the man learned better of his dictatorial bent by the time they were older. He did not seem to interest himself much in them, preferring to leave his son and daughter to the care of a nursemaid and governess. “Naturally. But where Georgiana expresses a preference, and I do not think it injurious to her education or future happiness, I prefer to indulge her.”
“And why did she change her plans? I know Caroline was eager to see her again. She dotes on her like a sister, you know,” Bingley said, leaning back in his chair.
Darcy knew just how much Miss Bingley wished to make Georgiana her sister, not only in friendly affection, but by marriage. She had been shameless in her pursuit of his attention since the time she had first come out in society. Darcy endured her company for the sake of her brother, but marriage was out of the question. While his family might have objected to her for her antecedents, Darcy found a far greater obstacle in the lady’scharacter. Her sharp tongue had made up his mind to that very quickly. Indeed, two siblings could not be more unlike. Bingley was open-hearted and jovial, while Miss Bingley was callous and often rude. She seemed to delight in pointing out others’ flaws.
She and Elizabeth could also not be more unlike, he mused. But that was folly. Elizabeth was only the better actress. In actuality, she must be just as venial and cold as Miss Bingley. He looked down at his hands, swirling the contents of his drink. “She wanted to come and see you all, and I hope to bring her in the spring. But she was making some friends in Meryton and did not want to leave.”
