Chapter 26

Phillips Home

Meryton

12 th November, 1811

Elizabeth took a deep breath of relief, the fire-warmed air of her aunt's drawing room a pleasant contrast to the sharp cold outside, and drew her shawl closer about her shoulders. Jane, at her elbow, suppressed a shiver, and their mother nudged them further into the room, which was remarkably full. Lydia and Kitty and Mrs. Montgomery sat in a neat line on the couch, carefully balancing their cups on their knees. Mary rested in a chair adjacent to the loveseat where her Aunt and Uncle Phillips were seated.

There were also three men in red coats in attendance, nibbling at scones and sipping tea. Captain Denny and Lieutenant Pratt were known to her already, of course, but it was the third man who arrested her attention. He was remarkably handsome, with a fine straight nose, sparkling eyes, and full lips, and displayed the air and carriage of a gentleman. His figure was likewise very fine, and was flattered greatly by the striking red coat he wore.

Elizabeth watched him as she stepped further into the room, Jane flanking her and their mother close behind. She was not surprised to see her younger sisters hanging ardently on his every word, and as she approached the firelight, Lydia laughed at his remark, her voice high and girlish.

"Sister, nieces!" Mrs. Phillips exclaimed, rising to her feet with a broad smile stretched across her plump face. "I apologize. I did not see you come in!"

The gentlemen rose as one, and the unknown man turned a particular smile on Elizabeth, though naturally he did not speak as they had not yet been introduced.

"My dears," Mrs. Phillips said expansively, "I believe you all know Mr. Pratt and Mr. Denny, but please allow me to introduce Lieutenant Wickham, who joined the militia regiment here in Meryton only yesterday. Lieutenant, my sister Mrs. Bennet, my niece Miss Bennet, and my niece Miss Elizabeth."

The ladies curtsied appropriately, and Wickham bowed and then straightened with a smile, displaying very white, straight teeth.

"It is a great honor to meet you," he said. "It was the prospect of constant society, and good society, which was my chief inducement to enter this militia regiment. I know it to be a most respectable, agreeable corps, and my friend Denny tempted me further by his account of their present quarters, and the very fine attentions and excellent acquaintance Meryton had provided them. Now that I have had the opportunity to meet your charming family, I understand his accolades of the area."

Elizabeth, casting a quick glance at her younger two sisters, was not astonished to see their eyes bright with enthusiasm. She could not entirely blame them. Mr. Wickham was a most remarkable young man, blessed with both looks and charm. She was also not surprised to see her mother's expression shift from good cheer to a certain blank calm. Mrs. Bennet had a deep and abiding mistrust of outwardly charming men. It was, perhaps, not completely fair, but given Mrs. Bennet's unfortunate marriage, it was also not unexpected.

By this time, the family had distributed itself about the room, and Elizabeth found herself with a cup of tea in her hand, Jane at her side, and Mr. Pratt and Mr. Wickham sitting in two separate chairs across from them. Within seconds, Pratt began speaking with Jane, his eyes fixed worshipfully on Miss Bennet's angelic countenance, which left Elizabeth to speak with their new acquaintance.

"It is cold outside today," Wickham remarked, casting a glance out the windows.

"It is," Elizabeth agreed. "Our butler is noted for his weather sense, and he informed us that he thinks a storm is brewing and will likely strike tonight."

"That is a pity," Wickham replied. "May I inquire as to whether you have lived in this area your whole lives?"

"Yes. Our father is master of Longbourn, which is only a mile from here."

"And there are five of you sisters?"

"Yes," Elizabeth agreed.

"You are blessed to have such a large family. I am, unfortunately, an only child, and both of my parents are dead."

"That is very difficult," Elizabeth said sympathetically, and she meant it. She loved her mother and sisters dearly, and yes, she even loved her father, although he did not seem to love her much in return. And while Mr. Bennet was a tiresome sire and a lazy master, his continued existence meant that the Bennet ladies had a roof over their head, food to eat, and clothes to wear.

Mr. Wickham grimaced and shook his head. "I must not complain. I am fortunate to have this opportunity to serve in the militia, and in such a delightful area. Meryton seems a most pleasing town. I understand from your younger sisters that there are some four and twenty families of the gentry in the neighborhood?"

"Yes, that is correct," Elizabeth confirmed. "May I inquire as to where you hail from, Mr. Wickham? Did you grow up in Town?"

"No, no! I grew up on a great estate in Derbyshire, where my father served as steward. I miss it, of course, but life is never a certain thing. I am a disappointed man, you see. The churchoughtto have been my profession. I was brought up for the church, and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, but regrettably my godfather's son, who succeeded as master of the estate when my godfather died, chose not to give it to me."

"I am sorry," Elizabeth said, though a slight frown etched her forehead. For a man who said he ought not to complain, the young man did in fact complain a great deal. "Have you taken Holy Orders, then?"

"I fear not, as good old Mr. Darcy died before he could provide sufficient funds for…"

"Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth interrupted, her eyes flaring wide in astonishment. "Could it be that you are speaking of Mr. Darcy of Pemberley?"

Alarm filled her companion's countenance at these words, and it was a full ten seconds before he managed to school his features into one of gravity. "Yes, the elder Mr. Darcy was my godfather. Is it possible that you know his son?"

"Yes, I do," Elizabeth replied, staring at Wickham in wonder. "He is currently a guest at nearby Netherfield Hall, which is being leased by a Mr. Charles Bingley. You say that it is Mr. Darcy who treated you so poorly?"

The astonishment in her tone provoked a look of deep concern in Wickham's brown eyes, and it was another thirty seconds before he said, rather deprecatingly, "I fear it was, but perhaps it as much my fault as his. We have very dissimilar natures, and while we were friends as boys, we are not on particularly good terms now."

Elizabeth, who had noted the distress on her companion's face, could not help but be suspicious of Mr. Wickham's claims. She did not pretend to know Mr. Darcy particularly well, and he could possibly be a rake, though that seemed increasingly unlikely, but he certainly was devoted to his family and his estate. She thought it improbable that Darcy could mistreat his father's godson, thus, the godson himself might well be the problem. She also remembered her mother's oft repeated warnings, that a handsome young man may hide a devious character behind elegance and charm.

"May I ask where you were living before coming to Hertfordshire?" she asked.

"I was in London."

"Do you enjoy Town? I have often spent time with my aunt and uncle in Cheapside."

"I do. I greatly enjoy the theaters, and the museums…"

The conversation continued in this style, without any further discussion of Darcy or the disputed living, until it was time for the officers to depart. Mrs. Bennet waited until they had left before gathering her own daughters and making their way to the carriage, which was waiting nearby. It had been a busy day, and there was still much to do for Mary's upcoming wedding, and all the ladies were anxious to hurry home.

/

Drawing Room

Netherfield

12 th November, 1811

"I am sorry that you are required to return to Town, Mr. Darcy," Miss Bingley said.

Darcy, who was writing a business letter, turned abruptly and nervously towards his hostess. A moment later, he relaxed at the sight of both Miss Bingley and her sister, Mrs. Hurst. He knew that Miss Bingley wished to marry him, and he did not care to spend time alone with her.

"I am hopeful that our business will not take long," he replied courteously, as he turned his attention back on his letter. That ought to signal to both ladies that he was busy and they should leave him be.

"Mr. Darcy," Miss Bingley said in a solemn tone, and the gentleman laid his letter aside with a sigh. The lady was his hostess, and it would be rude to ignore her entirely.

"Yes?"

"Louisa and I wish to speak to you," and here Miss Bingley lowered her voice and cast a dramatic look at the closed door, "about our brother's unfortunate infatuation with Miss Bennet."

Darcy sighed inwardly. Of course.

"Why unfortunate?" he demanded.

This provoked a look of astonishment on the part of both women, and Miss Bingley lifted her chin and said, "Surely it is obvious! Miss Bennet is sweet, I suppose, but she has few accomplishments, poor connections, and no dowry to speak of. She is not at all suitable for Charles."

"She is amiable, courteous, and a gentleman's daughter," Darcy said calmly. "That is more than you can boast, ladies. Your fortunes derive from trade, and your father was not a landowner."

This produced a look of shock on Mrs. Hurst's face, and one of outrage on Miss Bingley's.

"How can you say such a thing, sir?" the younger woman demanded. "Louisa and I were both educated in one of the most select seminaries in London, and can design tables, and play and sing…"

"You do, and very well," Darcy replied. "I have no desire to denigrate either of you, I assure you. I consider your brother my closest friend, and do not consider it a problem that he is not a gentleman's son. I am merely explaining why Miss Bennet would, I believe, be an excellent wife for my friend."

Again, he faced shocked faces and open mouths.

"You cannot be serious," Mrs. Hurst said feebly.

"I am entirely serious. Now, with all due respect, I need to finish this letter…"

Yes, that was somewhat rude, but so were his friend's sisters. They had no right to tear down lovely Miss Bennet, who had turned down an offer from Bingley because she was not yet certain of their compatibility.

Not that the ladies knew that, of course. It would likely be helpful if they did know, but that was Bingley's secret to tell, or not tell, not Darcy's.

/

Dining Room

Longbourn

Dinner Time

12 th November, 1811

It was a feminine gathering around the dinner table at the Bennets' house. Mr. Bennet had not put in an appearance at all before they had departed for Meryton, and it was with great relief that they learned from the butler that he had not emerged from his library. It was a rare occasion that he joined his family the day after deep inebriation, but the times he did were invariably unpleasant.

Now Mrs. Bennet, her girls, and their governess sat down to dinner. A slab of roast beef was in the center of the table, surrounded by vegetables and bread and a mushroom ragout, with a tall glass pitcher of lemonade ready to refill glasses. Conversation was light and desultory – the weather that was likely over the next few days, and how French lessons were going – until the maids left the room.

"The officers are so handsome, are they not?" Kitty said dreamily and then took a bite of thick bread lavishly spread with butter.

"Especially Mr. Wickham!" Lydia agreed and then turned a saucy smile on her mother. "And I know, Mamma. Kitty and I are far too young to think of marriage, and in any case, a militia officer would almost certainly be unable to support a wife."

"Exactly," Mrs. Bennet said. "Moreover, I do not trust Mr. Wickham. He is too handsome and charming by half."

"That does not seem entirely fair," Jane protested. "It is not his fault he is very good looking, and he seems the perfect gentleman, along with having excellent address."

Mrs. Bennet took a sip of her wine and nodded reluctantly. "I suppose that is true enough. He may well be a fine young man."

"I rather think he is not, actually," Elizabeth said, which drew the attention of the rest of the ladies.

"Whatever do you mean, Lizzy?" Lydia demanded.

Elizabeth frowned. "He told me some story about how Mr. Darcy cheated him out of a valuable church living. He was, he claimed, the godson of the elder Mr. Darcy, now dead, who meant for Wickham to take Holy Orders and become a clergyman. When I told him I actually knew Mr. Darcy, he immediately seemed to rethink his words. The whole thing was quite suspicious."

"I agree that Mr. Darcy does not give the impression of one likely to cheat a man out of a living," Jane said.

"I entirely agree, especially his own father's godson. Moreover, he must be over five and twenty years of age, and appears to have made little of his life. With a man with such refined manners, well, I do not believe he was telling the truth, or the entire truth, anyway."

"Girls," Mrs. Bennet said, "the reality is that, while the officers seem estimable, we know nothing about their pasts. I order you to never walk into Meryton alone while the militia officers are in residence, and that includes you, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth sighed but could only nod. It was not such a hardship, certainly. Phoebe, one of the maids, was a tall girl with a brisk stride. If Elizabeth truly needed to walk to town, she could and would take a servant with her. Mrs. Bennet was correct; there was no guarantee that the militia officers were honorable men, and in Wickham's case, there was a fair chance that the man was actually dishonorable.