“I thought you may want to avoid me in the future and gave you the means by which to do so! How could I explain your presence when you rarely spoke? And you must remember, I was not pretty enough to even dance with.”
“Did you not realise I came to the parsonage to be near you?”
“Charlotte suggested you were partial to me, but I always laughed at the idea. Even she admitted that, although you looked at me a great deal, she could see little admiration in your gaze.”
“You must have been utterly amazed to see me that evening,” he breathed. She reminded him of her own hubris and errors in judgment, but neither would hehear of this. Elizabeth then decided to tease him and told him there would be another assembly on the night of the next full moon.
“And if you come, you need not dance with me nor sit again near Mrs Long. You might play cards with the old men who do not care for frivolity.”
“I do not recall Mrs Long.”
“You sat close to her for half an hour without opening your lips. We thought she made you angry by speaking to you, and perhaps you chose not to speak to her because she does not keep a carriage.”
His shoulders fell. “I must have continually given offence wherever I appeared.”
“You will not act that way in the future. And there is an excuse for some of your pride. One cannot wonder that so handsome—that one with family, fortune, and everything in his favour should think well of himself.” Elizabeth coloured at nearly calling him a handsome man to his face. She changed the subject to one point on which she wanted advice.
“I want to be told whether I ought, or ought not, to make my acquaintance in general understand Mr Wickham’s character. He deserves to be exposed, but if I endeavour to undeceive people, who will believe me? I would not disclose Georgiana’s particulars, and as to the rest, the general prejudice against…”
“Is there a general prejudice against me so violent that the people of Meryton could not place me in an amiable light?”
Elizabeth said nothing, for he was not incorrect, but she reached over with her hand and laid it on his upper arm as they walked along.
“It is due to my reserve that Mr Wickham’s character has been so misunderstood, and he consequently has been well received.”
“It is not your responsibility to follow Mr Wickham through the world and warn the unsuspecting populace,” she assured him.
“To have his errors made public might ruin him forever. I admit this would please me, but I would not make him desperate while he is near to you, nor would I expose my sister. Mr Wickham will soon be gone, and therefore it will not signify to anybody here what he really is. Have you spoken with him since you returned home?”
“I have been in his company, but we have not had a conversation. I no longer take pleasure in finding myself selected as an object of his idle and frivolous gallantry. The officers will dine here on their last day in Meryton, and then we may part forever.”
They walked in the spring sun in silence, and she wondered if he was loathing the existence of George Wickham or rejoicing in her presence. She supposed it could be both. After a time, Elizabeth asked after her favourite dance partner, and upon realising she was not referring to himself, Darcy responded that Georgiana was well and had returned to her own establishment with Mrs Annesley.
“It is a pity she does not have sisters or cousins close to her own age.” She wondered if perhaps his sister was a little lonely.
“Her companion is with her, and Georgiana is often part of a large party of mine that includes women who are fond of her.” Elizabeth gave him a knowing expression. “Yes, those ladies may not be interested in Georgiana for the sake of her friendship.”
“Do you intend to return to Longbourn again before Netherfield is open?” She tried not to betray how impatient she was for an affirmative reply.
He smiled and said, “I am already eager to visit again.”
“Then you must bring your sister when you return. I think a household of five daughters sufficient to educate Georgiana on the wonderfulness of sisterly companionship, and she might take a liking to one of them. I have a surfeit of sisters, and she may take one back to London with her, should she choose it.”
Mr Darcy frowned and made no answer, and she was disheartened. Would he tolerate her younger sisters for her sake but not permit Georgiana to know them? She withdrew from his arm and walked in quiet introspection. His manners may have improved, and he may have promised not to mention his former misgivings, but it all meant nothing should he shield Georgiana from her relations.
No matter the strength of her new affections for Mr Darcy, she would not allow herself to be courted by a man who could not respect her family.
Darcy was lostin thought as Elizabeth spoke of enjoying Georgiana’s company at Longbourn. He knew Georgiana to have bouts of melancholy and loneliness since Ramsgate. She had been eager to throw herself away and threaten her family’s reputation by eloping with Wickham simply because he claimed to love her. Professions of love to an innocent, orphaned girl were a powerful incentive.
He would not allow for the possibility of her encountering Wickham. He might seek to ingratiate himself again, to say nothing of the distress it could cause her to even lay eyes on the scoundrel. Once the regiment was removed, it would be safe to bring Georgiana to Hertfordshire to further her acquaintance with Elizabeth and her sisters.
Elizabeth had dropped his arm and was striding purposefully toward the house. He lengthened his gait to catch up with her. She seemed displeased, and he guessed that he had made some sort of error, although he knew not what. A mistake in his tone? In his judgment? Had he presumed something he ought not to have? He had been silent, but somehow Elizabeth seemed irritated.
Darcy felt his heart being trampled underfoot with each step she took and did not know whether to proceed in silence or blatantly ask her why she suddenly avoided him. Nothing had prepared him for how to enquire about the innermost thoughts of a woman with whom he had no understanding and who now seemed disappointed by him. Ultimately, he chose discretion, and they entered the house without a word.
Darcy judged that the meal might have gone worse, and other than Miss Mary’s inelegant solemnising about female virtue, there was little said that would offend. Mrs Bennet and Miss Lydia spoke of Brighton while Miss Catherine complained of her mistreatment. Miss Bennet engaged him in conversation, but he was too preoccupied with Elizabeth’s silence to better acquaint himself with the woman his closest friend was likely to marry.
The worst part of the visit, in Darcy’s opinion, was the conversation between Mr Bennet and Elizabeth in the parlour after the meal. Before Mr Bennet withdrew to the library, Elizabeth asked to speak with him privately, and he said, “No, no, my library is my own, but speak with me over here away from your mother’s voice.”
