“I noticed no particular inclination on Mr Darcy’s or Miss de Bourgh’s side,” Elizabeth continued, deeply bothered by the subject of conversation. She should not even care; after all, she had violently rejected Mr Darcy and called him the last man in the world she could ever marry.What difference does it make whom he marries instead?
“Charlotte said Mr Darcy would never show any outward preference towards anyone,” Maria replied. “Though there was a time when she suspected Mr Darcy had shown some special attention to Elizabeth, but then she realised she was wrong, and we both laughed about it. Mr Collins was quite upset — he said we are not to joke about Mr Darcy and that he would never show any attention to anyone so below him.”
“Mr Collins is rarely wrong,” Elizabeth answered more harshly than she wished to. “Besides, he would never laugh at anything remotely connected to Lady Catherine.”
“And why would he?” Maria asked in all seriousness. “He owes his present felicity and situation in life to her ladyship. This is nothing to jest about, Elizabeth!”
“How fortunate that neither Mr Collins nor Lady Catherine can hear us,” Elizabeth responded.
“I believe we all need to rest a little,” Mrs Gardiner said. “I shall take the children to the nursery, and I shall meet you again in a couple of hours.” Despite her gentle tone, the conversation was brought to a firm close, and each of the ladies withdrew to their rooms.
Once alone in their chamber, Jane embraced Elizabeth again.
“I am so happy to see you, Lizzy! And I look forward to hearing everything you can tell me about Mr Collins and Lady Catherine. I sense there is much more to be said beyond Maria’s endless praise. And what about Mr Darcy? How did it happen that he was there at the same time as you? It might have been unpleasant for both of you.”
Elizabeth laughed lightly. “Fear not, dear Jane. I shall regale you only with all the absurdities — Mr Collins’s fawning, Charlotte’s quiet endurance, and the colonel’s amiable chatter. As for Mr Darcy, it was a strange coincidence, but not as unpleasant as one would expect. As for the rest…well, some tales are best left for quieter moments.”
“Did…Mr Darcy mention anything about Mr Bingley?”
“Not much,” Elizabeth replied hesitantly. “But I was under the impression Mr Bingley is not currently in London. I confess I did not enquire further — I did not want to leave the impression we cared about that gentleman more than we should. Was I wrong?”
“You were not wrong…” Jane whispered, her voice heavy with regret, a painful reminder that she was still grieving for the unworthy and undecided Mr Bingley.
Elizabeth longed to confide in Jane about the letter, about the tumult in her heart, but the words stuck in her throat. How could she burden her sister with Mr Darcy’s revelations when Jane’s own hopes had been so cruelly dashed and her heart was still in pieces? And what could she tell her? The subject of Miss Darcy was not to be revealed to any living soul, and Mr Darcy’s interference in separating her from Mr Bingley would only hurt Jane more.
“There is something I learnt in Kent that might shock you. Something about Mr Wickham,” Elizabeth said, then suddenly stopped at a knock on the door. Mrs Gardiner entered, smiling widely.
“Girls, may I enter? The children are all asleep, and hopefully so is Miss Lucas. I hope we might have a little time to chat by ourselves.”
“Of course, Aunt,” Elizabeth answered, and the ladies all took seats by the fireplace.
“Lizzy was just about to tell me something about Mr Wickham,” Jane said, and Mrs Gardiner widened her eyes, then frowned.
“I hope you did not do anything imprudent, Lizzy. I know you favour Mr Wickham, but you should consider—”
“Dear aunt, do not worry. The only imprudent decision I made was to give Mr Wickham more credit than he deserved when we first met. I have recently learnt that his character is as faulty as his manners are charming and that he is inclined towards deception just as he is inclined to smile.”
Both her companions stared at Elizabeth in shock.
“What could you possibly mean, Lizzy?” Jane asked, dumbfounded.
“That Mr Wickham has all the appearance of goodness but not much real goodness in him.”
“But how? What could you have learnt to cause you such a drastic change of heart?” Mrs Gardiner asked, her brow creased in confusion.
“I shall tell you, and you may judge for yourself,” Elizabeth replied.
With a moment of hesitation, a deep breath, and a careful choice of every word, still uncertain whether she was correct in making the disclosure, Elizabeth revealed the details of Mr Wickham’s past dealings with Mr Darcy.
As she spoke, her sister and aunt looked increasingly surprised, puzzled, and appalled. Even without any mention of Miss Darcy, Mr Wickham’s history with Mr Darcy was enough reason to disgust any honourable person.
“Dear Lord! Are you certain there has not been some sort of mistake?” Jane asked.
“I am utterly certain. Mr Darcy himself told me when I confronted him about his cruel behaviour towards Mr Wickham. You can imagine how ridiculous I felt once I understood that I had been deceived.”
“Dear Lord!” Jane repeated. “You confronted Mr Darcy? Why did you do such a thing, Lizzy? Poor Mr Darcy! And Poor Mr Wickham! Could he truly be so vicious? He appears so kind, so amiable…”
“Perhaps that is the worst part,” Mrs Gardiner said, her voice sharp. “That Mr Wickham possesses a few good qualitiesthat he skilfully uses to conceal his vicious character. I confess I did not suspect him in the slightest. I found him nothing but charming when I met him in Hertfordshire.”
