Chapter 11
SOLDIERS we must hope that is enough to persuade him to proper behaviour.”
If she were mistress of a home, Elizabeth felt she would be equal to barring an unwelcome guest, general invitation or not, but her aunt was a less resolute creature.
“I understand, Aunt. Please, will you assist us in watching Lydia as much as your duties allow? She has stated a belief that such a handsome man could not be really bad, and though our father has forbidden us from speaking with him, I fear she may prove headstrong.”
“Oh dear, oh dear,” fretted Mrs Philips. “Certainly I shall, as much as I can. Oh dear.”
She thanked her aunt, saw that Lydia was flanked by Mary and Kitty as she spoke with Mr Denny and Mr Pratt, and joined Jane in conversing with Charlotte Lucas.
Sir William, it seemed, had been busy. He had personally visited all the merchants in town to warn them about extending too much credit to the officers.
How well they might have listened remained to be seen, but it had been done, and Elizabeth was once again reminded of her father’s refusal to engage in the matter.
She vowed to herself then and there that, if she ever thought to marry, she must not merely love and respect the man, but also be utterly certain that he would involve himself in his family’s concerns, and preferably his neighbours’ as well.
Mr Collins approached them shortly thereafter, and spoke of what a pleasant home Mrs Philips maintained, and how friendly her guests were, and how wonderful he thought the whole of the neighbourhood, even though it could not boast a home like Rosings Park as its crown.
These comments he addressed particularly to Elizabeth, and she began to regret her amiability towards him the previous day after he scolded Lydia, for he now seemed to believe that they were good friends.
He was regaling them with a minute description of the decoration of Lady Catherine’s parlour when she saw across the room something that could not be ignored. “Please excuse me, sir, I must speak with my youngest sister,” she said, and left him without awaiting a response.
She wove through the chattering throng as swiftly as she could. Approaching Lydia, she caught some of what her sister’s companion was saying.
“…long been his habit, and his cousin’s, to blacken my name wherever I go. It began, I think, in jealousy of the attentions paid to me by the late Mr Darcy—excellent, generous man that he was!—and grew into an implacable resentment which persists to this day.”
Lydia was regarding the scoundrel with wide-eyed sympathy as Elizabeth reached her side. Seizing upon her younger sister’s arm, she hissed, “Lydia, have you run mad?”
“Please, Miss Elizabeth, do not be angry with Miss Lydia. It was I who approached her,” Mr Wickham cajoled with an expression of such earnest sorrow that had she not known what he was, she felt certain she would have been beguiled by him. It was a revelation that could not sit easily with her.
She wanted very much to give him the sharp edge of her tongue, but she would not do what her father had forbidden.
She would instead set the example of saying not a single word to Mr Wickham.
She gave him a brief, disdainful look and turned away, hauling Lydia along.
With a startled yelp, her youngest sister stumbled after her.
Pulling her into the nearest corner, she scolded in a low voice, “You have gone against Papa’s express instruction, and you may be certain he will be informed! Your next quarter’s pin money is as good as lost, foolish child.”
Lydia glared at her, entirely unrepentant. “Not if you keep your tongue between your teeth, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth scoffed. “You cannot possibly think that I am the only one who saw you speaking with Mr Wickham.”
“Indeed, she was not.” Mr Collins now stood beside her once more, and with him was Mary.
“Cousin Mary and I crossed paths as we were making our way to assist Cousin Elizabeth in removing you from his presence. But she was more than equal to the task,” he added with a simpering smile and an abbreviated bow to Elizabeth.
“I only wanted to learn the truth!” Lydia protested.
“To learn that, you need only to wait and see if those debt receipts Mr Darcy is said to hold can be produced or not. What you wanted was the attention of a handsome man,” Elizabeth replied sharply. “Never mind that we have testimony of his poor character from a highly respectable source.”
“The nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh!” Mr Collins interjected. “Son to the Earl of Matlock!”
“A colonel of His Majesty’s Army who has seen battle on the Continent,” Elizabeth added. “As wild as you are for a red coat, Lydia, I should think that would carry some weight with you.”
Lydia pouted and said nothing. Elizabeth sighed, knowing her defence of the blackguard was based on nothing more than his fine appearance and flattering manners.
“You have disobeyed your father, Cousin Lydia, and none of us, I think, will be party to concealing that fact from him,” Mr Collins scolded.
“We certainly shall not,” Mary intoned. “Thank you, Mr Collins, for granting my wayward sister the benefit of a gentleman’s counsel and oversight.”
Mr Collins indicated his pleasure in being of assistance to his newly-found family, and while he exhausted the stream of words necessary to sufficiently express these sentiments, Elizabeth leant forwards and, in harsh whispers, informed Lydia that she was not to stray more than a foot from her or Jane for the rest of the evening, and if she did, Mr Bennet would be encouraged to contemplate the fate of Lydia’s pin money for the second quarter of the new year.
“Do not test me on this, Lyddie,” she concluded.
Sulkily, Lydia conceded to these terms. Her demand kept Lydia from the small company of young ladies—Miss Maria Lucas, Miss Harrington, Miss Amelia Long, and Miss Veronica Goulding—who devotedly attended the officers and giggled far too loudly throughout the evening.
She thought that Mr Wickham’s presence was the only thing which prevented Kitty from adding to their number.
Lydia, for her part, got some measure of revenge by acting as Elizabeth’s pouting shadow for the rest of the evening, dampening the enjoyment of everyone in her vicinity except, it seemed, her cousin.
Mr Collins remained close to hand throughout, chattering to Elizabeth about whatever thought entered his head.
Later, she would laugh at the image of herself, flanked on one side by Lydia’s long face, sighs, and air of ill-usage, and on the other by the cheerful ridiculousness of Mr Collins.