Chapter 13 #2
The man frowned hideously at these words, “I do not need for you to come, Miss Elizabeth. I will go with Mr. Gregory, who must know far more about Longbourn than a mere female.”
Elizabeth suppressed a roll of her eyes, inhaled and then slowly let out a long breath, “As you wish, Mr. Collins.”
/
Mr. Wickham was even more handsome and charming than reported.
He was tall but not excessively so, dark blond with sky blue eyes, graced with a charming figure which set off his military coat to admiration, and was light on his feet.
To her surprise, Elizabeth was the focus of his attention within five minutes of his arrival at her Aunt Philips’ house, and ten minutes later they were conversing pleasantly about the society of Meryton and its environs.
“I am indeed very happy in Meryton, Miss Elizabeth,” the man declared in answer to her query.
“I have known many people to crow about the pleasures and glories of London, but here we have been welcomed in a most generous way, far more warmly than anything I ever experienced in the Metropolis. I foretell a most delightful sojourn here for the entire regiment.”
“I hope so, Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth replied. “We always enjoy new acquaintances in our somewhat circumscribed society.”
“I have no doubt we will have a marvelous experience,” the gentleman returned warmly. “I grew up far north of here in Derbyshire and while I will always miss it, I must not repine when I have the pleasure of meeting charming ladies like you.”
“Derbyshire, Mr. Wickham? I recently met a man who also hails from Derbyshire. Have you ever visited an estate called Pemberley?”
There was a flash of some strong emotion which crossed Mr. Wickham’s face, to be replaced by resolute calm. What had she seen in his expression? Wariness? Surprise?
“Yes,” the man responded after a long moment. “I actually grew up on the Pemberley estate.”
Elizabeth sat up straighter in amazement, “Did you indeed? Then you must know Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy?”
She tilted her head thoughtfully now, her curiosity excited. Mr. Wickham’s face, formerly so gentle and welcoming, was now blank and his eyes were watchful.
“I knew of him, of course,” the man replied carefully. “He was the son of the owner of the estate, Mr. George Darcy, while I was but the son of Mr. Darcy’s steward.”
“Oh, I see,” Elizabeth said with some disappointment. Mr. Wickham seemed a charming young man, but she supposed that the Darcys were too proud to permit their son to spend much time with a servant’s progeny.
“So you say that Mr. Darcy is living nearby?” asked her companion.
“Yes,” Elizabeth declared, glancing absently towards Jane, who was seated next to Lydia talking with Mr. Denny. “He is staying with a friend of his named Mr. Bingley, who is leasing Netherfield Estate not far from here.”
“And what do you think of Mr. Darcy?” Wickham inquired intently.
“Well, initially I confess that my opinion was not favorable as he seemed arrogant, but of late I have found him far more agreeable.”
“He does have a reputation for being very proud,” the man concurred. “The very rich often are, especially when they are connected to the nobility as Darcy is.”
Elizabeth considered her companion thoughtfully, “Yes, I suppose perhaps he can be accused of pride; nonetheless, I find him an admirable person in many ways. I gather he is a good master of Pemberley.”
“Oh yes, he is,” the man responded warmly. “He greatly esteems the Darcy name and Pemberley is a fine estate, with 10,000 pounds per annum in income. He would not neglect his duties for fear of what people might say if he were careless of his responsibilities.”
Elizabeth hesitated briefly, uneasy at the man’s words. It seemed clear that the handsome military man did not like Mr. Darcy in the least, which seemed a pity. She was tempted to ask a direct question, but she hardly knew this man; it would be indelicate.
“I daresay,” she said playfully, “that many a rich man has put on haughty airs to fend off young ladies in search of a fortune. But come, Mr. Wickham, please do tell me of Pemberley. I have rarely left home, but my father has a number of books about travel. Is Derbyshire similar to Hertfordshire in its landscapes?”
/
“It seems you enjoyed Mr. Wickham’s conversation very much,” Jane commented as the Bennet daughters gathered in Lydia’s room before retiring to their beds. “You spent much of the evening talking together.”
Elizabeth wrinkled her brow doubtfully, “In some ways, yes, it was very pleasant.”
“Only some ways?” Mary asked.
“Mr. Wickham is obviously very handsome,” Elizabeth mused, “along with being exceptionally charming. However, he clearly dislikes Mr. Darcy and kept making subtly negative remarks about the master of Pemberley.”
“Perhaps at one point Mr. Darcy said that Mr. Wickham was not handsome enough to talk to,” Kitty interjected, provoking a communal laugh from the Bennet sisters. Elizabeth was glad that Kitty had forgiven Mr. Darcy sufficiently that she could laugh about his insult now.
“Perhaps it was something like that,” she agreed. “Mr. Wickham was the son of Pemberley’s steward when he was a boy, and he and Mr. Darcy must be roughly the same age. Based on Mr. Wickham’s comments, it seems that as boys, they spent little time together.”
“It is not common for a gentleman’s son to spend much time with the children of servants,” Lydia remarked.
“True enough,” Elizabeth concurred. “Indeed, if that is what angers Mr. Wickham, he should not resent Mr. Darcy; it would have been his father’s decision, and no doubt Mr. Darcy spent many hours at his studies.
He is a great reader and obviously well versed in administering a vast estate, both of which take time and effort. ”