Chapter VII
Avoidance was Elizabeth’s chosen strategy, at least for the first part of the evening.
There were sufficient people in attendance to allow Elizabeth to remain aloof from Mr. Wickham so long as she kept her wits about her.
The officer in question seemed to view this with a certain measure of sardonic amusement, but he allowed the distance between them, understanding that he could afford to be patient.
Mr. Wickham was a fascinating study. Elizabeth did not think that he had ever been challenged in a way that defied his preferred narrative.
The way he watched her suggested he was trying to understand where he had gone wrong, or he may have been trying to determine how he could bring her under his influence.
What he did not understand was that Elizabeth did not mean to allow him any control over her—then or ever.
Perhaps he focused his attentions on silly young ladies of Lydia’s ilk, but Elizabeth had more than a bit of fluff in her head.
“If you will pardon my saying it,” said Mary, not long after the Bennet sisters had arrived, “I dislike Mr. Wickham’s looks tonight.”
Elizabeth was unsurprised that Mary had seen it too.
Nor was she surprised when Kitty appeared to be watching Mr. Wickham as if he were a feral animal ready to strike at any moment.
Even Jane, who was more willing to allow poor behavior in others, believing in their good intentions, noted something of Mr. Wickham’s malevolence.
“Lizzy, did you offend Mr. Wickham?”
“The offense is all on his side, Jane.” Elizabeth regarded her sister with no little affection. “He is not a good man.”
Jane’s expression turned stern. “I sense there is something you have not told me, Lizzy. Should I feel neglected?”
“Not at all, sister dearest,” said Elizabeth. “I told you some, but not all. Some of it includes confidences I cannot break.”
“Then you must tell me what you can,” said Jane, not offended in the least—Elizabeth had not expected it.
“Very well,” said Elizabeth. “But not here.”
After Elizabeth’s conversation with Jane, she took care to remain in the company of others, not giving Mr. Wickham the chance to approach her alone.
Unfortunately, as she might have expected, Lydia also remained unhappy with her, and she expressed this displeasure by speaking with Mr. Wickham at every opportunity.
From what Elizabeth could see, Lydia did not speak to him about the last few days or make any mention of her activities during that time.
At least she was discrete enough to hold her peace on that score, not that Mr. Wickham needed any confirmation.
As was usual at her aunt’s parties, there were several tables set up for cards.
On one side of the room, Mrs. Philips had set up two Whist tables, while several others played Casino, Quadrille, or Commerce.
Since Elizabeth wished to avoid Mr. Wickham for a time, she obliged her aunt by partnering at Whist, which kept her away from Mr. Wickham, who appeared content to watch.
In time, even Lydia’s attention on the officer waned in favor of the lure of the card tables.
Casino was a special favorite of Lydia’s, and soon she was engrossed in a game.
Knowing that Lydia was at least separate from Mr. Wickham for a time eased Elizabeth’s concerns and allowed her to focus on the game.
Unfortunate though it was, this state of affairs did not persist long.
When Elizabeth grew tired of Whist, she rose from the table and looked out over the room.
Mr. Wickham, she saw, was standing in a group of officers and some ladies of the town, though Elizabeth saw how he watched the room.
For a moment after she rose, Elizabeth thought he would approach her, but as she took her place near another group of local ladies, he again decided that discretion was the better part of valor.
There was another, however, who had never practiced discretion.
“Are you happy?” spat Lydia, not caring to modulate her voice. “You have everyone speaking of Mr. Wickham as if he were naught but a criminal.”
Lydia did not remain long enough for Elizabeth to respond; instead, she flounced away in that stupid manner of hers that suggested she held the answers to all life’s questions.
Elizabeth watched her go, not caring at all for the girl’s opinions.
If she had stopped there, Elizabeth would have endured her disrespect.
But Lydia did not understand the concept of prudence.
“I cannot understand why you would believe such a dour man as Mr. Darcy,” said Lydia a little later in the evening, then retreating at once as if knowing Elizabeth was on the verge of calling her to order.
“Why Mr. Wickham saw anything in you is beyond my comprehension.
“You are not so smart as you think.
“I shall undo all the damage you have done to Mr. Wickham’s reputation.”
By the time Lydia uttered this last, Elizabeth had had enough of the girl’s continued biting comments.
Though Lydia tried to escape as she had every other time she had opened her mouth, Elizabeth caught the girl’s arm and led her to a quiet corner of the room, ignoring her indignant squawks and the glances of others.
Mr. Wickham, she noted, watched it all with an unreadable expression.
When they reached the corner, Elizabeth turned and glared at her sister, tapping her foot with impatience.
Lydia’s mulish scowl told Elizabeth that she would not listen easily, but Elizabeth did not care for her feelings.
She was the elder sibling, and Lydia would listen to her whether or not she wanted to.
“What do you have to say for yourself?”
“You are not Mama!” retorted Lydia. “I do not need—”
“Yes, you do!” rejoined Elizabeth, her gaze impaling her foolish younger sister. “I am your elder, Lydia, and you will listen to me and do as I say.”
Knowing as she did that Lydia had little respect for authority—a result of her father’s lackadaisical parenting style and her mother’s silliness—Elizabeth might have thought Lydia would try to leave.
The girl seemed to sense that Elizabeth was not willing to accept further insolence, and the sense of wariness she had often felt for Elizabeth when she was angry appeared.
Though presenting outward defiance, Lydia scowled and looked down, her rigid posture was evidence of her continued anger, though she did not challenge Elizabeth further.
“Let me make a few things clear to you, Lydia,” said Elizabeth, now keeping her voice a little lower.
“First, you are never to behave that way to me, for I will not endure it. I am not impressed by your show of temper, nor am I moved by your convictions. Respect, Lydia, is due to those who earn it—I will not accept disrespect from a foolish girl who should not even be out of the schoolroom.”
Anger flashed again in Lydia’s eyes, but she seemed to sense that argument would accomplish nothing. “Lizzy,” said she, a pleading note in her voice, “you are humiliating me in front of the officers.”
“And you deserve it, given your behavior. Shall you show me the deference due to your elder sibling, or shall I have Uncle Philips confine you to a bedchamber upstairs until it is time to return home?”
Lydia blanched and shook her head, which Elizabeth took as agreement enough.
“Good. Now, let me remind you about Mr. Wickham, Lydia.” This Elizabeth said in a softer tone, not wishing the entire room to overhear.
“We know nothing of the officer that he has not told us himself.
Discount all Mr. Darcy said about him if you wish, but that does not change the fact that Mr. Wickham fixed on a young woman possessing a newly acquired fortune and followed her to Liverpool when her uncles disapproved of him.
However you look at it, that was the work of an opportunist.
“Mr. Wickham is a man of whom we should be wary for that reason alone. I dislike the way he has looked at us all night. For the rest of the evening, you will stay away from Mr. Wickham, and you will cease these objectionable comments to me. If you do not, I shall tell Papa about your behavior tonight.”
Temper returning, Lydia rejoined: “Papa will do nothing.”
“Continue this, and we shall see,” replied Elizabeth. “Papa does not use his authority often, but you know he does not tolerate disrespect. If I inform him of your insolence, what do you think he will do?”
Though she squirmed, Lydia knew the answer to that question. “Papa favors you.”
“Whether that is true is not the issue,” replied Elizabeth, deciding that now she had been firm, it was time to soften a little. “Papa would not allow disrespect for Jane, any more than he allows it for me. Moderate your words, Lydia, and we will have no reason for acrimony.”
With evident sullenness, Lydia nodded, and Elizabeth allowed her to walk away, her head hanging with mortification.
Elizabeth watched her go, noting that Kitty made her way to Lydia’s side at once, speaking to her sister in low tones.
They did not approach the officers, many of whom were watching with undisguised interest, and for that, Elizabeth was grateful.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Belatedly, Elizabeth realized she had not seen Mr. Wickham in the room, and when she turned, she understood why, for the officer had approached her while she was distracted.
Elizabeth could not say if he had overheard her reprimand, but he did not look at all amused.
The confrontation she had been avoiding all evening had come.