by Jann Rowland
“Lizzy!” cried Lydia. “Must you speak of such a thing in front of all Mr. Wickham’s friends?”
“It seems I must,” replied Elizabeth, fixing her sister with an implacable glare. “You may speak with any of the other officers you like, but if you persist in addressing Mr. Wickham, we shall depart at once, and we will not return.”
When Lydia stared at Elizabeth, not certain what to say, Elizabeth delivered the coup de grâce. “You may choose for yourself what you wish. You may visit with the rest of the officers for the time we are here and partake in their society. Or if you insist on defying father, we may depart now and not see them again at all.”
It was clear to Elizabeth that Lydia was sizing her up, trying to determine if Elizabeth would enforce her threats. She did not appear to like what she found, for she grimaced and reached back for the chair behind her, sitting with little grace near several of the other officers. For a moment, not a word was spoken.
“Excuse me, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Denny, “but I had understood Wickham to be one of your favorites.”
Elizabeth heard the questioning quality in his voice, and she also felt the heat of Mr. Wickham’s gaze upon her. Idly, Elizabeth wondered if the man had debts of honor amongst the other men, and to what extent they were if he did. She realized she had the power to make the man’s life very uncomfortable based on what she said here and now.
However, she had no interest in anything he did. The other officers would do best to discover the character of their colleague themselves—it was not her place to slander every officer who did not behave the way he should.
“My feelings concerning Mr. Wickham are not at issue, are they, Mr. Denny?” asked she, deflecting the question. “My father has stated his wishes. I am simply bound to obey him.”
“And what does he have against Wickham?” asked Sanderson.
“No doubt he has been poisoned against Wickham by that Darcy fellow,” added another officer Elizabeth did not know well.
A murmur of agreement rumbled through the men, and Elizabeth specifically noticed that Mr. Wickham was smiling beatifically at them. Underneath, however, there was more than a hint of the hard anger which she had seen during their discussion on the country path in Hertfordshire.
“I cannot speculate,” said Elizabeth, shaking her head. “I will tell you this, though: you should, perhaps, investigate both sides of a story before you pass judgment. And yes, I realize that I am as much at fault in this instance as anyone.”
“What have you learned?” asked one of the men.
“I will say nothing further,” replied Elizabeth, declining the opportunity to defame Mr. Wickham. “My refusal to speak, I will note, is more than Mr. Wickham allowed Mr. Darcy.
“But my sisters and I will obey my father’s decrees. Mr. Wickham is welcome to come and go as he chooses, but we will not greet him.”
And with those words, Elizabeth sat. For some moments, no one said anything, so shocked were they by what they had just heard. Slowly, conversation began again, though it was muted, the discussions hushed. There were some surreptitious glances in Elizabeth’s direction, and Elizabeth could feel the weight of Mr. Wickham’s glare upon her, but she paid him no notice.
“Are you certain that was wise, Lizzy?” asked Jane.
“You must have seen Lydia’s smugness,” replied Elizabeth, shooting a disgusted look at her youngest sister. “Though I might take great pleasure in reporting Lydia’s behaviour back to Papa and avoiding the officers altogether, this will offer her a chance to obey father’s commands. If she persists, we will simply refuse to come again.”
Though still hesitant, Jane agreed. They spent an uncomfortable ten minutes with the company, watching the others speak in low tones around them. The only one who appeared brave enough to approach them was Captain Carter. After several moments of watching them, he approached.
“Can I assume that your father accuses Mr. Wickham of some misbehavior?” asked he without preamble.
Again, Elizabeth declined to say anything of substance. “My father accuses him of nothing, Captain Carter. He has only decided that it would not be in our best interests to associate with Mr. Wickham. I will say nothing more.”
The man regarded her thoughtfully. “Refusing to speak is not conducive to being believed.”
“I do not care if we are believed and I have made no accusations,” replied Elizabeth. “If you wish for specifics, I would direct you to my father or Mr. Darcy. If you do not wish to apply to them, I will only state that you would do best to form your own opinion about Mr. Wickham. My sisters and I do nothing but obey my father’s decree.”
It seemed that Captain Carter realized he was not about to receive anything further, for he nodded once and bowed. “Then I thank you for whatever you were at liberty to provide. For my part, I will be vigilant with respect to Wickham.”
Then he turned and departed. It was only a few more moments later that the time for the visit had elapsed, and Elizabeth and Jane rose and beckoned their sisters to accompany them. For once Lydia was so subdued that she made no protest—she simply followed them from the room after making her quiet good byes to the officers.
As Elizabeth led them from the room, she noted that Mr. Wickham stood by the door, staring at her, his countenance chiseled from granite, marred only by the slight twitching of his jaw. Elizabeth feigned not to see the man and began to walk past him. But as she was passing, he leaned forward and hissed:
“You should be careful, Miss Bennet. Spreading such rumors around is a perilous business. I would not wish for anything untoward to happen to you or your sisters.”
Though alarmed by the man’s thinly veiled threat, Elizabeth held her head up high, and after looking him full in the eye, she turned her head away and continued to walk past him without pausing. The collective gasp that pursued her from the room allowed her to understand that her action had not gone unnoticed.
The sisters made their way toward the entrance, but they were not able to depart from the townhouse without further drama, as there, speaking with Captain Carter, was the forbidding presence of Colonel Forster. Elizabeth had always thought the man to be congenial, and she had shared many conversations with him in Hertfordshire. But at present, he was not amused, watching them—and Elizabeth in particular—with harsh censure as they approached. By his side, Captain Carter regarded Elizabeth, shooting her a slight grimace, which she took as apology for bringing the colonel into the dispute. Elizabeth appreciated his difficult position, as he was caught before an obviously angry superior officer, knowing he had no choice but to inform him as to what had happened in his wife’s sitting-room.
“Miss Elizabeth,” said the Colonel, peering down his nose at her, “as I told Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, I will not have any of you perpetuating unsubstantiated rumors about one of my officers, especially in my own house.”
Far from being intimidated, Elizabeth regarded the colonel, saying: “Actually, I declined to say anything about Mr. Wickham. I confined my comments to the simple fact that my father has decided that none of us shall speak with him.” Elizabeth turned to Captain Carter. “Is that not true?”
“It is, Colonel Forster,” said the man. “Several of the men asked Miss Elizabeth to explain what her father had against Wickham, and she declined to elaborate.”
A dark look at the captain silenced him, but Elizabeth could easily see that Captain Carter was not happy with the colonel. The colonel himself looked back at Elizabeth and her sisters, his mien disapproving.
“Regardless, to speak as you did in front of all the men was poorly done.”
“I apologize that it had to take place in front of them,” replied Elizabeth, “but I was given little choice. If you wish to blame anyone, then Lydia should bear the fault.” Elizabeth glanced at her sister, who was giving her a rebellious glare. “Lydia knew the stricture and she declined to follow it.”
“Did you need to make such a loud statement?”
&
nbsp; “It was that or allow my father’s wishes to be disobeyed.”
“Miss Elizabeth,” said the colonel, his manner slightly aggrieved, “I am aware that you are a rational creature. You must understand that as commander of this regiment, I am responsible for my men, and I cannot stand for anyone attacking them unjustly. If you are intent upon persisting in this behavior, then I must ask you to cease to visit us.”
“Believe me, Colonel, nothing would give me greater pleasure. If, however, I am barred from your house, then Jane must come, for Lydia and Kitty are not allowed to visit on their own.”
“And I will not come without Lizzy, so your wife will be denied my sisters’ company,” said Jane.
Both sisters ignored the gasps of outrage from Kitty and Lydia in favor of watching the colonel. It was obvious he was surprised by their declaration, but the captain, to his credit, looked at the younger sisters and nodded slowly.
“Colonel Forster,” said Elizabeth, “as long as Mr. Wickham does not approach us, I see no need to curtail our visits, pending, of course, my father’s opinion of today’s events. Regardless of what you think of my father’s reasons for stipulating his daughters’ behavior, he has made his decision, and neither you, nor I, can gainsay him. I will note that Brighton is not Hertfordshire, and my sisters require more supervision here due to the greater dangers, hence our need to accompany them when they leave the townhouse.
“Whether you agree is irrelevant; none of this is any of your concern. I would suggest you speak with Mr. Wickham and ensure he behaves himself. I cannot control his movements, nor would I wish to. We have no objection to his presence when we are visiting your wife, but if he approaches any of us, we will be forced to depart.”
“Perhaps I should have words with Mr. Bennet,” growled Colonel Forster.
“Of course, you are welcome to do so. But we have stated what we expect when we visit. If Mr. Wickham is insistent, we will not come.”
Feeling like she had said enough, Elizabeth gestured to her sisters, and they departed, leaving the colonel watching as they made their way from his house. Within a few moments, they were once again ensconced in the Bennet carriage, on their way back to the townhouse.
“Lizzy!” screeched Lydia when they were in the carriage. “How dare you treat Mr. Wickham that way!”
But it was Jane who responded. “Be silent, Lydia! This is your fault.”
“I can safely say, Lydia,” said Elizabeth, fixing her sister with a pitiless glare, “that if you attempt to speak with Mr. Wickham again, we will not return. And do not think that we have forgotten about your attempt to induce Mrs. Forster to take us to the camp.”
Lydia glared at Elizabeth, but though she made to respond, she apparently thought better of it. It was just as well, for Elizabeth was on the verge of stopping the carriage and throwing her sister from it.
“Papa will hear of your behavior, and I do not doubt he will be less than pleased.”
“I did not know you were so fond of carrying tales to Papa,” spat Lydia.
“He will wish to know,” replied Jane. “You are only sixteen, Lydia. You will obey father, or you will be treated like the child you are.”
By her side, Kitty watched the confrontation with wide eyes, and though she did not say anything, Elizabeth thought she was being impressed with the seriousness of the situation. Hopefully Kitty would learn—the two of them could not grow much worse without causing the entire family havoc.
It seemed like a long carriage ride home, and no words were spoken. One half of those in the carriage sat in righteous indignation, while on the other seat, their youngest sister wallowed in childish petulance.
Chapter XXII
As Elizabeth had expected, Mr. Bennet was not amused with the actions of his youngest daughter, though Kitty largely escaped any similar censure. Elizabeth sat in the room with Jane and her mother while her father berated her younger sister, thinking that it was the least Lydia deserved. Her mother was wide-eyed, perhaps seeing for the first time how willful her youngest could be. It was good that she finally was coming to understand—it was her indulgence of anything Lydia wanted that had fueled the girl’s bad behavior.
“There will be no visits to the colonel’s wife for the rest of the week,” said Mr. Bennet, once his anger had run its course. “After that time, we will take stock again and decide if they may be resumed.”
Mr. Bennet turned to Elizabeth. “Are you willing to return, Lizzy?”
The harsh glare Lydia directed at her told Elizabeth that her sister would be unhappy if she did not answer in the affirmative, but Elizabeth did not care for her sister’s opinion.
“In truth, Papa, I would be quite happy never to see another officer again. Colonel Forster is being unreasonable in the extreme.
“However,” said Elizabeth, speaking over Lydia’s protests, “though I find her silly and possessing no more sense than Lydia, Mrs. Forster is amiable, and the officers, for the most part, are not objectionable. If she behaves herself, I believe I would agree to return occasionally, though assuredly not as much as Lydia wishes it.”
From the anger on Lydia’s countenance, one might have thought Elizabeth had categorically refused to return. Elizabeth only returned the child’s petulance with an unyielding glare of her own.
“Very well,” replied Mr. Bennet. He turned to Lydia, his scowl sending her anger fleeing, leaving a hint of fear in its place, though she still appeared rebellious. “At the end of the week we will once again revisit this matter. If I am convinced that you mean to behave yourself, then the visits will be reinstated, though at Lizzy and Jane’s discretion.
“But let me be rightly understood,” barked he, leaning over and resting his hands on the arm of the chair in which Lydia sat, “if you so much as look at Mr. Wickham with too much eagerness, I will bar you from ever setting foot in Mrs. Forster’s parlor again. This will be at Lizzy and Jane’s discretion—they have full authority to determine whether your behavior is sufficient. I suggest you do not test them again, Lydia, as they have already indicated their preference for not returning. This is your last warning.
“Now, you may go to your room and stay there for the rest of the day. I suggest you take the time to think about your actions. The option to return you to Longbourn with a governess is still on the table.”
Lydia rose and fairly fled the room, though not without directing one more poisonous glance at Elizabeth. The oppressive atmosphere immediately fled with her, though the countenances of those remaining were still grave. Mr. Bennet sat on a nearby chair and put his head in his hand, massaging his temples with weariness.
“I can see I have erred greatly with my youngest,” said he. “Now that I have taken an interest in amending her behavior, I can see that it will be a long and difficult road.”
“Perhaps it will be,” said Elizabeth, “but it must be done. She endangers our respectability with her behavior.”
Mr. Bennet shook his head and then turned his attention on his two daughters, a hint of a smile playing about his mouth. “I thank you, Jane, Lizzy, not only for your fortitude in dealing with your sister and that blackguard Wickham, but also for standing up to Colonel Forster. I cannot imagine what the man is thinking.”
“Perhaps he is only protecting one of his men,” offered Jane.
Mr. Bennet’s smile for his eldest daughter only grew more affectionate. “Dearest Jane, always attempting to think the best of others.” Jane blushed, but her father continued to speak. “Colonel Fitzwilliam is correct. Having heard such accounts of his officer, at the very least, Forster should be wary of the man. That he is determined to ignore our concerns speaks to some deficiency of which I cannot even begin to fathom.”
“Is Mr. Wickham so very bad?” asked Mrs. Bennet, her voice more than a little timorous.
“He is,” replied Mr. Bennet, though not harshly. “He is a debtor, a womanizer, and a debaucher, Mrs. Bennet, and I will not be any more explicit. Lydia, with her headstrong and fe
arless ways, has no defense against the man. Should he wish it, I have no doubt he could convince her to abandon all propriety to the ruination of her family. We must keep her away from him, and all others like him, until we can drum some sense into her head.”
Though hesitant, her mother nodded, before excusing herself from the room. Those left behind were silent for some moments, and Elizabeth considered the truth of her father’s words. If Elizabeth was honest with herself, she knew that she had behaved just as badly in accepting Mr. Wickham’s words without any thought or discernment. She could not think on how blind and prejudiced she had been without a deep sense of shame.
But even so, she would never have fallen to Mr. Wickham’s sibilant whispers, would never have broken propriety for the man, regardless of his silver tongue. And she was certain, from his behavior upon her return to Hertfordshire, that the man had meant to attempt to seduce her at the very least. In that, she possessed a better moral fiber than her sister, who was too caught up in her fun and selfish desires to ever think of the consequences. Lydia needed to be given a better sense of what was acceptable and what was not. But Elizabeth could not fathom how they would ever reach the girl. She simply had no restraint at all.
“Lizzy, Jane,” said her father, and Elizabeth met his gaze. “Do not hesitate to end these visits altogether, if you feel it to be necessary. I will support you in whatever you decide. The most important consideration is to keep Lydia from ruining us all, and if I have to confine her to her room for the entire summer, that is what I shall do.”
“We will, Papa,” said Elizabeth.
“Good.” Her father rose. “Now, if you will excuse me, I will return to my bookroom, for I have much upon which to think.”
And he left. But as he walked away, Elizabeth could not help the impression that her father had aged a decade in only a few moments.