11. Chapter Eleven
The following evening, the residents of Longbourn, except for Catherine and Lydia, traveled to the home of Mrs. Bennet’s sister for an evening of light refreshments and games. They had the pleasure of hearing, as they entered the drawingroom, the officers of the militia had accepted their uncle’s invitation and were also scattered amongst the guests.
When introductions were complete, Mr. Collins was at leisure to look around and admire the décor. He was so enthralled with the size and furniture of the apartment, that he declared he might have imagined himself in the small summer breakfast parlor at Rosings.
Mrs. Philips, upon hearing this, looked askance at her sister, who soothed her by saying, “Do not take offense, Hester. From my limited understanding, Rosings Park is a magnificent estate. I am certain Mr. Collins meant it only as a compliment.”
Mr. Collins’ eyes widened and his mouth dropped open upon realizing the hostess thought he had insulted her home.
“I did indeed mean it as a compliment, Mrs. Philips,” he hastened to assure her. “I was very much taken with the crown molding and tray ceiling. One does not expect such elegance in a smaller home and it is quite magnificent.”
He then began describing the grandeur of Lady Catherine and her mansion, with occasional digressions into praise of his humble abode and the improvements he had made at the behest of his patroness. With Mr. Collins happily situated beside the attentive Mrs. Philips, the Longbourn party made their way further into the house, separating into different drawing rooms to visit with neighbors and friends.
The red-draped officers presented themselves in a favorable light with a welcome display of polite manners and gentlemanlike behavior. Not much time had passed before Mr. Wickham, a handsome, congenial man to whom almost every female eye was turned, asked for introductions to the ladies of Longbourn and immediately fell into an agreeable conversation with them. Elizabeth was not surprised by this request, nor when the gentleman’s attention became more focused on her eldest sister. Jane’s beauty was a beacon of light that called many to make her acquaintance, but few withstood the pointed questions the sisters had learned to ask to determine if a gentleman was worth their attention.
The first thing Elizabeth realized was that flattery, coupled with a winsome smile, was Mr. Wickham’s secret weapon. She surmised even the dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered interesting by the speaker’s skill.
How many young girls have fallen for your charm?she wondered. An elevated brow directed toward her eldest sister, who returned her silent query with a slight, elegant shrug of her shoulder, told Elizabeth that Jane was also leery of the officer.
Barely any time had passed before Elizabeth, tired of his prattle, decided to begin what she and Jane jokingly called The Inquisition. Over the next quarter hour, they discovered his father had been a steward of a vast estate in Derbyshire, and the master of that same estate was also his godfather. What surprised them most was learning that Mr. Wickham’s godfather had ensured his godson received a gentleman’s education, sending him to the best private schools, including Cambridge alongside his son. More questioning revealed the dapper officer had, for a brief time, entertained the thought of being a barrister.
“I found the law was not to my liking,” Wickham said in a firm voice. “I am an active person and could not bear the thought of being anchored to a desk for all hours of the day.”
“Forgive me for being indelicate, but given the great education you received, what enticed you to join the militia at this stage of your life?” Elizabeth asked when he paused for breath.
“The prospect of constant and good society was my chief inducement,’’ he began. “I knew this particular Militia regiment was a respectable, agreeable corps, and my friend Denny tempted me farther by his account of their present quarters, and the very great attentions and excellent acquaintance Meryton had procured them.”
“On behalf of the citizens of Meryton, I thank you, sir,” Jane said. “We hope you enjoy our society, small and unvaried as it may seem to those who yearn for the bustle of Town.”
Elizabeth inherently knew her sister referred to Miss Bingley’s frequent lamentations about the lack of good shopping and entertainment in Hertfordshire.
“Society, I own, is necessary to me. A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have now made it eligible. The church ought to have been my profession. I was brought up for the church, and should at this time, have enjoyed a most valuable living, had it pleased the son of my deceased godfather.’’
“Indeed!’’
“Yes, my godfather, the late Mr. Darcy, was excessively attached to me and bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given elsewhere.”
Both Elizabeth’s and Jane’s eyes widened at his mentioning the name of their cousin’s father, but Mr. Wickham did not notice as his attention became riveted on some guests who entered the room. His face paled and Elizabeth turned to see who had generated such a response and found herself looking directly at Mr. Darcy, whose own face was flushed an angry red. Mr. Wickham’s eyes flicked every which way, as though seeking to escape.
“Pray, excuse me. I must find my friend Denny and make plans for tomorrow’s drill exercise.”
Elizabeth could not explain what prompted her actions, but she latched onto Mr. Wickham”s left arm, forestalling his exit.
“May I assume your godfather’s son is none other than Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy?”
“Yes.”
Wickham attempted to slither from her grip but she held firm.
“Well then, how fortuitous that we are here with you now, in front of all these guests.”
“How so?” Wickham inquired, scuttling to position himself behind her while Darcy bored down on them with the speed of a violent summer storm.
“We must decry your terrible treatment and have Mr. Darcy fulfill his father’s dearest wish.” Elizabeth tightened her hold. “If nothing else, he must give you the pecuniary value of the living. It is only right and just.”
“That is not necessary, Miss Elizabeth. I have learned to forgive and forget.”
By this time, Darcy had reached them. He towered over Wickham, his fists clenching and unclenching. He was – she thought with a small frisson of awareness – quite magnificent.
“I invite you to join me outside, Wickham.”
“I am here with my compatriots, Darcy. I do not need to leave the party at this juncture.”
Mr. Wickham must be worse than I imagined, Elizabeth thought, making note neither gentleman made any attempt to greet the other. There is much history between these two.
“We are so glad you arrived when you did, Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth dared to engage the glowering bear.
“You are?” he asked, without once removing his gaze from Wickham.
“Most assuredly, for Mr. Wickham shared with us how he was unjustly kept from receiving a living your father had promised to him.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, he was very clear in most of the details when telling us his version of events.”
Upon hearing the inflections in Elizabeth’s voice, Darcy finally turned his attention to her. She was able to wink with either eye and as one side of her face was concealed from Mr. Wickham, she used the left eye to do that very service. Mayhap it was her imagination, but she thought Mr. Darcy’s shoulders physically relaxed.
“Did you inform these fine ladies that in lieu of the living, you asked for and received three thousand pounds, in addition to the one thousand pounds settled on you by my father at the time of his death?”
Darcy’s voice had turned as hard as the granite peaks of Derbyshire.
“You arrived before I had a chance to share that part of history.”
“To be fair,” Elizabeth interjected. “Mr. Wickham did inform us he was originally intended for the church and having received an excellent Cambridge education; he likely used those funds toward pursuing holy orders, which unfortunately did not pan out along with his lackluster attempt at becoming a solicitor.”
“I truly must leave. I see my fellow officers are waving me over.”
Elizabeth released her hold and Wickham tugged down the front of his new red tunic before giving all of them a polite half-bow. He turned to leave but halted midstride when Mr. Darcy spoke again.
“I shall give your regards to my cousin when I write him tonight,” Darcy said, his tone almost conversational. “Richard is most anxious to make your reacquaintance. You should know he was exceedingly upset that we had missed you by a few days this past summer.”
Wickham’s face turned ashen, the last vestiges of color draining from his features. Elizabeth found it very interesting that the panicking gentleman bypassed all his fellow officers and fled the house without saying farewell to anyone.
It took more than a half hour before Elizabeth and Darcy had a modicum of privacy for a more intimate conversation. They stood in a loose conversation circle, which now included the viscount and Charlotte while the others played cards and games of chance. She was burning with curiosity about Mr. Wickham but dared not bring him back into their discussion, having seen how angry Mr. Darcy was toward him – andjustlyso, she thought with vigor. Even though she and Jane had taken measure of the man, it rankled that he had tried to lie so blatantly to them upon first acquaintance.
“I am very sorry you were importuned by Wickham,” Darcy said.
“He did not injure us, sir. My sister and I had already assessed his character and found him wanting,” she replied softly.
“I am impressed,” he murmured and then chuckled at her raised brow. “I am not impugning your intelligence, but Wickham has a way with women that defies explanation. I would love to know how you saw through his gilded lies.”
“Jane and I have learned how to separate the dross from silver with a few strategic questions that reveal a person’s character.”
“Have you done this with me?”
Elizabeth nearly laughed out loud at his look of abject horror and dismay.
“Oh no, you are in a category all of your own. You have never attempted to be anything other than who you are. Good or bad, you reveal all.”
She glanced across the room and noticed the rest of the Netherfield party had arrived, late as usual. Miss Bingley impatiently scanned the room, stopping when her gaze lit upon their happy group.
“I believe our reprieve is over. Your ardent, yet unwanted admirer is about to come upon us.”
While Darcy appreciated Elizabeth’s brand of humor, he dearly wished it did not have deadly accuracy concerning Miss Bingley, who was determined to remain at his side and distract him from enjoying his lady’s fine eyes.
“How I long to see the earl again.” Miss Bingley said within minutes of joining them, her brother, sister, and a sober Hurst in tow. “He would surely liven up this dreadfully dull party.”
“Which earl was that sister?” asked her faithful sidekick, giving Darcy a hint the two scheming harpies had planned this conversation long before their arrival.
“You remember him, Louisa. He is great friends with your husband’s brother, Gilbert.”
“Of course, the Earl of Tiverton!” Mrs. Hurst declared with great excitement. “What a handsome young man, and so attentive to all of us, especially my dear sister.”
“You must stop.” Miss Bingley lifted her fan and flicked it in front of her face, behaving as though she were embarrassed. “You know I do not encourage his attention. Our conversations revolve around mutual acquaintances, nothing more.”
Darcy could not help but notice the smug look on Hurst’s face as his wife and sister told blatant lies in front of Jane and Elizabeth. It was clear he had reminded his wife of their tenuous connection to the young earl, fully aware that she and Miss Bingley would never pass up the opportunity to boast about their elevated social connections, particularly in the presence of the Hamilton sisters whom they held in such disdain.
“Did I hear you reference the Earl of Tiverton?” Darcy had to turn his head to hide a smile upon hearing Elizabeth’s question. “When and where did you meet him?”
Miss Bingley visibly preened, lifting her chin high, elongating her neck to look down at the impertinent miss.
“I met him several times at the Hurst family estate in Dorset. He has become a particular friend of mine.” She lowered her chin and gave Elizabeth a coy look. “I do not believe I am telling false tales when I share that he was greatly disappointed by the fact he would not see me until the new year when we both will be in Town. Although, Mr. Hurst did say something about the earl coming to Hertfordshire for Christmas.”
“The earl is coming here?” Miss Elizabeth asked, seemingly wide-eyed with wonder at the Banbury tale Miss Bingley was crafting from thin air. “Is he coming to Netherfield to court you proper?”
“He is not.” Miss Bingley brought her fan up to touch her left ear and Mrs. Hurst gasped. “I am aware he will soon take over his ancestral estate in Norfolk and would not be at all surprised if an invitation to visit him there is forthcoming.”
“Does he have any family?”
“He does not speak extensively about them, but when he does, it is with great warmth and affection.”
“What is the family name? Mayhap Jane and I have heard of him.”
Miss Bingley emitted a derisive snort while Darcy choked back another chuckle.
“You could not possibly have heard of him. We do not move in the same social circles, Miss Eliza.”
“That is true,” Elizabeth admitted.
Bingley’s younger sister continued to burrow further into her den of lies.
“I have heard Mr. Gilbert Hurst call the earl by his given name when not addressing him as Tiverton.”
“And…?” Elizabeth canted her head to one side and waited. Miss Bingley gave her a blank look, which prompted Elizabeth to ask, “What does the younger Mr. Hurst call the earl?”
“I believe it is Travis.” Miss Bingley flicked a glance at Mrs. Hurst who had regained her composure and gave a serene nod. “The earl admires me greatly and will have frequent opportunities to see me on the most intimate footing when we visit his estate. I am certain when I meet his sisters, we shall become bosom friends.”
“I can say with absolute certainty,” Elizabeth began, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “The earl’s sisters will form a definite opinion on his friendship with you.”
“What do you mean? Why would you say that?”
“As you may have heard, I have a twin brother and Jane and I would insist on meeting any young lady he showed more than a passing interest in, just as you do yours. We would hope to find her pleasing and amendable, along with being a gracious hostess to neighbors and friends, and if we discovered this lady was unscrupulous in her behavior, such as telling monstrous untruths in public, we would take our brother aside and advise him to re-assess his friendship before committing to a lifetime of misery.”
“I have nothing to worry about concerning the earl’s family. I have all the attributes of an accomplished woman.”
“What are those attributes, Miss Bingley?” Darcy”s mischievous cousin asked.
“A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions.”
“I find I cannot completely agree with you, Miss Bingley,” Darcy said and felt a surge of satisfaction when that lady’s mouth dropped open. “The word accomplished is applied to too many women who have done nothing more than net a purse or paint a pretty table. While these attributes are laudable, none of them alone make a woman a good wife or a good mistress of an estate.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Miss Bingley’s face had turned ashen, she was so taken aback by him not agreeing with her view in front of the Hamilton siblings.
“I will not deny that listening to a lady play the pianoforte is a wonderful way to spend an evening, but how does her mastery of Mozart impact the running of her household? To be truly accomplished, a woman must know how to look after her servants and tenants, keeping accurate records and a balanced ledger. This requires basic mathematics and organizational skills. She visits neighbors and receives them into her home with grace and kindness and neither listens to nor spreads gossip. And to all this,” he gave a sidelong glance at Elizabeth. “She must add something more substantial, such as the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”
“Good heavens,” observed Elizabeth. “You have given this much thought, however hearing both of you extol what makes an accomplished woman, I wonder if you know any at all. The list is quite extensive.”
“I know of at least four,” Darcy said, thinking of his Aunt Matlock, Lady Courtland, and the Hamilton sisters. He held Elizabeth’s gaze with his own. “You are one of them.”