Chapter 7
The afternoon of shopping was off to a good start. Elizabeth had dressed with care, suspecting that the shops involved would be a finer quality than she usually patronized. She did not want to embarrass Georgiana by looking like a poor relation.
If there was someone else she hoped would notice her improved appearance, she did not let herself admit it.
As she had expected, the shops were beyond her budget, but it was still a pleasure to see such fine goods.
Her eyes were caught by a pair of exquisitely embroidered kid gloves which she longed to have as her own, but dared not even ask the price.
When she saw Mr. Darcy watching her, she reluctantly set them aside.
Then they went to a milliner’s shop. Elizabeth was following Miss Darcy when the girl stopped short in the entrance and gasped.
Elizabeth craned her neck to look past her at an all too familiar man at the counter.
A plain but richly dressed young lady of sixteen or so clung to his arm.
Wickham was smiling down at her with what Elizabeth could now recognize as a practiced charm.
“Thank you for allowing me buy it for you,” he said. “After all, it will give me such pleasure to see you wearing it, for it frames your beauty.”
He had said almost the same words to her once about some ribbons, before she had informed him she could not possibly receive a present from a gentleman. Why had she not realized then that he had no honor? Instead, she had been flattered. What a fool she had been!
Oh, she had some words to say to him! But first she had to protect Miss Darcy from him. The poor girl's face was white. She leaned forward and whispered to her, “Shall we go? There are other shops we can patronize.”
“No,” she said clearly, though her voice trembled a bit. “I like the bonnets here.”
Wickham turned, a delighted expression on his face. Elizabeth was still in the shadow of the doorway, so he might not see her. “Miss Darcy! This is the most pleasant surprise. I cannot tell you how often I have thought of you since our last meeting.”
Miss Darcy raised her chin. “Mr. Wickham, what a great pity it is that such a handsome face and charm of manner should be wasted on a man with no more honor than a... a pig in a sty.” The words they had prepared together.
His look of shock was quickly replaced by one of sad concern. “My dear Miss Darcy, what has happened? I fear your brother has been maligning me. He chased me away, you know. I would never have left of my own free will. You must know that.”
The girl swallowed hard, apparently having exhausted her strength.
Elizabeth was glad to take over. “I suppose you did not leave me of your own free will, either.
No, you left because you were expelled by the militia for dishonorable behavior with the colonel's wife - and for racking up enormous debts with the town merchants.” She turned to the milliner.
“Good sir, for your sake, I would strongly urge you not to extend credit to this gentleman. Any tradesman in Meryton would second my suggestion with great vigor.”
Not that she had needed to add that, since he had already been bundling away the hatbox out of Wickham's reach. But she had enjoyed saying it nonetheless.
Miss Darcy stepped forward and spoke directly to Wickham's companion. “We have not been introduced, but out of female solidarity, I must warn you that this man's blandishments mean nothing. His manners are so charming, yet he cares about nothing except your dowry. Pray take care.”
Just then, an older woman hurried into the shop. “There you are, Sophia! Oh, Mr. Wickham,” she simpered. “I did not see you there.”
The girl named Sophia straightened. “I would like to leave now, Mama. I fear we may have been sadly misled in Mr. Wickham's character.” She marched away from him without a backwards glance and out the door.
Wickham's face twisted. “This is all Darcy's fault, damn him!”
A deep voice spoke behind Elizabeth. “I dearly wish I could take credit, but this is purely the work of the ladies. They both deserve medals for their impressive efforts. Sister, Miss Elizabeth, would you like to leave now?”
Georgiana’s face took on a look of stubborn determination reminiscent of her brother. “No, I thank you. I came in here to look at bonnets, and I will not let that person chase me away.”
“Nor I,” said Elizabeth loyally, though Mr. Wickham’s furious glare burned into her. “Oh, look at that one over there, with the turquoise ribbon! It would bring out your eyes beautifully.”
The shopkeeper, with a quick scowl at Mr. Wickham, hurried to help them.