The Challenge of Entail

by Jann Rowland

  Mary tilted her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

  “I cannot imagine him being a good husband,” replied Elizabeth. “Think of what he said, how he treated us all. Though he seems to be the essence of servility at times, at others he is brimming with arrogance, especially when he spoke to us. Then he informed me I would not be allowed to remain at my home when it became his, all because I championed Jane’s interests. I suspect he would be uncaring of a wife’s feelings and abusive at worst. You cannot consider Mr. Collins eligible.”

  Nodding her head slowly, Mary said: “Yes, I can see your point.”

  “Mary,” said Elizabeth, grasping her sister’s hands and speaking intently, “please do not devalue yourself such as to consider William Collins a good match. You are a gentleman’s daughter, and while none of us will be as blessed as Jane, we will have small fortunes of our own. Do not settle for any man as a husband, as the years of your life may be long should you choose amiss. Instead, search for a man who will suit you, one who will cherish you for the exceptional woman you are. Make him prove he is worthy of you, not the reverse.”

  Though Mary was silent for a moment, Elizabeth was certain her words had found fertile ground, for she was contemplative. When she spoke at length, it was in a voice quiet, yet accepting.

  “You have given me much to think on, Lizzy. I believe I shall retire to my room for a time.”

  Elizabeth squeezed her hands once and allowed her to depart, hoping for her sister’s future. Hope for the future was a precious commodity, and Elizabeth now understood Mary had not possessed it. If their time together and Elizabeth’s words changed Mary’s outlook, she would consider it work well completed.

  It would not be accurate to say Jane was not involved in Elizabeth’s attempts to assist her younger sister, for Jane was a kind soul, one who accepted others without reserve and loved with all her heart. The unfortunate fact was that Jane was immersed in her own struggles, which often consumed her attention, leading her to sequester herself in her room more often. It was, of course, due to the presence of Mr. Wickham and his continual insistence on paying court to Jane. Though Elizabeth advised her sister to tell him with no hint of ambiguity that his actions were not welcome, Jane—dear sweet Jane—did not have it in her speak so forcefully. Thus, she was reduced to enduring him, without the prospect of his attentions ceasing.

  During those days, it hardly seemed two days would pass without the officers visiting Longbourn and imposing themselves on the Bennet family. That, coupled with other events of the area the Bennet family attended and their frequent presence in Meryton, meant it was a rare day when Mr. Wickham was not importuning Jane with his ever-increasing ardency. The rest of his friends in the regiment were clearly in his confidence, for they often went to great lengths to separate the other members of the family from Jane’s side.

  When Elizabeth refused to be corralled into acting the way they wanted, she was often the subject of mirth, which only infuriated her more. She heard them talking on more than one occasion about the futility of her endeavors—they were an insipid bunch, other than the scheming Mr. Wickham.

  “What do you think of Miss Elizabeth’s attempts to come between Wickham and Miss Bennet?” asked Sanderson one day while at Longbourn. The same four officers had once again visited, and as Elizabeth was moving through the room, having spoken to the housekeeper, they were not aware she was behind them.

  Mr. Denny, the man to whom Mr. Sanderson had been speaking, laughed and shook his head. “I have never known Wickham to relinquish that which he wanted. She is a feisty, determined sort of girl to be opposing him in such a manner, but it will all be for naught.”

  “It is unfortunate she has not allowed herself to be distracted by one of us.”

  “Oh, aye,” agreed Mr. Denny, and with the tone of his voice, Elizabeth could fancy she could see the light of lascivious interest in his eyes. “She is a fine piece, is she not? I might almost think Wickham would favor her instead, had she only been as blessed with an estate as her sister.”

  A huff almost escaped Elizabeth’s lips, which would have alerted them to her presence. With a will of iron, she kept it in, though she was quick in moving away from them and back toward her sister, who was, as ever, the focus of Mr. Wickham. But Elizabeth was certain to show a glare to the two gossiping officers when the chance presented itself, and she had all the satisfaction of seeing their confused looks in response.

  Had Mr. Wickham’s attentions comprised nothing more than flattery, Elizabeth might have been content with Jane’s efforts to remain unaffected by him. But as time wore on, she thought the gentleman had become more than a little impatient with her. Why this might be so, Elizabeth could only speculate, but she thought he had rarely had difficulty charming ladies in the past. His pride was such that he could not fathom a young woman being unaffected by his manners.

  This came to a point one day a few days later when he began to show his true character. On this day, Elizabeth had been determined she would not allow any of the other officers to distract her and had stayed steadfast by Jane’s side. The acrimonious looks Mr. Wickham had flashed at her, she had ignored, and instead of interrupting him as she had often done in the past, she contented herself with paying close attention and not allowing the man any time alone with Jane.

  “Do you not think it is a lovely day outside, Miss Bennet?” asked Mr. Wickham. “Perhaps you would enjoy a walk around the beautiful park in which this estate sits. I should be pleased to escort you.”

  “Lizzy is the walker, Mr. Wickham,” replied Jane. “Though I also go out occasionally, I find it rather too cold for me at present.”

  Mr. Wickham regarded her with an unreadable expression for several moments. “In fact, the sun is shining, and the day has a warmth rarely seen at this time of year. I am certain it would do you good. We could take a little time together, while the others continue to entertain your sisters.”

  It had been Elizabeth’s opinion that Mr. Wickham was beginning to lose his subtlety in favor of a more direct approach. Though half a dozen retorts sprang into Elizabeth’s mind at that moment, she remained silent, instead waiting to see how Jane would respond.

  “I am sorry, Mr. Wickham, but I am not inclined to walk.”

  “Then we shall stay inside if that is what you wish.” There was more than a hint of asperity in the man’s voice, and Elizabeth smiled, though she thought the expression had more than a hint of grimness inherent in it. Mr. Wickham noticed and frowned at her.

  “You appear a little out of sorts this morning, Miss Elizabeth. Perhaps you should lie down for a time.”

  “On the contrary, Mr. Wickham,” replied Elizabeth, favoring him with a serene smile which mimicked Jane’s and which she had reason to believe annoyed the officer. “It is rare I suffer from any indisposition. I am well, though I thank you for your solicitous interest in my wellbeing.”

  Mr. Wickham regarded her for a moment, eyes narrowed imperceptibly. “When we were walking here this morning, Denny mentioned he had something of which he wished to inform you. As he is without a conversation partner at present, perhaps you should take the opportunity to approach him.”

  “Mr. Denny may approach me if he wishes. I find myself comfortable where I am.”

  It seemed Mr. Wickham decided trading words with her was fruitless, for he turned his attention back on Jane, and for some time he regaled her with tales of his exploits. Elizabeth thought some of them might even be based on true events, though she was certain they were mostly fabrications. But Jane continued to remain inscrutable, responding only with faint monosyllabic words or with nothing at all. The longer they stood there, the more frustrated Mr. Wickham seemed to become.

  “My word, Miss Bennet!” exclaimed Mr. Wickham. “You should have been there to see it! As the challenged, it was up to me to prove that I was the superior horseman, and I did so, beating him by more than five lengths.” Mr. Wickham leaned in and said in a
low, secretive voice: “Colonel Forster himself has said I have as good a seat as any man in the regiment. As I was trained by the best, I do not think it is any flattery of myself to agree with him.”

  As he did so, Elizabeth saw the man’s gaze fall to Jane’s décolletage, then back up to her face again, the despicable light of the lascivious in his eyes. If he expected her to fall down at his feet and beg him to marry her, however, he would be disappointed, for other than the brief look of revulsion—so fleeting that Elizabeth was uncertain she even saw it—she did not reply. It was then the man’s carefully held mask, began to slip.

  “I declare, Miss Bennet!” said he in a jovial tone, though it was underscored with menace. “You are positively dull today. Why, you have not spoken more than two words together since we arrived.”

  For a change, Jane’s own façade crumbled, and she glared at the man. “On the contrary, Mr. Wickham, I am as I have ever been. I find the company taxing at present.”

  The officer’s eyes glittered. “Ah, cut to the quick! For a man so enamored of a woman to be set down in such a manner, is the cruelest fate. Were you a man, I might demand satisfaction.”

  “But my daughter is not a man, Mr. Wickham,” came the sound of her father’s voice. “Though I have no notion of how you might have mistaken that fact, there it is all the same.”

  “It did not say she was, Mr. Bennet,” replied Mr. Wickham. “But I must urge you to call the apothecary for your daughter, as she seems out of sorts today.”

  Mr. Bennet fixed the militiaman with a thin smile. “What is ailing my daughter is not an ague. Your concern is not required.”

  Then Mr. Bennet looked about the room, noting the presence of the other officers, arching an eyebrow at them. “It is curious, however, that you gentlemen find yourselves in my sitting-room so often. Though I have never been a member of the army myself, I have observed that officers are more often busy with their duties than not. This Colonel Forster must be a lenient man to allow you all such leisure.”

  The meaning of Mr. Bennet’s words was not lost on any of them, though Mr. Wickham attempted to brush them aside with his usual false cheer. “Colonel Forster is an excellent commander! Why, I do not believe I have served under one who is better.”

  “By your own words,” replied Elizabeth, “you joined the militia only a few months ago, Mr. Wickham. Unless I am very much mistaken, I do not believe you have served under any other commanding officer.”

  Surprise did not even begin to describe Mr. Wickham’s response, and for a moment he did not seem to know what to say. That moment passed, however, much too quickly, but before he could open his mouth, one of the other officers spoke.

  “You are correct, Mr. Bennet,” said Chamberlayn, rising and bowing to Mr. Bennet. “There is work to be done, and it is high time we departed.” The rest of the officers rose while Chamberlayn turned to Mrs. Bennet. “Once again, we are overcome by your hospitality, Madam. Thank you, but I believe we should be departing.”

  Mr. Wickham appeared less than pleased to be leaving, but given the other three were arrayed against him, he resigned himself. He could not depart without making one last attempt to pierce Jane’s indifference.

  “Duty calls, Miss Bennet,” said he with a gallant bow, grabbing Jane’s hand before she could pull it away. A lingering kiss he bestowed on its back before she could reclaim it, and a smirk appeared on his countenance. “Until next time. I am already breathlessly anticipating it.”

  The four men took their leave and turned to depart from the sitting-room. Mr. Bennet accompanied them, and given the determined look he was giving them, Elizabeth thought he had something further to say. Thus, she followed them, overhearing the brief instruction he gave them.

  “I trust I will not soon see you at Longbourn again?”

  It was Mr. Wickham who responded, unsurprising to Elizabeth. “You cannot blame us for wishing to be here! There are wonders to be had at your estate, sir, and your hospitality is unmatched in the neighborhood.”

  From where she stood, Elizabeth could see the rest of the officers appearing uncomfortable, this display by their leader even beyond what they could countenance. Though her father’s back was to her, Elizabeth imagined he was not at all pleased by the facile response.

  “Yes, we are pleased by our openness, Mr. Wickham. But believe it must change, for I cannot imagine placing you in a situation where you must be reprimanded by your colonel. Men of the militia must be actively engaged in their professions, and if you spend too much time partaking of my hospitality, you risk censure by your colonel.

  “Do not come again, sirs, for you will find my doors barred against you. If you persist, perhaps we shall discover what your colonel thinks of his men neglecting their duties.”

  Then with a scant bow, Mr. Bennet motioned to the doorway, which Hill was standing beside holding open. The men filed out, quite subdued, followed by Mr. Wickham. For his part, however, he hesitated, glancing at Mr. Bennet and then at Elizabeth beyond, before stalking out the door himself. The sound of it closing behind him was perhaps the most satisfying thing Elizabeth had ever heard.

  When he turned, Mr. Bennet caught sight of Elizabeth, and he smiled. “Perhaps I should pay more attention to my family, Lizzy, for these men seem to be abusing our welcome.”

  “It is my thought,” replied Elizabeth, “that they have attempted to time their visits for when they believe you will be occupied by other matters.”

  “That may be so,” acknowledged Mr. Bennet. “For the next few days, however, I believe I shall stay with you all during morning visiting hours. The warning I just gave them should be enough to keep them out of my house for a few days at least, but it is on my mind that Wickham may choose to misunderstand.”

  Elizabeth considered the matter for a moment. “Will you deny him entrance?”

  “I have said I would. But I will not allow him to leave without informing him of my displeasure. At that point, I might need to have a conversation with his commanding officer.”

  “Yes, I can see that,” replied Elizabeth.

  Her father turned to go to the sitting-room, but Elizabeth, noticing her sister was no longer there, took herself above stairs and knocked on Jane’s door. The invitation came to enter, and Elizabeth did so, noting Jane was laying on her bed, looking up at the ceiling above.

  “How are you, Jane?” asked Elizabeth, approaching her sister’s bed.

  “Weary,” was Jane’s reply. The look of distress in her eyes pierced Elizabeth’s soul. “Can Mr. Wickham not see I do not care for him? Why must he always pester me?”

  “Mr. Wickham is capable of seeing your disinterest, Jane. It is simply that he does not care, for he is intent upon his own selfish desires. You must see, Jane, that he has his eye on Longbourn.”

  “I do,” replied Jane, though she spoke as if unwilling to confess to it. “He has made it quite clear.”

  “Then it would behoove you to refuse to be in his company,” said Elizabeth. “You know it only emboldens him when you do not shoo him away.”

  Jane frowned. “I have made it quite clear I do not welcome his company.”

  “And that has deterred him, has it?”

  The sarcasm in Elizabeth’s voice was, perhaps, a little too much, but Elizabeth was beyond caring. It was for Jane to become the primary protector of her own interests, for Wickham was unmoved by her silence. Jane thought for a moment, then looked at Elizabeth yet again.

  “I suppose you are correct, Lizzy. In the future, I shall remove myself from his company, should he attempt to impose it on me.” Jane paused and then said: “After Mr. Collins’s actions, I find I am wary of what he might attempt.”

  “Good,” replied Elizabeth. “That can only be to your benefit. Perhaps we should stay close to home for the next few days. Papa has told the officers not to return, which should protect us for a time.”

  “That would be no hardship for me,” said Jane.


  “Then it is settled.” Elizabeth leaned forward and kissed her sister’s forehead. “Sleep for a time, Jane. It can only do you good.”

  “I shall.”

  Soon, Elizabeth heard Jane’s breathing even out, then become deeper. Satisfied her beloved sister had found rest and comfort, Elizabeth turned and departed, taking care to close the door quietly. In her mind, she continued to roll the problem of Mr. Wickham about, teasing it this way and that as she attempted to work through it to a solution. Elizabeth was not convinced that Mr. Wickham would surrender—on the contrary, she had every confidence his self-interest would not allow him to yield the field of battle.

  Seeking comfort herself, Elizabeth descended the stairs, following the sounds of Mary’s practice on the pianoforte. Perhaps they could devise a plan between them to help safeguard their sister.

  Chapter X

  As they had discussed, the Bennet sisters spent the next few days close to Longbourn—the furthest they traveled from the house was the back lawn. And for a time, all was well, for there was no sign of the officers. While Elizabeth had thought Mr. Wickham would not obey her father’s instructions, it seemed he had, for the time being, decided not to provoke the estate’s master. Or perhaps his fellow officers had understood the anger they were inciting.

  Whatever the case, they did not come, and for that Elizabeth felt nothing but gratitude. Jane, too, recovered apace from Mr. Wickham’s addresses. Elizabeth was further heartened to see a new wariness about her sister. While she was still open and trusting, whenever anyone made mention of the officers—which was not infrequent, given Kitty and Lydia’s characters—a frown would often come over her, and she would attempt to change the subject.

  This changed, however, with an invitation to their Aunt Phillips’s house for tea and cards one day late that same week. There was some conversation whether to accept or to continue for a few more days in their self-imposed exile.