Chapter 14

The morning dawned bright and clear. Elizabeth sat up in bed with Jane already gone from her side of the mattress. She thought about laying back down and feigning illness but knew it would only bring a string of worried family members into her room. Her father might even stir himself from his library long enough to see how she was doing. And her mother —

Elizabeth's head ached thinking of how her mother would react to her being sick. "And she might die without ever having experienced the joy of having a proposal!" The several logical fallacies contained within the statement would not occur to Mrs Bennet.

No. It would never do. Sighing, she got out of bed and padded to the window. She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and watched the sun peek over the hills. Mr Darcy and Georgiana would leave soon if they had not already departed. Perhaps it would be good for her to leave for a few days. At least Elizabeth would not have to explain why the acquaintance had been so suddenly and irrevocably severed.

Craving a few more moments of peace, she curled up at the window seat and looked out over the newly-washed landscape. It had rained throughout the night, stopping just before sunrise. She knew, for she had lain awake most of the night listening to it beat against the roof. Elizabeth pried open the ancient window and breathed deeply. She loved the smell of the land after a good soaking. It was like everything had a new beginning.

"Why should I not have one, too?" she whispered aloud. She would move on from the travesty that had been the day prior and try to have a good outlook. She wished Miss Darcy well, wherever she might be.

At half past seven, Elizabeth dressed and went downstairs. Her parents and Jane were already seated at the table making their tea. Mary could be heard but not seen at the pianoforte in the next room, stealing a few moments at the keys as they waited for the rest of the meal to be served.

"There you are, Lizzy. Are you feeling better this morning?" her mother asked.

Elizabeth managed a smile. "Yes, Mama, thank you. I was only tired after the long walk home in the rain."

She was far from rested, and as she sat down next to Jane, she could tell her father had seen that she had not been entirely open. Thankfully, he did not question her. Mr Bennet only offered his usual distracted greetings and went back to reading his newspaper. If he was worried over her welfare, likely he would call her into his study later and ask her confidentially.

Jane took her hand and squeezed it gently, offering encouragement. Her older sister knew that not everything was as it should be, but she remained blessedly quiet.

Soon, her mother called Mary away from the piano and asked her to retrieve Lydia and Kitty so they could begin the meal. Her younger sisters stumbled into the dining room a few minutes later, complaining, as was their usual. "Mama, you must tell Mary to read something other than sermons for a change!" Lydia whined.

"Why is that? I think sermons are a worthy type of literature to consume," Mary argued.

"She threatened to read to us until we got out of bed and got dressed," Kitty said, pouting as she sank into her chair. She yawned a very unladylike yawn and Lydia covered her mouth for her.

"It is not fair. Well-to-do ladies usually have breakfast in bed," Lydia went on.

"When you are married and the wife of some worthy gentleman, you may run your household however he wishes it. But in this house, we eat together as a family," Mr Bennet said firmly. His gentle reprimand silenced the girls, at least momentarily.

"Papa, may Kitty and I go into town this morning?" Lydia asked.

Their father did not even look up from his newspaper. "I suppose. Will you be going with them, my dear?" he asked their mother.

"My dear girls, I do wish you had discussed this with me yesterday. I promised Lady Lucas I would come and call on her today."

"Well, Lizzy can go with us. Can't you, Lizzy?" Lydia asked. "Please say you'll come. We cannot come by any trouble while she is with us."

Lydia looked at her earnestly across the table, her eyes wide and pleading. Elizabeth was unsure she wanted to venture into the village, but when Kitty also started her silent pleas, she gave in. It would give her a chance to get her mind off the terrible day that had been and look forward to the new. "Very well. We shall head into town after breakfast. But mind you, I shall not buy you anything while we are there. You already owe me a fortune."

Lydia squealed with delight and the two youngest girls ate with gusto. Soon after breakfast, the girls had retrieved their bonnets and gloves, donning their autumn Spencer jackets as well, since the air was still chill from yesterday's rain. The three sisters chatted pleasantly as they headed into town.

"Do you think there will be any soldiers in town when we arrive?" Lydia asked.

"Oh, there are bound to be a dozen or so. And the village will only fill with them more as the day goes on," Kitty replied.

"Now, girls, I did not agree to stay in town all day long. I have some mending that needs my attention, and —" Elizabeth's words were cut off by her sisters pleading with her to change her mind.

"I shall stay until noon, and that is as far as I will budge," Elizabeth said. The idea of staying all the day long made her joints ache. Besides that, she wanted to have time for a walk in the afternoon to clear her head, without her sister's constant chatter.

Meryton was bustling with unfamiliar faces, and all of them clothed in the bright red uniforms of the militia. Lydia suddenly stopped in the middle of the street as they were crossing and called out to one of their new acquaintances, a gentleman who had been among the first of the company to arrive. "Mr Denny!"

She and Kitty hurried toward the man, and Elizabeth did her best to keep pace. "Lydia, it is impolite to yell at a gentleman across the street," she hissed before they drew near.

"Oh, Denny does not mind. How do you do, Mr Denny?" she asked. She curtsied, and the man bowed to them all. Elizabeth was soon at no loss to guess why her sisters so enjoyed his company, for the ensign was young and handsome, with pleasing manners and no lack of conversation.

"How do you do, Miss Lydia? Miss Bennet, Miss Kitty?" He greeted them with a congenial smile.

Mr Denny turned as a man exited the nearby shop. "Here is my companion, Mr Wickham. He has just purchased his commission as a lieutenant, ladies. I assure you, he will climb the ranks quickly if I know anything about his mettle."

Elizabeth did not object to the introduction, for everything proclaimed Mr Wickham to be a gentleman. Upon receiving his compliments and giving him theirs in exchange, Elizabeth grew still more convinced of it. He was very handsome, of course, but this was nothing. The debacle with Mr Darcy had shown how very poorly a handsome man could behave. More importantly, Mr Wickham was quite delightful to talk to, with very engaging manners and a way of listening to her as though he had never heard anything so interesting in all his life. He fell into step beside her as they walked. Elizabeth winced to hear her sisters giggling at the handsome soldiers, alternating between talking with Mr Denny and whispering at each new red coat they saw. With very well-received consideration for her feelings, Mr Wickham acted as though he did not notice, barring only a brief glance towards the girls now and then.

"Are you enjoying your stay in Meryton so far, Mr Wickham?" Elizabeth asked.

"I am. It is a pleasant change from the busy towns we have been stationed outside of as of late." Mr Wickham clasped his hands behind his back, looking over at her with interest. "Have you lived in Meryton all your life?"

"Yes, I was born here, as were all my sisters. Our father owns an estate called Longbourn, not many miles from here." Elizabeth felt her heart flutter in her chest. Mr Wickham was certainly handsome, with bright green eyes and his hair curling thickly and neatly arranged. Though chiding herself for being as ridiculous as her sisters, Elizabeth could not help but notice that the bright red of his coat became him remarkably well.

"And where do you hail from, Mr Wickham?"

"I was born on an estate in Derbyshire. My father was a steward at a place called Pemberley for much of my childhood."

Elizabeth was taken aback. "Pemberley? The home of the Darcys?" she asked.

"Yes. You know it?"

Elizabeth could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. She had hoped to have some time before coming so near the subject of the previous day's embarrassing scene. "Yes, I know of it, although I have never been there."

"Ahh, yes. Well, it is breathtaking. My father worked there until the day he died." Mr Wickham stopped for a moment, and she slowed as well, turning to face him. "I was taken into the home as one of the family by the late Mr Darcy. It was a travesty when that man left this earth." He shook his head sadly. "Are you acquainted with the son at all?"

She raised her brows. "I — am," Elizabeth said a little abruptly. She might have said much more, and yet it would hardly be discrete to speak of it with a man she had only just met, no matter how engaging his manners.

Yet further words seemed unnecessary. Mr Wickham appeared to have inferred as much from her awkward brevity as though she had said all. "I see. Well, then, you will understand when I tell you that the gentleman and I did not part ways amicably."

"What happened, if you do not mind my asking?"

Mr Wickham sighed. "I do not wish to play the victim, but his father promised me a living in a parish near Pemberley. It was always my wish to join the church. But when the late Mr Darcy passed away, the son refused me the living, even when it came available." He gave a sad smile. "And now I am forced to make my living in His Majesty's armed forces, a lowly foot soldier. Indeed, I am too lowly even to be noticed."

Elizabeth's heart went out to him. "I am sorry, Mr Wickham. How terrible it must have been for you."

He shrugged it off as if his sufferings were nothing. But Elizabeth's anger towards Mr Darcy was doubled. His rude and inaccurate judgement of herself was meaningless compared to so immoral an act. "Why would he do such a thing?"

Mr Wickham seemed hesitant to explain further. However, after a few quiet moments, he glanced at her, as if to see if she was trustworthy. He looked ahead again, and she was struck once more at his handsome features. "His father loved me better, and he never got over it. Jealousy is a very dangerous thing, Miss Bennet."

In the next moment, the others rejoined them, and all confidential conversation was necessarily at an end. In the silence allowed her by Lydia's chatter, Elizabeth thought how very charming Mr Wickham was, how very different from the serious, sour-faced Mr Darcy. With his amiable manners and charming smile, Mr Wickham was likely to do very well in Meryton.

∞∞∞

"Darcy, my good fellow, what has you so down in the mouth?" Bingley asked. He raised his glass of wine from the head of the table, calling everyone's attention to Darcy's lack of engagement.

Thankfully, the company comprised only Mr Bingley, his youngest sister, Caroline Bingley, and his eldest sister and her husband, Mr Hurst. Bingley had insisted on welcoming him back to London with a supper party, and while he was glad to see his dearest friend, Darcy almost wished he had not accepted.

It was a matter of only a few hours by carriage between Meryton and London, and yet Darcy found himself wearier than the miles would suggest. He was heartsore, perhaps. It was not only worry over Georgiana. His behaviour to Miss Elizabeth Bennet had been unforgiveable. However wrong her actions, she was still a lady. Darcy found himself wishing he could go back and undo — he hardly knew what he would undo. If not what he had said, then how he had said it.

"Forgive me, Bingley," Darcy said, raising his glass. "I am listening."

"I was only asking how your stay in Meryton was," Bingley replied.

"Yes, is it as dull and backward as we have heard?" Caroline Bingley asked. Her sister and her brother-in-law immediately joined in with her laughter. Miss Bingley was always making jokes at other people's expense. The lady seemed to think it made her appear charming and witty. Darcy would have said rather ill-natured and unkind.

"No, not backward. It is not as lively as London, by any stretch of the imagination. But they enjoy a tight-knit community." Darcy did not know why he felt the need to defend Meryton, but he did. Perhaps it was Miss Bingley's condescending tone. She had never stepped foot in the place, and yet she was quick to pass judgement.

"Darcy says that there is a house close to Meryton that would serve well as a country home for us. I think I shall travel there with him and look it over," Bingley said with a smile. His bright red hair flopped from side to side as he spoke in his animated way. His fair, freckled skin and broad smile made him appear the boy more than the man. But he was quickly growing into his spurs. If only his sisters would stand aside and give him the credit he deserved, he would soon come into his own.

"Charles, you cannot be serious? A country house in Hertfordshire? Why on earth would we leave London?" Miss Bingley protested.

"If you dislike it, then stay here with our sister. I should like to find a place to stay during the hunt. And I hear that the community is very charming. Did not Miss Darcy say so in her last letter?" Bingley took a sip of his wine, then dug into his meal once more.

"It is very quaint. But then again, I enjoy the country. I believe you would, too, Bingley." Not to mention that it would make future visits to Georgiana far more pleasant if he could look forward to the society of his closest friend at the same time. Darcy busied himself with the second course. He had not the appetite he should have exhibited after a long journey. It was as though the food soured in his mouth as it made its way to his stomach. And Miss Bingley's manners were not helping.

Elizabeth would never have been so rude. He imagined her sitting beside him. She had been reading a book the last day he had seen her, the day things had gone so terribly wrong. The novel was a particularly interesting one. Though not yet half through himself, Darcy already knew he would not regret having acquired it for Pemberley's library. He wondered what she thought of it, whether she would enjoy the author's elegant prose and uncommon insights.

Darcy quickly pushed the thought aside. He should not be thinking of her, or at least not in any connection beyond a rightful indignation for her manipulations. That was more difficult than Darcy would have guessed. It was all too easy to forget her sins and remember her finer qualities, despite his best efforts to remain distant. While he sat listening to the others, he could not help comparing Miss Bingley with Elizabeth. She was kind, quick-witted, and loyal. Or so he had thought before Mrs Younge had told him otherwise. He should not be thinking of her as one of the loveliest and most charming women of his acquaintance.

How fickle was the heart? His mind told him to stay away, but his heart would not listen.

After supper, Darcy, Mr Bingley, and Mr Hurst stayed back in the dining room to enjoy a glass of port while the women went through. Mr Hurst lit his pipe, while Bingley and Darcy refrained. Darcy did not much care for the smell of tobacco, but chose not to comment.

"Here now, since the ladies are no longer in earshot, what really happened in Meryton, Darcy? Something has put your mood off," Bingley said.

Darcy was reluctant to say anything in front of Mr Hurst, knowing that it would be immediately repeated to his gossip of a wife. "Nothing, Bingley. It is only that I wish my sister could have been prevailed upon to accompany me."

Mr Hurst snorted. "You are her guardian, Darcy. What has Georgiana to say about it? She will go where you tell her to go."

Darcy grimaced. Mr Hurst's children were still young. He would have to hope that the man learned better of his dictatorial bent by the time they were older. He did not seem to interest himself much in them, preferring to leave his son and daughter to the care of a nursemaid and governess. "Naturally. But where Georgiana expresses a preference, and I do not think it injurious to her education or future happiness, I prefer to indulge her."

"And why did she change her plans? I know Caroline was eager to see her again. She dotes on her like a sister, you know," Bingley said, leaning back in his chair.

Darcy knew just how much Miss Bingley wished to make Georgiana her sister, not only in friendly affection, but by marriage. She had been shameless in her pursuit of his attention since the time she had first come out in society. Darcy endured her company for the sake of her brother, but marriage was out of the question. While his family might have objected to her for her antecedents, Darcy found a far greater obstacle in the lady's character. Her sharp tongue had made up his mind to that very quickly. Indeed, two siblings could not be more unlike. Bingley was open-hearted and jovial, while Miss Bingley was callous and often rude. She seemed to delight in pointing out others' flaws.

She and Elizabeth could also not be more unlike, he mused. But that was folly. Elizabeth was only the better actress. In actuality, she must be just as venial and cold as Miss Bingley. He looked down at his hands, swirling the contents of his drink. "She wanted to come and see you all, and I hope to bring her in the spring. But she was making some friends in Meryton and did not want to leave."

The conversation moved on to politics and the state of the economy. Much was threatened with the rise of Napoleon, but there was also gain to be had, in Mr Hurst's opinion. Darcy heard little of his schemes. All he could seem to think about was the woman he had left, crushed, back in Meryton. And her dark eyes flaming with indignation at his treatment of her. How he wished he had been wrong about her motives in befriending his sister. If things had been different, he would have liked to know her better.