Wickham’s manipulative nature struck her at that moment. She had not even voiced her concerns, yet he called them insignificant. He only emphasized her supposed fear of discovery, urging haste, taking no thought for the immense step she would take if she went away from him. It was becoming clearer that she had never known him as well as she believed.
“Do you truly mean to marry me?”
As first questions went, it sounded insipid to Lydia’s ears. Wickham, however, regarded her, attempting to present the perfect image of affection, but giving the impression of condescension.
“You know I wish for nothing more. I might wonder whence this sudden caution arose, Lydia; have I not made my affection clear?”
Lydia ignored his question. “What of the debts I have heard spoken of in town, obligations you did not discharge before you departed for Brighton?”
It appeared she caught him off guard for his disguise slipped, only to be returned to place at once. “Nothing more than disagreements, I assure you. When I am at liberty, I shall speak to the merchants and clarify matters.”
“How do you clarify such things? Either you have paid your debts, or they are still outstanding. No other interpretation exists.”
“There may be many other interpretations,” said Wickham. “It is all a misunderstanding.”
“And what of your position in the militia?” demanded Lydia. “I cannot imagine Colonel Forster has allowed you time enough away to travel to Gretna and back.”
“The colonel did not stop me.”
Full of doubt, Lydia stared at Wickham. The answers to her questions were not answers at all, rendering his claims nothing more than obfuscation.
“Tell me, Mr. Wickham,” said Lydia, feeling fury sweep into her breast, “do you mean to deflect my questions, or will you eventually answer one of them?”
“I have answered them, Lydia, my dear,” said Mr. Wickham, his façade turning brittle. “It is unfortunate, but you as a young lady having led a sheltered life can understand nothing of my world. Allow me to consider such things and you will be much happier. Now, let us depart.”
Lydia glared at him and shook her head. “You are exactly what Mr. Darcy said you were.”
This got Wickham’s attention, for he dropped all pretense at congeniality. “Darcy? What has that insufferable prig to do with anything?”
“Insufferable he may be,” spat Lydia, “but at least he is not a liar.”
Wickham regarded her for a long moment, apparently trying to make her out. “I believe I see. Darcy lied to Miss Elizabeth of me, and like a good little fortune-hunter, she returned from Kent full of his tales. It is typical, I suppose, though I might have thought better of her.”
“Lizzy isnota fortune hunter!” cried Lydia. “You are a liar, a thief, and a libertine, and I will have nothing further to do with you.”
Being thwarted prompted Mr. Wickham to show his true colors, for an ugly expression twisted his lips. “You are quite amusing, little Lydia, but the time for talk has passed. I am afraid you must come with me whether you are willing or not.”
“She will go nowhere with you!”
Around the corner, the scene heartened Elizabeth rather than feeding her fears for Lydia. The girl stood arms akimbo, her back to them, but Elizabeth had seen that posture enough times to know of Lydia’s displeasure without seeing her face. It seemed she had taken something of what she had heard to heart and learned to be skeptical. It had certainly served her well.
When Elizabeth spoke, denying the libertine his prey, Mr. Wickham started with surprise, so much that he froze. A protective urge for Lydia, the girl who had determined to go her own way since she was ten welled up within Elizabeth’s breast, provoking her to step to Lydia’s side and join her in facing down Mr. Wickham. Jane took her station on Lydia’s other side, as the three sisters stood united.
“I am all astonishment,” said Mr. Wickham, regaining something of his senses. “Miss Elizabeth and Miss Bennet.” The sneer came easily to his lips as he jibed: “Are Miss Kitty and Miss Mary about somewhere too, perhaps waiting in my carriage? I am afraid I cannot takeallof you.”
Elizabeth shook her head at the man, unwilling to say anything to him she did not need to. This seemed to embolden him, for he flashed her a smile he expected would drive rational thought from her mind.
“I am, of course, happy to see you again, Miss Elizabeth. How fortunate that you have come upon us.”
“Fortunate is it?” asked Elizabeth, her arched eyebrow displaying her skepticism.
“It is,” said Mr. Wickham, “for I have longed to see you again. We parted much too soon in May.”
Lydia huffed her annoyance with him while Jane said nothing, watching him warily as if he were an adder. That was an appropriate description for the man, for he was nothing less than a snake in a gentleman’s clothing. Even his comely smile, which had once been handsome in Elizabeth’s estimation, was revealed as nothing more than a veneer to hide the depravity of the man behind it.
“Our parting was welcome, though it did not happen early enough for my tastes,” said Elizabeth, wiping the smile from his face. “It would have been better had you never come to Meryton.”
The man instantly appeared injured. “So, Iwascorrect; Darcy filled your ears with lies and you accepted them.” Mr. Wickham shook his head dolefully. “I had higher hopes for you, Miss Elizabeth, for I did not judge you one to put a man’s fortune above common decency.
