Chapter 10
Dining Room
Longbourn
Later that Day
It was well known throughout the neighborhood of Meryton that Mrs. Bennet habitually laid the finest table in the locale.
As Elizabeth surveyed the dinner spread across the table that evening, she thought that her mother had outdone herself.
Ragout and roast, hams and fowls and potatoes and carrots and asparagus, pats of butter in cut crystal bowls, pies and rolls and steaming golden bread, bowls of fruits and nuts, jams and a platter of tarts, and a baked fish resting on a bed of lettuce filled the table.
The heir of Longbourn was visiting, and Mrs. Bennet was showing off her abilities as mistress of the house.
Elizabeth wondered about the cost of such a spread, but there was little point in fretting herself over it.
She had been aware for many years that, though the estate was solvent and the entail well known, there had been no attempt made at saving up against the future.
Mrs. Bennet was of a spendthrift nature, with no prudent inclinations, and Mr. Bennet was too indolent to stir himself to restrain her lavish spending.
In other circumstances, it would not matter; had a son been born to inherit, he would have given a home to his mother and unwed sisters after Mr. Bennet’s death.
Early in the Bennet parents’ marriage, it had not been unreasonable to expect that they would indeed welcome a son.
Jane had not even been a disappointment, though Elizabeth's advent had begun to cause concern.
Mrs. Bennet loved all her girls, and pert, lively Lydia was undeniably her favorite, despite being the death knell of the Bennets' hopes for a son.
But there was no denying that at least one boy would have been preferable to five girls.
Five undowered daughters, no less. Mrs. Bennet wished very much for all her daughters to be married, but not enough to set aside money for their dowries instead of redecorating the sitting room yet again or purchasing out of season fruit from London for a family dinner.
Elizabeth had decided that she could not permit her mother’s extravagance to frustrate her.
Better to trust in the Providence of the Almighty and enjoy the fine food.
She glanced down the table at Jane, who was taking delicate little bites of chicken breast. Jane was looking far better and had not coughed for several hours. She looked up, as though feeling Elizabeth's gaze, and smiled. Elizabeth smiled back, and Jane returned to her chicken.
Elizabeth took a bite of ham. Though she disapproved of her mother’s methods in throwing Jane and Mr. Bingley together, she agreed that they would make a good match.
Bingley’s greatest recommendations to Mrs. Bennet were his handsome mien and considerable wealth, but Elizabeth was more pleased with his kindness and generosity and upright character.
His interest in Jane was obvious, and she, Elizabeth knew, decidedly reciprocated. He would make Jane a fine husband.
“I declare that he is quite the most handsome man in all the world,” Lydia squealed, breaking into her thoughts. “I am so looking forward to seeing him in his regimentals!”
Elizabeth was curious about this statement but did not wish to admit that she had not been paying attention to the conversation. Thus, she was pleased when Mary said, “Do you know where this Mr. Wickham hails from?”
“He has been living in London,” Lydia said, lavishly buttering a roll, “but I do not know where he comes from originally. We will see him tomorrow night, I hope, at Aunt Phillips’s dinner party.”
Mary looked over at Mr. Collins and explained, “Mrs. Phillips is my mother’s sister, and she is married to Mr. Phillips, who is a solicitor in Meryton.”
“Mr. Phillips served as an apprentice under my father and took over the business when my father retired,” Mrs. Bennet added.
“I hope I will have the privilege of meeting Mr. and Mrs. Phillips soon,” Mr. Collins said.
“Oh, I am confident my sister would be very pleased to have you come to the supper,” Mrs. Bennet declared.
“Thank you,” her guest replied.
***
The Pig in the Poke Pub
Meryton
The Pig in the Poke was like many a provincial inn, with smoke-stained whitewashed walls and brick and dark oak beams supporting the thatched roof.
Dozens of tables crammed together across an unpolished wooden floor, filled with yokels with their filthy smocks and unshaven faces eating and drinking.
Smoke and the fragrant aromas of roast ham and roast beef hung thick in the air.
George Wickham leaned back against his chair and lifted a hand to attract the attention of the servant girl who was bustling around the room.
She hurried over with a smile, and he said, “Might I have another glass of ale, fair maiden?”
She giggled at this and hurried off, while Wickham allowed his eyes to drop to her trim ankles beneath her long skirts.
“It seems you are happy enough to be here, Wickham,” Captain Denny said, and Wickham turned to grin at his friend.
“I am, and I must thank you for your advice. I believe Meryton will suit me very well. The air is certainly far cleaner than in London.”
“Indeed,” Denny said, “and while the local society is circumscribed, it is also far more welcoming than London. You will find yourself a great hit among the ladies, Wickham, with your good looks and elegant speech.”
Wickham lifted a protesting hand signaling his humility, but inwardly he was pleased to have the man echo his own thoughts.
He knew that he was blessed with handsome features and a figure which was set off well by fine clothes in general and military garments in particular.
He also was adept at delicately flattering ladies and making friends of most gentlemen.
That was all for the best, given that he had been denied the patronage he so richly deserved.
“Tell me about the local families,” Wickham requested, nodding at the servant as she deposited another glass of ale.
“There are four and twenty families who make up the local gentry,” Denny explained as he briskly cut up a slice of beef on his plate. “I would say only a dozen of those families entertain regularly.”
“And how many of those dozen families are wealthy and have eligible daughters?” Wickham inquired, splitting his roll in half, buttering it, and then taking a delectable bite.
Denny frowned, popped a bite of beef into his mouth, chewed, swallowed, and said, “As far as I know, there are no wealthy, single young ladies around Meryton.”
This was discouraging … very discouraging … but Wickham was not surprised either. Heiresses were hardly thick on the ground, after all.
He had been fortunate enough to have an heiress in hand a few months previously, only to have her flutter out of reach thanks to her arrogant brother.
Curse Fitzwilliam Darcy.
“In terms of beauty, however,” Denny continued, “the Bennet ladies are considered the belles of the neighborhood, especially the eldest.”
Wickham swallowed his last piece of beef and said, “Bennets? Did we not meet them on the street today?”
“We met the youngest two of five daughters, and while Miss Kitty and Miss Lydia are handsome creatures, the eldest Miss Bennet is absolutely divine, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and her dark-haired next sister, Miss Elizabeth, is also quite handsome. You will like them very much.”
“But no money?” Wickham said with a comical twist of the lips.
Denny grimaced. “No, because Longbourn, while a fine estate worth two thousand pounds per annum, is entailed away from the female line, so a distant cousin will inherit. It is a difficult position for the ladies, of course.”
Wickham absently produced a sympathetic look, though he did not truly care about a random family.
“Is Longbourn the largest estate in the area?” he asked idly, lifting his half-full glass of ale to his lips.
“No, Netherfield Park is, which marches along Longbourn’s eastern border.
It was apparently empty for many years, but it is now being leased by a man named Mr. Bingley, who is accompanied by his younger sister, Miss Bingley, and his older sister and her husband, Mr. and Mrs. Hurst. Actually, rumor has it that Miss Bingley has a substantial fortune of twenty thousand pounds, but she is reputed to be a social climber and has eyes for her brother’s closest friend, Mr. Darcy. ”
Wickham, who had been enjoying the taste of the home-brewed ale, choked at that last word and found himself coughing desperately into his handkerchief. When he had recovered enough to breathe normally, he turned streaming eyes towards Denny, who was regarding him with wide-eyed amazement.
“Are you all right?” the other man asked worriedly.
Wickham’s handkerchief was now soiled, so he wiped his face on his sleeve. When he could see clearly, he looked around the room and was pleased to observe that no one was displaying any interest in his coughing fit. It was very noisy in the pub.
“I am,” Wickham said and coughed again to clear his throat. He took a cautious sip of ale and continued, “I was startled by your mention of Mr. Darcy. I know a Mr. Darcy, but it is likely not the same man.”
He devoutly hoped that Darcy was not here.
“I can describe him to you,” Denny said with a frown. “He is a very rich man, with an estate in Derbyshire worth a full ten thousand a year, according to rumors. He is tall, and…”
Now Wickham could not suppress a moan of dismay, and Denny grimaced and said, “The same man, is it?”
“Yes.”
“And you are not on good terms?”
Denny’s tone was courteous, but Wickham could see curiosity in the captain’s eyes.
He drained his glass of ale and said, “We are not, though I … that is, I am a newcomer in the area and indeed, I would not wish to lambast the man…”
“You need not worry,” Denny said drily. “It is well known that he is a proud man, and he has annoyed some of the local families by his arrogant behavior.”
Wickham felt his chest ease at these words. It was no great surprise, certainly, as Darcy was notoriously conceited, but it would be a tremendous help to Wickham. The two men were, he flattered himself, similarly gifted in looks, but Wickham had a far more amiable disposition.
Darcy, of course, had the immense blessing of ten thousand pounds per annum, and Wickham would trade his own soft speeches for half of that any day of the year!
“I see,” he said aloud and took a bite of bread before continuing, “I do not wish to gossip, naturally, but the truth is that I know Darcy very well. Indeed, his father was my godfather.”
Denny’s eyebrows lifted. “Truly?”
“Yes,” Wickham said and released a dramatic sigh.
“Mr. George Darcy, after whom I was named, was one of the best men on earth, and he was always incredibly kind to me. Indeed, I have to wonder whether the current Mr. Darcy was quite unnecessarily jealous of his father’s affection for me.
Old Mr. Darcy wished for me to be awarded a valuable living in Derbyshire.
As you said, Pemberley brings in a full ten thousand per annum, so it seems as though Darcy could have spared one living for his father’s godson, but alas, he chose to disdain his own father’s wishes and deny me. ”
Captain Denny whistled softly and leaned back in his chair. “That is truly malicious on Darcy’s part. But surely, even Darcy could not set aside his father’s written wishes. Why did you not seek legal redress?”
“There was just 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 chose to doubt it—or to treat it as a merely conditional,” Wickham said in a mournful tone.
He shook his head and said, “But come, enough of that. Tell me more about the town and also about my upcoming duties. I hope that they will not be too onerous?”
Denny chuckled, caught the attention of the servant girl and lifted his empty glass, and then turned back to his friend.
“Not at all. We are required to attend the occasional parade and the like, but most of the time we can enjoy our time here, and I assure you that I have thus far found the populace, as I said, to be welcoming indeed.”
“That is excellent news.”