Chapter Five #3
Even Elizabeth could admit the young man wanted only regimentals to make him completely charming.
His appearance was greatly in his favor.
He had all the best part of beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure, and a very pleasing address.
His best characteristic, Elizabeth quickly noted, was his steel grey eyes.
She knew only one other man whose eyes would match this newcomer’s in intensity.
“From where do you hail, Mr. Wickham?” she asked politely.
Wickham sat beside her on one of the drawing room settles. “Originally, I am from Scotland, Miss Elizabeth, but more recently I lived in Bakewell, as well as in London. I returned eight months prior from a short stay in Kent.”
“Bakewell? In Derbyshire?” she demanded, latching onto the words.
Wickham shifted his weight, as if he would prefer to change the topic or quit the room. “You know Derbyshire, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Our aunt, Sir, comes from Lambton.”
Taking real note of the man at last, ironically, Elizabeth felt she sat beside the embodiment of Evil.
The lieutenant reminded her of the fallen angel, Satan.
The man’s smile was too perfect—his manners were too perfect.
“But perfection cannot exist in this world,” she reminded herself through an internal shrug.
Wickham’s voice changed tenor. Suspicion laced his words. “Outside Pemberley? Do you know the estate?”
“Only by reputation.”
Before the conversation could go further, Lydia and Kitty interrupted. “We wish to walk to Meryton. Aunt Philips invited us to tea. You will join us, will you not, Mr. Wickham?” Lydia asked flirtatiously.
“I will happily see you to the village, Miss Lydia.” He stood and made a quick bow of parting to Elizabeth.
“I am most eager to hear of your luck with lottery tickets,” he continued to tease Lydia.
“I understand from Mr. Denny that you win quite often. Do you have a method you employ?” He took Lydia’s hand and placed it on his arm as he led Elizabeth’s sister to the entrance hallway.
Requiring the exercise to clear her thinking, Elizabeth trailed their party. She did not know what to make of her misgivings about the fine-looking stranger.
Upon reaching the village, they turned towards their aunt’s house.
Fortunately, Aunt Philips met them coming from the shops.
Introductions were made, which were followed on Mr. Wickham’s part by a happy readiness of conversation—a readiness which was at the same time too perfectly correct and unassuming.
The whole party were still standing and talking very agreeably together when the sound of horses drew their notice, and the Misters Darcy and Bingley were seen riding towards them. Elizabeth’s heart leapt in happiness.
On distinguishing the ladies of the group, the two gentlemen came directly forward and engaged in the usual civilities. Bingley was the principal spokesman, and Miss Bennet, the principal object. Elizabeth was happy to see the relationship progress.
“Miss Bennet,” Bingley said as he tipped his hat to Jane, “I was on my way to Longbourn to inquire after your health.”
“I am well, as you can see, Mr. Bingley.” Jane blushed prettily.
As the two openly flirted, Elizabeth noted Mr. Darcy’s distress at finding Mr. Wickham as a member of the Bennet party.
Elizabeth, happening to notice the countenance of both as they looked upon each other, was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting.
Both changed color. One looked white, the other red.
Mr. Darcy’s ice-blue eyes hardened in apparent hatred.
Mr. Wickham, after a few moments, touched his hat—a salutation, which Mr. Darcy ignored.
What could be the meaning of it? Elizabeth’s curiosity piqued.
It was impossible for her not to long to know.
In another minute, Mr. Bingley, without seeming to notice what had passed between his friend and the newest officer in the militia, took his leave and rode on with his friend.
Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham walked with the young ladies to the door of Aunt Philips’s house and then made their bows, in spite of Lydia’s pressing entreaties that they should come in.
Before the gentlemen could escape, Aunt Philips invited them all to supper for the next evening.
The younger girls readily agreed for the whole family, while the gentlemen agreed on their own behalf.
Elizabeth followed her sisters into the house, where she attempted to enjoy their company and the tea, but her mind remained with the gentleman from Derbyshire.
Why had Mr. Darcy snubbed Mr. Wickham? Even in distress, his good breeding assumed control, and Mr. Darcy would perform as a respectable representative to Bingley’s household.
She surmised that his actions held something to do with Derbyshire, and she meant to discover the connection.
As he rode away, Darcy’s anger boiled. Responding to Bingley’s happiness at seeing Miss Jane Bennet only complicated Darcy’s feelings.
Wickham was in Meryton. Worse, he was in Elizabeth’s company.
Had the scoundrel followed him to Hertfordshire?
Did Wickham know how Darcy felt about Elizabeth?
Know how loneliness had named the past two days?
It was now even more imperative that he stay away from her, for, if Wickham learned of Darcy’s fascination, Wickham would harm her.
Somehow, Darcy had saved Georgiana, but now Elizabeth was in danger from the same evil.
He must protect her. His absence was the only logical course.
But would that be enough? He feared his ignoring her would increase Elizabeth’s inquisitiveness.