Chapter Four
Hertfordshire
Elizabeth Bennet worked her needle, focused on embroidering her new handkerchiefs. The pattern was complicated, though she could blame no one, as she had created the design herself. Her mind wandered to the new acquaintances she had made over the course of the last several days.
Mr. Collins was a sight to behold. The man was pompous and loud.
He extolled almost constantly on the many fine qualities of his parsonage, Longbourn, and his patroness, the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
He was long-winded, often using ten words where two or three might do.
His attentions to her person were the most irritating, however.
Elizabeth had no interest in the man beyond exchanging the barest of civilities.
Why her mother had pointed Mr. Collins in her direction made little sense, but then again, her mother rarely did anything logical.
Had she truly cared for her children’s happiness, she might have put Mary in his path.
Their temperaments were infinitely more compatible.
Mr. Wickham, the other new acquaintance, was another matter entirely.
He was tall, fine of figure, and exceedingly handsome.
He also appeared to be very agreeable, based on the small amount of conversation Elizabeth had witnessed.
She was truly eager to know him better. He had promised to be at her aunt’s card party that night; perhaps Elizabeth would have an opportunity to speak to him then.
She wondered what Mr. Wickham had discussed with Mr. Darcy.
When they had departed, Mr. Darcy’s lips had been pinched in anger.
Mr. Wickham had been observant enough to see it, Elizabeth was sure of it.
Whatever it had pertained, the discussion seemed to have put Mr. Darcy at ease.
When the two had rejoined the group outside of the haberdashery, Mr. Darcy appeared more relaxed than Elizabeth had ever seen him.
Mr. Wickham’s relationship with Mr. Collins had also been a surprise. That the two should meet in Meryton, of all places, was amazing. Mr. Collins seemed to stand a little taller around the other gentleman. Clearly, her cousin thought highly of her uncle’s new clerk.
Elizabeth was startled out of her thoughts by an outburst from Lydia, who was sitting with Kitty across the room.
“It does not!” Lydia cried. “A man might be just as handsome without a red coat.”
“That is rich, coming from you,” retorted an angry Kitty. “Just two days ago, you declared that a man must have a red coat to be considered truly handsome and worthy of your attention.”
“Might I not change my opinion?” Lydia demanded. “Mr. Wickham is the handsomest man I have ever met. I would rather have him with no redcoat than a whole camp full of soldiers!”Kitty opened her mouth to retort but was interrupted by their mother entering the room.
“Girls! Must you raise your voices so? Have you no compassion on my poor nerves?”
Kitty glowered and did not speak again, choosing instead to show her pique by sticking her tongue out at her younger sister. Lydia replied by tossing her curls and sticking her nose in the air.
Elizabeth smiled to herself at her sisters’ antics.
The two really were incorrigible and not likely to mature any time soon.
Furthermore, Lydia’s interest in Mr. Wickham was only moderately surprising.
The man really was quite handsome. Perhaps, given her interest, in time her sister might be persuaded to turn away from the allure of a red coat in favor of a more suitable choice.
Later in the day, the family arrived at the Phillips’ residence hoping for an evening of entertainment.
Elizabeth scanned her aunt’s parlor for Mr. Wickham, hoping to further her acquaintance with the man.
Lydia, too, appeared to be watching the gathering for their uncle’s clerk.
When Mr. Wickham’s presence was not readily apparent, Lydia sulked off to the corner to speak with one of Mrs. Long’s nieces.
Elizabeth traversed the room, speaking with her friends as she went along.
The card tables were full, and Elizabeth was content to visit with the other guests, especially since Mr. Collins was engaged in playing whist with her aunt.
Lydia, too, had joined a table and seemed to be having some success there.
It was while Elizabeth was partaking of the refreshments that she encountered Mr. Wickham. He, too, sought something from the table and in short order, he addressed her.
“Miss Elizabeth, what a pleasure to see you,” he said politely.
“Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth replied. “How have you been enjoying the evening thus far?”
“It has been very enjoyable,” he said. “Your uncle has introduced me to so many people, I hardly think I shall be able to remember all of their names!”
“In this, they have the distinct advantage, you know,” Elizabeth replied. “They must only remember one name, whilst you must remember many!”
“You are very right, Miss Elizabeth,” Wickham said, chuckling. “I have no doubt that in due time, I will remember everyone’s name to my – and their – satisfaction.”
“Oh, no doubt about it,” Elizabeth replied. “You seem to be an intelligent and friendly sort of man. Opportunities for extending your acquaintance and learning names will not be short on the ground.”
Mr. Wickham smiled in reply. They soon had canvased the usual polite conversation topics and Elizabeth decided to broach the topic that had been most on her mind since the day before.
“Have you known Mr. Darcy long?” she asked. She already knew the answer to this; Mr. Wickham had stated the answer yesterday in her aunt’s drawing room. But it was as good an opening as any other for her to ask her questions as any, so she asked him anyway.
“I have known Mr. Darcy all my life,” Mr. Wickham said. “Old Mr. Darcy was my godfather, and a finer man I have never met. His son is his equal in goodness and duty.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows raised in surprise.
“Indeed?” she asked. “I find I wonder if we are speaking of the same gentleman. The Mr. Darcy that currently resides at Netherfield Park hardly merits this sterling character.” Quite aware that she flouted propriety with her words, Elizabeth stopped talking and raised her glass of punch to her lips and took a sip instead of continuing her diatribe.
Mr. Wickham sighed softly. “I am very aware that Darcy does not make the best of first impressions on those with whom he holds no acquaintance. It has ever been thus with him, I am afraid.”
“That hardly accounts for his behavior the entirety of his stay in Meryton, sir,” said Elizabeth hotly.
She fought to modulate her voice, fearing that its volume was rising to an unseemly level.
“The man is haughty and arrogant, demonstrating his contempt for people everywhere he goes. Why, I had not even been introduced to the man before he insulted me!”
“Oh?” asked Mr. Wickham in reply. “Of what have you to accuse him?”
“On the first night of his stay, there was an assembly in Meryton. There, Mr. Bingley attempted to persuade Mr. Darcy to dance. I was sitting near, and as Mr. Bingley had just been dancing with my sister, he suggested that Mr. Darcy ask for my hand. Mr. Darcy then declared in a voice loud enough for me to hear, ‘She is tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me. I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.’ Is this the behavior of a gentleman?”
Elizabeth cut off her words with a huff, angrily sipping her drink once more as she fought to control her pique.
Mr. Darcy’s insult still hurt, even weeks later.
She ought not to care so much about the arrogant man’s words, but she could not seem to help herself.
Her vanity had been wounded. The confirmation of her mother’s almost daily assertions that she was not handsome was almost more than she could bear.
She hid it behind her witty banter and arch looks but knowing that a man such as Mr. Darcy felt as though she were ‘merely tolerable’ was devastating.
Mr. Wickham sighed deeply, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. “Oh, Darcy,” he muttered quietly. “Miss Elizabeth, I must apologize on behalf of my friend. While there are no excuses for such deplorable behavior, I am certain he has a satisfactory explanation.”
Elizabeth scoffed to herself. “If, indeed, he has one, I should be interested to know what it is,” she said. “He has hardly recommended himself to Mr. Bingley’s new neighbors. The man is universally detested.”
“Then I hope in time he might earn the good opinion of the people of this fine town,” Mr. Wickham said. “Now, tell me, are there many good places for a walk? I find that I am eager to explore the new environs in which I find myself.”
Elizabeth was hardly surprised when Mr. Wickham abruptly changed the subject.
Her behavior in denouncing Mr. Darcy to him, a man who had known Mr. Darcy since infancy, was badly done.
It was highly improper, particularly since Elizabeth had known Mr. Wickham for less than two days.
She therefore answered his questions about places to explore enthusiastically, hoping to mitigate some of the damage she may have done to Mr. Wickham’s opinion of her.