“Because of the reverence you hold for his father,” completed Elizabeth. “Yes, yes, I am aware of this already, Mr. Wickham. If you will pardon my saying it, I wonder when this discretion you claim will appear.”
Mr. Wickham smiled and shrugged. “It is so easy to speak to you that I forget myself. You are correct; I should not speak on the subject.”
“Yes, I dare say you should not. Given your choice of subject these past fifteen minutes, I must suppose you have nothingto say, for you have scarce spoken ten words together without referring to Mr. Darcy.”
“Perhaps you would like to offer a topic of discussion,” replied Mr. Wickham.
“Not at all. In truth, I would prefer that you leave me be.”
The man appeared wounded, false, of course. “I apologize, Miss Elizabeth. I had thought we were friends.”
“Were we friends when you spoke such disgusting words to me at Sir William’s party?”
“Nothing more than a misunderstanding!” cried he. “I would never speak to dishonor you—I hold you in the highest respect!”
“You will forgive me if I express doubt,” rejoined Elizabeth.
“No one warned me of the potency of Sir William’s punch.”
“Perhaps not. But as I have had occasion to inform Lydia these past days, a man often reveals his true self when strong drink compromises his inhibitions.”
“Miss Elizabeth,” said he, “I would ask you to refrain from saying anything about my character; you know little about me.”
“Those are perhaps the first truthful words that have passed your lips since we became acquainted,” replied Elizabeth, her severe gaze at him never wavering. “Since you have revealed private details to a woman with whom you are scarcely acquainted, I must wonder at your character.”
“If you would know more about my character, I should be happy to reveal it.”
Mr. Wickham reached out to take her hand, but Elizabeth was too quick, pulling the appendage away before he could grasp it. Far from offended, the man only offered her a gallant bow.
“I feel a particular regard for you, Miss Elizabeth, such that I would ask for a chance to prove myself. Though I am but a poor soldier, it is said that love can conquer all, is it not?”
The audacity of the man was beyond belief. “No, Mr. Wickham, I think not. I know not what sort of woman with whom you consort, but I am not such a woman.”
“There appears some meaning in your words that you have not stated. Shall you not speak openly?”
Elizabeth offered the man a thin smile. “Nothing at all, Mr. Wickham. I am a gentleman’s daughter, and you are only the son of a steward. Unfortunate though it is for you, that is a most unequal connection. Besides, you could not support a wife as a member of a militia company.”
“Ah, then I am too poor for you.” The man put a hand over his heart. “It is the lot of a man in my position to be found wanting for his lack of wealth. Can I suppose you expect the likes of Darcy to propose to you? Would that satisfy your mercenary heart?”
“Not at all, Mr. Wickham. When I spoke of my disinclination for Mr. Darcy, I was not dissembling. All I ask is for a man my equal in society, one who can support me and our children.”
“Then you will pardon me if I doubt your abilities, Miss Elizabeth. Given the size of your father’s estate and the number of daughters he must provide for, I cannot imagine you have much of a fortune.”
Elizabeth shrugged. “You know nothing of us; we may have a wealthy relation who has provided dowries to us all.”
The way Mr. Wickham regarded her, Elizabeth was certain he was attempting to discern whether she was telling the truth. Perhaps she should not bait him, but Elizabeth could not repent her actions. It was nothing more than a bit of proof of the man’s mercenary ways, an irony given what he had said to her only moments before.
“If youhave, then I offer my congratulations.” Mr. Wickham paused, then gave an insouciant shrug. “As there appears no chance of earning your good opinion, I shall leave you to yourdowry, whatever its state, and fix my attention on other, more promising prospects.”
Elizabeth recalled the man’s sudden interest in Miss King at Lucas Lodge when the details of her inheritance became public knowledge.
“You have amused me a vast deal, Mr. Wickham.” Elizabeth fixed the man with a smirk. “After you all but accused me of mercenary tendencies, you have proven yourself nothing less than a fortune hunter.”
“Do you suppose a man must be altruistic in the search for his life’s partner?” asked Mr. Wickham. “It is the way the world works, Miss Elizabeth. A man must pay some attention to money, for to allow the violence of his feelings full sway may end in penury.”
“As must a woman,” replied Elizabeth. “I wish you well, though I do not give you much chance of success.”
“Oh?” There was an edge in Mr. Wickham’s voice now. “And why is that?”
