17. Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
November 19, 1811 Longbourn, Hertfordshire Elizabeth
M r. Collins’s presence quickly became unbelievably oppressive. He seemed to gravitate toward Jane at first, but after the evening meal that night, he moved around the room, speaking to each of the other four sisters and lingering at Elizabeth’s side. She saw Mrs. Bennet’s disapproving looks and tried to redirect him toward Kitty or Lydia. The man stubbornly refused to move from the settee, commenting on the neatness of Elizabeth’s stitches and the lovely pattern she embroidered onto a handkerchief.
The next morning, Elizabeth overheard her stepmother speaking to Mr. Collins.
“Sir, would you not rather pursue Kitty or Lydia? They are more obliging than Lizzy, and more lively! You will not want for entertainment or attention.”
“They are full young, Mrs. Bennet. Miss Bennet would be my first choice, but as you have declared her nearly engaged to a neighbor, I must go to the next oldest sister. Miss Elizabeth is lovely and has a kindness about her. Yes, she will do very nicely.”
“I must warn you, sir, that she and Miss Mary are Mr. Bennet’s favorite daughters.”
That must have cost her, Elizabeth thought, amused.
“And?”
“And as such, he will not part with them to just anyone. He has plans for them that do not involve marrying so soon.”
“My cousin does not have an heir,” Mr. Collins said condescendingly. “He will not refuse my suit. I am a suitable gentleman. What impediment could there be?”
When the confrontation with Mr. Collins yielded no results, Mrs. Bennet cornered Elizabeth in the parlor.
“Dear Elizabeth,” she said, practically choking on the tender endearment. “I wish to discuss Mr. Collins with you.”
She was not about to make this easy on the woman who had so tormented her for years. “Go on,” she said.
“He has determined that you should be his wife. I know—and you know—that your father and your uncle would never agree.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, that is true.” When she said no more, Mrs. Bennet continued.
“I wish you to deter him,” she said. “Redirect him to the younger girls. Detail their qualities and urge him to consider one of them.”
“And if he resists my efforts?”
Mrs. Bennet’s false kindness melted away and a steely glint glistened in her eyes. “If he proposes, you are to refuse him. Your father will support you, and I will make no protest. It will open the way for Lydia or Kitty.”
“It will be no trouble to do so, madam. I do not believe he and I will suit.”
Immediately, her stepmother grew defensive. “You are far too fastidious, Miss Lizzy. It is a good thing that you and your selfish sister have dowries, for you will never marry with that attitude.” She turned to go.
“One more thing, madam.” Mrs. Bennet paused. “If I refuse him,” Elizabeth continued, “would he consider offering for one of my sisters? A scorned man might flee the house.”
“You leave that to me. One way or another, Mr. Collins will marry one of my daughters.” Mrs. Bennet glided swiftly away, leaving a bemused Elizabeth in the parlor.
It was agreed later that afternoon that they would all walk into Meryton. Elizabeth longed to stretch her legs out of doors. The autumn air was brisk and chilly, and there was a feeling in the air that suggested rain would come soon.
Kitty and Lydia latched onto either side of Mr. Collins. They bantered back and forth, talking over each other and competing for their cousin’s attention. Mr. Collins did not attempt to break away and seemed somewhat amused by the girls’ manner.
The man was certainly aware of his physical attributes. Every time they passed a reflective surface, he stopped to look at his reflection. Elizabeth recalled the story of Narcissus, the vain Greek who died of starvation because he could not be moved from the pond where he saw his reflection.
They reached Meryton and made their way down the main street. Elizabeth walked behind Lydia and witnessed the moment when her sister spotted the officers. She almost released Mr. Collins’s arm but hesitated, glancing between the soldiers and the captive man that stood beside her, resolving to stay by Mr. Collins. She tugged them toward the redcoats. They stood with an unfamiliar man in a blue coat.
As they neared, Elizabeth was arrested by his features. He had dark blond hair and dark eyes and there were curls just above his collar.
“Denny!” Lydia said enthusiastically. “I did not expect you back from London so soon.”
“Yet here I am, Miss Lydia,” Captain Denny replied. “And I have brought a friend. This is Mr. Wickham.” He gestured to the man in the blue coat. “He has come to join the regiment.”
“You will look very handsome in a red coat, sir,” Kitty simpered.
“Wickham, these are the Bennets of Longbourn. Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, Miss Kitty, and Miss Lydia. Ladies, Mr. Wickham.”
“How do you do, sir?” Jane said. “May we present our cousin, Mr. Collins?”
Elizabeth watched the two men examine each other. Both were very handsome, with striking features one did not forget easily.
“Sir,” Mr. Collins said. “Welcome to Meryton. I have just arrived myself and will be my cousins’ guest for two weeks.”
“It is a pleasure,” Mr. Wickham said. His voice was warm and rich. He sounded good natured, and Elizabeth immediately felt drawn to him.
Jane looked off into the distance and Elizabeth turned to see what caught her eye. Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy approached on horseback. They slowed as they neared, and Mr. Bingley called out a greeting. His friend’s normally stoic face had a curious expression. Elizabeth followed his gaze and saw the moment Mr. Wickham saw the newcomers. The man’s face paled, and he swallowed hard. Looking back at Mr. Darcy, she saw his face darken in rage before he turned his horse and kicked it into a gallop, riding away as fast as he could.
How curious.
They were obliged to depart soon thereafter. Jane, Kitty, and Lydia were to take tea with their aunt, Mrs. Phillips. Unlike Mr. Gardiner, that lady had not welcomed her sister’s stepdaughters. Mary and Elizabeth only received invitations into her home for evening functions, and only if their father was present.
Mary and Elizabeth instead turned toward Longbourn. The others had spirited Mr. Collins away, declaring that he must meet Mrs. Phillips before her card party the next evening. Torn between meeting the matron and staying by Elizabeth’s side, he was dragged off toward the Phillips’s residence.
“He is nonsensical,” she said to Mary. “Just a half an hour in his company, and his manner of speaking, his conversation, has proven him to be inept and foolish. I cannot abide a stupid man.”
“Lydia does not seem to care about that.”
“I imagine she would say, I do not care about any of that. Only imagine how I will look on his arm! Did you see her deciding between Mr. Wickham and Mr. Collins?”
Mary laughed. “Yes. I believe she chose our cousin. He puts Mr. Wickham to shame.”
“So many handsome men in Meryton lately,” Elizabeth observed.
“Yes, Mr. Darcy is handsome, too.” Mary grinned and nudged her sister. “Even if he is so fastidious. Mr. Wickham seems charming.”
Elizabeth sighed. “He is indeed. It is a pity that he has not the consequence to go with it. Uncle Mavery would never approve.”
“He would if you loved him.”
Elizabeth laughed. “He might, but perhaps it is wise to continue keeping our consequence to ourselves. Mrs. Bennet and Jane will certainly not share. They do not want any competition for Kitty and Lydia.” She chuckled again. “What are we about, speaking of love and matrimony after but a five-minute conversation? Have we gone daft?”
Laughing together, they continued to Longbourn. They went their separate ways when they reached the house. Elizabeth wished Miss Lane was here. Their governess—soon to be companion—had often offered sound advice when they needed it.
“And I am more confused than ever,” she said aloud.
The next evening, the entire family went to Mrs. Phillips’s home for a card party. Elizabeth and Mary were greeted tersely and then ignored. They wandered off to find entertainment. Mary soon settled with the Misses Long and Elizabeth took a glass of punch to a chair near the window.
“Why are you over here all alone?” Mr. Wickham took the chair next to hers.
“My sisters and family are occupied,” Elizabeth replied. “Since I am not inclined to play cards tonight, I decided to observe from the side.”
“Such a lovely lady must not hide away.” His handsome smile drew her in, and she felt her face go hot. “Truly,” he continued, “I have never met prettier ladies.”
His words reminded her of Mr. Bingley’s from the Meryton assembly, and she frowned.
“Did I say something to upset you?” he asked contritely. “I assure you, I meant no offense.”
“It is not you, sir. Merely unpleasant memories.” She shook her head.
They spoke of trivial nothings for a while, and with each passing moment, Elizabeth grew more attracted to the handsome soldier. He was engaging and kind, and his flattery, though obvious, seemed sincere and not overdone.
He paused to take a drink from his glass, and when he had soothed his dry throat, he changed the subject. “Tell me, how long has Mr. Darcy been in the area?”
Elizabeth had been too circumspect to bring it up herself, but now that the conversation had been opened, she eagerly answered. “But two months, sir,” she said.
“And is he well received here?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. He holds himself above the company, and his refusal to engage with the neighborhood has not earned him any supporters. Even Mrs. Bennet will not throw her daughters at him, and he is worth twice as much as Mr. Bingley.” She paused her rant and sucked in a breath. “You know him, then?”
“I know him better than any other alive, for we spent our childhood together. My father was the old Mr. Darcy’s steward. Both men were friends. Mr. Darcy Senior was my godfather, and a better man never lived. He treated me like a second son, paid for my education, and in his will, he left me a living at Kympton.”
Elizabeth’s puzzlement must have shown on her face, for he grimaced and continued. “As you can see by my red coat, my godfather’s wishes were not fulfilled by his son. The man had no sooner been interred than he cast me out.”
“Whatever for? What could cause a man to behave so abominably to one as close as a brother?” Furious, she took a drink lest she say something unladylike.
“He was jealous, I think, of his father’s feelings for me. Mr. Darcy preferred me to his own son, and the heir could not stand it. So, when it was within his power to do so, he banished me from his estate. The living came available, and it was given to another.” Mr. Wickham sighed, and Elizabeth thought she saw tears in his eyes.
“Is there no legal recourse?” she asked sympathetically.
“None at all. The terms of the bequest were so informal so as to make legal pursuit impossible. Now I must make my own way in the world.”
She reached out and touched his arm. “I had no idea he was as bad as all that,” she said. “I knew him to be unpleasant and rude, but never cruel!”
“I sense he has offended you personally. What have you to accuse him of?”
She scoffed. “He has declared me and my sister Mary tolerable and not handsome enough to tempt him.”
He leaned nearer, his lips close to her ear. “Then he is blind as well as daft,” he said. His breath tickled her neck, and a thrill rushed through her. Mary’s words that Uncle Mavery would approve of if she loved a man danced in her head.
He leaned away and grinned. A noise across the room drew their attention. Lydia held tightly to Mr. Collins’s arm, laughing loudly at something her aunt had said. The gentleman seemed to be taking it all in stride, his handsome grin on display for all to see.
“Is your sister engaged to your cousin?” Mr. Wickham asked.
“Not officially,” Elizabeth said. She had no doubt that Mrs. Bennet and Lydia would see it done, eventually.
She thought she saw relief on Mr. Wickham’s face and wondered briefly why such news would bring reassurance. Surely, he was not worried about competing with Mr. Collins.
A gaggle of females had surrounded Lydia and the aforementioned gentleman. Perhaps Mr. Wickham is more accustomed to that sort of attention and is not used to sharing. The idea amused her; what a ridiculous notion!
Mr. Wickham stayed by her side throughout the rest of the evening, declaring that if she had no desire to play cards, then neither did he. Kitty wandered over once and attempted to secure his attention, but he could not be persuaded away from Elizabeth’s company.
Kitty’s complaints to Mrs. Bennet went unheeded, and the girl stalked off to pout in a corner. Mary and the Misses Long kept each other company, much to Elizabeth’s delight. Mary did not often enjoy social gatherings, but her friendship with the Misses Long provided her with ample conversation and kept her from Mrs. Bennet’s attention and thus her criticisms.
Mr. Wickham was witty and charming. He happily described his childhood home and related the exploits he had got up to. She laughed at his tales and wondered how many were true and how many he exaggerated. When she called him to task for telling tales, he looked affronted and declared adamantly that he had told nothing but the truth. The wink of his eye belied his words, and she laughed even more. It had been some time since she enjoyed an evening so fully.
Much later, as she lay in bed, Elizabeth contemplated the influx of eligible gentlemen in the area. How could such attractive men have such different characters? One was a proud, haughty man, the next ridiculous and silly, and the last charming and affable. And she could not forget Mr. Bingley. He, too, seemed a pleasant sort.
Looks are not everything, she mused as she drifted off to sleep. A handsome face does not necessarily require a matching character. I shall have to give the matter further thought. For now, Lydia makes progress in securing Mr. Collins, which means I do not face Mrs. Bennet’s wrath.
Her sleepy thoughts did not wonder if an attractive countenance and charming character could mask other, less desirable traits.