Louisa knew whomightknow more about the officer. With a decisive nod, she quit the room and went looking for her husband, finding him in the study sitting at her brother’s desk. Gerald looked up when she entered, a smile slipping in easily, a side of him that few ever saw of the man she married. Louisa could not claim a deep emotional connection to her husband and knew his feelings for her were no stronger, but there was respect and fondness between them, even if Caroline often ridiculed it.
“Gerald, what do you know of Mr. Wickham?”
Though surprise crossed his features, Gerald leaned back in the chair. Never one lacking understanding, even if his indolence did suggest a lack of interest or discernment, he spoke at once and confirmed his perception.
“Can I suppose the youngest Bennets spoke of him?”
Louisa nodded as she settled into the chair before the desk. “It appears you understand something of their characters.”
His snort spoke to his feelings with eloquence. “Even a man of little acumen would understand them in an instant. The question is how enamored with him they already are.”
“That is difficult to discern,” replied Louisa, “given they extol any man wearing the scarlet to the skies.”
“Yes, I suppose so,” said he with a nod. “The abundance of such men in the district at present may be their protection for the moment.”
“Then you know something?”
Gerald shook his head. “Darcy was rather close-mouthed about the man, though that is not surprising, as Darcy says little on every occasion. What he told me suggests Wickham is not a good man and has several unsavory habits. Beyond that, I do not know the particulars, though I know enough to understand it is best to keep him at arm’s length.”
“That is what I thought,” said Louisa, considering. “The question is how to use this information.”
With a grin, Gerald rose and rounded the desk, drawing Louisa up by the hand and leading her to the sofa near the fire. “What is happening in that devious mind of yours, my dear?”
Louisa arched an eyebrow. “Devious? Caroline would think you daft for suggesting such a thing.”
“Caroline’s inability to see it does not mean you are lacking. It just means that she is blind to it.”
“Nothing specific at present,” replied Louisa, deciding against pursuing that thought. “If this Mr. Wickham is what I suspect, there may be some danger to the town.”
“I thought you cared little for the neighborhood.”
“That is Caroline’s opinion,” said Louisa, her tone light and dismissive. “Perhaps I prefer other locations, but I have no dislike for Meryton.
“But that is of little matter. Is it not the duty of anyone who possesses knowledge that may assist others to share what he knows?”
Gerald considered this and nodded. “Yet Darcy has not seen fit to do what you suggest.”
“And I must suppose that Mr. Darcy has reasons for his inaction.” Louisa paused to consider the gentleman. “Even so, I do not suppose Mr. Darcy would allow others to suffer when it is in his power to prevent it. The question is what to do about it. Though we may make some inquiries, I suspect the greater impact would come from Mr. Darcy taking action.”
“With that, I cannot disagree,” said Gerald. “Then what do you propose?”
“Let me think on it for a time,” replied Louisa.
In truth, Louisa had a notion of how to proceed, but it was one fraught with danger. Gerald had already warned her of the potential for disaster, but that was nothing compared to how Caroline would react if she escalated the situation. Louisa had no particular reason to punish her sister, though Caroline deserved it, considering her behavior. Perhaps she could use the situation to help her sister see sense. If nothing else, perhaps she could end Caroline’s delusions forever.
JANE BENNET WAS NOTblind. Though some thought her sweet and complying, only able to see the best in others, Jane was not deficient. She attributed the best motivations to everyone she met, but she was not blind to poor behavior.
In the current circumstance, the more pressing issue was not a rosy outlook on life but knowing another so well that she could understand her moods with instinctive ease. Elizabeth was not only her closest sister, but her confidante, her support, and the dearest person in the world. Though Jane did not know theparticulars of Lizzy’s conversation with Louisa at Netherfield, she saw her sister’s distance, then her growing pique. In situations like this, Jane would often allow Lizzy to consider the matter, then raise it herself—Elizabeth often asked for Jane’s opinion. In this instance, however, she thought it best to speak of it at once. The opportunity came soon after their return from Netherfield, for Elizabeth sought her bedchamber to think.
“Lizzy,” said Jane when she gained entrance to her sister’s room not long after their return, “did something happen between you and Louisa at Netherfield?”
Elizabeth did not even bat an eyelash at Jane’s question. “I am not angry with Mrs. Hurst, Jane.”
“But youareangry with someone.”
With a shake of her head, Elizabeth sat in the chair before her vanity. “Mr. Darcy reaches out to vex me even when he is nowhere nearby.”
“Oh?” asked Jane, sitting on the edge of Elizabeth’s bed. “How does Mr. Darcy affect you even from London?”
