Chapter Four
“Lizzy,” Papa called from the study as she passed on her way to take a walk. “Would you spare me a few minutes?”
“Of course,” she replied, gathering her skirts and settling into the familiar hollow of her favourite chair where countless afternoons had been spent in quiet companionship.
“I received a most curious letter today.” Her father held up sheets of paper. The handwriting was unmistakably masculine, the penmanship precise. “Any guesses who might have written to me?”
She shook her head before replying.
“It cannot be Mr. Collins, because he is far too occupied making final preparations for his wedding to Charlotte Lucas.”
She recalled, with a faint smile, the image of their blundering cousin trudging away from Longbourn, dragging his battered black trunk towards Meryton.
Not until the next day, did they learn that Sir William Lucas had not only met him, but kindly offered a ride into town.
Somewhere between Longbourn and the posting inn, Collins was invited to spend the night at Lucas Lodge, and by morning was engaged to Charlotte.
“You are correct, it is not from Mr. Collins.” Papa peered over his glasses, his eyes twinkling with delight. “I shall spare you some guesses, because you would never once say the letter came from none other than Mr. Darcy.”
“Mr. Darcy! I am astonished.”
Elizabeth blinked in surprise. A swirl of questions danced in her mind. Why would that proud gentleman, who had barely exchanged ten words with her father, take to writing? Her father chuckled, the sound rich with amusement.
“I was just as astonished as you are. We both have reasons to dislike him, yet here it is, addressing two separate issues in as many paragraphs. Let us dispense with the first now, and save the second for afterward.”
He cleared his throat, unfolded the letter in a single, deliberate motion, and began reading:
‘Mr. Bennet
It came to my attention that your daughter, Miss Elizabeth, inadvertently overheard a disparaging remark I made to Mr. Bingley during the Meryton assembly last October.
My sole intent was to deter my friend from insisting I dance, but my words were unkind and wholly untrue.
Miss Elizabeth is a handsome, lively young woman, and had I known she was within earshot, I would have apologised immediately.
In truth, I did not look to see whom Mr. Bingley suggested as a suitable partner; I merely reacted.
As I feel it is inappropriate to address an unmarried lady directly, I entreat you, sir, to convey my sincere apology to your daughter and my regret for any distress my remark may have caused her. ’
Papa lowered the letter, smoothing the cream-coloured parchment over the oak desk. Elizabeth’s eyes lingered on the neat lines of handwriting before she looked up.
“Well, Lizzy, what do you think?”
She drew a slow breath, clasping her hands in her lap.
“It is unquestionably a gracious and earnest apology,” she replied, her voice quiet but steady. “What puzzles me more is how he discovered that I overheard him. He has been away from Meryton for over a month.”
“That remains a mystery. Now, let us discuss the second half of this letter, regarding Mr. Wickham.”
“He has the audacity to mention Mr. Wickham after refusing his father’s request?”
“Ah…” Her father leaned back in his worn leather chair, which creaked beneath his weight. “You still believe everything that scallywag whispered in your ear as gospel truth? Eve similarly trusted the serpent’s promise of godhood.”
Elizabeth’s lips parted in astonishment at her father’s inference about the handsome officer.
“You liken Mr. Wickham to Lucifer himself?”
“According to Mr. Darcy’s account,” Papa continued, giving his daughter a warning frown. “Wickham was indeed his father’s godson and greatly favoured. Upon the elder Mr. Darcy’s death, Wickham received one thousand pounds and the promise of the living at Kympton.”
“Which Mr. Darcy withheld!” Elizabeth nearly spat out as her fingers curled tightly into fists.
“No more interruptions, young lady,” Papa chastised firmly, his bushy eyebrows drawing together as he returned to the letter.
“Now then… the Kympton living would become his if, and I emphasize if, Wickham completed seminary, took holy orders, and served elsewhere until the position opened. Mr. Wickham informed young Mr. Darcy that clerical life did not suit him, and requested three thousand pounds as compensation.” Her father paused as Elizabeth’s mouth formed a silent “O”, her fingers relaxing their curl.
“Three years later, when the Kympton rector passed away, Mr. Wickham demanded the living, which was justifiably refused.”
Her father set the letter down with a soft tap before folding his hands across his still trim belly, allowing her to contemplate this revelation in the stillness of his book-lined study.
“Mr. Wickham did not speak the complete truth,” she finally conceded after a moment of silence. “Though he did not precisely lie, his deception lay in omitting crucial details to portray himself as a victim of a greater injustice.”
“Indeed.” Papa nodded sagely in agreement. “One wonders why he would share such fabrications with a lady he had only just met?”
Elizabeth’s shoulders slumped as she sighed.
“He discerned my antipathy towards Mr. Darcy within the first five minutes of conversation, ensuring a receptive ear for his Banbury tale.”
“Many a charming scoundrel has whispered sweet falsehoods to impressionable young ladies, all to elevate himself in their esteem,” Papa said. “I take comfort, however, in knowing that you have seen beneath the cracked lacquer of his pleasant facade. His days of deceiving you are finished.”
“I hope I have learned my lesson and will not make the same mistake twice.” She glanced at the letter still held in her father’s hand. “Was that all Mr. Darcy wrote?”
“There was one more piece of business he related, and it has to do with Mr. Wickham’s character.
How he employs his considerable charm to secure credit with merchants and to compromise young ladies of all stations.
His debauchery, it seems, does not discriminate between the daughters of tradesmen or gentlemen. ”
Elizabeth’s thoughts flew to her two youngest sisters, with their fondness for the officers’ red coats and shiny brass buttons.
What providence that Uncle Gardiner had removed them to London before their planned term at the seminaries in Kent.
Had they remained at Longbourn until January, they might have fallen prey to Mr. Wickham’s serpentine charm and flattering words.
“Mr. Darcy has requested I collect papers for Mr. Wickham’s local debts, which he intends to settle himself. Should his accusations prove true, I must alert the gentlemen of Meryton to guard their daughters accordingly.”
“Sir William would be your most effective messenger if you wish all of Meryton to learn of this predator in regimentals. The news would spread throughout the county within a se’nnight.”
“I shall call at Lucas Lodge after settling with the merchants. Sir William, in his capacity as a magistrate, ought to be apprised how much debt this so-called gentleman has racked up. I suspect the amount will be considerable.”
Elizabeth sighed. “How blind I was regarding Mr. Wickham! I lapped up his story like a greedy kitten enjoying a fresh bowl of cream.”
“Your prejudice against Mr. Darcy made you ripe for the picking,” her father replied with a knowing look.
“More like I was low-hanging fruit. I am thoroughly ashamed of myself. Should we inform Mamma of this development?”
“Let us wait for now,” her father replied, adjusting his glasses until they perched more firmly on his nose.
“The gossip of Meryton will arrive at our doorstep soon enough, carried on wings of scandal and whispers. When they do, your mother cannot hold either of us accountable for exposing his true character.”
“There is one advantage to our reduced social calendar,” Elizabeth mused.
“Mamma’s preoccupation with her new title remains confined to Longbourn’s walls.
Were you aware she paces the front parlour like a caged lion, in hopes of spotting the Lucas carriage coming up the drive?
She is positively eager to flaunt her rank as a countess, particularly now that Charlotte is destined to preside over this very house. ”
“Have patience with her, Lizzy,” Papa said with a heartfelt sigh. “Your mother has fretted for years over her security and that of her daughters, like a hen with too many chicks and not enough corn. Her methods were flawed, but her intentions were honourable.”
“Honourable but mortifying,” Elizabeth countered with a wry smile. “There were times Jane and I were often forced to bite our tongues to maintain decorum. Had you not asserted yourself after the Netherfield ball....”
“Yes, well, I considered my youngest girls the silliest in the county, but upon learning…” He paused abruptly, causing Elizabeth to raise her eyebrows in curiosity.
“Needless to say, their conduct at the ball was beyond shameless. And, if that were not bad enough, your mother was not quiet about her aspirations of Jane becoming mistress of Netherfield by Christmas. All this uproar, despite the fact Mr. Bingley never called upon her.”
“Surely, you cannot question Mr. Bingley’s attachment to Jane.”
“Though he clearly favoured your sister above all others, can you honestly claim he ever paid her a proper call?” her father countered.
Elizabeth’s breath caught at her father’s quiet challenge.
“But he did! When he and his sisters delivered the invitation to Netherfield for his ball, he specifically requested Jane’s first dance.”
“Consider what you are saying, Elizabeth. He and his sisters came to Longbourn. That was a mere social obligation. Name one solitary incident during his six-week stay in the county, where he arrived solely for the purpose of calling on Jane. Unaccompanied.”