Chapter 11

Two days later, when Darcy’s business with his solicitors required a trip to town, he took Ben with him.

By now, Elizabeth spent most of her time at Longbourn, so she might help out with the care of her father.

There was always something or other that needed tending, and as Geoffrey Collins was not inclined to avail himself of all Darcy’s extensive resources, everyone took turns doing what they could.

Elizabeth mostly sat with her father, reading to him and talking to him about those remembrances of their past she knew would bring him pleasure.

When she was not thus occupied, she was spending time with her mother.

Mrs. Bennet had been eerily quiet of late.

One might even describe her as pensive. She was even content to allow her eldest daughter, Jane, to assume those duties inherent in being the mistress of Longbourn, despite Jane’s repeated assurance that soon her father would be up on his feet again and the Collinses would return to their own home in Lincolnshire.

Elizabeth thought if anything would lift her mama’s spirits, it would be Bingley’s return.

What did her mother live for but to make favourable matches for her single daughters?

Alas, the announcement of the gentleman’s return was met with little more than a vague, unreadable smile.

Elizabeth’s youngest sisters were not so apt to spend long hours by their ailing papa’s bedside.

Their youth, their energy, their poorly formed minds, as well as their heightened sense of their own significance made it impossible that the young girls would sit idly by in the manor house when there was the excitement of a walk to Meryton to entice them out of the house.

On one such occasion, the girls had the honour of making the acquaintance of Mr. George Wickham.

Indeed, they introduced him to their aunt, Mrs. Philips, who in turn invited the dashing lieutenant and some of the other officers to dinner.

So pleased were they over this triumph that Lydia and Kitty could hardly contain themselves when they pranced into the manor house and nearly collided with Elizabeth and Georgiana who were preparing to take their leave for Netherfield.

“Oh, Lizzy, Georgiana, you will never guess where we have been or with whom we were speaking.”

“Do calm yourself, Lydia. Who has got you in such a state?”

“We have just met one of the officers. Oh, I declare he is the handsomest man in the world.”

The girls joined hands and danced around. Kitty said, “Indeed. He is more handsome than Mr. Collins and Mr. Darcy!”

“Oh, Lizzy, you must come with us to dinner this evening and see for yourself, for Aunt Philips has invited all of us.”

Now settled in the carriage, Georgiana said, “What say you, Elizabeth? Shall we dine at Mrs. Philips’s this evening?”

“Georgiana, I do not know that it would be agreeable with your brother, given that you are not out in Society.”

“Elizabeth, you know perfectly well that my brother never objected to my attending small family parties.”

“Of course, those were parties at Matlock House. I suspect your brother would hardly equate dinner with my Meryton relatives to dinner with aristocracy. Then there is the fact that the officers from the militia will be there.”

“It is not as though I have never dined with an officer before.”

“Yes, but dining with your cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam does not count.”

“Oh, Lizzy, please,” Georgiana said in a voice meant to sound like Lydia’s.

Neither of them could help laughing. Once she resumed a more elegant air, Georgiana said, “Besides, my brother is in town with Ben. Is it not true that they will remain there until tomorrow? He need never know how we spent this evening.”

Georgiana was nearly nineteen. Elizabeth would be lying if she said she agreed with her husband’s rigid views of young ladies who were not officially out.

Besides, she had been attending such dinner parties since she was fourteen.

With all that in mind, Elizabeth was more than agreeable to the scheme. Dinner at Aunt Philips’s it shall be.

Hours later, Georgiana was delighted to be the woman upon whom the dashing Lt.

Wickham bestowed his smiles that evening.

If only she could boast of having his undivided attention.

Alas, she could not, for he seemed to take a very keen interest in Elizabeth as well.

Georgiana would not complain. Being in his company with Elizabeth by her side provided the concealment she needed to avoid giving rise to speculation of an attachment between Georgiana and the gentleman.

If such were to reach her brother Darcy’s hearing, it would mean the end of her prospects before they even saw the light of day.

A great part of Georgiana wished desperately for time with George Wickham that evening.

The many years since she had last seen him had been nothing but kind to him.

His appearance was greatly in his favour; he had all the best part of beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure, and his address was as pleasing as she remembered it to be. Oh, how handsome he is.

For so long, she had been dreaming of him, waiting for him, just as he had asked her to do; however, he gave no indication of even remembering having uttered those words.

In fact, in Elizabeth’s presence he is content to treat me as the same young girl that he used to spend hours entertaining so many years ago at Pemberley.

It would not do. She was a woman. Her body’s reaction to merely being in his company, even in a room full of people, was confirmation of that. I must find a way to see him alone, outside of my sister’s company, and then I will know how he feels about me and determine how I, in turn, feel about him.

Darcy was livid!

He and Ben had returned from town earlier than planned and, wanting to surprise his wife, Darcy decided he would join her at the Philipses’ dinner party.

What he had espied upon his arrival filled him with disgust. He was aware of the militia’s recent encampment just outside of Meryton, but he had no idea of its being George Wickham’s regiment.

The last time he had seen his former friend was at Pemberley.

Soon after his father passed, Darcy had given Wickham the value of the living that the elder Mr. Darcy had wished for his godson when Wickham made it clear he had no desire to take orders.

It was money well spent as far as Darcy was concerned, for Wickham was not a principled man.

His being granted the living would have been a travesty.

However, Wickham later returned when the living became available, insisting that it ought to be his.

Darcy would not hear of it. Wickham countered, demanding even more money.

Darcy refused. All subsequent discourse had been so tarnished with vitriol and vile accusations that Darcy exiled Wickham from Pemberley forever.

How dare that reprobate ingratiate himself with my wife and my sister?

It was all Darcy could do not to upbraid his former friend in view of everyone, but as it was a family dinner party and they were merely conversing, Darcy held his tongue.

Instead, he kept his distance. Better I observe Wickham in order to know what he is about.

Darcy suffered a restless night. Seeing Wickham with his family had bothered him more than he would have anticipated, especially seeing him with Georgiana.

What if she held Wickham in as high esteem as had their father?

She had no knowledge of Wickham’s vile propensities.

Perhaps she did not fully comprehend the depths of his distrust of George Wickham.

I have never told her what transpired between us. She only knows he is never to be received at Pemberley, for that is all I ever told her. Darcy intended to amend his lapse where his sister was concerned. The sooner I counsel her on how to regard that scoundrel, the better.

After breakfast the next morning, Darcy invited his sister to join him for a turn about the gardens.

His purpose was two-fold: one, to spend time with her, for there had been very little of that of late, and two, to counsel her on how she ought to comport herself during their Hertfordshire visit.

“I saw you talking with Mr. George Wickham at the Philipses’ home last evening. ”

“I am sure you did. I spoke with many people at the dinner party. George was but one of them.”

“George?”

“How might you expect me to address him? Did I not enjoy many pleasurable hours in his company when he resided with us at Pemberley?”

“That may be true, but referring to a gentleman by his given name implies a certain familiarity.”

“Indeed, it does. But then again, George is much like family, is he not?”

Darcy’s muscles tightened. Family was the last thing he considered that reprobate. If his sister only knew the scoundrel like he knew him, she too would be appalled. “Georgiana, I do not wish to have you spend time with George Wickham.”

“Why ever not?”

“He and I did not part on the happiest of terms.”

“What can that have to do with me?”

“I do not think I should have to explain myself, young lady. I would simply ask that you trust me.”

“Did you fail to notice that he and your own wife were also engaged in rather amiable intercourse during parts of the evening? Have you given her the same admonishment?”

Darcy’s face filled with astonishment. When had his young sister learned to speak to him in so unguarded a manner?

“As Elizabeth is my wife, I do not endeavour to tell her with whom she can and cannot associate. It is quite a different matter when it comes to you, young lady. As your guardian, it is well within my rights to tell you with whom you are to associate, and I do not intend to abdicate those rights anytime soon.”

Not wishing to do anything to perturb her beloved older brother, Georgiana thought it best to hold her tongue.

She fully expected that her brother in all likelihood had spoken to Elizabeth about George, especially if he felt so passionately about the subject as to attempt to admonish her.

She suspected Elizabeth had balked at his decree.

Georgiana dared not be as bold with her brother as Elizabeth likely had been, but that did not mean she would heed her brother’s edict as easily as he expected.

George means far too much to me. He asked me to wait for him, and that is exactly what I have done. Now, when I am finally of an age where he and I can be together, I intend to do everything in my power to see that we are—the wait is over.

As far as she was concerned, if an extended passage of time preceded her brother’s knowledge of that fact, it was so much the better.

Darcy and Elizabeth sat across from each other in the library, embroiled in heated debate. They may as well have been on opposite sides of the world. How stubborn she could be when she chose.

“Please trust me on this, Elizabeth.”

“Georgiana has known him all her life and she does not disdain him—quite the contrary.”

“That is because she does not know his character as I do. She does not understand what he is capable of.”

“But everyone whom he has met since being here has nothing but the highest regard for him.”

“Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as to make friends wherever he goes. It is no wonder everyone is falling all over themselves to make love to him. However, he is unable to retain his easily earned esteem, and that is why I have no wish to have him connected to my family.”

“I know that he has been so unlucky as to lose your good opinion, and I also know your good opinion once lost is lost forever, but is there no possibility in your mind to allow that he is not the same gentleman you once knew? People can change.”

“People might change if that is their fervent wish, and they make a good effort. Wickham, however, is not the sort of person who would even wish to change. His greatest faults are those very attributes he regards as virtues.”

“Please, sir, let us not discuss this matter of Mr. Wickham any longer. I shall keep an eye on Georgiana if that is what you wish, but I surely will not spy on her, and I will not violate her confidence either. I know you are Georgiana’s guardian and you liken her to a daughter, but I posit that she is of an age where you would appreciate her far better if you start to consider her as a sister—as an adult sister, for that is certainly the basis of my relationship to her, that of sisters. ”

“You being a wiser, far worldlier sister,” Darcy said.

“Is that your way of calling me old, Mr. Darcy?”

“Well, you are older than Georgiana, are you not?”

“By a few years—not decades, for heaven’s sake!”

“Yes—I know. You are closer in age to her than not, and it is natural that you and she share a sisterly bond, whereas the bond between Georgiana and me is rather blurred.” Darcy crossed the room, took Elizabeth in his arms, and rested his chin atop her head.

He ran his hands along the length of her arms. Capturing her hand in his, he drew back a little; he looked into his wife’s eyes.

“Do you suppose that my sister regards me as being too severe where she is concerned? The last thing I want is to alienate her.”

“On the contrary. She loves you very much, and it is evident that she thinks you are the best man in the world.”

“I must confess that she is very wise in that regard.”

“Of course,” said Elizabeth teasingly.

“I would never ask you to spy on her or share your confidences with me, for it means everything to me that the two of you are so close. It is what I always wanted for her—to have a sister.

“I would ask you to help her, as best you can, to make good decisions for herself, especially when it comes to discerning the motives of the many men whose acquaintances she will be making.”

Darcy wanted desperately to say that, just because certain behaviour was deemed acceptable for Elizabeth’s younger sisters, it did not follow that it would likewise be acceptable for his own sister.

He did not dare, at least not now. Still, he strongly suspected a conversation on the younger Bennet daughters’ behaviour was one he ought to have, only not with Elizabeth.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.