Chapter 15
“Captain Carter,” Lydia screeched and ran off to meet the officer in his red coat. Mindless of the other non-uniformed man who stood with, and whom Lizzy knew to be a stranger. Elizabeth had no interest in impressing her cousin. But she wished that Lydia would behave with more propriety.
“Miss Lynda,” the Captain agreed her with a bow. “Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth and Miss Kitty. How nice to see you.”
“Allow me to introduce our cousin,” Jane replied. “Mr Collins, may I present Captain Carter.” The two men bowed to each other.
Captain Carter then did the service of introducing the gentleman who stood beside him. He was tall, but not a tall as Mr Darcy. He had hair as dark and thick as that gentleman’s. And it had a wave in it which was very similar. Elizabeth had to own that Mr Darcy had the handsomer face. But the gentleman introduced as Mr Wickham, had an open and engaging countenance. Which, in Elizabeth’s opinion, made him more attractive that Mr Darcy.
He smiled and bowed and made expressions of how to delighted he was to meet them all. And Elizabeth found herself quite charmed. Captain Carter informed them that Mr Wickham was joining the militia, as a Lieutenant. Lydia and Kitty made sounds of glee to hear he would soon be attired in regimentals.
Elizabeth saw the look of joy on Jane’s face and was unsurprised to see Mr Bingley approaching by horseback. Mr Darcy was beside him on a mount four hands taller and of the darkest black Elizabeth had ever seen. She had not heard the horses approaching over her youngers sisters’ squeals. Mr Bingley jumped from his horse on seeing them. Elizabeth saw Mr Darcy twitch as if he too intend to do the same, but on seeing Mr Wickham he merely nodded and rod on. She turned to look at Mr Wickham who had gone quite pale.
Jane make the introductions to Mr Wickham and their cousin Mr Collins. Mr Bingley stayed speaking to them, particularly Jane but remembered to include the remainder of the party occasionally. After some minutes in discussions the ladies excused themselves to continue on to their Aunt Phillip’s house and the office retreated to their barracks.
Elizabeth met Mr Wickham again the next night. Her Aunt and Uncle Phillip had invited the militia officers to attend a card party. And on Lydia’s request the offer was extended to Mr Wickham. Who had now become Lieutenant Wickham. And Elizabeth had to own that he looked very well in his red coat.
“You took note I think of the cold looks between myself and Mr Darcy.” Lieutenant Wickham opened a discussion that, in all politeness Elizabeth would not have dared.
“I did,” she confirmed.
“We grew up together,” he said.
Elizabeth’s eye went wide. She was surprised at this statement, but that was just the beginning.
Lieutenant Wickham continued, “his father was my godfather. But as you can see we are not on friendly terms, and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for avoiding him, but what I might proclaim to all the world—a sense of very great ill-usage, and most painful regrets athis being what he is. His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had; and I can never be in company with this Mr. Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a thousand tender recollections. His behaviour to myself has been scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him anything and everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the memory of his father.”
“Disgracing the memory of his father? Who could he do such a thing,” Elizabeth asked.
“A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have now made it eligible. The church ought to have been my profession—I was brought up for the church; and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we were speaking of just now.”
“Indeed!”
“Yes—the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. He was my godfather and excessively attached to me. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given elsewhere.”
“Good heavens!” cried Elizabeth; “but how could that be? How could his will be disregarded? Why did not you seek legal redress?”
“There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have doubted the intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt it—or to treat it as a merely conditional recommendation, and to assert that I had forfeited all claim to it by extravagance, imprudence, in short, anything or nothing. Certain it is that the living became vacant two years ago, exactly as I was of an age to hold it, and that it was given to another man; and noless certain is it, that I cannot accuse myself of having really done anything to deserve to lose it. I have a warm unguarded temper, and I may perhaps have sometimes spoken my opinion of him, and to him, too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very different sort of men, and that he hates me.”
“This is quite shocking! He deserves to be publicly disgraced.”
“Some time or other he will be—but it shall not be by me. Till I can forget his father, I can never defy or expose him.”
Elizabeth shook her head, “I had not thought him as bad as all that,” she said. But could not help recalling Mr Darcy’s own words. He had proclaimed that he could not forgive others their offences against him. He had told her himself that his temper would be called resentful. He has as much as told her that he was such a man as would do exactly, as Lieutenant Wickham had vouchsafed to her that he had done.
Who was she to doubt the words of Lieutenant Wickham, when Mr Darcy himself had confirmed their veracity.
“Come Lieutenant Wickham,” her Aunt called him away from their conversation. “You must be my partner for a hand of whist”.
Elizabeth did not get to speak to Lieutenant again that evening. But she saw her youngest sister Lydia flirting most outrageously with him. She sighed, at the impudence of her behaviour. But Lieutenant Wickham on seeing her looking at them, gave her a look which reassured her that he viewed Lydia as but a child. Elizabeth was reassured that no harm would befall her young sister. Lydia, for all her forward ways, was an innocent. But her womanly figure and vivacious character, gave quite a different impression to those who did not know her.
Elizabeth related the details of the conversation to her sister Jane that very night. She knew not how to believe that Mr. Darcy could be so unworthy of Mr. Bingley’s regard; and yet it was not in her nature to question the veracity of a young man of such amiable appearance as Wickham. The possibility of his having really endured such unkindness was enough to interest all her tender feelings; and nothing therefore remained to be done but to think well of them both, to defend the conduct of each, and throw into the account of accident or mistake whatever could not be otherwise explained.
“They have both,” said she, “been deceived, I dare say, in some way or other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps misrepresented each to the other. It is, in short, impossible for us to conjecture the causes or circumstances which may have alienated them, without actual blame on either side.”
“Oh Jane,” Elizabeth said taking her sister’s hand. “You can’t have it both ways.” But even as she said this she knew that she would not change Jane’s mind, nor her nature.
When Elizabeth related the details to her father. The expected reception was quite the opposite to what she expected. Her father believe none of it. “Think what you will Lizzy,” he responded in the end. Having failed to dissuade Elizabeth from her belief.
All thoughts of Mr Darcy’s poor treatment of Lieutenant Wickham were soon pushed to the rear by the delivery of invitations to a ball at Netherfield.
