Chapter II
Customary though it was to return morning visits in polite society, Elizabeth was unconvinced that the situation warranted it.
“Mrs. Hurst was so good as to visit us, Lizzy,” said Jane, sounding quite reasonable. “We shall not stint in returning her civility.”
In this, Mrs. Bennet was, to the surprise of no one, an enthusiastic supporter. “Of course, you must go, Jane. Perhaps while you are at Netherfield, you may gain some intelligence of Mr. Bingley.”
Knowing her sister was determined, Elizabeth protested little, and she could own to curiosity about how the woman would behave.
Would her civility survive a day’s absence, especially when she had witnessed the Bennet family’s excesses yet again?
Despite her behavior the day before and her assurances that she would not allow her brother to further bruise Jane’s tender heart, Elizabeth thought she was justified in holding her suspicion until Mrs. Hurst proved herself.
She even thought Mrs. Hurst herself would acknowledge it, little though such an opinion might have been possible only a day before.
To Elizabeth’s relief, Mrs. Bennet declined to join them, instead shooing her daughters out of the house with instructions to pay every appearance of civility to their neighbor. That was unnecessary, of course, but they all remained silent on the matter.
Kitty and Lydia’s willingness to go was, perhaps, surprising, given the winter season and the inadvisability of a walk to Meryton; she supposed they were wild to be away from the house for a time.
What was not surprising was their entreaties to stay in Meryton for the duration of the visit to Netherfield, but in this, Jane and Elizabeth united in denying any such appeal.
That did not put the girls in good spirits, and they spent the remaining time in the carriage casting aggrieved looks at their elders.
Elizabeth found she could tolerate their displeasure with cheer.
Contrary to any suspicion Elizabeth might have had of a return to incivility, Mrs. Hurst welcomed them to Netherfield, and her husband was even present, though not inclined to join the conversation.
That he was a lone man in a room of women rendered his reserve understandable, though Elizabeth knew it was his custom to remain silent in such situations.
For a time, their conversation remained polite but uninspiring, with comments on the weather, the roads, and some mention of their recent doings dominating.
From there, they moved on to matters of the estate, though there was not much of the latter of which to speak, especially as Mr. Hurst had excused himself not long after the visit began.
“There was not much to do concerning the house,” said Mrs. Hurst. “Mrs. Nichols has been the housekeeper at Netherfield for some years and knows her business.”
“We are well aware of Mrs. Nichols’s qualities,” said Elizabeth. “Before becoming the housekeeper at Netherfield, she was a maid at Longbourn.”
Mrs. Hurst regarded her with interest. “I do not think I have heard that before.”
Elizabeth shrugged. “It is common knowledge in the community.”
That became a discussion of servants, tenants, and townsfolk.
In a small neighborhood such as that surrounding Meryton, it was not unusual for there to be many connections among those who served the gentry.
There were several connections from Longbourn’s tenants who possessed service positions at the various estates in the neighborhood, and there were many such ties in reverse.
Mrs. Hurst appeared to know something of this, which Elizabeth supposed was not surprising—her husband was a gentleman, after all.
It was some time later when the elder ladies had gathered around the pianoforte—Kitty and Lydia knew nothing of the instrument and were only interested in music as it pertained to their ability to dance.
Mrs. Hurst sat at the instrument first, entertaining them with a few songs, then she ceded her position to Mary, who was more than eager to accept.
After a time of this, Mrs. Hurst turned to Elizabeth.
“Miss Elizabeth, I have a question I would like to ask.”
Though curious, Elizabeth did not hesitate. “Of course. How may I assist?”
“It concerns your sisters and, more particularly, the officers.”
“Oh, yes,” laughed Elizabeth. “The officers are among my sisters’ favorite subjects to discuss.”
Mrs. Hurst offered a slight smile and then turned serious. “That much I had apprehended, even before the ball my brother hosted. I will own, however, that I am curious about one member of the company. Am I to understand that Mr. Wickham enjoys the regard of your neighbors?”
For a moment, Elizabeth could not respond, so unexpected was the question. “Mr. Wickham?”
With a shrug, Mrs. Hurst smiled and said: “Your sisters mentioned him as if he were the most handsome man they have ever seen.”
“Do you know anything of him?” asked Elizabeth, suspecting she knew what Mrs. Hurst was asking.
“No, I know little,” replied Mrs. Hurst. “But I heard the name, and I was curious.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, Mr. Wickham is respected in the community. There is something artless about him that appeals to us, and many of the young ladies do find him handsome.”
It was a challenge, one Mrs. Hurst appeared to dismiss without effort. “Given the officers’ presence at local events, I am certain we shall see him occasionally.”
Though Elizabeth was tempted to retort, she instead shook her head. “The officers are highly regarded in Meryton, so you will almost certainly encounter him. Of late, he has found one of the local ladies agreeable, so he is not in evidence as much as his fellows.”
Mrs. Hurst considered this. “He is paying court to one of your friends?”
“Paying court is perhaps not accurate,” replied Elizabeth. “Miss King is not well-known here, but I understand she is staying with an uncle at an estate that is not traditionally part of Meryton’s society. She joins certain functions but more often attends society in a town to the east.”
“Then that is curious, Miss Elizabeth,” replied Mrs. Hurst. “You know enough of me to understand that I was not born a gentlewoman.”
Surprise that Mrs. Hurst would own to such a thing almost resulted in a comment that was not at all proper.
Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley had always given the impression of wishing to forget their background.
Fortunately, Elizabeth did not blurt the first thing that came to mind, and Mrs. Hurst continued to speak.
“To many, I made a fortunate alliance. A tradesman is on a higher societal scale than a steward, yet the son of a steward is aspiring to wed the daughter of a gentleman? That seems like a wide disparity.”
Having never considered it that way, Elizabeth was silent for a moment. Then she shook off the implication.
“Yes, I suppose it is, but as I said, there has been no talk of a courtship. Mr. Wickham has known Miss King only since they both attended the same party a few days before Christmas.”
Mrs. Hurst nodded. “Such marriages are not singular, of course. There must be some motivating factor beyond pure inclination.” Mrs. Hurst smiled. “After all, love is all well and good but love alone cannot provide for a couple’s future.”
By now, Elizabeth was not happy with the way the discussion was going, though she kept her anger in check. “Are you suggesting that Mr. Wickham is mercenary?”
“Having never met the man,” replied Mrs. Hurst, “I can say nothing about him. You are better positioned to speak of him than I am. Is Miss King’s situation fortunate enough that they may support themselves? As the son of a steward, I cannot imagine that Mr. Wickham has much.”
It was on Elizabeth’s mind to retort that Mr. Darcy had reduced Mr. Wickham to his current circumstances, but another thought intruded, forcing out the first. “Miss King possesses a fortune of ten thousand pounds,” said Elizabeth, though reluctant to say as much.
“As I understand, she inherited it recently.”
“Ah,” said Mrs. Hurst, sounding rather knowing about the whole thing. “That explains it then.”
“Do you know something about Mr. Wickham?” asked Elizabeth, unwilling to dance around the subject any longer.
“What you have told me,” replied Mrs. Hurst. “I have also heard that Mr. Darcy does not think much of Mr. Wickham, but I heard that through my brother, rather from the man himself.”
Mrs. Hurst shrugged, though Elizabeth thought it was anything other than uncaring. “As I said, I have no direct knowledge of Mr. Wickham and shall not attempt to take his measure. It was idle curiosity and nothing more.”
With that, Mrs. Hurst turned back to Jane and Mary, leaving Elizabeth alone with her thoughts. They were not pleasant thoughts, for the gentleman she had endeavored to forget had intruded again, and Elizabeth did not appreciate it.
WHEN THE BENNET SISTERS departed, Louisa Hurst watched them go, considering the visit and what she had learned.
That the youngest Bennet sisters fixed their attention on the officers was not something she had misunderstood—it would have been difficult, considering how often their conversation centered on the regiment.
What Louisa had not known was that Mr. Wickham had gained such a foothold in Meryton, though she supposed that, given the number of ladies of Lydia Bennet’s ilk, it was no surprise.
The truth was that Louisa knew little of Mr. Wickham—had never so much as heard the name before his appearance in Meryton.
All she knew of him was that Mr. Darcy did not consider him a friend, and that she only knew from a passing comment from her brother, an oblique warning to Caroline to take care.
Louisa snorted—if there was anyone alive who was immune to the power of a handsome rake, it was Caroline.
She had no interest in anyone other than Mr. Darcy.