“I was about to send a reply,” Aunt Philips said. “Shall I inform her you’ll be returning shortly?”
“I—” Elizabeth began, but was interrupted by a knock at the front door.
A maid announced, “Lieutenant Wickham to see Mrs. Philips.”
Wickham entered, resplendent in his red coat despite the dismal weather. His handsome features registered surprise at encountering Elizabeth.
“Miss Elizabeth.” He bowed. “How fortuitous to encounter you. I was just thinking I should call at Longbourn to inquire after your family’s health.”
“Lieutenant Wickham.” She curtsied. “I fear you would find our household rather occupied this afternoon. My cousin Mr. Collins is making what he believes to be an important call.”
“Ah, yes, Miss Elizabeth was just returning to Longbourn,” Mrs. Philips announced, practically fluttering with excitement. “I was about to send word that she is here. Mr. Collins awaits her with the most particular intentions. A most advantageous match, securing Longbourn for the family.”
“How… fortunate,” Wickham remarked, studying Elizabeth’s face. “Though if I may be so bold, Miss Elizabeth does not appear entirely enthusiastic about this development.”
“Lizzy has always been strong-willed,” Mrs. Philips sighed. “She would do well to consider her family’s interests in this matter.”
“If you’ll excuse me,” Elizabeth said tightly, “I should depart for Longbourn immediately.”
She had no intention of returning home, but with only three pounds and seven shillings to her name—a sum Charlotte hadrightly deemed insufficient to reach Pemberley—her options were painfully limited.
“Then I shall have the great pleasure of escorting Miss Elizabeth,” Wickham offered with a slight bow. He glanced toward the darkening sky visible through the window. “A storm threatens, and it wouldn’t do for Miss Bennet to catch a cold before her… happy occasion.”
“How thoughtful you are, Lieutenant,” Mrs. Philips beamed, clearly delighted by his gallantry. “Lizzy, you must allow Lieutenant Wickham to see you safely home. I shall send word to your mother that you are on your way.”
“There is no need to trouble yourself, Aunt,” Elizabeth protested weakly, but Aunt Philips was already instructing the maid to fetch Elizabeth’s cloak and pelisse.
Minutes later, Elizabeth found herself walking beside Lieutenant Wickham through Meryton’s main street, her valise concealed beneath her cloak. Rain spattered the cobblestones, and shopkeepers hurried to bring in their outdoor displays before the approaching downpour.
“You seem troubled, Miss Elizabeth,” Wickham observed. “I hope your cousin’s visit brings you joy rather than distress.”
Elizabeth weighed her words carefully. “Mr. Collins’s visit has certainly brought my mother joy.”
“But not you,” Wickham noted, watching her face with unsettling intensity. “And yet a woman in your position might welcome such security. Longbourn entailed away, five daughters to provide for… many would consider it a sensible match.”
“I have never aspired to sensibility above all other virtues,” Elizabeth replied stiffly, wondering how to shake the officer who wanted to engage in idle conversation when she had plans to make… mainly finding a stagecoach or traveling companions.
Wickham’s laugh was genuine and warm, surprising her. “No, I cannot imagine you have. You strike me as a woman who values herindependence and her principles. Admirable qualities, if sometimes… impractical.”
They had reached the edge of town, the road to Longbourn stretching before them like a sentence of doom. Elizabeth slowed her pace, her mind desperately searching for some escape.
“Miss Elizabeth, might I have a word in private? What I have to say cannot wait.” Wickham guided her toward a sheltered alley between two buildings.
Elizabeth hesitated, glancing around at the nearly deserted street. “This is hardly proper, Lieutenant.”
“Forgive me, but propriety must yield to necessity,” he insisted, his expression unusually grave. “I assure you, this concerns a matter of the utmost importance.”
Against her better judgment, Elizabeth followed him into the relative shelter of the alley, maintaining a respectable distance. Her curiosity—and desperation—overrode her caution.
“You’ve received something recently,” Wickham said, his voice low. “Something that has disturbed your peace of mind.”
Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I think you do.” Wickham’s eyes never left her face. “A letter, perhaps? Something that has caused you to visit your uncle, the solicitor, with questions about inheritance law?”
“How could you possibly—” Elizabeth caught herself, narrowing her eyes. “You were listening at the door. How ungentlemanlike.”
“Not the door, but I happened on a late bloom of Michaelmas daisies, a mix of purples, blues, and pinks, underneath the window.”
