Chapter 4

T he next morning dawned bright and clear, a perfect day for an excursion to the market. The Bennet sisters, eager to enjoy the fine weather, made their plans over breakfast. Kitty and Lydia were particularly enthusiastic, chattering excitedly about the various wares and trinkets they might find.

Elizabeth, with her usual practical sensibility, suggested they could also purchase a few necessities for the household. Mary, and her dutiful self, agreed to accompany them, even though she expressed that she would have preferred to spend the day with her books.

As the girls prepared to leave, Mr. Collins, who was hovering nearby, suddenly announced his intention to join them. "A walk to the market would be most beneficial for my constitution," he declared, "and it would provide me with an opportunity to observe the local society."

Kitty and Lydia exchanged glances of dismay, but their protests were stifled by Mrs. Bennet, who saw nothing wrong in Mr. Collins accompanying them.

"Very well, Mr. Collins," Elizabeth said, concealing her reluctance with a polite smile. "We would be pleased to have your company."

Thus, the party set off, Mr. Collins walking alongside Mary, who appeared resigned to her fate, while Kitty and Lydia bounded ahead, their youthful exuberance unrestrained. Elizabeth followed at a more measured pace, reflecting on the events of the previous day while listening occasionally to Mr. Collins conversation.

Upon arriving at the market, they entered a quaint shop that caught their interest. The interior was filled with a delightful array of goods—colorful ribbons, fine fabrics, and various household items. Elizabeth selected some lace for Jane, while Kitty and Lydia admired a selection of new bonnets.

After they left the shop, their arms laden with purchases, the girls' attention was soon caught by a group of militia officers, their red coats bright against the greenery. Mary, with a concerned look, whispered to Elizabeth, "Remember what Papa said about the militia, Lizzy."

Elizabeth nodded, but Kitty and Lydia dismissed their sister's caution with a wave. "Oh, Mary, you worry too much," Lydia said with a laugh. "We are only having a bit of fun."

When the officers waved in their direction, Kitty and Lydia's excitement grew, and they hurried forward to greet the officers, their earlier dismay at Mr. Collins's presence forgotten.

Two figures appeared in the distance, tall and imposing, the sun obscuring their faces. As they moved closer, the first man flashed a knowing smile. It was Mr. George Wickham. The second, a man with ginger hair, nodded politely at the ladies.

"Good morning, ladies," Wickham greeted them, his smile warm and engaging. "What a pleasant surprise to see you here."

"Mr. Wickham!" Lydia exclaimed, clearly delighted. "We thought you had left Meryton."

"I had an urgent matter to attend to in Derbyshire," Wickham explained, his gaze shifting to Elizabeth. "But I am glad to be back." He gestured to his companion. "Allow me to introduce my friend, Lieutenant Denny."

Elizabeth took the opportunity to introduce their cousin. "Mr. Wickham, this is our cousin, Mr. Collins."

Mr. Collins, bowing with great formality, remarked, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Wickham. Though I do not often have the pleasure of meeting gentlemen of the militia, I hold them in high regard. Lady Catherine de Bourgh speaks highly of their importance in protecting society's physical properties. However, she considers the clergy to have a higher calling, since it falls to us to safeguard the soul of the community."

Wickham's smile broadened slightly as he replied, "Indeed, Mr. Collins."

As they continued to converse, Wickham fell into step beside Elizabeth. "What a funny man your cousin is," he remarked quietly.

Elizabeth suppressed a smile. "He is always speaking of his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh."

Wickham chuckled. "I see."

"So, Derbyshire?" Elizabeth began. "What is the country like there?"

Wickham's eyes brightened at the question. "It is a place of great natural beauty, with rolling hills and verdant landscapes. It is quite remarkable, I must say."

Elizabeth nodded. "We met one of its gentlemen yesterday. He was lost and stumbled upon Longbourn. A man by the name of Fitzwilliam Darcy."

At the mention of Darcy's name, Wickham froze momentarily, but not without Elizabeth noticing. His smile faded, and a shadow crossed his face. "You know Mr. Darcy?" he asked, his tone wary.

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, he called on us at Longbourn. He seemed kind of distant, perhaps shy. Do you know him?"

Wickham sighed. "Indeed, I do. We have known each other since childhood. I grew up at their family's estate, Pemberley, as my father was Mr. Darcy's steward. Mr. Darcy's father treated me like a son and promised me a living upon his death, but Mr. Darcy did not honour his father's wishes after his demise. His behaviour towards me has been nothing short of malicious."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed at the revelation. "That is indeed unfortunate. I am sorry to hear it."

Wickham continued, lowering his voice so only Elizabeth could hear, "Mr. Darcy deprived me of my rightful inheritance. He has always been jealous of the affection his father showed me and sought to undermine me at every turn."

Her thoughts about Mr. Darcy from the previous day came swelling to the surface. Elizabeth's previous impression of him as distant and perhaps proud was now reinforced by Wickham's account. She felt a growing sense of indignation on Wickham's behalf.

While she contemplated what more to say on the subject, Wickham mentioned, "There will be a ball hosted at the Meryton assembly, in two days' time."

Seeing as he had changed the subject, Elizabeth assumed her companion had no wish to discuss Mr. Darcy further. "It is the talk of town. Will you be attending, Mr. Wickham?" she asked.

Wickham shook his head regretfully. "I fear I must decline, Miss Bennet. Duty calls me elsewhere."

Kitty and Lydia expressed their disappointment. "We wish you could be there, Mr. Wickham. We would have loved to dance with you."

"I would have enjoyed that as well. But I am sure you will have a splendid time." Wickham smiled ruefully.

Kitty added, "I look forward to dancing with all the men of the militia and also with Mr. Bingley and perhaps his quieter friend, Mr. Darcy."

"Don't be silly, Kitty. You wouldn't have danced with half the men in the militia when the ball will be over," Mary commented.

"I am sure there will be enough time to dance and make merry," Elizabeth announced, seeking to end the argument brewing between her sisters.

As they prepared to part ways, Wickham leaned in closer to Elizabeth and murmured, "If Mr. Darcy attends the assembly, Miss Bennet, I would advise caution. He is not what he seems. Do not be swayed by his wealth and status."

Elizabeth, taken aback by Wickham's warning, could only nod. Mr. Wickham and his companion bid the party farewell and departed on a separate way. As they continued home, Mr. Collins resumed his conversation about the parsonage and what Lady Catherine de Bourgh would think of most of the sight they saw along the way. Elizabeth, however, was lost in her own thoughts. The day's events had given her much to ponder, and she found herself increasingly wary of Mr. Darcy. Wickham's words only confirmed her suspicions from the previous day. She looked forward to getting home and discussing it with Jane. Now Jane would see that she was right about Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth thought. He wasn't shy, but a man whose pride was unconcealable and who treated people in an ungentlemanly manner.

****

The sun was beginning to shine high in the sky, its rays entering through the tall windows of Netherfield as Mr. Darcy entered the breakfast room, appearing more refreshed than he had the previous evening.

Mr. Bingley, already seated, looked up with a welcoming smile. "Ah, Darcy! Good morning. I trust you are well rested?"

"Indeed, Bingley. I feel quite refreshed," Darcy replied, taking a seat.

Miss Bingley, who had been attentively waiting at the table for Darcy's arrival, beamed and said, "I trust you are feeling quite recovered from your journey, Mr. Darcy. The table is set, and we are delighted to have you join us for breakfast."

Darcy inclined his head politely. "Everything was quite satisfactory, Miss Bingley."

"I do hope your accommodations were to your liking, Mr. Darcy." Mrs. Hurst, added.

Darcy replied courteously that they were indeed very comfortable.

Mr. Hurst, more focused on the generous spread before him than on the conversation, merely grunted his acknowledgment while serving himself another helping of ham.

The breakfast continued with idle conversation, the clinking of silverware, and the soft murmur of voices. Miss Bingley commented on the quality of the tea and the freshness of the bread, but her attempts to engage Darcy were met with polite, if reserved, responses.

After a few more moments of conversation, Mr. Bingley cleared his throat and announced, "I have received an invitation from Mr. Lucas for a ball at the Meryton Assembly. It is to happen in two days. It seems the entire neighbourhood will be in attendance."

Darcy, stirring his tea thoughtfully, remarked, "Mr. Bennet spoke well of Mr. Lucas when I met him yesterday. He also mentioned that his daughter is quite sensible, though I am not sure why he felt the need to include that detail."

"Perhaps Mr. Bennet sees you as a man who will soon be in need of a wife and was introducing you to the idea." Bingley chuckled.

Miss Bingley, her tone edged with disdain, interjected, "Mr. Bennet has his own daughters, and surely he would not be introducing you to someone else's. It is typical of country families to seek advantageous matches for their lowly daughters."

"Every family, whether in town or country, desires the best for their daughters. It is not for us to belittle their aspirations." Darcy's expression remained calm, but there was a firmness in his voice as he responded.

Miss Bingley's smile faltered, clearly ruffled by his rebuke. She turned to her sister for support. "Louisa, do you not agree that families in places like Meryton are particularly eager to introduce their daughters to any eligible gentleman?"

Mrs. Hurst, ever ready to support her sister, nodded. "Indeed, Caroline. For example, many people have been visiting Bingley since his arrival, and it is not merely because they are so neighbourly. Perhaps they have heard of his fortune and have come to make his acquaintance, hoping to connect their daughters."

"I believe you are mistaken, Caroline. Their visits are merely acts of friendliness and a natural desire to welcome new neighbors." Bingley said, sensing the implication of their remarks.

Darcy responded with measured calm, "Either way, every family will do what is best for their daughters. And some daughters, too, will pursue what they believe to be most advantageous, even when their efforts are clearly not making headway." He cast a pointed glance in Miss Bingley's direction.

"I plan to attend with everyone. It promises to be a delightful evening. Darcy, you must join us." Mr. Bingley announced.

Mr. Darcy shook his head, "I would prefer to sit it out, Bingley," though his tone lacked conviction.

"Nonsense," Bingley insisted. "It will be a good opportunity for us to connect with the local society, and you can meet the Bennets again to express your thanks for their assistance. It is only proper before we can officially call on them."

Darcy sighed, recognizing the futility of resisting Bingley's enthusiasm. "Very well. I shall accompany you."

"Excellent! It will be a splendid evening, I am sure."

Miss Bingley, though maintaining her composure, could not conceal her irritation entirely. Mr. Hurst, oblivious to the undercurrents of the conversation, continued to focus on his breakfast, content with the promise of good food and company.