Chapter 12 #2
A few nights later, at a card party at Purvis Lodge, Elizabeth was sitting on the sidelines, resting from the hectic game of lottery tickets she had just finished. As she did, she felt a rather odd sensation.
She missed Mr. Darcy.
Though the officers were at this party, it was not the kind of thing Mr. Darcy would be invited to. It was too informal for anyone to believe he would wish to attend.
Elizabeth had become so used to his presence as he visited her at home every day, that she wished he were here as well.
The feeling nearly shocked her. It wasn’t so long ago that she disliked the man intensely. In fact, even after she thought he was gone for good, her dislike for him kept him in her mind, making her grateful for his absence.
As she thought about it, she realized that her feelings had not altered all that much after all.
Mr. Darcy had always drawn her attention.
From the moment she first laid eyes on him, she thought him one of the handsomest men she had ever seen.
His strong, upright bearing was just as appealing as his trim figure and his handsome face.
It was only after his insult and his subsequent critical staring at her that she came to dislike him so. His upright bearing became proud in her mind. His handsome features were labeled as stony.
Even so, she was never able to put him from her mind completely. Whenever he was nearby, he drew her attention, though she was not so gauche as he was, since she refused to stare at him.
Now, since she had been convinced that his staring was out of admiration for her, her opinion had gradually begun to shift back to its original form. He was fascinating.
It was even more than that, however. She now knew that he was intelligent and wise.
He was capable of admitting an error of judgment and attempting to make up for his mistake.
He was easy to talk with on serious topics as well as those not so serious.
In short, he was simply pleasant to be around.
Elizabeth suspected that if she could manage to forget his protestations of affection and intentions of marrying her, she would be very comfortable in his company.
She paused at this thought. Perhaps comfortable was not quite the best word. Even when she was not feeling pressure from him, the admiration she felt for him was never entirely comfortable.
Elizabeth’s pondering was interrupted by the approach of Mr. Wickham. She smiled, and he sat down next to her. One of the few things she had not been able to erase when it came to Mr. Darcy was her opinion of his treatment of Mr. Wickham.
“It seems as though you were having quite an entertaining time playing lottery tickets,” said Mr. Wickham.
“It was a most excellent game,” replied Elizabeth. “Truth be told, it is one of my favorites even when I do not win.”
“I am glad to see Mr. Darcy and his cousin are not here tonight,” said Mr. Wickham.
Elizabeth couldn’t entirely agree that she was glad of Mr. Darcy’s absence, so she said. “At least their absence has made it so that you can enjoy the evening.”
“Yes. It has been quite the trial attempting to avoid them simply to keep the peace. Nevertheless, I have made the effort, because I respect our neighbors far too much to wish to start an argument in the middle of a party.”
After a moment of silence, Mr. Wickham looked at Elizabeth meaningfully. “I have noticed that you don’t seem to be as opposed to Darcy’s company as you once were.”
“I suppose not,” she replied. “I have learned that he improves on further acquaintance.”
“Well, if you recall, I did mention that when he feels himself among equals, he can be much better company. Still, I dare not think he is improved in essentials. A man with the lack of honor he has shown me should not be trusted.”
Elizabeth thought back to her recent interactions with Mr. Darcy.
They had conversed for at least half an hour almost every day for the last week or more.
In that time, she had detected no hint of dishonor or untrustworthiness.
Everything he said he would do, he did. Even as he spoke of what he did at home in Derbyshire, he seemed completely honest.
In fact, honesty seemed to be his defining characteristic. He wasn’t particularly good at bending the truth or hiding it. If there was something he didn’t want to say, he simply remained silent.
She glanced toward Mr. Wickham again. This man, on the other hand, was quite good at always saying the right thing at the right time. Did that mean he was untrustworthy?
She decided to think about it later. “I appreciate the reminder,” said Elizabeth. “I promise I will keep it in mind. In the meantime, shall we not talk of something happier? How was your game of whist?”
Mr. Wickham gave a comically wry smile. “You wound me, Miss Elizabeth, pretending to be sympathetic then throwing my loss in my face in such a way. You must have seen in my expression that I lost the game quite badly.”
“I am afraid I saw no such thing. I was far too absorbed in winning lottery tickets,” she said with a cheeky grin.
They talked for another few minutes. Then they both joined a card table to continue the evening’s entertainment.