Chapter Six
Netherfield Ball Continued
Wickham watched Bingley and Miss Bennet emerge from the terrace.
Miss Bennet’s cheeks were delightfully pink, and she positively glowed with happiness.
They clasped hands briefly before they separated, Miss Bennet traversing the floor toward her sister Elizabeth, and Bingley presumably in search of Mr. Bennet.
Wickham was reassured that at least in this instance, he had acted correctly.
Dinner was called and the many guests moved toward the dining room. As Wickham joined the throng, Miss Lydia latched onto his arm.
“You will escort me into dinner, Mr. Wickham, will you not?” she said coyly.
Mr. Wickham acquiesced indifferently; really, Miss Lydia was too much.
Wickham sat the girl at the table with no intention of seating himself beside her.
He moved instead to where Darcy sat, intending to dine with his childhood friend.
He heard Miss Lydia huff as he walked away, but he paid her no mind.
Darcy sat rigidly in his seat. The cacophony of voices in the room seemed to be grating especially hard on him this evening.
Wickham sat in the seat next to him, nodding his head to Mrs. Long, who sat in the chair to his right.
Wickham was not very well acquainted with the woman, having only met her briefly at the Phillips’ card party the week prior, but she seemed a sensible and kind sort of lady.
George would enjoy speaking to her again throughout the meal.
If Darcy deigned to converse with him after their earlier disagreement, dinner would prove to be most enjoyable with two such conversation partners.
Darcy’s gaze was focused some ways down the table where Miss Bennet sat with Mr. Bingley; his brow was furrowed as he watched the couple.
Wickham thought he detected some level of confusion on Darcy’s face; Miss Bennet was certainly being more open with her feelings in the moment, directly contradicting Darcy’s earlier comments about the state of the lady’s heart.
A loud exclamation from down the table drew both Wickham’s attention and Darcy’s ire; Kitty and Lydia Bennet were laughing rather loudly at something that an officer had said. Mr. Bennet sat nearby, smirking at the display, making no attempt to correct the girls’ behavior.
The consternation on Darcy’s face darkened into disapproval. As the first course was being served, Wickham moved to distract Darcy from the spectacle taking place further down the table.
“How does your favorite cousin get on?” he asked.
Darcy turned his attention to Wickham. “The colonel is making quite a name for himself in the regulars,” he said, with no little pride in his voice.
“He has led many major campaigns on the continent since achieving his current rank. My aunt would prefer he resign his commission, but he finds his occupation much to his tastes and is not ready to settle down yet.”
“A colonel?” Wickham said in surprise. “I have no doubt he accomplished this on his own merit. Your cousin was always directing our games as children. He is a natural born leader.”
“Indeed, he is,” Darcy confirmed. “He shares guardianship of Georgiana with me. His advice has always been welcome and invaluable.”
Wickham could see Darcy relaxing as the meal progressed.
Etiquette dictated a change in conversation partners part way through the meal, and Darcy had relaxed enough by then to converse congenially with Mr. Phillips, who sat on his other side.
Thus engaged, it appeared Darcy was able to ignore the want of propriety exhibited by the two youngest Bennet sisters.
Near the end of the meal, Mr. Bennet stood up and tapped his glass. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “It gives me great pleasure to announce, at our host’s behest, the engagement of my beloved daughter Jane to Mr. Bingley. Please raise your glasses with me on behalf of the happy couple.”
The happy couple beamed as well-wishes were given all around.
Above the din, Mrs. Bennet could be heard extolling the virtues of having a daughter well married; she seemed incapable of fatigue while enumerating the advantages of the match.
Mr. Bingley, she said, was such a charming young man, and so rich, were the first points of self-gratulation; and then it was such a comfort to think how fond the two sisters were of Jane, and to be certain that they must desire the connection as much as she could do.
It was, moreover, such a promising thing for her younger daughters, as Jane's marrying so greatly must throw them in the way of other rich men.
She concluded with many good wishes that Lady Lucas might soon be equally fortunate, though evidently and triumphantly believing there was no chance of it.
Poor Lady Lucas sat through the long-winded speech, her lips pinched in a tight smile as her friend happily sipped her drink. Mr. Wickham turned to observe Darcy’s reaction to the display, only to find his friend’s disapproving scowl on him.
“You had something to do with this,” Darcy accused.
“Whatever do you mean?” George said nonchalantly.
“You knew of my intent and have deliberately interfered,” Darcy said.
“I prefer the word intervene,” Wickham replied. “Come now, Darcy, surely you can see the happiness written on Miss Bennet’s face?”
Darcy pursed his lips and nodded slightly. “I will concede your point. Miss Bennet is very happy to have secured Bingley, but is that happiness based on love for him or on love for his wealth and position?”
“You have grown quite cynical, Darcy,” Wickham said. “I can hardly recognize the bitter man I see before me. I am sorry that I was not there to counter such feelings over the years.”
Darcy waved Wickham’s sentiment off. “It hardly matters, as it is in the past. I have had many burdens to carry since my father’s passing.
I cannot help how they have shaped my perceptions of those around me.
People’s intentions regarding their dealings with me are mercenary, no matter how they might profess their motives to be pure. ”
“You mean to say you suspect everyone you associate with of mercenary motives? You do not believe anyone has your best interests at heart?”
“I do not,” Darcy replied. “Miss Bingley, for example, sees me as her way into the first circles of society. She flatters me and professes a great friendship with Georgiana, hoping that I may be induced to offer her my hand in marriage. I might find her more tolerable if she dropped the pretense.”
“I suppose that means that by extension, you suspect I have ulterior motives in seeking to renew my friendship with you?”
Darcy considered his friend before answering. “I do not know what to make of you,” he said simply. “I have seen evidence of your honesty and loyalty to me as a friend, yet there is a part of me that refuses to believe the truth of my own eyes, for fear of being disappointed again.”
Wickham nodded. “I suppose in cases such as these, time will be the best evidence that might be supplied.”
The conversation turned to other things, and when supper was over, music was broached.
Miss Mary Bennet obliged the guests with not one, but two songs.
The music she chose was not well suited to her voice, which was weak, and her manner affected.
Wickham believed that if Miss Mary had chosen a simpler tune in a different key, the performance would have been exceptional.
Darcy’s look was grave as Mary sang through her second song.
As the tune concluded, Mr. Bennet approached the pianoforte.
“That will do extremely well, child,” he said. “You have delighted us long enough. Let us give the other young ladies a chance to exhibit.”
Miss Mary, it seemed, was determined to pretend her father’s words did not affect her, though Wickham could see the distress in her eyes.
She gathered her music and withdrew quickly from the instrument.
Mrs. Hurst was quick to claim the young lady’s spot and delighted the assembly with a lively tune.
Darcy wore his disapproval like a cloak; it fairly radiated from him as he witnessed yet another unseemly display from the Bennet family.
If Wickham was sure of anything, it was that Darcy would not act on the inclination he had for Miss Elizabeth when faced with the prospect of uniting himself with such a family.
It was rather a shame, for any lady that could turn Darcy’s head must be a special sort of woman.
When the dancing resumed sometime later, Wickham spied Miss Mary sitting against a wall, her music still clutched to her chest. She stared severely at the other revelers, her face a mask of disdain.
Wickham recognized the hurt her father’s dismissal had caused in her eyes, even if no one else did.
He approached the young lady with the intent of asking her to dance.
“Miss Mary,” he said. “I have been remiss in asking you to dance this evening. Would you happen to have a set free that I might claim?”
Miss Mary stared at him incredulously. “You wish to dance with me?” she asked.
Wickham nodded. “Might your next set be available?”
“I… Well, yes, it is. But no one dances with me.”
“Then let us rectify the situation,” George said cheerfully. “I am sure you will prove to be a delightful partner.”
Mr. Wickham’s supposition was indeed correct. Mary danced as well as any of her sisters did, though she seemed more hesitant in her movements. As the set progressed, her confidence grew, and she began to converse with George.
“Have you always desired to study the law, Mr. Wickham?” she asked.
“The law has not always been the profession I pursued, no,” he asked. “I was once meant for the church, but after studying for two years, I found the profession did not suit me. It was then that I turned to the law.”
“And how does the law compare to sermon-making?” Mary asked curiously.
“For me, it is infinitely preferable. The life of a parson would have been too sedate for my temperament.”
“You imply that it is a life of little action. The calling to preach the word of God could hardly be called sedate, sir,” Mary said somewhat testily. The dance separated the two, allowing George to rally his thoughts.
“You misunderstand me,” Wickham replied when the dance brought them together again.
“I have the greatest respect for those who are ordained to save men’s souls.
That said, it is largely a calm and uneventful profession, filled with seeing to the needs of the parishioners and engaging in charitable endeavors.
As a solicitor’s clerk, I have had the eventful experiences I crave to keep my active nature occupied.
I have settled land disputes, arranged the wills of important men, and navigated legal tangles left behind by careless predecessors.
These activities have challenged my intellect in a way that my studies for taking orders never fulfilled.
I learned much during my time studying the church and I appreciate the insights I gained during those years, but the law is much more to my liking. ”
Miss Mary seemed to be considering his words as the dance parted them again and when they once again came together, she acknowledged his point.
“It is a good thing you know yourself so well, and at such an early point in your life,” she said.
“Many people twice your age still do not know who they are meant to be.”
“And what of you, Miss Mary?” Wickham asked. “Do you know who you are meant to be?”
Miss Mary once again fell silent as she considered his words. She had no answer as the dance ended, and when George left her presence, she appeared to be deep in thought. Hopefully, George thought, the dance they shared had helped brighten her evening after her father’s humiliation.
By the end of the evening, Wickham had danced with all the Bennet sisters save for Miss Elizabeth.
She appeared to be avoiding him, as every time he approached, she hurried off to speak to someone else.
Wickham hoped he had not offended her while simultaneously wishing his words had caused the same introspection in Miss Elizabeth that her sister seemed to be engaged in.
George sat out for the last dance of the evening and was somewhat chagrined to see that Mr. Collins was standing up with Miss Lucas once again.
Perhaps his advice to Collins had not been specific enough in nature, for it appeared as if the man had determined to court Miss Lucas instead of simply using her as a standard by which to measure.
The lady did not seem distressed by the attention, so perhaps there was a match to be made there.
Bingley once again danced with his Miss Bennet and their joy was on display for all to see. His sisters stood together watching the pair, whispering furiously behind their fans. Poor Miss Bennet would have her hands full with the two once she was married.
Soon enough, the carriages began arriving and the guests trickled out one by one.
The Phillips’ carriage was one of the last to arrive, and it was an exhausted trio that boarded the conveyance.
None in the carriage spoke, even Mrs. Phillips, who hummed quietly to herself rather than keeping up her usual stream of dialogue.
George reflected on his farewell to Darcy as they trundled off toward Meryton.
“I will be returning to London in two days,” Darcy had said.
“Will you return for your friend’s wedding?” Wickham had asked.
“I will,” Darcy said. “I plan to spend the holidays in London with Georgiana before we come for Bingley’s nuptials. My sister will join me when I return.”
Darcy had hesitated before continuing. “Write to me, will you?” he finally asked. “I would appreciate the correspondence.”
Wickham had enthusiastically agreed, and the pair had parted ways.
Wickham was truly grateful for Darcy’s gesture. George was almost certain that his friend still hesitated to trust him fully, and the request to exchange letters once again was a boon. Wickham would be pleased to maintain contact with his childhood companion.
The carriage arrived at the Phillips’ residence in due time, and the passengers alighted.
Wickham found his way to his room and in the early hours of the morning, he finally sank onto his bed.
With permission from his employer to start late in the morning, George thankfully closed his eyes and succumbed to sleep.