“Oh?” Mr. Bennet’s brows rose, mild interest lighting his gaze.
Wickham’s smile sharpened just a little, but he kept his tone light. “I have been stationed in several places, and met a good many people along the way.” He gave a brief, courteous nod toward Elizabeth without elaborating further.
Elizabeth blinked, feeling something uncertain twist in her stomach at the evasiveness, but she kept her tone smooth.
“Indeed? That must be...varied company.”
“Varied—and always educational,” Wickham agreed, his smile returning with easy charm. “Though never so fortunate as tonight.”
Elizabeth frowned faintly at the compliment, but Mr. Bennet chose that moment to clear his throat, steering the conversation on.
“And do you intend to make Hertfordshire your residence for long?”
Wickham spread his hands. “That depends on the regiment’s orders—and, of course, the hospitality of the county.”
“Well, here you will find plenty of talk and little money. So spend both carefully.” Mr. Bennet added with dry gravity, his mouth twitching.
Mrs. Bennet clucked her tongue at him. “Mr. Bennet! Really.” She turned, fluttering at Wickham. “Do forgive him, sir. He prides himself on such remarks.”
“On the contrary, madam,” Mr. Wickham said with a smooth laugh, “I consider it sound advice.”
Dinner was soon announced, and the company moved to table with the usual shuffling of chairs and rustle of skirts.
Elizabeth fell in beside Jane, offering her arm a quick squeeze.
“He is here for you,” she murmured, glancing toward Mr. Bingley.
Jane blushed but could not hide her shining eyes.
Elizabeth’s own gaze drifted briefly to Wickham, who scarcely glanced at Lydia—even though the girl’s eyes never left him.‘Silly child,’she thought with quiet exasperation.‘And you, sir? What exactly are you here for?’
Mr. Bennet led them all with grim satisfaction to the head of the table, gesturing them to sit with solemn courtesy.
“Well,” he announced once they were settled, surveying his guests with a kind smile, “let us see if you can all eat as well as you talk.”
The meal began with polite laughter and the low murmur of new introductions, while the November wind rattled at the windows, and candles flickered gently against the darkening glass.
Dinner began well enough, with the roast steaming and the candlelight brightening every glass and silver edge.
Mr. Denny quickly proved the more comfortable of the two officers in polite company, answering Mrs. Bennet’s eager questions with good-humoured patience.
“Indeed, ma’am,” he said, sipping his wine with measured care, “the colonel expects the regiment will remain quartered inMeryton through the winter. From time to time, the men will be very glad of the local hospitality.”
Lydia’s eyes danced. “Oh! Then there will be time enough for plenty of assemblies.”
Mr. Denny smiled indulgently. “I dare say we shall make ourselves agreeable, Miss Lydia.”
Mr. Bennet’s gaze flickered to Elizabeth, one eyebrow twitching in amusement as she hid her answering smile behind her napkin.
Across the table, Mr. Wickham sat at ease, but with an attention that Elizabeth found just a little too studied.
When Mrs. Bennet gushed, “And you, Mr. Wickham? How do you like Hertfordshire?” he smiled with a warmth that felt slightly rehearsed.
“Very well indeed, madam. The landscape is most inviting—though the company even more so.” His eyes landed on Elizabeth, and he offered her a quick, charming bow of the head.
Lydia looked cross at him.
Elizabeth inclined her own slightly in return, but there was a measured coolness to her look.
