“Do you think he is so far gone?” asked Jane, without appearing shocked.
“I do not think we can afford to trust in his good behavior,” replied Mary.
“Yes, that is true.”
Then Jane gasped and pointed. Mary followed her gesture and noted that not only had Lydia slunk away from Elizabeth, Kitty in attendance speaking urgently to her, but Mr. Wickham had approached Elizabeth and was now looming over her. Elizabeth’s defiance was not unexpected, but the sight disquieted Mary even more.
“Come, Jane. Lizzy needs our support.”
Jane said nothing, only nodding and moving toward the pair with Mary. Whatever Mr. Wickham was about, Mary would not allow him to do her sister harm.
“LIZZY HAD NO RIGHTto speak to me like that!”
Praying for patience, Kitty regarded her younger sister, noting that for once, Lydia appeared unable to meet her eyes.This entire business had opened Kitty’s eyes to the truth of the situation, that she need not follow Lydia’s lead, for she was capable of thinking for herself. In the matter of Lydia’s behavior that night, Kitty had no choice but to acknowledge that Elizabeth was correct—Lydia had been exceedingly rude, her spiteful comments beyond what anyone should endure.
“Elizabeth had every right,” said Kitty.
The way Lydia’s eyes shot to her in betrayal was satisfying. Lydia had been her constant companion for years, but she now realized that she had never respected Kitty either. Lydia was a selfish child who demanded Kitty's support while taking every opportunity to do whatever she wished. Her sister had been free with her belongings, confident that their mother would support her, took no thought for Kitty’s feelings, and danced through life with no consideration other than the next time she could flirt with the officers. Kitty was not about to allow this to continue.
“She had every right, Lydia,” repeated Kitty, allowing no room for protest. “If Papa saw how you treated Elizabeth tonight, he would confine you to your room for a fortnight.”
“Papa will do nothing,” replied Lydia, pouting at the reprimand. “He never does.”
“Papa does not concern himself with us much, but he does when he thinks it is necessary.
“Lydia,” continued Kitty, keeping her tone even, “whatever you think of this situation, you are the youngest sister and must defer to your elders. I know you think it is hard to be the youngest, but that is the way society works. I cannot conceive what you were thinking to speak to Elizabeth that way—you know that of all of us, she is the least likely to tolerate it.”
“She is being unreasonable about Mr. Wickham,” mumbled Lydia. “There is no proof he is a bounder.”
“Perhaps there is not,” replied Kitty. “Where there is doubt, prudence must rule.”
“I do not doubt Mr. Wickham’s goodness!” rejoined Lydia, her spirits once again rising.
“Then you have not considered it properly.” Kitty was proud of her firm voice in the face of Lydia’s recalcitrance. “Lizzy is right—we know nothing of Mr. Wickham. We should take care.”
“Well, it appears Lizzy is reaping the consequences for her unjust attacks.”
The satisfaction in Lydia’s voice made her long to wipe it away, but instead she turned to look across the room, seeing Mr. Wickham looming over Elizabeth, who watched him without the least sign of fear. For a moment, Kitty thought to support her sister, but then she saw Mary and Jane moving to stand with Elizabeth. With that evidence of sisterly accord, Kitty decided it was best to stay next to Lydia and protect her from her own imprudence. Elizabeth would handle Mr. Wickham—of this Kitty was certain.
“YOU HAVE BEEN BUSYof late,” said Mr. Wickham, the darkness in his gaze suggestive of the true man he kept hidden from the world. “I might wonder why you have defamed my good reputation, given our history of friendship.”
Elizabeth shook her head at his continued suggestion of intimacy. “I will remind youagain, Mr. Wickham—we are not friends. You fed me pretty stories at our second meeting, tried to charm me on other occasions, then turned your attention to Miss King the moment you learned of her inheritance. We are no more friends than I am engaged to my father’s stallion.”
“Yet you accepted my version without question.”
“Oh?” said Elizabeth, arching an eyebrow at his presumption. “Is it now your ‘version’? Did you not speak the absolute truth, or is there some other interpretation?”
Elizabeth nodded to Jane and Mary, who approached to offer support. They did not stand at her shoulder, facing him down, but their stance was clear, and Mr. Wickham did not miss it. The man paused, considering before he spoke again.
“I must suppose you learned another ‘interpretation’ while you were in Kent.” The man shrugged, a motion that was anything but uncaring despite his casual stance. “It is typical, I suppose, for a young woman to support the man possessing the greater consequence.”
“Ah, now the manipulation appears,” retorted Elizabeth. “As I now have cause to doubt your account, itmustbe because Mr. Darcy is wealthy and you are not.”
“Have you not set your cap at him? Has your opinion not altered because you hope to entrap him in your web?”
“What silliness is this?” demanded Mary. “Mr. Darcy is not even in the neighborhood, has not been here for months.”
“Did your sister not see him in Kent?”
