The Introduction
They watched as a few more merchants approached, and the clerk tallied the final total.
As Mr Follet rose laboriously once again, Elizabeth noticed another pair riding in.
“Oh, this should be… interesting. I wonder if Mr Wickham’s day is about to get even worse… though in fairness, the tar and feathers are not a fait accompli just yet. It has rarely been used in this century, and it is more of a mob tactic than legal justice.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, unable to see the riders from her vantage point.
“That is Mr Darcy. Nobody likes him very much, and he once boasted to me that ‘his good opinion, once lost, was lost forever’. Mr Wickham has said some very uncomplimentary things about that gentleman, and I suspect his last hope of any reprieve just evaporated like a puff of smoke.”
Her companion gasped and stammered, “Mr Darcy… Can… can… can he see us?”
Elizabeth observed her pallor. Considering she had shrugged off tar and feathers without flinching, she wondered if there was a second Derbyshire man on her disapprobation list and what Mr Darcy had done to discompose her.
She replied calmly, “Be easy. He cannot see or hear us if we remain quiet.”
Her companion exhaled in relief and crossed to join Elizabeth on her side of the window just in time to see Mr Darcy descend from his horse as Mr Follet laboriously turned towards him with a questioning look.
The girl asked idly, “Why does nobody like him?”
“Because he is arrogant, conceited, rude, above his company, and generally disagreeable. He slighted me before we were even introduced by declaring me ‘not handsome enough to tempt him to dance’; he asserted I was ‘slighted by other men’, just because I sat out a dance to give other ladies a chance for the partners. Beyond that, we have quarrelled just about every time we met since. I was confined with him at Netherfield taking care of my sister for the four longest and most uncomfortable days of my life, and with a family like mine, that says a great deal.”
“Sounds abominable,” she agreed shakily.
“I suppose the men probably find him an adequate companion, and his friend Miss Bingley practically fawns in his presence, but I would as soon never lay eyes on him again.”
She paused a moment but felt compelled to add, “In fairness, an hour ago I thought him selfish, arrogant, above his company, rude, and dishonourable; but I now realise it was Mr Wickham’s words depicting him as dishonourable, so I suppose I must remove the last adjective from that list.”
With a snort, her companion said, “Not much of an improvement!”
Elizabeth chuckled, wondering what possessed her to speak so freely with a complete stranger.
She supposed that once one discussed tar and feathers, and learned your companion was most likely an avenging angel; minor gossip about a man neither of them was likely ever to see again was not much worse.
Elizabeth considered introducing herself and asking for the same in return but thought better of it. They were doing well enough and it was time to let one story finish before starting another.
During their discussion, the two Netherfield gentlemen had dismounted and joined the crowd.
Mr Bingley stepped forward. “Mr Follet, I do not wish to interrupt your proceedings, but may I introduce my good friend, Mr Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire?”
“A pleasure, Mr Darcy,” the magistrate said and shook his head at Wickham, who looked even more frightened than before.
Before Mr Darcy could answer, Mr Follet turned back towards Wickham and stumbled.
Mr Darcy, to his credit, moved like lightning and prevented the magistrate from falling. He righted the man and released him.
“I thank you, sir. The gout is about to be the death of me.”
“Too much meat—” Mr Darcy replied, and Elizabeth gasped and stared at her companion, who was busily looking anywhere but at her.
Much to Elizabeth’s surprise, Mr Darcy sounded both serious and nearly jovial as he continued.
“Gout is called ‘the disease of kings and gentlemen.’ My uncle, the Earl of Matlock, suffered terribly from it until he consulted an Indian physician. He attributes it to too much meat and drink, and not enough vegetables and water. A change in diet was all my uncle required to improve. Now his gout is much better, but he can hardly hold his head up in Parliament after admitting an Indian physician is superior to an Englishman.”
Elizabeth looked at her companion, feeling every suspicion in the world, and wondering if she should throw her from the office forthwith.
She stared at her for a moment, but the girl was still not meeting her eyes, and with a sigh, she turned back to the tableau in front of her.
Mr Follet asked, “Do you know this man?”
“I do, and I will assert he is exactly where he should have been long ago, much to my chagrin.”
“I suppose that means you have no intention of defending him?”
“To the contrary, I have protected and supported him for years out of a misguided sense of loyalty to my father, who was his godfather. The militia was his very last chance of reform, but I suppose he failed miserably.”
Mr Follet pointed past Mr Bingley to the three boys returning with their various bags, buckets, and braziers. “Those boys have tar and feathers in mind, and I am presently inclined to allow them their sport.”
“You will have no objection from me, and since I failed to warn the townspeople, I will repay half of his debts for anything save vice.”
“You do not consider the tavern vice?” Mr Sims asked loudly.
Darcy looked at him sternly. “I do. Lending money to men for drink is pure recklessness, and I will not be party to it.”
“Good for him,” Elizabeth said absently.
“Why?”
“Because he is right, for once in his life.”
Mr Darcy had said it loudly enough to be heard, but he added another warning in a voice sufficiently loud and stern to compete with the blacksmith.
“This man is a profligate liar as well as a cheat. When his long-overdue punishment begins, he will slander everyone he has ever heard of. He will claim he compromised your sister, my sister, your maiden aunt, Queen Charlotte—anyone and everyone. It is good to remember that if he speaks, he lies. I will expend every effort to protect anyone so slandered, but you would all be best advised to ignore anything he says, and you certainly should not repeat it.”
Mr Follet said, “Oh, his lips will be far too busy to be spreading slander, but in any case, I propose I deliver judgement so these boys can proceed with their work.”
He looked around at the onlookers who seemed ready to enjoy the sight of torture. “Which shall proceed in a more secured setting. We are not a mob!”
He nodded to Tom. “Master Kendall, take the prisoner somewhere more private and I will be along directly to supervise. Do not begin without me.”
He turned to the rest of the onlookers. “I am certain the rest of you have other business to attend to. I will give my list to Mr Darcy, and he will repay all or none of what you foolishly lent this scoundrel as he chooses. You may want to consider the other officers’ solvency as well.
I doubt he will remedy your imprudence a second time. ”
He hobbled towards the blacksmith shop, while Mr Darcy unaccountably moved to stand directly in front of their window, apparently uninterested in witnessing Mr Wickham’s punishment.