Chapter Two
Elizabeth sat with Jane on a small settee, watching and bemoaning the antics of Lydia and Kitty, while Mary stayed in a corner reading, looking up now and then to scowl in the direction of her younger sisters.
She loved all of them as though they were her true sisters since she’d come to live with them at four years of age.
Her father, James Bennet, was the second son and third born to Henry and Rose Bennet.
He had gone into the navy when he was but a lad, rising to the rank of Captain.
While his ship underwent repairs in Spain, he met and married the beautiful Isabella de Cortez.
Wanting to start a family, he retired and returned to England, where he purchased a lovely estate near his brother and, once settled, was blessed with a beautiful daughter.
The first four years of Elizabeth’s life were golden.
Then Fate stepped in and took not only Isabella but also her unborn baby in a terrible carriage accident.
Her father, distraught with grief, turned to his elder brother and asked that he raise Elizabeth as his own.
James Bennet then took over a new command in the Royal Navy, perishing at sea three years later.
Elizabeth and Jane had bonded almost immediately, as there was only a year between them.
Elizabeth quickly became more of a sister than a cousin.
Even the citizens of Meryton looked at her as Thomas Bennet’s second daughter.
The fact that she was slight in stature, with mahogany curls and exotic dark eyes, while her sisters were tall, fair-haired, and blue-eyed, was rarely mentioned.
Very few remembered her origins or even James Bennet, for that matter.
Elizabeth’s best friend Charlotte Lucas did because she had been ten when the tiny little girl came to live at Longbourn.
Elizabeth’s memories of her father were of a large man with a ready smile and laugh who would lift her high above his head and make her squeal with delight.
Her mother always teased the edges of her memory by way of a soft voice that had sung her to sleep or soothed her bumps and bruises.
She still had in her possession a bottle of Mamma’s Jasmine perfume, and she guarded it as though it were a king’s treasure.
It was her greatest desire to wear the perfume, along with the string of pearls her father had gifted her mother on their wedding day when she walked down the aisle to meet the man she loved.
She wanted, in some small way, for her parents to be with her when that happy occasion arrived.
Her only link with her mother’s family had been quarterly letters from her grandfather, who had passed on more than five years ago.
Grandfather de Cortez’s vast estate was inherited by a cousin in Barcelona, but all her grandmother’s jewels were sent to her via courier, and now sat safely in a vault, alongside her mother’s, in a bank in London.
The garnet cross necklace she wore had been her mother’s.
It was a tangible link to her past and gave Elizabeth great comfort.
The estate she’d inherited from her father was currently leased, and her aunt’s brother in London managed all her assets and money, which consisted of her grandmother’s and mother’s dowries as well as her father’s fortune.
No one but Uncle Gardiner, Mr. Bennet, and Elizabeth knew the true value of her worth.
Her reverie was disrupted when Mr. Wickham approached and asked if he could join her and Jane.
At their assent, he lowered himself into the chair opposite and began to regale them with tales of his training, the mishaps, as well as the successes he and his fellow officers enjoyed.
His stories were so entertaining that Elizabeth’s cheeks ached from smiling.
On the surface, there was much to recommend this handsome young man, and she had to admit, she was not surprised his attentions were focused on Jane.
Her eldest cousin was an undisputed beauty.
Tall and slim with hair the color of burnished wheat and azure blue eyes, most men came to a stuttering stop when they first laid eyes on her.
She had an air of innocence that transcended description.
Jane saw only the good in people. One had to work very hard to earn her anger, and when they did, they had best stay out of her way.
She became an avenging angel when defending those she loved, as Jonathan Lucas found out to his detriment when they were all around the age of fourteen.
Thankfully, the scar above his eye had healed quite nicely, and he held no ill will toward her.
Unlike her cousin, Elizabeth did not see everyone in a glow of golden light, which was unfortunate for Mr. Wickham.
While his manners were engaging, they seemed forced.
While his smile was quick and ready, it did not meet his eyes.
And most telling, while his lithe body seemed at ease in the chair, he kept a vigilant eye on the door as though calculating how long it would take to make a quick exit.
Elizabeth had taken the measure of this man and found him wanting, and would remain cautious while also keeping a watchful eye on her cousins. The two youngest could very easily fall prey to his well-practiced routine.
“How long has Mr. Darcy been in Hertfordshire?” Mr. Wickham asked Jane.
Immediately, Elizabeth noted his tone had changed, causing her to believe the real reason he’d sought them out was for more information on the taciturn gentleman from Derbyshire.
She then remembered Lydia laughing over how Mr. Wickham had seemed pleased by Mr. Darcy’s abrupt departure from their company the day prior.
“About a month, sir,” Jane replied
“He is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I understand,” Elizabeth added.
“Indeed,” replied Wickham. “His estate there is a noble one. You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that head than myself, for I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from my infancy.”
Both Jane and Elizabeth looked at each other, eyes widened in surprise.
“You may be surprised, Miss Bennet,” said Wickham with a slight nod toward Jane, “at such an assertion after seeing the frigid manner of our greeting yesterday.”
“I admit, sir, I did not notice.”
Here Jane blushed, and Elizabeth knew very well her cousin hadn’t noticed anything beyond Mr. Bingley.
Mr. Darcy could have jumped off his stallion and danced the whirling dervish, and she still would not have seen anything beyond the amiable gentleman from Netherfield.
Mr. Wickham frowned. Elizabeth had an inkling the conversation was not going as planned for the handsome officer.
“He is not at all liked in Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted with his pride,” she said to test the waters.
“Something which does not happen very often.” A sly smile slid across Mr. Wickham’s face, and then his features smoothed once more. “The world is blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his high and imposing manners, and sees him only as he chooses to be seen.”
“I like to think we, and our neighbors, judge a man by his character and not by wealth and property alone.”
“I wonder whether he is likely to be in this part of the country much longer.”
Although Elizabeth found this an odd thing to say, she responded politely with, “My sister and I were in his company for a week, and at the time, I heard nothing of his going away.”
“That is too bad. We are not on friendly terms, and it always gives me pain to meet him. His father, the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed, and I can never be in company with this Mr. Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a thousand tender recollections.”
Further discovery came to a halt when another officer joined them, and Mr. Wickham began to speak on more general topics, Meryton, the neighborhood, the society, appearing highly pleased with all that he had encountered so far.
“Whatever made you choose the militia, Mr. Wickham?” Jane asked when it was just the three of them again.
“The prospect of constant society and good society was my chief inducement. I knew the militia to be a most respectable, agreeable corps, and my friend Denny further tempted me with his account of their present quarters and the very great attention and excellent acquaintance Meryton had procured them.”
“We are glad our little community is so well thought of.”
“My spirits will not bear solitude. I must have employment and society. Military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have now made it eligible. The church ought to have been my profession, and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living had it pleased the gentleman we were speaking of earlier.”
“Indeed!”
“Yes, the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. He was my godfather and excessively attached to me, but when the living fell open two years ago, it was given elsewhere by his son.”
“Good heavens!” cried Elizabeth. “Why did you not seek legal redress?”
At first, she felt judicious anger toward the arrogant man from Derbyshire who had withheld a valuable living from his father’s godson, but then… Mr. Wickham hedged his response.
“There was such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from law. A man of honor could not have doubted the intention, but Mr. Darcy did.”