She began to worry he would not come, for surely Sir William had mentioned his guest when issuing the invitation, and if Mr Wickham had eschewed the Netherfield ball to avoid Mr Darcy, then it was not inconceivable that he would find a reason to avoid Miss de Bourgh as well.
At last, Colonel Forster arrived, with seven of his officers in tow, and Mr Wickham one of the party. He caught her eye almost immediately and sent her a small, private bow. The contented smile he directed at her lingered only a moment, however, vanishing when Sir William, with great ceremony, announced Miss de Bourgh’s presence. Elizabeth watched closely and did not miss that Mr Wickham blanched, just as he had the day he encountered Mr Darcy in Meryton.
In contrast, Miss de Bourgh seemed wholly unaffected, seemingly uninterested in any of the soldiers, let alone Mr Wickham in particular. Nevertheless, the manner in which he shrank back into the midst of his company made it seem likely thathebelieved there was good reason to avoid her notice.
Elizabeth rose to her feet angrily. Mr Wickham was the wronged party, and it was unpardonable that he should be made to feel unwelcome. She attempted to make her way to him, but Lydia anticipated her, pulling Mr Wickham into a dance almost immediately. After completing a reel with her, he then danced with Kitty, Miss Long, Miss King, and finally Maria Lucas before allowing himself to be drawn into a game of loo. Only when John Lucas gave up his seat at the card table half an hour later was Elizabeth able to get close enough to speak to Wickham.
He greeted her with a plaintive look and an entirely unnecessary apology. “I thought it best to avoid the guest of honour. I regret it has kept me away from you all evening also.”
“There is no need to apologise, sir. I completely understand, although I do not think you need to worry. Miss de Bourgh scarcely remembers you.”
He observably brightened at the news. “You are sure?”
“I am. She recalled your name and that you used to fish with Mr Darcy as a boy but no more.”
“That is a relief.”
“How so?” Elizabeth objected. “That she is ignorant of how her cousin has mistreated you is hardly something to be celebrated. It only means that Mr Darcy has concealed his abhorrent actions from all his relations.”
“Perhaps, but it means I shall not have to dishonour my godfather’s name by discussing his son’s misdeeds.”
It was not a perspective Elizabeth had considered. She grinned ruefully. “And there I was about to insist that you tell her everything and demand justice.”
He shook his head. “I have long since given up hoping for justice, Miss Elizabeth. I have learnt to survive well enough on what I have. It would only cause trouble were I to speak up now, and I hate to cause trouble. In fact, now that I can be sure there will not be any, why do we not go and speak to her?”
Elizabeth could hardly refuse, and she accompanied Mr Wickham to the sofa where Miss de Bourgh yet held court and presented one to the other in an odd exchange that was more of a reminder than an introduction.
“You look remarkably well, madam. Lovelier even than I recall,” Mr Wickham said, bowing low.
Elizabeth wondered at that. She had seen glimpses of Miss de Bourgh’s handsomeness, but the woman’s prevailing features were sallowness and hauteur, and this evening in particular she looked very ill indeed. It rendered Mr Wickham’s praise hollow and made her wonder what his real opinion had been when he said the same to her.
“Wickham!” Lydia shouted, dashing over to join them. “Tell me you are still coming to the Meryton assembly tomorrow. Lieutenant Denny said he was not sure whether you meant to.”
“Lydia, you are interrupting,” Elizabeth admonished.
“I shall be there, Miss Lydia,” Mr Wickham assured her.
“You knew my uncle well, I understand,” Miss de Bourgh said, entirely ignoring Lydia, who sighed loudly and stomped away to pester another unwitting officer.
“Exceedingly well,” Mr Wickham replied. “He was an excellent man.”
“He was—as is his son, who has grown very much in his father’s image.”
Elizabeth looked at Mr Wickham with pity, anxious that he might be pained by this, but he betrayed no hint of discomfort.
His smile was undiminished as he replied, “Well, if he is only half as honourable as his father was, then yours will still be an excellent marriage.”
Miss de Bourgh cast Elizabeth a triumphant look. Yet, with growing evidence of how difficult to please both she and her cousin were, Elizabeth was increasingly disinclined to think it a good match. Some of her doubt must have shown on her face, for Miss de Bourgh’s pride changed instantly to indignation.
“It will be,” she said haughtily, “and those who think otherwise are quite mistaken. Mr Collins?”
The rector hastened to her side. “Yes, madam?”
“I hear there is an assembly tomorrow evening in Meryton. I wish to attend.”
Mrs Jenkinson let out one of her expressive gasps. Mr Collins’s eyes widened in panic, and he swallowed hard.
“Miss de Bourgh, you know I would do anything to serve you well, but this wish, I fear, is not one I am able to grant. I must return to Hunsford tomorrow. The curate cannot stay beyond noon, and there is nobody else to?—”
