Chapter 4

Four

So, the ‘cruel and proud' Mr Darcy is here .

Elizabeth walked impatiently towards Longbourn. When Mr Bingley had announced the impending arrival of his good friend, she had doubted he could be the same man so reviled by Mr Wickham. How could one man be described so differently? Yet only moments ago, she had seen both of those men—the Mr Darcy described as generous and clever and the Mr Darcy called cruel and proud—in the same tall, striking presence. Although he had greeted Mr Bingley with genuine warmth, when he was introduced to them, his countenance turned unpleasant, almost disgusted, as if a rotten smell surrounded them.

Until he looked at Jane! He stared at her as if he had seen a ghost!

If Mr Darcy proved as arrogant and disdainful as his expression hinted, it would give credence to all that Mr Wickham had said when he visited Longbourn. But his change in expression—his shock—made her wonder what he knew of Jane's attachment to Mr Wickham, and what, exactly, he thought of it. For good or ill, Mr Darcy had known Mr Wickham far longer than had the Bennets, and no matter how confusing her first impression of the former, Elizabeth was equally uncertain as to the character of the latter.

She had never imagined having such doubts in any man. No matter if it marked her as a terrible sister—she could not yet put her full faith in Jane's choice of husband.

It was not yet two months since Jane had shed her reserve and proclaimed her depth of feeling for a man she had barely come to know. While it was unlike Jane to reveal her feelings overmuch, her quiet happiness had been heartily embraced and echoed upon her return home. Since she had come back from Ramsgate, her head and heart filled with the joy of a handsome, kindly young man professing his love for her, the Bennets could speak of little else but Mr Wickham.

A week after Jane's return to Longbourn, Mr Wickham came to Meryton. He was as she had described him: tall, handsome, warm, and amiable. He had courted them all, presenting flowery words and perfectly phrased compliments, and made them promises. After he completed business at his future estate and the settlement was arranged, he would return so the banns could be read, and he would dance with all the Bennet ladies at the next assembly. When he advised Mrs Bennet to acquire a large trousseau , for he wished to show off Jane in London, the lady was speechless with joy.

Mr Wickham's smile wavered only when he gazed intently at Jane and his eyes darkened. For her part, Jane beamed and blushed, listening to her lover's drolleries and stories and compliments to Mrs Bennet on her table and her five delightful daughters, to Mr Bennet on his forbearance and wisdom, and to Cook, Mrs Hill, and anyone one else within earshot. Mr Bennet winked at Elizabeth. If he found Mr Wickham too ingratiating, his wife and youngest daughters found him charming. Jane seemed overwhelmed by his attentions.

He had not a disagreeable bone in his body—at least not until he explained meeting Jane in Ramsgate through a mutual acquaintance: a Miss Darcy, who was sister to the cruellest man in England. Cruellest to George Wickham, anyhow. Although Mr Wickham expressed fondness for the young lady whom Jane had so admired, he spoke with pained bitterness of the slights and petty cruelties shown him by the man who had been his boyhood friend, claiming his jealousy of Mr Wickham's ease in society and closeness to the elder Mr Darcy had turned him sour.

No matter that an inheritance promised to him was withdrawn when his godfather died and that he had been forced to rely on the benevolence of others to make his way in the world—Mr Wickham proclaimed that since he had found his own success, he could not say an unkind word about young Mr Darcy and besmirch the memory of the man's father.

And yet, Elizabeth noted, he did, and with no small reluctance. Mr Darcy's character had been thoroughly sketched in bold lines by a man who had not a harsh word for anyone else and who made Jane very happy. Thus, if she was bothered by the haste her beloved sister showed in giving over her heart to a man so recently met, Elizabeth attempted to set it aside in the face of such felicity.

Jane had shown her a letter he had written to her—missives Mr Bennet allowed as they were engaged, but which he may have halted in disgust had he read the flattering words and flaming panegyrics within them.

My dearest Jane,

How dull my days are without the hope of seeing your lovely face, of touching your soft hand, of feeling your sweet breath upon me. I shall never love another as I love you, nor cherish another as I cherish you. I shall always love only you. How I wish I could hear the sweet sound of your voice telling me you feel the same…

Elizabeth thought the letter overwrought and treacly, but her once-retiring sister clutched it to her breast. Mr Wickham seemed to know how to touch Jane's heart in a way Elizabeth had never expected. All of it was unsettling.

More than a fortnight after Mr Wickham had left for London, the effects of his lovemaking on the Bennet family and their neighbours had not lessened. However, his claim on Jane appeared especially unfortunate when, only days after departing to secure his estate, another young man arrived in Meryton. Mr Bingley's fortune was as obvious as the sincerity in the happy smile he bestowed upon everyone he met, and he was a good friend—‘like a brother!'—to the man disparaged by Elizabeth's own future brother.

It made her head ache.

"Lizzy, do slow down!"

Jane's breathless voice broke through Elizabeth's thoughts; she slowed her step and turned round to see her sister, arm in arm with Mary, a few paces behind her. Meryton and the gentlemen they had encountered there were well in the distance.

"I apologise. My mind was elsewhere."

"It certainly was," said Jane. "You could not rid yourself of Mr Darcy fast enough."

"You are too patient," murmured Elizabeth. "Were you not shocked to meet him?"

"Yes, Jane," said Mary. "Mr Wickham was quite voluble about the sins committed against him by his childhood friend. Mr Darcy may have come to create more trouble."

In spite of the flaming character Mr Wickham had assigned to Mr Darcy, Jane showed no concern that the man had come to Meryton to meddle in her betrothed's affairs. As much as Jane sought to see only the good in everyone, was it possible she doubted Mr Wickham's charges against Mr Darcy? Elizabeth glanced at her elder sister, surprised she appeared the only one among them who was not agitated. Perhaps Miss Darcy's avowals of her brother's goodness prevailed over the complaints aired and injuries alleged by Mr Wickham.

"Did you see how Mr Darcy looked at us," Elizabeth said carefully, hoping to provoke some response, "judging the Bennet sisters as beneath his notice? He behaved just as Mr Wickham claimed—measuring our worth in one short gaze and determining his friend must stay away. What did Mr Wickham call him? ‘A puffed-up prig'?"

Jane gasped. "He did not mean it, Lizzy! They merely misunderstand one another!"

Elizabeth sighed, wondering whether goodness could mask obtuseness. "Perhaps misunderstanding is the root of it."

"I shall snub the hateful Mr Darcy! He has been a terrible friend to Mr Wickham," Lydia cried.

Kitty nodded her agreement, while Mary exhibited her understanding that Jane would be distressed by discourtesy, however warranted, to anyone. "No, we must not embarrass Mr Bingley, no matter what his friend deserves."

"Come, Lizzy." Jane tucked her arm under Elizabeth's. "Mr Bingley has welcomed his friend to Netherfield. He likes Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham does not, but how is that different from how Mama and Aunt Philips differ in their opinion of Mrs Goulding? I am certain Mr Darcy cannot be as bad as one man says nor as wondrous as says the other."

Elizabeth gazed at Jane in astonishment. "Mr Bingley calls him ‘wondrous'?"

"‘A man of wondrous intelligence and generosity'."

Smiling with incredulity, Elizabeth said laughingly, "I could believe such praise from Miss Bingley. Her brother's admiration would be for Mr Darcy's tailcoats and horses."

Lydia erupted in laughter. Jane's contentment—or more likely, the male admirers she drew—enlivened Kitty and Lydia's spirits.

"Neither of them is so handsome as Mr Wickham, are they, Jane?" said Kitty.

"La, I wish I had three suitors wishing to court me," cried Lydia. "Mr Darcy may be awful, but he is very rich!"

The two sisters raced up Longbourn's drive, where Mrs Bennet stood, waving goodbye to Lady Lucas in a curricle driven by her youngest son. She turned in their direction, clearly having heard their words over the sounds of the wheels on the gravel path.

"Mr Darcy?" she cried. "Wickham's Mr Darcy?"

"He is at Netherfield," confirmed Kitty.

If it were possible, Elizabeth was certain her mother would swoon where she stood. Without the comfort of any soft chair or couch nearby, Mrs Bennet instead reached for Jane's hand and swore to protect her from the interloper.

"Mr Darcy dares come here to ruin our dear Wickham again! I shall not have it. Your father will have him run out of Meryton. He will not be welcome at Longbourn!"

Jane moved quickly to lead her mother inside to the small front parlour, where Mr Bennet occupied a corner chair, undoubtedly having hidden himself from his wife's company. "Mama, he is Mr Bingley's friend and is visiting Netherfield."

"That man should not be anyone's friend," she cried.

"We have only just been introduced to him," reasoned Jane as she settled Mrs Bennet into a comfortably padded chair. "Mr Wickham was injured by Mr Darcy, but Mr Bingley is all kindness and calls him a friend. No one man can be all good or all bad, and perhaps Mr Darcy presents himself differently dependent on the society."

Elizabeth bit her lip. Much as she could agree with her sister, Jane's determination to find the best in every creature was exasperating. This is how Mr Wickham won her heart so quickly! Her mother waved her handkerchief furiously, in sure warning of forthcoming indignance. "Mr Darcy is the very definition of a man who thinks himself above his company. Unlike his friends, who exhibit charm and kindness to all, this Mr Darcy will find little welcome in the neighbourhood, and none at Longbourn."

Mr Bennet looked up from his newspaper. His eyes twinkled, giving his daughters fair warning he was in a teasing mood. "Ah, Mrs Bennet—suppose he calls here with Mr Bingley?"

"His tea will be cold and his cake a day old."

Lydia and Kitty whooped with laughter. Mr Bennet seemed genuinely amused by his wife's vow of inhospitality and, with a wink at Elizabeth, proposed his own battle plans.

"Perhaps our Lizzy will be the one to sit by the dastard and keep him from our Jane. She has done well with the challenging Bingley sisters." Mr Bennet's drollery was lost on Elizabeth, but her mother quickly found the wisdom in it.

"Yes, Lizzy, you must do as your father says!"

"Mama—"

"Jane is too kind to those wishing for a sympathetic shoulder. Mr Darcy must have no opportunity to bend her ear. Lizzy, you must fend off his villainy and not fall prey to his wiles." Looking well satisfied with the plan, Mrs Bennet continued her praise of Elizabeth's conversational skills. "You must rally your wits to insult Mr Darcy as well."

Concern for Jane overrode Elizabeth's instinct to laugh, so she said, "We know very little of Mr Darcy beyond what we have been told by his friends at Netherfield."

"And by Mr Wickham, his former friend," supplied Kitty.

What does Mr Darcy think of Mr Wickham, and should we not find out? Elizabeth was certainly curious about the man. However, proposing such a rational idea to her family would likely lead Lydia and her mother into some sort of scheming and spying, and insult Jane, who had fended off Elizabeth's gently probing questions with smiling assurances that she was ‘beyond happy' with Mr Wickham.

"Mama, whatever their differences, I am certain Mr Wickham would not wish us to abuse Mr Darcy," said Jane. "Mr Bingley and his sisters would be pained if anyone insulted their guest. Miss Darcy is genteel and kind. I knew her only briefly, but she was my friend, and to injure her brother would be to injure her."

Although she pressed no further invectives, Mrs Bennet's eagerness for the advantages, present and future, presented by Mr Bingley's presence only three miles away proved too strong. She was certain he might mistake Lydia's brashness for charm and turn his attention to her. "We shall suffer his friend, but Mr Darcy will not be a guest at Jane's wedding breakfast." She smiled at Jane and turned her eye to Lydia. "Nor at any future weddings."

Kitty may have felt overlooked, but she was unwilling to accept the end of romantic drama. "I shall never dance with Mr Darcy at an assembly."

"La, why should he dance with you?" Lydia assumed the role of sage. "Of course, Mr Wickham would dance with us all, even Mary."

Rather than feeling any slight, Mary turned to her eldest sister. "Jane, perhaps you or Papa should write to Mr Wickham, if you feel yourself endangered by his proud and avaricious enemy. I would hate to imagine a brawl."

"An event certain to fill the imaginations of many," said Mr Bennet. "Let us say nothing and see how events turn out."