“Not at all. Only two or three cups, I assure you.”
Unable to claim a knowledge of how he had spent his evening, Elizabeth still looked at him with skepticism, having seen him without a cup in his hand only a few times the entire night.
“You know,” said he, stepping a little closer, “there is no woman in the room half so beautiful as you. Any man would count himself fortunate to receive your attention.”
“If you think that, I must assume you are blind, sir,” replied Elizabeth, keeping her tone even. “Jane is accounted the beauty of the neighborhood—I consider her so myself.”
Mr. Wickham threw a drunken glance at Jane, but his eyes found Elizabeth again far sooner than she liked. There was something altogether disquieting about the way he looked at her, something that suggested feelings more feral than simple admiration for a woman he found attractive.
“Tell me, Miss Elizabeth,” said he, stepping closer, “are you as passionate as you appear? With a skilled man, you might putthose passions to the test. I could teach you far more than the milksops in this neighborhood ever could.”
Elizabeth gasped and glared at the man, but before she could put him in his place or raise a hand to slap him, another intervened.
“That is quite enough, Wickham,” said Mr. Hurst, stepping forward to insert himself between Elizabeth and the officer. “You have had too much to drink, sir. Get your fellows to take you back to camp.”
For a moment, his cheeks became the red of anger, but soon he shrugged and stumbled away, leaving Elizabeth alone with her unlikely protector. The gentleman turned to her as Mr. Wickham retreated.
“That was curious,” said Elizabeth. “I have never seen him conduct himself in such a manner.”
“Strong drink will often reveal the inner secrets of any man,” said Mr. Hurst. “And some men wear masks before the world. I doubt Wickham wanted to reveal himself to anyone present, but if I may suggest, I would say it is for the best that you remembered this and took care in his company.”
Then Mr. Hurst excused himself and walked away, leaving Elizabeth to contemplate his meaning. When Mr. Hurst had spoken of Mr. Wickham earlier that evening, she had taken it as evidence that Mr. Darcy had not hesitated to share his version of his connection with Mr. Wickham. Now, Elizabeth was not so certain she had been correct. Perhaps it was best to stay wary around Mr. Wickham.
Chapter II
Jane Bennet was as mild a young woman as there was in the world. The eldest of five daughters, she had always considered it her place to provide an example for her younger sisters, and even if they did not always take her likeness, she was not one who sought the attention of others. Jane was in the habit of thinking the best of her fellow men—nor did she consider that a character failing. Elizabeth was the cynic between them, and Jane’s natural modesty and trusting demeanor balanced the sisters, each bringing insights and both trusting the other.
Not that Jane was unobservant or incapable of seeing poor behavior. Jane had always fancied that she possessed as much discernment as anyone else—she was just more willing to allow others to prove themselves than most, and Jane could confess to herself that she sometimes held to this opinion longer than she should. Case in point was the recent retreat of Mr. Bingley from Hertfordshire. Though they could not be certain until the truth was confirmed, Jane was coming to suspect that Elizabeth was correct when she named Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley the culprits in preventing Mr. Bingley’s return.
That was a subject about which Jane remained uncertain. If Mr. Bingley was such a man as to allow others to persuade him against his inclinations, was he a man worthy of receiving her love? If she were to marry him, would he put her needs first as a man must for his wife, or would he fall prey to his sister’s sibilant tongue whenever her opinion differed from Jane’s? There was little hope of discovering his mettle, though the astonishing return of Mr. Hurst told her the door had not yet closed.
The one thing about which Jane had excellent instincts and little tolerance, however, was any slight against her dear sisterElizabeth, and on that evening, she had witnessed something that did not seem right. As Elizabeth projected strength aplenty and did not allow others to affect her, Jane could not be certain, but she had caught a distinct sensation of discomfort from Elizabeth and had seen Mr. Hurst step in.
The actions of Mr. Wickham and Jane’s continued thought on the subject drove all consideration of Mr. Bingley and his failure to return from her mind. The party and the journey home offered no opportunity for Jane to confront Elizabeth on the subject, so she resolved to do so once they were in their rooms for the evening. As it was late and the family retired at once, she allowed only a few moments to pass before knocking on Elizabeth’s door.
As Jane expected, Elizabeth welcomed her with no hesitation other than a desire to retire for the night and related the event when Jane asked. Jane listened, becoming more affronted by Mr. Wickham’s behavior the longer Elizabeth spoke.
“To own the truth,” said Elizabeth when she completed her account, “I am uncertain if I find Mr. Wickham or Mr. Hurst’s behavior more astonishing.”
Though Jane had little opinion of Mr. Hurst, she did not hesitate to offer a few words in his defense. “Any gentleman of character would step in when confronted by such behavior.”
For once, Elizabeth did not protest. “As the event shows, in Mr. Hurst’s case, you are correct. I could have fended Mr. Wickham off myself, given the venue, but I appreciated his support all the same.
“The most puzzling aspect is not Mr. Wickham’s behavior, but Mr. Hurst’s comment.”
“Oh?” asked Jane, still angry with Mr. Wickham for his actions that night. “What did he say?”
“I do not recall his exact words, but he said something about strong drink revealing a man’s secrets.”
Jane contemplated what the comment might mean. “It sounds like Mr. Hurst knows something about Mr. Wickham.”
“Then he must have received this intelligence from Mr. Darcy.”
Though predictable, Jane was not happy with her sister’s continued insistence thatanythingconnected with Mr. Darcy must be suspect. “He appears to be correct, Lizzy. Did Mr. Wickham not accost you in a manner not worthy of any gentleman? Even I, who was not paying attention, noticed that Mr. Wickham drank more punch than he ought. His next actions resulting from excessive drink prove Mr. Hurst’s assertion, do you not agree?”
Elizabeth sighed. She was not above confessing error, though she little liked it. As Elizabeth’s observations were so often on the mark, Jane forgave her sister these minor lapses, but that did not mean she was about to allow Elizabeth to continue in the face of Mr. Wickham’s obvious worthlessness.
“It appears they were.”
