Lydia immediately agreed and left after giving Wickham a parting smile that he indulgently returned. The Bennet girls were pleasant and kind; they were the sort of young ladies to be generally liked, although their agreeableness was not like those of some women with endowments of a higher stamp. The eldest and the youngest had easy manners, excellent spirits, a large acquaintance, and a great deal to say. No wonder his timid sister loved them.
“How do you do, Darcy?” Wickham asked him.
He widened his eyes in reply. Why did he pretend they were acquaintances, as though they had anything to say to one another? He then realised that Elizabeth was still with them, but he was not in the mood to pretend even though she was present.
“You see that, Miss Bennet?” Wickham said, still looking at him. “He cannot bring himself to say one good thing to me, because my father worked for his.”
He took a calming breath and bit back all the reasons he had to dislike this poor excuse for a man. Feeling Elizabeth’s curious gaze, he said, “I had the greatest respect for your father. Pemberley’s steward,” he said to Elizabeth, assuming Georgiana had spoken of her home. “If I could always have a man as well qualified for my purposes as the late Mr Wickham, I should esteem myself fortunate.”
Wickham laughed. “That was nicely done. Who knew you had a way with words, after all? Is he not clever?” he asked Elizabeth. “He answers, and yet his disdain for me drips off his words.”
“I have reason to hold you in contempt,” he said tightly, “and some of those reasons are in your own handwriting.”
Wickham bit his lips and looked away. Elizabeth now looked as though she wished to be anywhere else. The silence stretched, and hewould have let it linger, but she tried to preserve them all in politeness. “Mr Darcy, are your plans to stay in Ramsgate still fixed? Your sister has so enjoyed having you here.”
He gave Wickham a hard look. “My sister and I will be returning to Pemberley sooner than planned.”
“I will be sorry to see her go,” she said, sounding as though sincerely meaning it. “She is a sweet girl, and we all have come to love her.”
She repeated the same question about staying in Ramsgate to Wickham, but he was glancing over the room. He started, then, affecting a pleasant manner, Wickham said to him, “I know my presence distresses you, Darcy, so I will leave once I part from my friends. Scenes might arise unpleasant to more than myself if I stay.”
To his lasting shock, Wickham bowed and said to Elizabeth, “I will go since I did what I came here to do, although I regret missing our dance.”
Had Wickham come purely to attend Lydia Bennet in the first cotillion? It seemed impossible that he could admire her. If Wickham had settled on the eldest Bennet daughter, or rather, the eldest one in Ramsgate, it would have made sense to him. She had remarkably pretty eyes, an attractive figure, and a playful manner, as well as a sense of decorum.
“I am amazed he came at all,” she murmured as Wickham walked away. “Do you think he came only to dance with Lydia, even if it meant facing you? He must be in love with her.”
“I do not believe it.” He bent down to look directly into her eyes. “He is the last man in the world any woman should marry. Do not let your sister trust him.”
His tone alarmed her; he could see it clear across her face. “Is he violent, Mr Darcy?”
That was the worst thing she could imagine, and he wished he could lie to her and agree. A violent temper would be reason enough, and far easier to explain than the truth. “No, he is never violent, but he is not…he is neither respectful nor cautious.”
He watched Wickham move about the room, and he felt those intelligent eyes of hers fix on him. Mrs Younge and Georgiana were withsome ladies on the other side of the dancers. Wickham was now in earnest conversation with Lydia, whose mother seemed to pay no attention to what her daughters did. They whispered and smiled for a long while, but Mrs Bennet took no notice.
Wickham left Lydia and went to another group, but stayed only a moment with them. Darcy suspected Wickham would acknowledge his sister in his circle of the room, but so long as Wickham was leaving, he could tolerate it—scarcely. But he did not like the admiring look his sister gave him. He would talk with Mrs Younge tomorrow morning. Regardless of Wickham’s notice of Lydia Bennet, he would remove Georgiana if Wickham remained in Ramsgate.
The fury at even having to speak to that man felt like it was clawing its way out of his chest.
“You must be averse to my falling in love in a watering place.”
Darcy whipped his head round to look at Elizabeth. “I beg your pardon?”
“Your scowling has frightened off at least two men who might have asked me to dance, and your quarrel with Wickham has also lost me a dance partner. At this rate, I will not find a husband by the end of the summer.”
He was about to argue before realising she was teasing him. Was she trying to improve his mood? At the least, she wanted to distract him. “I doubt anyone can fall in love on a seaside vacation, and I suspect that mere romantic notions are not enough for you to commit yourself. You seem too sensible for romance.”
Elizabeth looked a little hurt. “Well, I may not be like Lydia and Miss Darcy, but I have romantic notions along with the practical ones.”
Was he destined to say every wrong thing to this woman? Why did she make him so tense as to be insensible? If he was not careful, she might draw back from Georgiana to avoid her tactless brother. “Forgive me. Of course, as a woman of intelligence and feeling, you must also consider romantic considerations. What manner of husband do you want, even if you do not find him at a watering place?”
“Do you want a genuine answer, as I might give to a friend who was truly interested, or do you want the indifferent, polite reply I would give a matron in a drawing room?”
“I always want to hear the truth.” For some reason, he waited for her answer in a breathless state of palpitation.
“I want to not be neglected or left destitute. I want a husband who will not arbitrarily or tyrannically exercise his absolute power over me. I would like frequent displays of never-failing tenderness. He will probably need some forbearance too, for I am stubborn and lively.”
She meant to affront him with her honesty, but how could such a sweet and arch woman affront anyone?
