“The trick is how to ensure you remain there for the night.”
Elizabeth almost groaned—she had been more correct than she knew.
“You will need to come up with a new maneuver, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet, vastly entertained by his wife’s excesses. “In November, you conspired to send Jane on horseback, but Idoubt our poor mare will appreciate carryingbothJane and Lizzy three miles to our neighbor’s house.”
Mrs. Bennet seemed to consider this—Elizabeth decided it was best to end the discussion before it went too far.
“We cannot possibly stay the night, Mama.” When Mrs. Bennet glared at her, Elizabeth stated clearly so she would not misunderstand: “When Jane went to Netherfield in November, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were both in residence. Now, only Miss Darcy is there, and she is not yet of age. She is a sufficient chaperone for a morning visit, but not for an overnight stay.”
“Well, if you put it that way...” mumbled Mrs. Bennet.
“Idoput it that way, Mama. Jane and I will go in the carriage and will return this afternoon.” Elizabeth softened a little and directed a smile at her mother. “You cannot claim that Mr. Bingley is not moving along charmingly without interference. Jane will be in his company today—that is the important factor.”
When Mrs. Bennet did not reply, Elizabeth knew she had won the point. Soon after, the eldest Bennet daughters boarded Longbourn’s carriage for the short journey to Netherfield Park.
The housekeeper led them to the sitting-room where Miss Darcy waited alone for them. After a warm welcome, she called for tea and invited them to sit. They conversed for several moments, the subjects banal, and though Elizabeth wished to ask about the gentlemen’s whereabouts, she decided it was best to leave the subject alone entirely.
The gentlemen entered the room at that moment, and it was clear to Elizabeth from their expressions of surprise—though quickly turning to pleasure in Mr. Bingley’s case—that they had not known about the sisters’ presence.
“Miss Bennet!” greeted Mr. Bingley, bowing over Jane’s hand. “How lovely it is to see you today. When did you arrive?”
“Only a few moments ago, Mr. Bingley,” said Georgiana, giving him a bright smile. “I hope you will forgive me for the presumption, but I wished for company today.”
“Of course, I am pleased to host the Bennet sisters,” replied he with a grin. “I was about to propose a visit to Longbourn myself.” Mr. Bingley beamed at Jane. “Now it is not required.”
“We are happy to visit, Mr. Bingley,” said Jane.
As was the gentleman’s custom, he soon began directing his conversation to Jane, and in time, he was all but ignoring everyone else in the room. Elizabeth looked on fondly, but when she caught sight of Georgiana’s satisfaction, she began to understand that her friend had counted on this. The conversation at the other end of the sofa was much more restrained, for Georgiana spoke of inconsequential matters, while Mr. Darcy said next to nothing. Then, Elizabeth saw Georgiana’s glance at Mr. Bingley and Jane, and she saw the moment she was assured of their inattention.
“Elizabeth,” said Georgiana, turning back to her, all trace of cheer absent, “I have a matter of some importance to discuss with you today. I hope you do not mind the subterfuge, for I know you have seen it—I enjoy your company, but there are certain things you must know.”
Though taken aback, Elizabeth understood at once to what her friend referred. “You are speaking of Mr. Wickham?”
“Georgiana,” said Mr. Darcy, frowning at his sister.
“No, William,” replied Georgiana, maintaining her calm demeanor. “Elizabeth must know about Mr. Wickham so she can protect herself. You saw how he singled her out at Longbourn yesterday.”
That Mr. Darcy did not agree was clear at once in the slight shake of his head. Elizabeth thought he might protest, but the gentleman grimaced and did not speak.
“Mr. Wickham mentioned something about a clerical living?” ventured Elizabeth, thinking to give her friend a place to start her recitation.
“That was not a bequest,” said Mr. Darcy, speaking with great reluctance. “Before his passing, my father mentioned the living to me but said nothing about it in his will. He left Wickham a legacy of one thousand pounds and asked me to assist Wickham in whatever profession he chose. The living was a suggestion, should Wickham have any interest in the church.”
Georgiana snorted, quite out of character for her. “I have since learned that the mere notion of Mr. Wickham as a clergyman is laughable. There are few men in the world less suited for such a life.”
Though bemused, Elizabeth pressed on. “Then you assisted Mr. Wickham in other ways?”
Mr. Darcy regarded her for several moments before responding. “My father must have mentioned the living to Wickham, as he approached me after the funeral and declared he had no interest in the church as a career. Instead, he proposed a more immediate... pecuniary advantage in complete confidence that I would agree, given my reverence for my father’s wishes.”
“Did you?” asked Elizabeth, though her question lacked the heat or skepticism that might have laced her own only a few days before.
With a weary sigh, Mr. Darcy nodded. “Yes, Miss Elizabeth, I did. I had some notion of setting up some sort of annuity naming him as the beneficiary from which he could withdraw reasonable amounts to cover his expenses. But I did not.”
Elizabeth waited, knowing he would say more. Mr. Darcy did not pause long.
“The reason I did not was that I could not support the notion of continuing to be responsible for him, and I suspect Wickhamwould have objected. Since we were boys, I have been cleaning up his messes one way or another. At Eton, I smoothed matters with several boys that Wickham offended in various ways, and in Cambridge, and later in Lambton, I paid off debts he had left there.”
Unable to believe what she was hearing, Elizabeth said: “Mr. Wickham is a debtor.”
