So agreeing, the gentlemen departed the room, Mr. Bingley trailing behind carrying Mr. Wickham’s pistol. The sight of the weapon surprised Elizabeth, for had Mr. Wickham possessed it earlier that day he would have used it. He must have convinced one of his former colleagues in the regiment to part with it orstolen it.
“What a wicked young man he is!” exclaimed Lydia.
“Wicked Wickham is a good name for him, Lydia,” agreed Mary with a decisive nod.
No one other than Elizabeth saw anything unusual in the two Bennet sisters most likely to argue agreeing in such a manner. There was no reason to comment, so Elizabeth held her peace, as the ladies in the room fell into quiet conversation in groups of two or three. The lone exception was Lady Catherine, who remained silent and pensive, though her frequent glances at Anne spoke volumes.
In time, a pair of maids arrived to clean the shards of broken pottery from the floor, and the gentlemen returned about the same time. Mr. Bennet, observing the actions of the staff, turned a grin on Elizabeth.
“I must say, Lizzy, that I appreciate you taking your vengeance on Mr. Wickham’s head with a vase that no one will miss.” Mr. Bennet turned to his wife. “I do not even recall where we procured that piece.”
“It was a gift,” replied Mrs. Bennet, proving ladies possessed a better memory for such details than their husbands. “Letitia visited Mr. Philips’s family in Gloucester many years ago and brought it back as a gift.” Mrs. Bennet sniffed. “I cannot count the number of times our girls almost knocked it over when they were children.”
“Ah, yes, I remember something of that.” Mr. Bennet winked at Elizabeth. “Then I am pleased it survived long enough to be put to good use. Now that it is no more, we shall need to consider what to put in such a position of honor.”
“I suggest you place the shards in a glass display case and put it right back where it belongs,” quipped Colonel Fitzwilliam. “It has seen to the ultimate downfall of George Wickham which is honor enough.”
Mr. Bennet chuckled and nodded. “Perhaps you are correct, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
Mrs. Bennet appeared scandalized, but she wisely said nothing, seeming to sense it was nothing more than jesting. Then the gentlemen turned to more serious matters.
“Lady Catherine,” said Mr. Darcy, “we determined it would be best for you and Anne to go to Netherfield while Fitzwilliam and I await the constable. Bingley has consented to escort you there.”
“As I said before,” added a grinning Mr. Bingley, “Netherfield Park is not Pemberley or Rosings Park, and Mrs. Nichols will need to hire more staff, but it is comfortable with enough rooms to house you all. It would be my honor to host you.”
“Very well,” said Lady Catherine, nodding regally. “Let us depart at once.”
“It may be best to send for your clothes from Rosings,” observed Mr. Darcy. “I do not think you brought anything with you.”
“Yes, well,” said Lady Catherine. “Fortunately, I possessed the forethought to plan for that eventuality. A carriage followed me to London with effects for both Anne and myself. It will be at the house in London, waiting for further instructions. Tomorrow we may journey there, for we must return to Rosings, regardless.”
“I do not intend to return to Rosings at present, Mother,” said Anne. “Send an express and instruct the driver to come to Netherfield, for I wish to stay here. If that is agreeable to you, Mr. Bingley.”
“I would not have it any other way, Miss de Bourgh,” replied a cheerful Bingley.
Lady Catherine appeared desperate to say something, but in the end, Colonel Fitzwilliam interrupted her.
“This is not the place for such a discussion, Lady Catherine. Let it wait until we gather at Netherfield.”
With unmistakable ill grace, the lady subsided, though shecast several reproachful looks at her daughter. The decision to retire to Netherfield made, those departing rose and expressed their regrets, though offering their thanks—Lady Catherine only grunted in a vague approximation of such. Of course, Mr. Bingley could not retreat without taking a few minutes to converse quietly with Jane, and Anne stood with Elizabeth speaking for several minutes. When word arrived concerning the carriage, the Bennet family and the two gentlemen remaining behind escorted them to Longbourn’s entrance, and wished them a good night, waving as the carriage disappeared into the oncoming gloom. Then the remaining party returned inside to await the constable.
With Jane still in a dreamy state about the return of her beau and Kitty and Lydia sitting together with their mother—Mary sat with a book open in her lap—Elizabeth settled for contemplation as the gentlemen congregated in a group of their own. However, Mr. Darcy surprised Elizabeth, as he eschewed the company of Colonel Fitzwilliam and her father, and instead came to sit by her. Mrs. Bennet’s scrutiny did not escape Elizabeth’s attention—though she had deplored Mr. Darcy before, her opinion must have improved, much like Elizabeth’s own. What her mother might think or how she might act worried Elizabeth, but she knew there was little reason for her worry. If Mr. Darcy did not already understand Mrs. Bennet’s character, it would surprise Elizabeth to learn of it.
“Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy in greeting as he sat next to her. The gentleman eyed her a moment then offered: “I had thought to thank you again for dealing with Wickham, but I sense such gratitude would not be welcome.”
“It appears you are learning, Mr. Darcy,” replied Elizabeth, grinning at him. “I received thanks enough for the moment.”
“Then I shall not offer them, except to state how proficient you are with a vase in hand. Many times, I considered the benefitsof restraining Wickham using physical means, but the occasion never arose for such a perfect opportunity as that you seized with both hands.”
Elizabeth nodded, but her thoughts had taken a different path altogether. “Perhaps I atoned to a certain extent for my behavior, Mr. Darcy.”
“How do you mean?” asked Mr. Darcy, mystified.
“Would it surprise you to know that I have always prided myself on my ability to sketch the characters of others?”
With a sigh, understanding the thrust of her statement, Mr. Darcy nodded. “Do not concern yourself too much, Miss Elizabeth. Wickham has made deceit the practice of a lifetime.”
“Perhaps he has,” replied Elizabeth. “I should have been more suspicious, for one does not relate such personal matters to an acquaintance of only two days. Even if I could not detect the falsehoods in his communication, his eagerness to speak of it should have put me on my guard.”
