Chapter VII
Wickham was nothing if not a resourceful man. He had to be. Men like Fitzwilliam Darcy could depend on all the advantages life afforded, but Wickham had always known he would only obtain what he seized for himself.
Being resourceful was all well and good, but in the current situation, Wickham was not certain how he could make something of Georgiana’s presence in Meryton.
The uncomfortable thought that Darcy would just call in his Lambton and Cambridge debts should he say anything about Ramsgate would not leave him.
Thus, anything he attempted, he must undertake with the utmost subtlety.
What Wickham thought he could do with impunity was to further diminish Darcy’s standing in the eyes of the neighborhood—a side benefit of that would be to bring a young woman who intrigued him under his influence. The question was how to go about doing it.
Not having known that Darcy would quit the neighborhood after the ball, Wickham had made no plans other than the vague notion that he could spread his tale of woe at Darcy’s hands through whispers and innuendo.
When Darcy departed, Wickham thought he could do so at his leisure.
Now that the man was back, those plans would need to be abandoned for the moment.
But there was one to whom he had related the affair, and the more he considered it, Miss Elizabeth Bennet would be the perfect vessel for his vengeance on Darcy.
That she had said nothing even to her sisters was unfortunate.
Yet Wickham thought he could rile her up sufficiently to share what she knew with the neighborhood.
If that did not work, a careless comment to Mrs. Bennet or Miss Lydia would yield the fruit he wished.
Darcy would not care, Wickham believed—the man was dismissive of anyone beneath him and would view the tittering townsfolk with contempt—but it would satisfy Wickham to know that his reputation was ruined in another town.
He would then take his time deciding if he could benefit from the situation.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” said Wickham warmly, flashing her that smile he knew pleased the ladies. “How wonderful it is to be in your company again.”
The other officers—Denny and Sanderson—were greeting the youngest Bennets and enduring the mother’s officious attentions, but for the moment, Wickham had no interest at all in them.
Miss Elizabeth was the key. She had accepted Wickham’s tale of his dealings with Darcy and was a much more interesting conquest than heedless Lydia.
“Mr. Wickham,” said she, apparently pleased to see him. “Welcome to Longbourn.”
Wickham smiled, with the ease he so often used to captivate those of the fairer sex. Miss Elizabeth was the hinge upon which it all turned. If he played his cards right, he might even manage to benefit from the acquaintance.
WHEN MR. WICKHAM ENTERED the room and turned his attention on Elizabeth, she was pleased to see him, but not for the reason Wickham supposed.
Since meeting Miss Darcy and her epiphany about the girl’s character, she had wanted to learn why Mr. Wickham had branded her as proud and above her company.
This was the perfect opportunity to provoke him to speak and hopefully learn the piece of the puzzle she was missing.
“It pleases me to visit you, Miss Elizabeth. I hope you have been well.”
“Very well, sir,” replied Elizabeth.
She considered what she might say to turn Mr. Wickham’s attention to Miss Darcy, then decided against leading him. Given Mr. Wickham’s eagerness to speak of Mr. Darcy, she thought he would raise the subject himself.
“We were most distressed to learn of your absence from the ball at Netherfield.”
“And I was sorry to have missed it,” replied Wickham. “It was the cruelest chance that drew me to London when I would rather have danced with you.”
“That is unfortunate,” murmured Elizabeth, not certain what to make of his response. “If you will excuse me, Mr. Denny said something that suggested it was not pure chance that prevented your attendance.”
Mr. Wickham paused for a moment as if considering, then gave her a smile that appeared a little shamefaced.
“I apologize, Miss Elizabeth, for I should not have attempted to mislead. You are correct—I did not miss the ball by chance. As you understand something of the situation between Darcy and me, you must also apprehend that we should keep a careful distance between us.”
“Then you did not attend because you wished to stay away from Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, trying to understand.
A flash crossed his face, a measure of displeasure or anger she was not certain she even saw, given how quickly it disappeared.
“No, Miss Elizabeth, I have no reason to fear Darcy—my behavior has been above reproach. If Darcy wishes to avoid me, then he can go. I mentioned this at your aunt’s party, if you recall. ”
“Yet you did not attend the ball.”
It was a perfectly reasonable assertion, though it appeared to perturb Mr. Wickham.
“The reason I did not attend was that I thought it better to refrain, not from any fear of Darcy. Relations are so poor between us that unpleasant scenes might arise if we were in the same room.”
The assertion was plausible, but the image of Mr. Darcy riding away when confronted with the sight of Mr. Wickham on Meryton’s streets flashed through Elizabeth’s mind.
If Mr. Wickham was so concerned about clashing with Mr. Darcy, why did Mr. Darcy choose avoidance over confrontation?
For that matter, Mr. Darcy had not taken the opportunity to speak of Mr. Wickham even when Elizabeth had given it to him.
Instead, he had delivered that cryptic comment about Mr. Wickham’s inability to keep his friends, refusing to say anything further.
They continued to speak for several moments thereafter about unrelated subjects, but Elizabeth’s attention was divided.
Mr. Wickham did not seem to notice, for he was as engaging as ever, making jests several times, speaking with his usual verve.
In time, however, Elizabeth began to see a pattern.
Many of Mr. Wickham’s stories included Mr. Darcy in some way, or he referenced the man in passing.
According to Mr. Wickham, he was the controlled, careful man, while he often portrayed Mr. Darcy as hapless or completely senseless.
Finally, when Mr. Wickham made some slight remark about Mr. Darcy’s family, Elizabeth seized on the chance to bring up what she wished to discuss.
“Oh yes, of course,” said Elizabeth as if she had just remembered something. “Since you are acquainted with Mr. Darcy, you must also be acquainted with all his family.”
“Yes, if you recall, I have spoken something of them,” was Mr. Wickham’s smooth reply. “I never had much contact with Lady Anne Darcy, for she did not approve of her husband sponsoring me—Lady Anne was the daughter of an earl, after all.”
“That is what I understand,” said Elizabeth.
Mr. Wickham nodded, as if pleased she remembered. “Mr. Darcy the elder was an excellent man and more particularly fond of me. Of the current Darcy family, the only other member is Miss Georgiana Darcy, the current master’s younger sister.”
“Then you do not know that Miss Darcy is currently in residence at Netherfield Park.”
“Yes, I have heard that,” agreed the officer.
Elizabeth waited for a moment, and when he did not speak, she filled the silence. “I have only met her once, but she seemed a sweet girl.”
Mr. Wickham fell silent, as if pensive. “Miss Darcy was pleasing as a child and quite shy, but she gained confidence when she became a young lady. She is nothing like that now, for she has developed a measure of haughtiness that is not exactly pleasing.”
Now Elizabeth looked on the man with asperity. “You have my apologies, Mr. Wickham, but I can see nothing of such tendencies in Miss Darcy. In fact, her shyness persists to this day.”
Face falling, Mr. Wickham appeared morose. Then he sighed and attempted a smile.
“That is unfortunate, Miss Elizabeth. I apologize, but I had no intention to mislead. If Georgiana is not haughty, then the other explanation is likely.”
Confused, Elizabeth exclaimed: “Whatever do you mean?”
Though silent for several moments, Mr. Wickham appeared to make a decision. “I apologize, Miss Elizabeth, but I would not speak without due consideration.”
“You may be assured of my silence on the subject,” said Elizabeth, quite forgetting that she should not ask.
Mr. Wickham was caught in indecision briefly, but soon he leaned closer. “It is a sad story. For you see, Miss Darcy is in love with me and I with her. But Darcy will hear nothing of our marrying.”
Quite taken aback, Elizabeth could only gape at the officer for several moments.
Then, before she could answer, the Netherfield party entered the room on Mrs. Hill’s heels, and Elizabeth saw the exact moment when Mr. Wickham and Mr. and Miss Darcy became aware of each other.
Mr. Wickham turned even more morose, but the Darcy siblings’ reactions were striking in their contrast. Mr. Darcy appeared furious, but his sister turned a little white with apprehension.
Then her brother spoke softly to her, and her cheeks regained the color of resolve.
“You see?” Mr. Wickham’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “She pines after me but puts on a brave face to please her brother. We are both suffering, but until she is eighteen and can choose her own destiny, there is no hope.”
Elizabeth was shocked. “You suppose that Miss Darcy will agree to marry you when she comes of age?”
The shrug spoke of quiet hope but seemed calculated. “I cannot say, though I cannot relinquish the dream.”