Chapter Five #2
“Best of luck with that!” Rebecca reclined against the pillows on her bed with a peal of laughter.
“It is too horrible,” Elizabeth groaned as she threw herself down on the plush bed beside her cousin.
“He is far too handsome to lack the confidence I desire in a man. And he is called Darcy, after all! If he is resolved to be insensible of his own superiority, he shall find me equally indifferent to it.”
“That shall be helpful,” Rebecca snorted.
“And why should I be obliged to help him on? If I were timid like Jane, generally affable to everyone and too reserved to show a marked preference, then perhaps Mr. Darcy might have some cause to lament – but you know that I am not! Indeed, I have shown him such a marked preference already that I should make a cake of myself if I did any more – and then I should have dear Mamma in a fit over it!”
“It is astonishing enough that she has not yet noticed your preference for him,” Rebecca agreed. “It is another thing entirely if he is not aware of it himself.”
“Exactly!” Elizabeth continued to rant and ruminate over all that she required of her beau, until her own indignation tired her.
She could not make heads or tails of Mr. Darcy’s continued aloof behavior, and Elizabeth was completely out of sorts when she and her relations attended Lady Findlay’s dinner party a few days later.
She found their hostess to be rather flighty and insipid, and she was further disappointed to find Miss Bingley and the Hursts in attendance.
Elizabeth knew she ought to be delighted at another sample of their ridiculous fawning, but it seemed unlikely she should soon enjoy the pleasure of repeating all her satirical observations to Mr. Darcy, and so she took little enjoyment in Miss Bingley’s myriad transgressions.
Naturally, there was an inordinate supply of single gentlemen, and each of them more tedious than the last. Elizabeth rather feared it would be thus, but there was one unpleasant surprise she was not at all prepared for.
Worse yet, Lady Catherine was equally shocked – and it did not bode well for her to be taken unaware.
There was a rather dramatic exchange between Lady Catherine and the last man in the world Elizabeth expected to encounter…
her uncle, Mr. Gardiner. He had visited Rosings once a year for as long as Elizabeth and Jane resided there, and Lady Catherine had tolerated his presence so long as he took an interest in his nieces – and contributed to the funds invested on their behalf.
Her uncle had begun to provide more for them even than originally agreed upon, for his business had prospered over the years, and following the death of his first wife and son due to a terrible fever, Mr. Gardiner had quit London and purchased an estate in Hertfordshire.
Lady Catherine had at least moderated her remarks on his pretensions to join the landed gentry; it appeared to be his second marriage that she did not smile upon.
Worse yet, Lady Anne was visibly distressed when she made the acquaintance of the second Mrs. Gardiner, a widow in her late forties with a son who had taken over Mr. Gardiner’s business since he retired to the country.
Though they had been wed for many years, Mrs. Gardiner had never joined her husband in visiting his nieces, and she did not appear especially interested in them now.
She was an attractive woman, fashionable and distinctive, with pale blonde hair and a mole near her lip.
Her presence seemed to discomfit Lady Anne, and the presence of Mrs. Gardiner’s son distressed her even more.
She stared at the both a vast deal, but never spoke to them, and at her side Lady Catherine eyed them both with a look that suggested she might stab them with her fork if they provoked her sister any further.
Elizabeth was seated beside Mrs. Gardiner’s son at dinner, and the young man, Mr. Wickham, spoke affably with her.
When she began to feel at ease, he regarded her with a conspiratorial smile.
“You need not think yourself a traitor for being so very agreeable, Miss Elizabeth. I am very sorry that your relations are less than pleased with my own, but I hope that we need not allow that to influence us, when I believe we are both quite capable of being adequately amused together.”
Elizabeth laughed softly. “I appreciate your candor, sir – but how curious! If you know what it is all about, you might oblige me – perhaps there is something to be done.”
“I am sure you shall be a great comfort to your aunt, when you ladies assemble together later this evening. I have heard from Mr. Gardiner that Lady Anne resided with you at Rosings for many years, and I have seen already that there is great affection between you.”
“I adore her,” Elizabeth agreed. “But what is the reason for her distress?”
“I nearly hesitate to tell you, but I believe it is me. My late father was the steward at Pemberley for many years, and since the loss of her own son, who was just a few months older than me, the late Mr. Darcy took considerable interest in me as a child. He mentored me, played with me, even – and though I was but ten years old when he died, he put aside funds for my education. I owe him a great deal for such friendship; with a proper education, I have been able to step in at Gardiner Imports and allow my step-father to enjoy his new life of leisure in the country. He is an excellent man, too.”
“You have been favored by fortune, indeed,” Elizabeth agreed. “But I suppose it pained my aunt to see you treated as the son her husband did not have.”
“Precisely. You are most intuitive, Miss Elizabeth, but I must disappoint you further by saying there is little to be done. I have no wish to put myself forward and make amends – that is, as much as I may wish to, I fear it will do only harm. I should be happy to do your aunt, or even your charming young cousin a good turn, if ever fate allows, in gratitude to old Mr. Darcy’s memory.
I fear the best I can do is to avoid putting myself in her path, as much as I may lament that this will deprive me of such company as I find so vastly beguiling. ”
Elizabeth smiled and nodded, comprehending what he did not say directly; she agreed entirely, for even if her head was not still full of Mr. Darcy, she would have liked Mr. Wickham only in friendship.
He was lanky and fair-haired, which Elizabeth has always thought a great failing in gentlemen of otherwise good looks.
In fact, a strange prickling in her mind conjured up the image of George Darcy, for Lady Anne had worn his miniature in a locket for many years.
She began to wonder if there were some particular reason for her late uncle’s interest in young Wickham, who shared his Christian name – and thus the true reason for Lady Anne’s unease.
She was far from offended by Mr. Wickham’s delicate demurral, and relieved to have a sensible companion who did not flirt with her.
Still, she could tease him just a little.
“I have heard tales of you, the steward’s son.
My aunt always described you as running positively wild, and I heard of your scrapes with Richard in your youth.
I think I might have met you when I was three or four, and you and Richard were hauled in before my uncle the earl and soundly scolded for making Rupert eat mud.
I was always very frightened of the earl after that. ”
Mr. Wickham smiled warmly. “I remember that day! I was ten years old, and I have never been so terrified in all my life! I recall Mr. Darcy thought it was all too hilarious – he was never much impressed with Rupert.”
“Astonishing, for he is a paragon of virtue and industry,” Elizabeth quipped. “I would certainly not wish to see him made to eat mud now.”
Mr. Wickham laughed indulgently. “Yes, I heard he turned out rather wild. Your cousin Richard seems to have grown in good sense; there was always an unspoken competition between us, when he would visit Pemberley in my youth. Had I remained there longer, I fear it might have come to blows between us, but he was very civil to me just now, so I am satisfied. We are practically cousins, Miss Elizabeth, to be connected through both sets of your relations. How refreshing – and yet it is a pity, for I should like to know you better, though honor requires me to pay Lady Anne the courtesy of distance. I must hope you have a friend or two who are very like you in disposition.”
“I have, but they are all related to me. There is one friend of mine – or rather, a young lady who at once seems to despise me and yet desperately seeks my counsel….” Since Elizabeth could not oblige Mr. Wickham in putting forward any suitable ladies, she regaled him with the antics of a most unsuitable one, and with such relish that she nearly ceased to think at all of Mr. Darcy.
But he was not completely banished from her thoughts, and she often over the course of the evening caught herself comparing him to Mr. Wickham.
Though her new friend seemed a steady, affable sort of man, he was nothing to Mr. Darcy in disposition or appearance.
He lacked the intelligent wit, the wry humor, and the irrepressible fascination of sharing her every dearest opinion and wish.
There was something in Mr. Wickham’s mannerisms and style of address that reminded her of the man she admired, and she was chagrined to be so consumed with thoughts of him, when she was really still quite vexed.
She decided that it would be intolerable to allow the strange tension between them to continue, and the next afternoon she resolved to consult her cousin.
“Richard, I have upheld our bargain and sung your praises to Jane, after dinner with the Hursts and again last evening after she was all blushes and smiles for you. Now you must speak to Mr. Darcy, for he has been behaving so very queer!”