Chapter 12

Longbourn

One week later

Rain tapped at the windows, slanting down at angles in the breeze. Tendrils of fog swirled over the slushy brown grass outside. Inside it was cozy and warm, the crackling fire doing its merry best to heat the parlor. It was an inviting little room, all done up in rose and cream when Mrs. Bennet had, quite abruptly, grown tired of the old décor and splurged mightily in redecorating it top to bottom.

Elizabeth sat upon one of the rose-tinted loveseats, ankles neatly crossed, plying her needle. A swathe of pale blue linen was draped across her lap, and in the otherwise empty space beside her, she had laid out her threads in neat rows. She glanced up from her sewing only very occasionally as she listened to the discussion in the room.

“Debts to every tradesman in the entire village, along with countless gambling debts to his fellow officers!” Lady Lucas exclaimed.

Mrs. Bennet handed a tea cup to her friend and neighbor, her cerulean eyes glittering with excitement. “It is truly hard to believe! Mr. Wickham is such a handsome man and with such charming manners!”

“I do not believe a word of it,” Lydia snapped indignantly from her place next to her mother. “It is all more lies, no doubt spread by Mr. Darcy!”

“It is not , Miss Lydia,” Lady Lucas said sternly. “Sir William spent many hours this last week visiting the various keepers, and Wickham has debts in every single shop and pub, some of them quite substantial! Moreover, when Colonel Forster spoke to Wickham on the matter, the lieutenant confessed he had no means, or intention, of paying the debts. ‘Tis a disgrace that such a man would prey upon the good people of Meryton. A few pounds one way or another is a serious matter for Mr. Smythe the butcher and Mr. Clayton the blacksmith!”

“It is not Mr. Wickham’s fault that he is poor!” Lydia continued angrily. “If Mr. Darcy had only given him the living…”

“For pity’s sake, Lydia,” Elizabeth exclaimed in exasperation, “did you not hear what Mr. Wickham admitted on Jane’s wedding day? Mr. Darcy gave him three thousand pounds to give up all rights to the living, at Wickham’s request, which is a vast sum for a single gentleman. If the lieutenant is poor, it is because he spent all that money in a few short years. It is almost unbelievable; he does not have a house or an estate, nor a wife or children, to care for. How could he have used up so much in a few years?”

“Gambling, no doubt,” Mrs. Bennet said with a disdainful sniff, “and carousing, and that sort of thing.”

“Well, the next time I see Mr. Wickham, I will ask him what truly happened,” Lydia insisted.

“Take my advice, my girl, do not see Lieutenant Wickham at all,” Lady Lucas said. “It is not safe.”

Kitty, who was sitting on a rocking chair near the fire, stared at their neighbor in obvious bewilderment and demanded, “Why on earth not?”

“Well, that is not for maiden ears, my dear Kitty,” Lady Lucas said ominously, “but your dear mother can tell you that some men are not ... not...”

“You do not mean...?” Mrs. Bennet asked in a high pitched tone.

“Indeed I do, Mrs. Bennet. Two girls definitely – Sally at the Pig in the Poke, and young Jenny Wyndham, who works at the bookstore. Both say that Wickham is the man who ... well, and he promised marriage, of all things. Girls can be such fools, you know, about a handsome man like that...”

“I do not understand in the least!” Kitty complained. “What are you speaking of?”

The two matriarchs exchanged meaningful glances, and Lady Lucas said repressively, “All you need to know is that Mr. Wickham has not been entirely honorable in his dealings with young women in the village.”

“Poor things!” Mrs. Bennet said with genuine sympathy. “What was the War Office thinking to send such a rogue to our little village? Girls, you must not enter Meryton alone until the regiment has left. Who knows what Mr. Wickham is capable of?”

“Mother, no!” Lydia cried out in anguish.

“You will be safe together,” Mrs. Bennet said in a placating tone, “but alone, no, it is not to be thought of. My dear Lydia, I would die if some harm came to you!”

Lydia opened her mouth in protest, only to close it as the door to the sitting room opened and, to the surprise of all, Mr. Bennet entered the room. He rarely left his library at this hour, and it was even rarer for him to seek out his womenfolk.

“Lizzy,” her father said, bending an affectionate look on his favorite daughter, “I just received a message from Bingley regarding fencing on the border between Netherfield and Longbourn, and I intend to go over there by carriage in a few minutes. Would you care to join me? Jane would doubtless enjoy a visit with you.”

Elizabeth hastily gathered up her work and rose. “I would like that very much, Father. Thank you.”

/

Netherfield

“Instead of being quite the most charming, handsome, delightful man on earth, Mr. Wickham is a spendthrift, a gambler, a debtor, and a debaucher!” Elizabeth declared, marching angrily up and down the drawing room at Netherfield Hall.

“I fear that is quite true,” Jane agreed in a distressed tone. “Sir William visited us as well, you know. Apparently he is assisting Wickham’s creditors in seeking remuneration for the man’s debts. He wished Charles to be aware of what has come to pass, as there is a good deal of indignation among the militia officers over the matter. Many are inclined to blame Mr. Darcy instead of Lieutenant Wickham, and as Darcy’s good friend, Charles might be exposed to some misplaced outrage.”

“Oh Jane, I am so sorry!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “And during your honeymoon, no less!”

“Now do not worry about us, Lizzy,” her sister replied, her blue eyes glowing. “Charles and I are very happy together, and in any case, we both wish to begin our marriage firmly rooted in reality. As master of Netherfield, Charles is responsible for dealing with a variety of individuals, and some of them will be irritable. As for me – well, my dear sister, I do hope and pray that some day you will be so fortunate as to find a compatible husband of your own. If I could but see you as happy! If there were but such another man for you!”

Elizabeth’s rage subsided at these words, and she gazed at her favorite sister with amused affection. “If you were to give me forty such men I never could be so happy as you. Till I have your disposition, your goodness, I never can have your happiness. No, no, let me shift for myself, and perhaps, if I have very good luck, I may garner the attentions of another Mr. Collins in time.”

Jane laughed and shook her head at these words. Their cousin, Mr. Collins, heir to the estate of Longbourn, was a foolish, conceited individual whom the Bennets, one and all, found irritating. Mr. Collins had proposed to Elizabeth some months previously, been rejected, and then turned his attention on Charlotte, the eldest daughter of Sir William and Lady Lucas. Charlotte, desirous of a home and family of her own, had accepted the man, to Elizabeth’s shock and horror.

“Speaking of the Collinses,” Jane said, “are you still planning to visit them soon?”

“Yes, I am,” Elizabeth replied, lowering herself onto the couch next to her sister. “Indeed, I will be departing the week after next with Maria Lucas. I miss Charlotte and hope that her enjoyable company will mitigate the irritation of being in close proximity to Mr. Collins.”

Jane sighed and said, “Mr. Collins may be foolish, but he is not, at least, a libertine and a scoundrel.”

“That is true enough,” her sister said glumly. “It is horrific that Wickham, whom I truly thought the very best of men, makes our absurd cousin look virtuous and respectable.”

Jane hesitated and then laid a gentle hand on her sister’s arm. “You have every reason to be angry at Mr. Wickham.”

Elizabeth blew out a breath and then confessed, “I am angrier at myself, Jane. I ought to have known better. I well remember how, when Wickham told me his tale of woe, that I thought that Mr. Darcy must be at fault, for Wickham’s very countenance made it obvious that he was amiable and honorable. What a fool I was to think that I could, within an hour of meeting the man, conclude that his heart was as noble as his face. And for Wickham to tell me such a story! For we were but newly met, and he spoke ill of Mr. Darcy only after I expressed my own dissatisfaction with the man.”

“I presume that your view of Mr. Darcy has softened, then?” Jane asked hopefully.

“It has, certainly,” her sister agreed. “He was entirely in the right concerning the contested church living, he is a good brother, and he is a faithful friend to Bingley. I still do not consider him a particularly good tempered man, and I am angry that he did not warn anyone in the area about Wickham. Mama was blaming the War Office for loosing a predator in our midst, but the War Office cannot be expected to know the history of every officer in its ranks. Darcy has known of Wickham’s habit of running up debts, and probably he knows of the man’s mistreatment of vulnerable girls. Why did he not speak of such things to anyone?”

Jane shook her head and said, “I do not think it would have been right for Mr. Darcy to make Wickham's errors known so publicly, when for all he knew, the lieutenant was eager to turn a new leaf and live a creditable, virtuous life.”

“But given that Wickham had run up debts in the past? Surely it would have been wise for Darcy to drop a hint to Colonel Forster, or my father? Not, of course, that Darcy would do such a thing, for if there is one thing I am certain of, it is that the master of Pemberley is a proud man, and not inclined to stir himself on behalf of the lower classes.”

Jane, who was frowning heavily, said slowly, “Wickham was his own father’s godson. It would be difficult and painful to openly discredit one’s own childhood playmate.”

“I suppose that is true,” Elizabeth admitted. “Nonetheless, many will suffer for Mr. Darcy’s silence, most of all the two girls who are carrying his child.”

“Charles will arrange for their care,” Jane assured her.

The door opened at this juncture and Mr. Bennet and Mr. Bingley entered the room, both looking serious.

“Is something wrong?” Jane asked, leaping to her feet.

“Nothing that directly affects us,” Bingley assured her, walking over to kiss his bride on her forehead. “There is more news of Wickham.”

Elizabeth, who had also risen, turned a worried look on her father.

“Colonel Forster ordered two of his men to search Wickham’s rooms since he did not trust the lieutenant to be honest about his lack of funds to pay his debts. The men found numerous items that have gone missing from other officers and acquaintances, including your mother’s silver candlesticks which disappeared a week ago. It appears Wickham is a thief, along with his other sins.”

Elizabeth grimaced in disgust. “I wish I were surprised, but I am not. What will happen to him?”

“He has been arrested and will be put on trial,” Bingley said, his eyes on Jane. “Are you terribly distressed, my love?”

Jane’s usually gentle eyes narrowed under her husband’s intense gaze. “I am distressed at Wickham’s perfidy, but not his imprisonment. He had done quite enough damage in Meryton.”

“I agree,” said Elizabeth.