Chapter 11 #2
“I do, because until recently, he was a lieutenant in a militia regiment stationed in my home town of Meryton,” Elizabeth said, her spare hand tightening into an angry fist. “Oh, you are correct, Mr. Wickham is good looking and charming, with exquisite manners and gentle speech. I thought him one of the very best men in the world, and it seems he is, instead, the worst!”
“Do you really think so?” Georgiana asked shyly.
“I know so,” Elizabeth declared, her pace increasing slightly in her anger, both at Wickham for deceiving her, and herself for having listened so credulously to the man.
“He flattered and charmed me and I … oh, fool that I am … I was honored by his attentions and believed his slanderous words about your brother.”
“My brother? What did Mr. Wickham say about my brother?” Georgiana asked sharply.
Elizabeth looked at the girl, her expression contrite.
“Mr. Wickham said that he grew up at Pemberley as the son of your father’s steward, that your father was Mr. Wickham’s godfather, and that the elder Mr. Darcy set aside a valuable church living for Mr. Wickham, which your brother refused to give him.
Mr. Wickham ascribed your brother’s actions to pride and jealousy, and I, depending on his outward facade as a likable and attractive gentleman, believed his story. I am a fool.”
“My father did set aside a church living for his godson, Mr. Wickham,” Georgiana said, her gaze now fixed on the path in front of them.
“Fitzwilliam did not think he would be a good clergyman, so my brother was happy when Mr. Wickham suggested he give up all rights to the living in exchange for three thousand pounds.”
“Three thousand pounds!” Elizabeth repeated, and her pace increased still more in her agitation.
“You are walking too fast,” Georgiana protested, and her companion immediately stopped.
“I do apologize,” Elizabeth said, bestowing a rueful look on the younger woman. “When I am upset I often walk very quickly. I did not mean to drag you along.”
“I am sorry that I upset you,” Georgiana said meekly.
“No, I am so glad that you told me about Mr. Wickham’s disgusting behavior.
I have long prided myself in my ability to understand the characters of my fellow man, and I am humbled to discover how poorly I comprehended Mr. Wickham’s true character.
In any case, let me reassure you that the fault lies completely with Mr. Wickham.
He has a strange magnetism to him, and you, who knew and trusted him as a child, had no reason to doubt his good faith. ”
“I did not doubt him at all,” Georgiana agreed, a few more tears dripping down her cheeks.
“I have thought much of it, and part of the reason I was so eager to wed immediately was that Mr. Wickham spent hours telling me about London high society and all the people and noise and rigid etiquette. Do you think that he said those things because he knew that I would hate London society?”
“I am certain that is exactly what he did,” Elizabeth responded grimly. She shook her head and said, “I think he is something of a chameleon, Mr. Wickham, and easily adjusts his speech and topics based on what he wants from someone else. He is such a despicable man!”
“Why did you believe bad things about Fitzwilliam when you had never met him?” Georgiana asked.
Elizabeth swallowed hard and again pulled her companion into a walk, though a slow one.
“There was no good reason at all,” she confessed. “I trusted Mr. Wickham because he seemed affable and honorable. I also, well, I spent a number of weeks in Kent, as you know, and your aunt, Lady Catherine is...”
“Proud, arrogant, and rude,” Georgiana finished, and then added indignantly, “Fitzwilliam is nothing like Lady Catherine!”
“I know he is not,” Elizabeth said miserably. “I apologize profusely, Miss Darcy. I have no excuse for my assumptions about you or your brother which were based entirely on the lies of a winsome, vile man. Can you forgive me?”
“Of course I forgive you,” Georgiana said immediately. “We all sin and fall short of the glory of God. Besides, you know the truth now.”
“I do,” Elizabeth agreed, greatly relieved. Miss Darcy, while unusual, was a compassionate and generous girl. “I hope you do not mind me asking a further question. I am confident you were not at Ramsgate alone. Surely you had a companion?”
“Yes, Mrs. Younge,” the girl said softly. “She was an excellent performer on the pianoforte and the harp. My brother told me that she had a prior acquaintance with Mr. Wickham and invited him to come to Ramsgate to see me.”
“Oh, Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth exclaimed, shaking her head in distress. “So the woman who was looking after you was in league with Mr. Wickham!”
“Yes,” Georgiana agreed and pulled the watch on her neck away from her so that she could read the time. “It is getting late, Miss Bennet. We should return to the house.”
Elizabeth could only nod in agreement as Georgiana directed their steps towards another bridge, this one constructed of wood, and set a brisk pace toward the great mansion rising into the morning skies.
She felt faint, not with hunger, but with horror.
She, who had so long prided herself on her acuity, stood revealed as a featherhead who had accepted the slanderous accusations of an unrighteous man toward the honorable Mr. Darcy.
“Miss Darcy?” she asked.
“Yes?”
“It might be well to speak to your brother about our conversation this morning. As your guardian, he ought to know.”
Georgiana frowned and then said, “You are correct, Miss Bennet. I will tell him as soon as possible.”
“In a private setting, of course,” Elizabeth cautioned. “It would be dangerous if you were to speak openly in front of the servants or, far worse, Miss Bingley.”
“Yes, I ought to speak to him alone. Thank you.”