Chapter 15
A Deliberate Design
As they sat down again and Darcy took a biscuit onto a small plate, Jane turned slightly toward her sister.
“Lizzy,” she said softly, “did you tell Mr. Darcy about Mr. Wickham?”
Elizabeth looked at her quickly.
Jane made a slight, discreet motion toward the window.
Darcy’s attention sharpened immediately. He put down the plate.
Elizabeth hesitated. “I had not intended to trouble Mr. Darcy with the matter.”
Jane regarded her with mild surprise. “I thought perhaps he ought to know.”
“Yes,” Darcy said quietly. “I think I ought.”
Elizabeth sighed softly. “Very well.”
She turned toward him. “Yesterday, while we were in Meryton, we met Mr. Wickham with Mr. Denny and another officer. At first, nothing was remarkable. He addressed us with his usual ease, and Lydia, of course, was eager for the officers to walk with us.”
Darcy regarded her without answering.
But Elizabeth could see that all his attention was fixed upon her now.
“I had already made it plain to Mr. Wickham,” she continued, “that I did not wish for any further intimacy between us, nor for any renewal of the confidence I had once placed in him. He seemed disposed to treat the whole matter lightly. He actually thought we could still be friends.”
Jane added gently, “Until Lydia wished them to escort us.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I refused it. Lydia did not immediately understand why, so I took her a little aside and reminded her that Papa had already thought Mr. Wickham’s attentions improper.”
Darcy’s expression did not alter, though something in it grew harder.
“When we returned to the others,” Elizabeth went on, “Lydia persisted once more. I answered for her. Mr. Wickham looked at me then in a manner I had not seen before.”
Mrs. Bennet, who had been listening with some curiosity, frowned.
“A manner? What manner?”
Elizabeth kept her eyes on Darcy. “Not a pleasant one.”
She paused a moment.
“He said I was very careful of my sister’s conduct.”
“And I replied,” she added, “that I was careful of my family.”
Darcy did not move.
“Then,” Elizabeth said, more quietly, “he lost command of himself for a moment. Not entirely – not enough that anyone in the street would have called it a scene – but enough.”
Jane folded her hands in her lap.
“He spoke in a lower voice,” she said. “Quite differently.”
Elizabeth nodded. “He told me to take care. He said I would do well not to involve myself further.”
There was a brief silence.
Mrs. Bennet gave a little start. “Well! That was an odd thing to say.”
“It was more than odd,” Jane said softly.
Elizabeth’s voice was steady, but quieter now.
“It was not merely displeasure. I had thought him vain, perhaps false, certainly resentful – but for the first time I thought him… dangerous.”
Darcy’s hand tightened slightly upon the edge of the table.
“Mr. Denny saw it too,” Elizabeth continued. “He stepped in at once and broke off the moment before it could go further.”
Jane looked at Darcy with calm seriousness.
“That is why I thought you ought to know,” Jane said.
For a moment, Darcy did not answer.
When he did, his voice was perfectly controlled – which, in him, was often the clearest sign of anger.
“You were right to tell me.”
“Mr. Darcy. Is this man dangerous? I do not know why Mr. Bennet thought it best not to let Lydia dance with him. Good gracious! I let him eat at my table. What is to be done?” Mrs. Bennet asked anxiously.
“Miss Bennet…” Darcy began.
“Mrs. Bennet,” Elizabeth corrected gently.
Darcy inclined his head. “Mrs. Bennet,” he said with composure, “I would not wish to alarm you unnecessarily.”
“Well, I am alarmed already!” she declared. “An officer speaking in that manner to my daughter in the street! I cannot imagine what possessed Mr. Bennet to tolerate him in the first place.”
Jane spoke softly. “Perhaps Mr. Wickham was merely offended, Mama.”
Darcy’s expression remained calm, though there was a gravity in it now that had not been there before. “Mr. Wickham is a man whose character has, on occasion, given rise to… very serious concerns.”
Mrs. Bennet stared at him. “Difficulty! Well, that sounds very alarming indeed.”
Elizabeth watched him closely. “You think we should be cautious.”
“I think,” Darcy replied carefully, “that it would be prudent not to encourage his attentions.”
Jane nodded at once. “That seems very sensible.”
Mrs. Bennet, however, looked increasingly agitated. “Well! I shall certainly speak to Mr. Bennet about it the moment he returns. I declare I shall not have strange men threatening my daughters in the street.”
Darcy rose slowly from his chair. “If you permit me, madam,” he said, “I would be glad to speak with Mr. Bennet myself.”
Elizabeth looked up quickly.
Darcy met her gaze with quiet seriousness. “There are some matters which it may be better that he hears directly.”
Mrs. Bennet blinked at him. “Oh! Mr. Darcy…”
For a moment, she appeared quite at a loss.
“Well! I am sure that would be… very proper indeed.” She pressed her hands together nervously. “I declare I never imagined such a thing when Mr. Wickham first came to Meryton. A most agreeable gentleman, and so attentive! One never knows whom to trust nowadays.”
Jane said gently, “Mama, Mr. Darcy did not say we had reason to fear anything immediately.”
“No, no, of course not,” Mrs. Bennet said quickly, though she looked anything but reassured. “Still, it is vastly fortunate that you are here to advise us, Mr. Darcy. I shall certainly tell Mr. Bennet that you wish to speak with him.”
Elizabeth had said nothing, but her eyes had remained fixed on Mr. Darcy. There was something in his manner now – a firmness, almost a protectiveness – which she had not observed before.
Darcy, meanwhile, had resumed his composure, though his thoughts were far from calm.
George Wickham’s presence in Meryton could no longer be treated as a mere inconvenience. What Miss Elizabeth had described confirmed his worst suspicions. Wickham had already begun to test his influence – and with Elizabeth herself.
That could not be permitted to continue. He would speak with Mr. Bennet before the day was over.
But as this resolution formed in his mind, another thought – considerably more welcome – presented itself.
Elizabeth Bennet was not engaged.
And, as her own words had made very clear, she valued something more than convenience in marriage. Darcy allowed himself the smallest inward smile.
There were matters which demanded his immediate attention –
and another, far more agreeable, which he did not intend to neglect.”
Elizabeth Bennet.
Darcy rose, intending to take his leave.
“If you will excuse me, Mrs. Bennet, I should not wish to intrude longer upon your morning. I shall return tomorrow to speak with Mr. Bennet.”
Mrs. Bennet started. “Return tomorrow! Good Heavens, Mr. Darcy, you cannot mean to leave already.”
Darcy paused. “I would not wish to inconvenience you.”
“Inconvenience us?” she repeated. “My dear sir, it would be vastly inconvenient if you did leave so soon. Mr. Bennet will be home directly. I cannot imagine why you should not wait.”
Darcy hesitated. “I would not wish to impose.”
“Not at all, not at all,” Mrs. Bennet said quickly. “You must remain. Indeed, you shall remain. It would be the strangest thing in the world if you came all the way from Netherfield only to ride away again before luncheon.”
Jane smiled gently. “I believe Papa will not be long.”
Elizabeth said nothing.
Mrs. Bennet, however, was already arranging matters with great determination. “Well then! Since Mr. Darcy must wait a little while, we must provide him with some entertainment. Lizzy, my dear, take Mr. Darcy into the other room. I am sure he would enjoy a little music.”
Elizabeth looked up with mild astonishment.
“Mama…”
“My dear child, you know Mr. Darcy admires music.”
Darcy, who had not said any such thing, inclined his head politely.
Elizabeth rose, though not without a faint look of amusement. “Very well. Follow me, sir.”
Mrs. Bennet settled herself with evident satisfaction. “There. Music is the very thing to enliven the day – one scarcely feels the time pass at all. Jane, dear, take some tea and biscuits for Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth opened the music and sat down. For a moment, she did not begin to play. Instead, she glanced briefly toward Darcy. “You must forgive me, Mr. Darcy,” she said lightly. “I have not practised… well, I shall do my best to entertain you.”
Darcy allowed himself the smallest smile. “In that case, Miss Elizabeth, I feel myself greatly honoured.”
Elizabeth began to play.
The piece was lively and confident, though not performed with the studied perfection which some ladies affected. Elizabeth seemed less concerned with displaying her skill than with enjoying the music itself.
Darcy seated himself a little to the side of the instrument.
Jane placed a small tray before him. He accepted the tea with a quiet word of thanks.
At first, he listened with proper attention. Yet his thoughts soon wandered.
If he truly intended to pursue Miss Elizabeth, he could not rely upon chance meetings and accidental conversations. A man who wished to win a lady’s regard must proceed with more design.
He frowned slightly at this reflection.
How, precisely, was a man to court a woman?
He had often witnessed such things in society, yet the methods he had observed had rarely impressed him. Many gentlemen seemed content with empty compliments, excessive attentions, and a great deal of vanity. None of it recommended itself to his judgement.
Miss Elizabeth, he was quite certain, would value none of it. But then he hesitated.
His eyes returned to her.
She was leaning slightly forward as she played, her attention entirely fixed upon the music.
A small curl had escaped the arrangement of her hair and rested against her cheek.
From time to time, she brushed it away with an impatient movement of her hand, only for it to fall back again a moment later.