Without Vanity or Pride: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Duology

Chapter 7

“Icannot understand her. Lizzy?” Elizabeth startled at Jane’s gentle prod of her hand.

“I am sorry, Jane. You have caught me wool-gathering. Of what were you speaking?”

With a huff, her sister rolled onto her side and answered, “Miss Bingley, of course! Why do you think she has returned? She made it quite clear in London that our acquaintance was at an end.”

The two eldest Bennet sisters were huddled together on Elizabeth’s bed—a regular occurrence after the family retired for the night. Ordinarily, Elizabeth would have been thoroughly engaged with the topic at hand, particularly as it concerned her sister’s rekindled courtship. However, her thoughts continuously strayed to her afternoon’s chess match.

“I believe you know very well what my opinion will be when it concerns Miss Bingley.”

“She cannot be all bad, you know.”

“Ah, my dear sweet Jane, I am sorry to inform you that whatever goodness that lady possesses remains a mystery to me. I thought it clear that her purpose was to distract you from speaking to her brother. Poor Mr Bingley looked quite put out when I returned to the drawing room. Were you able to converse with him at all?”

“I confess I was not. Why were you with Papa for so long, if you do not mind me asking?”

Elizabeth continued her observation of the canopy. With his sudden return to Hertfordshire, she had not intended to share her thoughts on Mr Darcy with Jane, as keeping her disappointed hopes private seemed the best course. After their discussion over chess, however, perhaps she might gain clarity if she dared to voice her desires aloud.

“Mr Darcy and I were playing chess. Papa invited us to join him after we were discovered in the hall.”

“You were with Mr Darcy? I hope that was not too unsettling for you.”

Jane was all that was sympathetic, but once again, Elizabeth felt that mayhap it was time to enlighten her dearest sister of her complete change of heart regarding the gentleman. Anything else felt remarkably deceptive.

“’Twas not unsettling at all. In fact, I have come to enjoy his company. I know we have not spoken much of my stay in Derbyshire. The news of Lydia’s elopement all but rendered my new feelings irrelevant, but I confess that I have come to esteem Mr Darcy greatly. He is the best man of my acquaintance.”

The shock written upon Jane’s face was nearly comical before it softened into a look of understanding. “Oh my dear, dear Lizzy! Do you love him?”

“I confess I do,” Elizabeth softly admitted. “I had thought the situation to be hopeless, for how could he possibly entertain the notion of tying himself to our family when it now includes Mr Wickham? I did not think he could love me so well as that, but…but today in Papa’s study, I think he was trying to tell me that he loves me still. Of course, we could not speak plainly, but even so…”

Clasping her hand, Jane softly uttered, “Of course, he still loves you, for how could he not?”

Wiping away the tears that had suddenly clouded her vision, Elizabeth tightened her hold on Jane’s hand. “Thank you, Jane.” With her heart a bit lighter, Elizabeth was able to find sleep.

The next morning Elizabeth awoke to find her sister still sleeping beside her. While the previous night’s confessions had provided a much-needed release, she was suddenly filled with a restless energy that could only be satisfied by a cool, morning ramble.

Dressing quietly so as not to awaken Jane, Elizabeth twisted her hair into a simple chignon and grabbed a bonnet as she silently exited her bedroom. Stopping briefly at the kitchens, Elizabeth thanked Cook for a small parcel of fresh, hot rolls before making her way to the front vestibule to don her half boots.

Crisp, clean, autumn air filled Elizabeth’s lungs as she set off on her regular path through the back gardens and out of the gate into the pastureland beyond. Just as she closed the gate, an unwelcome voice startled her.

“I see I have finally caught you alone, Sister, though I did not expect you quite so early. Country hours, indeed.”

In that moment, Elizabeth struggled to recall why she had ever found Mr Wickham’s voice and manners appealing. Now, the slightest whisper of his hollow charm was utterly maddening.

“Were you waiting for me, sir? Though I have no experience in such matters, I find it highly irregular that a recently wed gentleman would seek the company of his new sister-in-law to the point of anticipating her on her morning’s stroll.”

“As I have said before, we have issues to discuss.”

“And I say we do not. Good day, sir,” Elizabeth pronounced with such feeling that Mr Wickham could be in no doubt of her desire for his departure.

“He will never marry you, you know,” Wickham called out to Elizabeth after she turned to walk away.

Shocked by his audacity, Elizabeth turned once more to face the most vile man of her acquaintance. Once he saw that her attention was engaged, he continued.

“I see your fondness for him, but Darcy’s family would never allow him to wed an insignificant country girl such as yourself. He is meant for a far more splendid match or so I heard repeatedly in our youth. Not that Darcy himself would ever condescend to make an offer in the first place, despite your…charms.” Wickham’s gaze roamed over her form, granting Elizabeth the fleeting urge to cast up her accounts.

“What business is this of yours, Mr Wickham? I will ask you plainly, please leave me be.”

Ignoring her request, he continued with a wounded expression. “You cannot know how put out your defection has made me. I thought us friends, yet you would champion the very man who, out of nothing more than jealousy, has denied me my rightful inheritance.”

Astonished at his temerity, Elizabeth decided then and there that simply ignoring Mr Wickham was no longer an option.

“As we are now brother and sister, I hope you will not take offence if I speak openly with you, sir.”

Mr Wickham merely smiled smugly. “Of course. Pray speak on.”

“You say Mr Darcy is jealous of you, but for my part, I cannot imagine why. For truly, if anyone has cause to be jealous, it would most certainly be you.”

Wickham’s smile tightened. “Come now. You cannot be serious.”

“I have thought on the fraudulent tales you have told me many times over the past several months, and yes, I am fully aware of the compensation you received for the living. In all honesty, I must say that I now struggle to understand how I ever gave your assertions any credit.” Elizabeth kept her voice calm and level. “Even if what you say has merit, and the late Mr Darcy did favour you so strongly, why should that inspire such a degree of jealousy in the present Mr Darcy who, by all other accounts I have heard, is an honourable man? You, however, possess none of Mr Darcy’s wealth, and I am sure that many, yourself included, covet his connexions, his estate, and his position in society. And to all this, your deficiencies appear only greater when one considers his character.”

“H-his character!” Wickham spluttered.

“Yes, indeed! I speak of his qualities that will always prove elusive to a man such as you—his upright nature, his innate goodness, his intelligence, and his determination to do what is best for those he loves. I am sure the late Mr Darcy must have found you amusing, a diversion of sorts from the pressures he bore in his position, but after hearing the reports of his character during my travels in Derbyshire, it is abundantly clear which young man would have garnered his approbation and no doubt his love.”

Mr Wickham’s countenance was frightening as he declared in a menacing tone, “Do not speak of matters you cannot possibly comprehend!”

Trembling, Elizabeth stood her ground. “Oh, I comprehend more than you would like! How dare you speak to me of friendship! You must think me a simpleton if you believe I would welcome a renewal of our earlier acquaintance. How could I feel any loyalty to the scoundrel who almost brought ruin down on my entire family! Believe me, I know exactly whose honour saved my family’s reputation, and it was not yours. I am only relieved that you failed to cause similar devastation to Mr Darcy’s poor, sweet sister.”

Angry tears flowed down Elizabeth’s face as Mr Wickham stared at her in shock. That she would have knowledge of his attempt to ruin Georgiana Darcy and abscond with her dowry had clearly never occurred to him.

Having decided that she had said enough, Elizabeth made to turn and leave, but as she did so, she spied her two youngest sisters watching them out the windows overlooking the garden. Kitty stood, supporting her sister’s weight, while Lydia stared at the pair of them with a murderous expression. Unwilling to deal with her sister’s misplaced jealousy over the miscreant she had married, Elizabeth attempted to calm herself as she dismissed the man in front of her.

“I believe we understand one another now, Mr Wickham. Pray excuse me. I would like to still partake of my morning’s exercise, and perhaps you ought to see to the needs of your wife.”

Not even bothering to confirm the blackguard’s return to the house, Elizabeth nearly ran to the shelter of the orchard. Upon reaching her destination, she collapsed against a tree, utterly spent from the unexpected confrontation. Taking a seat amongst the fallen leaves, Elizabeth wiped the tears from her face, unsure as to why she was crying. While frightened at times during their encounter, above all, she felt an abundance of relief that she had finally expressed her true opinion of that vile, hateful man!

Considering the Wickhams’ extended residence in Longbourn, her speech was perhaps imprudent, but try as she might, Elizabeth could not bring herself to regret it. After regaining a semblance of equanimity, she rose and dusted the broken leaves from her morning gown and made her way back towards the house. Hoping to enter unseen, her attempt was dashed by the sound of carriage wheels upon Longbourn’s drive. The Netherfield party had arrived, and just as Mr Darcy stepped down from the carriage, his concerned gaze informing Elizabeth of her failure to hide her earlier distress, an angry wail was heard from the interior of the house.