Vol 1, Chapter 6 #2
“Now, if you had given me leave to finish what I was about to say, then you would have heard that Miss Elizabeth was not unaccompanied. There is a groom with her. As she is not here for a visit, but to assist her sister, she has not broken any rules of propriety. As to her eyes, they shined particularly prettily after her exercise. Excuse me, Bingley. I have business to attend.”
Darcy stood and bowed to the room and left Miss Bingley still frozen in place after his set down. ‘Damn that harridan for making me defend Miss Elizabeth in front of all of them, and myself for my unguarded words at Lucas Lodge!’
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Mr. William Collins was determined to fulfil his all-knowing, wise patroness’ charge. He could still hear her wise words as he packed for his trip to Longbourn, which would commence on the morrow.
“Go forth to Hertfordshire, Mr. Collins; marry one of your unfortunate cousins, bring her back to Hunsford, and I will wait on her.
Make sure she is modest and demure for I will not countenance impertinence.
You need to set the example of matrimony to my, I mean, your parishioners.
Do not return in the single state. If not married, you must at least return betrothed.
“Once you are married, I will advise your bride and make sure she knows how to fulfil her duties.”
Collins could not believe that all-mighty Lady Catherine de Bourg would condescend to teach his wife how to run her house.
Per her Ladyship’s suggestion, he had already placed shelves into the closets.
While he was praising her brilliance, Collins entirely forgot that he then had nowhere to hang his clothing, which explained why his patroness had complained his clothing was always creased.
A hired gig would collect him at sunup, and he would make sure to arrive at the time he had said he would, even if it meant waiting out of sight of the house until he was sure he would attend his cousins at the stated time, for his patroness did not like it when one was not punctual.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
George Wickham had had enough of Mrs. Younge and of not being able to enjoy his preferred pastimes, so he took the post coach one day early. It was just before midday when he arrived in the little market town of Meryton. Seeing a myriad of scarlet coats, he knew he was in the correct place.
“Wickham!” Denny called as he saw his acquaintance step off the post coach, “You are a day early. Well, never mind. Come on old chap, let us make for the camp and get you in uniform.” Denny clapped his friend on the back.
As they walked, Wickham noted that the town was like many others where he had been able to attain credit easily and to leave those debts behind him.
He also saw a fair number of young girls walking around.
He preferred younger girls as they were far easier to manipulate and would fall for his charms almost before they even realised he was using them.
His anger at Darcy grew when he saw the girls’ looks when they noticed his nose and missing tooth.
He would have to come up with a good story to explain his injuries, one that would paint him as the hero, of course.
Denny led Wickham to the Colonel’s hut. “One of our new recruits arrived a day early, sir,” Denny saluted smartly. “Wickham, this is our commander, Colonel Forster. Colonel, Mr. George Wickham of Derbyshire.”
“What makes you want to join the militia, Mr. Wickham?” the Colonel perfunctorily asked as he glanced up at the man.
“It is a good and honest profession and allows me to serve this great country that we live in,” Wickham lied.
“How did you come by your injuries?” the Colonel wanted to know.
“I came upon a young maiden beset by two brigands. I fought them off her; my injuries are insignificant to theirs, Colonel. It was worth it to preserve the virtue of a young girl.” Wickham was impressed that he had come up with such a story on the spur of the moment.
It was far better than the truth, which was the opposite.
“What rank are you purchasing, Mr. Wickham?” the Colonel got down to business.
His gut was telling him something about the man did not ring true; he would bear watching.
No man who would help another in that manner would be wanting only now to join a militia, if he truly had wanted to serve.
Many a young man had run away from problems by joining the militia, and they, all of them, were watched until he was certain they had good intentions.
“I owe Wickham some money from a debt of honour, Sir, so I am funding his purchase of an ensign’s rank as repayment,” Denny said.
It did not sit well with the Colonel that the man could not afford his own commission, and even though he doubted Denny’s version of why he was paying, he was not going to call the Lieutenant a liar without being sure.
He had been sorely tempted to tell his tale of how Darcy had cheated him out of the living at Kympton.
Before he did, however, Wickham heard the threats echoing in his head and regulated himself.
He was well pleased with the story Denny had just told the Colonel.
He could use that it was a lie as it gave him some leverage if he needed the odd loan here and there from the man.
As he did with all of his ‘friends,’ Wickham was already thinking about how best to use Denny for his advantage.
In the end, Denny would be just another burned bridge.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Jane and Elizabeth first changed before joining the family in the drawing room. “I have never been so happy to be home,” Jane exclaimed as she gave her mother a hug.
“How bad was it, Jane?” Mrs Bennet asked.
“Mama, those two ladies are far worse than even Papa’s report said,” Jane reported. “You know I do not like to cast such aspersions, but they are horrible! Let me tell you…” Jane reported all from the time that she arrived until the men returned home dripping wet.
“I am so sorry you had to endure their presence; we will certainly not be issuing any invitations to the Netherfield party,” Mrs. Bennet said as she hugged her daughter.
“Bingley insisted on returning last night even though I told him they would not be able to get past the bridge with the carriage. I suggested the Red Lion, but the puppy would hear none of it. Why do you suppose he was so keen to return to Netherfield, Jane?” Bennet asked sardonically.
“Do not tease me, Papa; that man did not get the message! I thank my lucky stars I will be with Aunt Maddie and Uncle Edward in a fortnight. Do you know he is throwing a ball next week, believing that will somehow flatter me? Why could he not be like the man that I met at the Gardiners’ a few times?
” Jane asked wistfully. In the silence that followed her statement, Jane realised that she had just shared information that she had held close to her chest, for she was not sure when, or even if, she would see Lord Andrew Fitzwilliam again.
Also, she was not sure he would attach himself to one as low as people believed the Bennets to be.
“Jane, do you have something else to share?” Elizabeth asked with arched eyebrow.
“No, Lizzy, I do not!” Jane gave her sister the look, the very one all who knew her understood—she would not say more on the subject.
“What will I do if he asks me for one of the important sets?” Jane frowned.
“I do not want him to think that I have any interest in him. From what I have seen and heard, he is enamoured with my looks and knows nothing of who I truly am.”
“We will go see Charlotte this afternoon, and then we can visit the Gouldings,” Elizabeth suggested. “Frederick and John will help with two of the three sets, and Julian the other. That way when he asks, you will not have to refuse him, but he will have to be satisfied with one of the other sets.”
“That is a good solution, Lizzy. You three will join me, and Mark may too if he has completed his lessons. I owe Lady Lucas and Mrs. Goulding a visit each,” Mrs. Bennet winked at her daughters.
All three girls smiled back at their mother.
Jane relaxed now that she had a solution to the Bingley problem.
Her mother and sisters wondered who it was Jane had almost mentioned.
Later that afternoon, Mrs. Bennet, her three daughters, and her youngest son made the two calls. By the time they left the Gouldings, all three Bennet daughters had the three important sets covered.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
“Charles! Are you bound and determined to hold a ball for a bunch of country mushrooms?” Miss Bingley whined.