Chapter 9 #2
“I only mean,” Mary continued, “that I do not think any sincere person can be so charming to everyone he meets. Jane, Lizzy, you are popular with our neighbours, but you do not go about playing court to everybody as he does. And — how shall I put this? — he seems particularly attentive where admiration is most easily obtained.”
Jane considered this. “You believe he encourages Lydia intentionally?”
“Everyone enjoyed being admired,” Mary said carefully, “but Mr Wickham takes this too far. Why would he be so very determined to be charming if he did not mean to take advantage?”
Elizabeth leaned back in her chair. “I think you are right, Mary. I only wish I could disagree, but I cannot.”
“Nor I,” Jane admitted sadly.
For a moment, the three sisters were silent.
“Perhaps we should seek advice,” Mary said quietly.
Elizabeth looked at her. “From whom?”
Mary lowered her eyes briefly, though not before Elizabeth noticed the faint colour rising in her cheeks. “There is one person whose judgement might be trusted,” she said softly.
“I believe you mean Mr Greene,” Jane remarked.
Mary looked startled. “How did you know?”
Jane smiled. “You speak of him whenever moral guidance is required. And also in many other circumstances, ever since he first took over the parish.”
At that, Elizabeth could not resist a small laugh.
Mary looked composed, though the colour in her cheeks deepened slightly. “Mr Greene is a sensible man,” she said with dignity. “And as the parson of Meryton Church, he is naturally concerned with the welfare of the neighbourhood. It is only natural that I would think of him.”
Elizabeth nodded. “That is very true,” she said solemnly, careful not to injure her sister’s dignity further.
Mary continued eagerly, “If I were to speak with him privately and explain that we have reason to be concerned about a particular officer’s influence in the town, he might advise us how best to proceed.”
Jane looked thoughtful. “He is certainly a kind man.”
“And a very respectable one,” Mary added quickly.
Elizabeth smiled. “Yes, I believe we should all approve of him extremely.”
Mary looked down at the book in her hands. “I only wish to act prudently.”
Elizabeth leaned forward. “No, Mary, you wish to act usefully. And rightly so.”
Mary’s expression softened slightly at that. “Then you approve?”
“I do.”
Jane nodded as well. “Yes. Mr Greene would certainly treat the matter with discretion.”
Mary seemed pleased, though she attempted to conceal it. “Very well,” she said. “Then I shall speak with him as soon as I can find an opportunity.”
“Very good,” Elizabeth agreed, and turned to Jane. “Now we must speak of your role.”
Jane looked slightly surprised. “My role? I should be glad to help, but I do not know what I can do.”
“You can do something of great importance. If we are to investigate Mr Wickham’s character, we must know something of his behaviour in Meryton.”
Jane hesitated only a moment before understanding. “You mean among the tradespeople.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Precisely. We cannot ask them ourselves, not and expect a direct answer, but luckily, we have a most capable housekeeper. Hill is our best chance for learning if anything is amiss.”
Jane considered the idea with quiet seriousness. “I see. You are quite right; Hill would know how to inquire without causing unnecessary alarm.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Hill knows everything that occurs within twenty miles of this house.”
Jane laughed softly. “That is probably true.”
“If you were to speak to her,” Mary suggested, “and ask her to mention the matter discreetly among the servants and shopkeepers, we might learn whether Mr Wickham has been behaving as honourably as he pretends.”
“And it must be you, Jane,” Elizabeth added. “Hill will naturally hesitate to speak of such improper things with young ladies. You are the eldest, and of a most sensible and responsible character. You will have the best chance to persuade her we must not be kept in ignorance.”
Jane looked thoughtful. “I will do my best. Hill will agree to make inquiries, I think. She has always taken prodigious care of our family.”
Mary looked between them. “And what of Lydia?”
Elizabeth drew a slow breath. “I think we can best protect her by gaining a clearer understanding of Mr Wickham himself. That shall be my task.”
Mary’s eyes widened slightly. “You intend to confront him?”
“Not confront,” Elizabeth replied. “Question.”
Jane leaned forward anxiously. “That may be very uncomfortable.”
“I expect it will be.” Elizabeth squared her shoulders. “But it is necessary.”
Mary regarded her with admiration. “You are very brave.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I am merely very tired of Lydia behaving like a heroine in a bad novel.”
Jane smiled despite herself, and Mary inquired, “What will you say to him?”
Elizabeth considered this carefully. “First, I shall attempt Jane’s preferred strategy.”
Jane looked hopeful. “Which is?”
“To hope for the best and determine whether he might have reformed.”
Mary shook her head immediately. “I think that unlikely.”
Elizabeth smiled faintly. “As do I. But it costs us nothing to discover.”
Jane nodded slowly. “And if he has not?”
“Then I shall ask a few other questions.”
Mary leaned forward with interest. “About his debts?”
“Yes, if I can broach the topic.” Elizabeth’s expression grew more serious. “And about Lydia.”
Jane’s brows knitted together slightly. “You mean to warn him?”
“I mean,” Elizabeth said, “to ensure that he understands Lydia’s situation clearly.”
Mary tilted her head. “What situation is that?”
Elizabeth spoke with deliberate calm. “That Lydia Bennet possesses no fortune whatsoever.”
Jane could not help laughing softly at that. “That is certainly true.”
“And,” Elizabeth continued, “that she possesses a father and two uncles who care very much about her welfare.”
Mary nodded approvingly. “A most useful reminder.”
Jane looked thoughtful. “You believe he might be discouraged by such information?”
“I hope so,” Elizabeth said with a sigh. “At least it will make our expectations perfectly clear.”
Mary sat back with a satisfied expression. “This is an excellent plan.”
Jane smiled at her, though she still looked a little worried. “It makes me dreadfully nervous to take part in anything so near a conspiracy. But I shall do my best, and I think that with some help from our friends and neighbours and a little good fortune, we may have every chance of success.”
Elizabeth rose from her chair. “Then we must each do our part.”
Mary stood as well. “I shall speak to Mr Greene.”
Jane gathered the flowers she had abandoned earlier. “And I shall speak to Hill.”
Elizabeth moved toward the door. “And I,” she said quietly, “shall speak to Mr Wickham.”
For a moment, the three sisters stood together in the small room. Elizabeth treasured the small moment of unity. Difference as they were in temperament and manner, there was a quiet sense of agreement between them that Elizabeth had rarely felt before.
Jane reached for Elizabeth’s hand. “We only wish to protect Lydia.”
“And our family,” Mary added firmly, grasping Elizabeth’s other hand.
Elizabeth looked at them both and smiled. “Yes,” she said. “And Meryton.”
The sisters stood hand-in-hand for a long moment, feeling the weight of responsibility and the fire of determination. None of the three were untouched by nervousness, but all were determined not to stand by and do nothing.
Elizabeth left the room with a sense of purpose that felt both unfamiliar and entirely necessary.
She had often resolved to improve the world in small ways before, but seldom with such a clear and immediate object.
Lydia’s laughter, which drifted faintly up the stairs even now, served as a constant reminder that delay would accomplish nothing.
If Wickham truly meant no harm, then her conversation with him would merely prove it.
And if not…
Elizabeth walked slowly toward the window at the end of the hall and looked out across the frost-covered lawn. The winter evening had grown dark, and the lamps in the village beyond the fields were appearing one by one.
She drew a steady breath.
Speaking to Mr Wickham would not be easy. His manners were too engaging, his confidence too easy, and she knew very well that he possessed a talent for persuasion which had already deceived many people.
But Elizabeth had one advantage he might not expect. She now knew enough of his history to doubt him.
Elizabeth lingered by the window a moment longer before turning back toward the hall.
From the drawing room, Lydia’s laughter rose again, bright and careless, followed by Kitty’s eager agreement.
Elizabeth paused with her hand resting lightly against the doorframe as Lydia declared that Mr Wickham had promised to show them a new game the officers played at Christmas.
“Only imagine how diverting it will be!” Lydia exclaimed.
Elizabeth allowed herself the faintest smile, though it carried more resolve than amusement. “Yes,” she murmured quietly to herself as she continued down the corridor, “I imagine it will be.”