by Jann Rowland
“Speaking of interesting characters, I am wondering about something. I understand you knew Mr. Wickham before he joined the regiment.”
The slow smile which began to spread over his face was wiped away by her reference to Mr. Wickham. It was all Elizabeth could do to refrain from laughing at him. As it was, she waited with guileless patience while Mr. Denny shot a glance at Mr. Wickham, who was, Elizabeth noted, once again with Jane, Mary looking on with some disapproval.
“Ah yes,” said Mr. Denny, his pique not as well concealed as he might have liked. “Wickham is always popular with the ladies. I have seen him paying considerable attention to your elder sister of late.”
Turning back to Elizabeth, he added: “I can see the appeal. Miss Bennet is a fine woman.”
“I cannot agree more,” said Elizabeth, clenching her teeth to avoid slapping him. “But I do not think Jane favors him. Mr. Wickham is charming, to be sure, but his prospects are poor, I think. A man such as he is unlikely to touch Jane’s heart.
“Of more interest is that Mr. Wickham does not speak of himself. As his friend, I am certain you must know something of him?”
“I could not bear tales, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Denny.
“Nor do I ask you to,” was Elizabeth’s easy reply. “The purpose of my query is not to learn some gossip or anything of an improper nature. I wish to understand more of him—his family, connections, history. The usual information only.”
Mr. Denny smiled, a quality inherent in it that Elizabeth could not like. “I understand and know why you would wish to have this information. Your application is in vain, however, as I know little of Wickham before I made his acquaintance. It seems he has been as circumspect in speaking of himself with me as he has been with you.”
Then Mr. Denny bowed and moved away, indicating the end of their conversation. Elizabeth watched him go, wondering how to interpret his words. While she was thus engaged thinking of the matter, Charlotte approached her, fixing her with a questioning look.
“What was that about, Lizzy?” asked she.
“Merely attempting to learn more of Mr. Wickham,” said Elizabeth with an absence of mind.
“I have noticed his attentions toward Jane. Do you suspect him?”
“There is something smooth about him, something which suggests his interest in Jane is more about Longbourn than Jane herself.”
“You suspect him of being mercenary.”
“Do you not?” asked Elizabeth, turning her attention to her friend.
Charlotte sighed. “He does seem to be inordinately interested in her.”
“Yes, he is. He displays no care for her feelings, for Jane does not respond to him. In fact, I have been speaking for her all evening, and yet he continues to address her regardless of what I say. Furthermore, I have thought he has become more impatient with me throughout the evening as if I have interrupted his conquest. No, Charlotte, I do not trust the man in the slightest.”
“Will you inform your father?”
Upon considering it for a moment, Elizabeth nodded slowly. “It seems likely to me that Papa has already noted Mr. Wickham’s interest. But perhaps it would be best if I did. First, however, I wish to know Jane’s feelings. While she does not respond to his overtures, she is as withdrawn as always, and I do not know if she feels threatened or does not wish to encourage him.”
“If I know Jane at all,” said Charlotte with a laugh, “it is the latter. When does Jane ever attribute anything other than the best motives in anyone she meets?
Elizabeth could not help but join her, regardless of the strain of the evening. “I cannot say you are incorrect.”
“For what it is worth, I will assist you in keeping him from Jane’s sole company. We do not wish her to be taken in by a man of poor character.”
“Thank you, Charlotte,” said Elizabeth. “You are a good friend.”
When Elizabeth returned to Mary’s side, she noted that Mr. Wickham had moved on, and Jane was now sitting by her mother, speaking with some of the other ladies. What Mr. Wickham thought of her present circumstance Elizabeth could not say, for he appeared to have focused on his new companions. But the frequent glances he cast in Jane’s direction spoke to his interest.
“Did Mr. Wickham behave?” asked Elizabeth of Mary.
Mary turned to Elizabeth, her gaze curious. “Did you expect him to be the opposite?”
“I do not know what to expect of Mr. Wickham. The man is charming, winsome, and strikes me as utterly false. You must have noted his displeasure as I stayed close to Jane this evening.”
“It seemed curious to me you would not leave Jane’s side,” said Mary, her eyes finding Mr. Wickham. As Elizabeth was also watching the man, she noted when his eyes flicked to Jane once, then back on his companions, and then once again only a few moments later. The frown it prompted in Mary informed Elizabeth her sister had seen it too.
“Is he a fortune hunter?”
“He shows every indication of it. Given Charlotte’s testimony, he knows of Jane’s position as our father’s heir. As she is the one he is determined to entice, it seems suspicious, does it not?”
“It does,” said Mary. “Though it could mean nothing more than inclination.”
“It would if he did not keep watching her, or if his interest was not so blatant. The man is too polished by half, his manners seem calculated to please. I have little trust in him, and Jane is incapable of warning him away herself.”
Mary nodded. “If I may be of any assistance, I will do it. We can keep him away from her together.”
“Thank you, Mary. Tomorrow I will speak with Jane.”
With a nod, Mary moved away, leaving Elizabeth to her thoughts, which were filled with no cordial feelings toward Mr. Wickham. Though Elizabeth knew she might be mistaken concerning the gentleman, she had learned to trust her instincts. And they were screaming at her to be wary of this man who portrayed himself as being without flaw.
Chapter IV
Jane Bennet was a woman eager to ascribe the best of every virtue to everyone. Elizabeth had always known this about her sister. It was a mark of Jane’s angelic nature that she was mild and trusting, forgiving and thoughtful. Everyone who knew her considered Jane to be as good a woman as had ever breathed.
Such a trusting nature, however, opened her up to being deceived, to an unscrupulous character taking advantage of her and using her for their own purposes. Though there were few in Meryton to whom Elizabeth might have attributed such tendencies, those who were not as well-known were a concern. That was not to say Jane was incapable of reason or discernment—Elizabeth possessed the highest confidence in her sister’s intelligence. However, when a woman’s first instinct was to trust, the possibility existed for harm, for she might not realize the truth until it was too late.
In herself, Elizabeth knew the opposite problem existed—or perhaps it was not correct to suggest she had the opposite problem, for Elizabeth was not possessed of a suspicious character. Even so, Elizabeth was capable of taking care in a person’s company and not trusting them until they had proven themselves. She was something of a cynic, more prone to expecting the worst of those she met, and in that respect, Elizabeth was the diametric opposite of her sister.
Thus, when Elizabeth determined to approach Jane, she hoped she could persuade her sister to her point of view. Jane had been quiet enough in Mr. Wickham’s presence that it did not seem improbable she would listen. Then again, Elizabeth had seen her sister in the company of men who professed an interest in her when she did not return the sentiment, and in those times, Jane’s usual means of informing them of her disinterest was avoidance. It was likely Jane already thought she was doing enough to dissuade the gentleman.
But Jane had never faced a suitor as determined as Mr. Wickham seemed to be. Even Mr. Harrington, the son of their neighbor to the southwest, who obviously had his eye on uniting the two estates under his future ownership, had not persisted
when it became clear Jane had no interest in him. Mr. Wickham showed all the signs of a willful misunderstanding of Jane’s indifference.
That morning, Elizabeth awoke early as was her habit and departed for her constitutional, returning before most of the rest of the house arose from their beds. Though Jane was not an early riser, neither was she usually abed late. It was, therefore, at breakfast when they met for the first time that day, and after that Elizabeth arranged tête-à-tête with her sister.
“I wished to speak to you about Mr. Wickham, Jane,” said Elizabeth without preamble. She had learned through experience it was often best to be direct with her concerns.
“Mr. Wickham?” asked Jane with some surprise. “What of him? Surely you do not suspect me of being partial to Mr. Wickham.”
“No, I do not. I have seen enough of your reticence with him in company to know you are in no danger of that.”
Jane frowned with confusion. “Then what is your concern? Once Mr. Wickham understands my disinclination for his company, he will leave me be.”
“Do you truly believe that? After his performance last night, I cannot imagine that Mr. Wickham will be content with rejection.”
“I do not understand.”
Suppressing a huff of annoyance at Jane’s blindness, Elizabeth essayed to speak rationally, but with the firmness of her conviction. “Did you not witness the same as I, Jane? Mr. Wickham spent the evening continually returning to your company, and he was not at all deterred by your refusal to respond to his overtures. Did you not also see him becoming more frustrated with my interference as the night wore on?”
“It did not seem to me like you were interfering, Lizzy. We often stand together at society events.”
“Of course, we do,” said Elizabeth. “But Mr. Wickham has not been here long enough to know our habits. And for your information, I was interfering with Mr. Wickham’s efforts, for his motives were clear.”
“How could you suspect him so quickly?”
“By observing him, Jane.” Elizabeth grasped her sister’s hand and squeezed it with affection. “Mr. Wickham is a man with wooing on his mind, and none of the other ladies of the neighborhood are good enough for him, for he is after Longbourn. For me, he had no more than a few glib words, even though I was the one who continued to respond to him in your stead. Furthermore, he began to become more annoyed with me as the night wore on. When I left you late in the evening and Mary stood beside you, she reported that his wish for her absence was beyond dispute.”
“Really, Lizzy,” said Jane, a hint of exasperation creeping into her voice, “there is no need to concern yourself for Mr. Wickham or for me. I have no interest in him, and he is just a kind young man coming to know the neighborhood.”
“I am not as confident as you, Jane. Please, Jane, trust me and take care.”
A fond smile came over Jane’s countenance and she leaned forward to embrace Elizabeth. “My fierce and protective sister. You do take prodigious care of us, Lizzy, and we all appreciate your determination.
“In this instance, you need not concern yourself for my wellbeing, for I have no intention of opening myself to Mr. Wickham’s machinations if he has them. On the contrary—I will not let down my guard enough for Mr. Wickham—or any other man—to take advantage of me.”
“That is good,” replied Elizabeth. “It is all I wish. You are an eligible woman now—”
“As you have told me many times!”
Elizabeth smiled. “So I have. Please take care to avoid opening yourself to predators looking to get an estate.”
“I shall.”
Then Jane embraced Elizabeth once more and departed. And with that, Elizabeth was forced to be content.
When the same situation kept playing out in subsequent functions, Elizabeth knew she should inform her father of her suspicions. Jane, dear that she was, would not see the danger until it was too late, though Elizabeth had informed her more than once of what she thought she could see in Mr. Wickham’s manners. As the head of the family and one of the leading gentlemen in the neighborhood, Mr. Bennet was in a better position to counter anything the officer might try. At least, Elizabeth hoped he would—sometimes Mr. Bennet tended to laugh off matters as if they were of no importance. Elizabeth hoped this would not be one of those times.
As Elizabeth explained matters from her perspective to her father, Mr. Bennet sat and listened with all the intensity Elizabeth might have hoped. Then, when she finished her recitation, he sat back in his chair and considered the matter for a few moments. Regardless of the gravity of what she had just related to him, Elizabeth was unsurprised when his first inclination was to tease her.
“Are you certain this is not jealousy of your sister speaking?” asked Mr. Bennet with a wink. “Your own actions have not been opaque, Lizzy. More than once these past days I have seen you attempt to draw Mr. Wickham’s attention away from your sister.”
Gazing skyward for a moment, Elizabeth turned a stern glare back on her father. “Do you think for a moment I would begrudge any measure of happiness Jane might obtain? Please do not make light of this, Papa, for I am in earnest.”
Mr. Bennet chuckled and shook his head. “The genuine nature of your concern is not hidden. I will own, however, that I wonder, at times. Though Jane is the elder, you are next to her in age and, if I am to be honest, perhaps the better choice to inherit. It would be understandable if there were times when you resented your sister’s good fortune.”
“Why should I resent it? And why would you say I am better suited to inherit Longbourn?”
“Because,” replied Mr. Bennet, his manner becoming earnest, “it is nothing more than the truth. Should I pass away tomorrow, it is you who will take over the estate and its management—not Jane. Your sister is not lacking in ability, but I cannot imagine her collecting rents or negotiating with the other landowners. With you managing matters, I do not doubt you would scold the tenants into harmony and browbeat our neighbors into seeing matters your way. You have taken some interest in how to manage the estate, and would do better than I, should you be forced to take the helm.”
Elizabeth had not considered it that way, but she knew her father was correct. Jane would make a poor master of the estate, though she would make an excellent mistress. Shaking her head, Elizabeth banished those thoughts, turning her attention back on her father, curious, in spite of herself.
“There is no room in my heart for envy, Papa. How could there be? Jane is everything good, deserving of every good thing she receives. Having said that, I am curious—if you think I should inherit, why did you not leave the estate to me? Jane would not have protested it. It is more likely she would have understood and supported it.”
“It crossed my mind, I assure you,” confessed Mr. Bennet. “There were several reasons for it. The first was that it did not seem right to me to pass Jane over—she is the eldest, and by custom, she should inherit. I also knew you would come to her aid if required. It also seems to me that Jane is the most likely among you to choose an amiable man who would not make any remaining daughters feel unwelcome when I am gone.
“The fact of the matter is I can put all the legal requirements into effect with the next master. But if he takes it into his head, he can make life miserable for any daughters of mine who remain at home. A good man would not do this, and I judge it most likely that is the kind of man who would suit her.”
“Then what of Mr. Wickham?” asked Elizabeth. “Though I asked after him, particularly to Mr. Denny, no one seems to know much of him, and his behavior in importuning Jane is reason to consider him unsuitable.”
Mr. Bennet considered Elizabeth for a moment, then essayed to make a response. “You know I have the highest opinion of your intelligence and discernment, Lizzy. But in this instance, I wonder if you are seeing something which does not exist.”
Holding up his hand to forestall Elizabeth’s response, Mr. Bennet said: “It speaks well of your character that
you take such prodigious care of your sister. Jane is not insensible, Lizzy. She is a clever and capable young woman, and I dare say she is well able to detect a fortune hunter.”
“Of course, she is,” said Elizabeth. “It has never been my intention to disagree. The issue is not Jane’s discernment, rather her perception of others. You know Jane thinks the best of others and is incapable of seeing an ulterior motive in anyone’s actions. What I have seen of Mr. Wickham tells me he is capable of less than proper behavior if he thinks his charm is not sufficient to achieve his ends.”
Mr. Bennet sighed and sat back again. “It seems you are determined.”
“Determined to protect Jane,” replied Elizabeth. “I acknowledge I may be seeing more than exists. Can there be any harm in caution? Jane will not behave and act improperly but wonder if Mr. Wickham will.”
“There is little I can do when the man has done nothing to deserve censure,” said Mr. Bennet. Again he held up his hand to negate her reply. “What I can do is watch him and ensure he does not step beyond propriety. If he gives me reason to suspect him I can speak with his commanding officer.”
A tight nod comprised Elizabeth’s response. A part of her wished for something far more concrete than a simple promise of vigilance, but she recognized her father was correct. The colonel would deem it an attack on one of his officers if they should raise the matter with him now.
“Then that will need to be sufficient. There should be no need for me to state that I will remain watchful.”
A laugh was Mr. Bennet’s reply, followed by a jovially spoken: “No need at all!” Then he turned away, grasping a letter which had been laying on the corner of his desk, and addressed Elizabeth again. “This letter will be of interest to you, Lizzy. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, until I acted to end the entail, would have been my future heir. As you are aware, Mr. Collins was never my heir, as his father was still alive when I acted to end the entail.”