by Jann Rowland
“That is interesting,” said Elizabeth, finding the coincidence curious. “Then you must know many of the same people.”
“To a certain extent. I have not moved in any society with Mr. Darcy, for all that my uncle’s estate is not far from there. Mr. Darcy knows many of the people in Lambton, but he does not socialize with them.”
“And what were your impressions of the gentleman?” asked Elizabeth, interested to hear what her aunt might say of him.
“It has been many years since I lived in Lambton,” was Aunt Madeline’s thoughtful reply. “I am several years older than Mr. Darcy, so my memories of him were the memories of a child. Mr. Darcy was always polite and proper, even as a boy, though some of his companions were not of the same caliber.”
Mrs. Gardiner’s words pricked Elizabeth’s memory, prompting her to say: “Do you recall a Mr. Wickham, Aunt?”
“George Wickham?” asked Aunt Madeline. At Elizabeth’s nod, her lips contorted into a moue of distaste. “Yes, I remember George Wickham. Though I left Lambton before he and Mr. Darcy were ten years old, my friends and I did not think much of Mr. Wickham. He was a shifty child, always looking to create contention or stir up some mischief. Where did you hear of Mr. Wickham, Lizzy? Did Mr. Darcy mention him?”
“No, Aunt,” replied Elizabeth. “Mr. Wickham was an officer in the regiment stationed in Meryton. Not long before I came to London, I came across him in town; he used the opportunity to make some rather infamous claims about Mr. Darcy.”
“If he is anything like he was as a child, I should not believe a word he says about Mr. Darcy.”
“Believe me, Aunt, I realized that at once. His account of Mr. Darcy is unlike anything I have seen in the gentleman, and his efforts to charm me did not help his cause.”
Aunt Madeline nodded, though with some distraction. “It may be best that you raise the subject of Mr. Wickham with Mr. Darcy, should you have the opportunity. A gentleman of Mr. Darcy’s position would not wish to have an old acquaintance going about the country defaming him.”
“You need have no fear of that,” said Elizabeth “for Mr. Wickham will no longer bother anyone.”
Elizabeth related the story of what had ensued after Mr. Wickham’s unfortunate attempt to charm her, and by the end of her tale, Mrs. Gardiner was nodding with satisfaction. “I suspect, Elizabeth, that Mr. Wickham deserved it. That is also something of which you should inform Mr. Darcy, for he will wish to know his nemesis will no longer bedevil him.”
Nodding, Elizabeth spoke of something else, and they dropped the subject. After a time of speaking with her aunt and sister, Aunt Madeline excused herself to check on her children, leaving Jane and Elizabeth alone with Kitty. It had been Elizabeth’s impression that Kitty was eager to show them some of her recent work, for Elizabeth had not visited Gracechurch Street for some time. Eventually, she raised the subject, and Elizabeth agreed to view her work.
“These are lovely, Kitty,” said Elizabeth when her sister led her into the narrow room her uncle had converted to her workshop, Jane echoing her sentiments. “I have not seen your art in some time, and the difference between this and the last time I saw your paintings is striking.”
Kitty beamed with pleasure. “Master Hough says my true talent is in painting, and he has taught me several new techniques.”
“Yes, I can see that,” said Elizabeth.
The room, as Elizabeth had noted before, was not large, but it was bright, having a sizeable window on one wall open to the street below. Scattered about sat several finished paintings, depicting various things, from one of Longbourn to one of Mr. Gardiner’s house, several of sundry items of interest, such as a bowl of fruit and a picture of the Gardiners’ sitting-room, to one sitting on the easel, which was not yet complete. It was this last which drew Elizabeth’s attention.
“Is this a painting of Aunt Gardiner?” asked Elizabeth, inspecting the lines of the woman’s face, though Kitty had yet to fill in most of the colors.
“It is,” confirmed Kitty. “Uncle expressed an interest in a portrait of our aunt, and I decided to oblige him as thanks for all he has done to support me and see to my education.”
“This is excellent,” said Elizabeth, turning to her sister with appreciation. It was to her other sister that she directed her next comment. “Was Mr. Bingley not saying how he wished to commission a portrait of you, Jane? If he should see this, he would fall on his knees and beg our sister to oblige him!”
As Elizabeth had intended, both her sisters colored in embarrassment. Jane, the dear creature that she was, could not respond, but Kitty turned to Jane and said: “I am eager to paint your portrait, Jane.”
“Should the opportunity present itself, I will sit for you, Kitty.”
The sisters stayed in that little room for some time, discussing Kitty’s efforts. As the Bennet daughter so often overlooked, Kitty appeared pleased to be the focus of her younger sisters’ attention. With love for her craft unfeigned, she enthusiastically explained the purpose of her efforts, the nuance of a brushstroke here, or the reason for a bit of color there. Elizabeth, who had no talent in the arts, listened with more interest than she had ever felt before.
After a time of this, Jane excused herself to find her aunt, leaving Elizabeth alone with Kitty. They continued to speak for some moments, though their topics became more general. Then Kitty dropped a piece of surprising news of which Elizabeth had heard nothing.
“You have received a gentleman caller?” demanded Elizabeth when Kitty referenced it in an offhand manner.
Her sister colored and ducked her head. “He has only called twice, Lizzy. I would not suggest he is anything so grandiose as a gentleman caller.”
“Then what would you call him?” asked nudging her sister’s shoulder. “If he is a gentleman and he has called on you, that, by definition, makes him a gentleman caller, does it not?”
The two girls laughed together. “Yes, I suppose you must be correct!”
“When and where did you meet Mr. . . . what is his name?”
“Mr. Russell,” said Kitty. “I met him at the Davidson ball.”
“Kitty,” said Elizabeth, a hint of chiding in her voice, “The Davidson ball was only three days ago, and the gentleman has already visited you twice? And you would not term him anything so grandiose as a gentleman caller? From my perspective, that is a promising inclination.”
Again, Kitty blushed, though she shot Elizabeth a shy smile. “I do like Mr. Russell, Lizzy. He is a perfect gentleman, and when he comes to speak to me, it is as if no one else in the world exists.”
“Then I am happy and hopeful for you, Kitty,” replied Elizabeth.
Until Elizabeth and Jane returned home, Elizabeth listened to her sister wax eloquent on the virtues of her caller, noting that Kitty was as enthusiastic on the subject as she had ever been about her painting. If this man proceeded from calling to lovemaking, it would leave Elizabeth as the last unmarried Bennet daughter. Were the thought of returning to Longbourn and Mr. Collins not looming in the back of her mind, Elizabeth might have thought nothing at all on the matter.
The next day, those at the Bingley residence received the visit of the Darcys. Pleased to see them and eager to deepen her friendship with Miss Darcy, Elizabeth rose with her family and welcomed them, reflecting on how annoyed Miss Bingley would be when she discovered she had missed them. Soon, however, Elizabeth realized that circumstance had not been accidental, a matter she discovered when she made some slight observation to Miss Darcy on the subject.
“Is Miss Bingley not spending the day with her sister?”
Curious, Elizabeth regarded the girl, saying: “I do not believe anyone has mentioned it; how could you have known her schedule today?”
When she colored a little, it gave rise to a suspicion in Elizabeth’s mind. Miss Darcy confirmed this when she said: “Is she not with her sister often?”
“Yes, she often is.” Elizabeth then turned to look at Mr. Bingley, who was speakin
g with Mr. Darcy, and said: “I suppose Mr. Bingley might have known of her plans, and your brother and Mr. Bingley are great friends, are they not?”
“Very good friends!” confirmed Georgiana. “In fact, my brother mentioned meeting Mr. Bingley at his club yesterday.”
“Then say no more, Miss Darcy,” replied Elizabeth with a laugh. “It seems your brother is practiced at such things. I cannot but approve.”
Their conversation turned to other matters of interest to them both. Elizabeth spoke something concerning her family and her recent removal from her childhood home, while Miss Darcy reciprocated and spoke of her situation. Elizabeth had not realized she had been without her parents for so long, for her mother had died when she was an infant, while her father had passed away five years ago. While she had been closer to her father than to her mother, Elizabeth could not imagine not knowing her at all.
“William has been a wonderful guardian,” said Miss Darcy, referencing her situation after her father’s death. “And my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam shares in my guardianship. We are very close to the colonel.”
“Ah, yes,” replied Elizabeth, remembering the colonel, with whom she had danced at the ball. “Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed like an excellent gentleman, though I must wonder at your guardians being a pair of unwed bachelors.”
Miss Darcy grinned. “That is what my aunt always says. Well, both of my aunts, actually.” The smile faded a little from her face as she added: “Lady Susan, who is my uncle, the earl’s wife, is helpful and supportive, but my other aunt, Lady Catherine, is difficult to bear.”
Elizabeth could not help the laugh her friend’s comment provoked. “Believe me, Miss Darcy, I know all about Lady Catherine. My sister’s husband, you see, was Lady Catherine’s parson. He cannot say enough about her ladyship, though he has not been her parson for four years now!”
“I can well imagine it,” said Miss Darcy. “But my brother is an excellent man. I do my best not to give him any trouble.”
“Oh, come now, Miss Darcy,” said Elizabeth. “All ladies must attempt to give their guardians some trouble.”
“No, Miss Bennet, I could never do that,” protested Miss Darcy. “I have already caused him enough trouble—I should not wish to do so again.”
While Elizabeth could not imagine such a sweet and self-effacing creature as Miss Darcy causing her brother trouble, the embarrassment in the girl’s manner warned her against pursuing it further. Thus, Elizabeth changed the subject, restoring their earlier comfortable conversation. After a time of this, the two agreed to refer to each other by their first names, further strengthening their friendship.
When Mr. Darcy joined them a short time later, they included him in their lively discussion, the gentleman acquitting himself well. Now that he was before her, however, Elizabeth remembered the conversation she had had with her aunt the previous day. Thinking of her aunt’s advice, she determined to tell Mr. Darcy something of his former friend’s fate.
“I had not thought of it before, Mr. Darcy, but I believe I have some intelligence of a former acquaintance of yours.”
A frown creased the gentleman’s forehead. “You do? Someone here in London?”
“This was before I left Meryton. I apologize, for I fear that the acquaintance was not a happy one, but a Mr. Wickham, who was a member of the regiment in Meryton, had some interesting things to say of you.”
The instant the words came from Elizabeth’s lips, she realized there was more at play with Mr. Wickham than she knew. Mr. Darcy’s mouth set in a straight line and daggers appeared in his eyes, while Georgiana paled and darted a look at her brother. To put them both at ease again, Elizabeth was quick to explain.
“I shall not bore you with a recitation of the charges Mr. Wickham laid at your door, Mr. Darcy, for I suspect you have heard them before.”
Though Mr. Darcy appeared confused, the ferocity of his glare lessened. “Oh? I sense there is a story here, Miss Bennet.”
“There is, Mr. Darcy. The ending, I believe, will satisfy you.”
By now Miss Darcy had regained her composure and was listening intently. Elizabeth launched into her story, informing her companions of Mr. Wickham’s attempts to charm her, her subsequent conversation with Mary, and what happened after. As she informed them of every successive event, she was witness to the lightening of their countenances and the improvement of their moods. By the end of her account, Georgiana was wearing an expression of faint satisfaction, and Mr. Darcy was chuckling.
“A masterfully executed plan, Miss Elizabeth,” said the gentleman. “You and your sister have administered a valuable lesson to my former friend, one he was in sore need of learning. Though Wickham has long considered young ladies to be his playthings, to do with as he wished, it seems he met his match when he attempted to appeal to you.
“As you have already apprehended, my acquaintance with Mr. Wickham has not been a pleasant one, though we were friends as boys. His offenses against my family have been great, and the punishment he has received just.”
“So I expected, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth. “My aunt, who hales from near your estate, also had some interesting things to say about Mr. Wickham, though that was only yesterday.”
“Your aunt is from Derbyshire?” asked Georgiana.
“From Lambton, which I understand is very near your home.”
“Only five miles away,” confirmed Mr. Darcy. “Has your aunt returned to Derbyshire of late?”
“Not from what I understand,” replied Elizabeth, “though she speaks of it often with great fondness.”
A new subject raised, they spent the rest of their time together speaking of pleasant remembrances of their homes. Though Elizabeth spoke of some of her impressions of Hertfordshire, she listened while the siblings shared their opinions of Derbyshire.
“You must still think me foolish for allowing myself to be misled by Mr. Wickham.”
Darcy, roused from his thoughts of Miss Bennet, turned to his sister, seeing how closed she had become, unnoticed while Darcy had been immersed in his concerns. The carriage, he noted, was passing through the wide boulevards of London, not far distant from their home.
“We have spoken of this before, Georgiana,” said Darcy. “I have since become convinced that I should have warned you of Wickham rather than remaining silent. That you did not suspect him was unsurprising. At the same time, you should have known better than to accept his overtures and to allow him to convince you to elope with him.”
“But he did not mislead Miss Elizabeth with his charm for an instant,” argued Georgiana.
“No, she was not misled. But she did not have fond childhood memories of him either. She is also a little older than you, and that extra experience might have made the difference.”
“That is true,” said Georgiana, nodding though she remained deep in thought. “To be honest, Brother, I am quite impressed with Miss Bennet. I believe she is an excellent example of what I should strive to become.”
“In what way?” asked Darcy.
“Her confidence, her poise, her perception—all of it, I suppose. I know I have only met her twice, but I am convinced she will become a wonderful friend.”
“I cannot agree more, Georgiana,” replied Darcy, considering the woman who had flown into his life like a comet. There were unplumbed depths to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Darcy anticipated discovering more about her.
Chapter XI
During the season, Darcy’s club was a busy place. As most gentlemen of any standing in society gathered with the nobility while parliament was in session, the city often seemed filled to overflowing. There were many who, like Darcy himself, gathered together to talk, play a game of cards, or read in quiet, though the high stakes games also attracted many of less savory habits. For Darcy, those events held little interest. But the club was a place to have a bite to eat and sit and chat with the few men he considered good friends.
It was unfortunate, he considered as he sat with Bingley speaking about
matters of little significance, that his position in society meant he had many acquaintances, the majority of whom he would prefer to keep at a distance. As they spoke together, several gentlemen, some known to him but little, stopped by for a few words or a jest. Most comments were innocuous. Some were improper. One, in particular, raised the hair on the back of his neck.
“Darcy,” greeted a man by the name of Marshal, a slight acquaintance Darcy wished he did not have at all. Then he turned to Bingley and greeted him. Darcy knew that Bingley’s acquaintance with him was even less than his own.
The gentleman made small talk for a few moments, though his distracted air told Darcy he had something else of which he wished to speak. That supposition was borne out when a few moments later, he made a most unpalatable observation.
“As I recall, you have a young lady staying with you at present.” Marshal’s offhand tone Darcy divined as false.
“I have two young ladies staying with me at present,” replied Bingley. His friend, Darcy noted, displayed no warmth, for he knew of Marshal’s reputation as well as Darcy did himself.
“Yes, I remember,” was the man’s smooth reply. “As your sister has already made her lack of interest in anyone other than Darcy clear,” the man smirked at Darcy, who ground his teeth, “you cannot suppose I was talking of her. The other young miss is your wife’s sister, is she not?”
“She is,” confirmed Bingley. “We are hosting her until the end of the season.”
“Damn fine-looking woman,” said Marshal, a gleam in his eye that Darcy did not like. “I saw her and your wife the other day shopping on Bond Street. Speaking with you, old boy.”
This last he said to Darcy, who acknowledged the truth of his statement but said nothing else. When Bingley made no more than a vague comment, Marshal continued.
“I hope to see you at other functions, for I have a great desire to become known to your ward. Perhaps you will attend the Armitage ball later this week?”