by Jann Rowland
“I speak due to sincere concern for your wellbeing,” said that man with a false earnestness. “Darcy is not what he portrays himself to be to the world at large. Not only does he feel himself high and mighty and above all those he meets, but he also misrepresents himself to those with whom he comes in contact. In actuality he is engaged to his cousin and will unite two great estates upon that marriage. However, he often woos young ladies such as yourself, leading them to believe that he intends to make an offer to them. Then, when he has obtained what he wants, he departs, leaving blasted hopes and ruined ladies in his wake.”
“He does,” said Elizabeth, allowing a healthy measure of skepticism to lace her voice. “And you have proof of Mr. Darcy’s unchristian tendencies to prove your assertions.”
“I would hope that you would accept my warning in the manner in which it was offered. There is no reason not to take care in your dealings with him, is there?”
“So you have no proof.”
An injured expression came over Mr. Wickham’s face. “I am afraid that Mr. Darcy’s position in society makes him nigh unassailable, and to those with wealth and consequence, his situation renders him impervious to claims that one such as I might make.”
“Mr. Wickham,” said Elizabeth, deciding it was time to disabuse him of the notion that she would give credence to anything he said, “I suggest you cease this improper slander at once.”
“Is it slander to tell the truth?” objected Mr. Wickham. His manner was all offense, but Elizabeth was certain that it was feigned.
“It is when you have not the means to prove your assertions. Now, please leave the subject and do not importune me again in the future.”
It was at that moment that a truly ugly sneer came over Mr. Wickham’s face, and he leaned forward, prompting Elizabeth to lean back in response.
“Tell me, Miss Bennet, are your sister’s words about you true?”
“I have not the faintest idea of what you speak, sir,” snapped Elizabeth. She rose from her chair, intending to leave him behind altogether.
He rose with her, towering above her as he glared downward, his face twisted with rage.
“I refer to her comments about your past. What secrets are you hiding, Miss Bennet?
“I fear you seem to have this false impression that Darcy has any interest in you at all, though we both know that he considers you to be beneath his notice.” Mr. Wickham paused, and a truly unpleasant leer came over his countenance. “Or perhaps what your sister said was true. If it is, then you and I should find a secluded place to become better . . . acquainted. You will find me to be more of a man than that spineless milksop Darcy.”
Elizabeth gasped in shock. However, outrage quickly took its place, and her hand rose. The sound of her slap to his cheek echoed throughout the room.
“Why, you—” snarled Mr. Wickham, his hand darting out to grasp her wrist.
“What is the meaning of this?” demanded Mr. Phillips as he rushed up to Mr. Wickham. “Unhand my niece at once!”
For the first time, Mr. Wickham appeared to remember that they were not alone in the room, and he paled slightly. He readily let go of her hand, however, and stepped back, as if trying to give the impression that he was not a danger to her.
Elizabeth rubbed her wrist, grateful that her uncle had intervened when he had. Jane rushed over to her, and Elizabeth accepted her embrace gratefully.
“I asked you what you meant by taking hold of my niece, sir,” repeated Mr. Phillips.
“We were merely engaged in a discussion which became a trifle animated.”
It was an obvious attempt to obfuscate, and to say that it had no effect on her uncle was a large understatement. Unfortunately for Mr. Wickham, there was one other in the room who was less than pleased to see what had happened.
“I believe that since Wickham is my officer, I should be the one to take him to task for what has happened.” Colonel Forster stepped forward and motioned to two other officers in the room. “It is your first day in the militia, and already you have a poor start of it. I suppose that what I have heard concerning your dissolute ways is nothing more than the truth after all.
“Jones, Tilney, escort Lieutenant Wickham to the camp, where he is to be confined to quarters. I will speak with him later and determine what to do with him.”
The two officers in question nodded to their commanding officer and escorted Mr. Wickham from the room. Before he left, however, he directed an expression of such poison at Elizabeth that she feared for her safety should he ever catch her alone and unaware.
“Miss Bennet,” said the colonel as he turned toward her with a bow. “Please accept my apologies for the behavior of my officer. You may rest assured that this matter is not closed. When I am finished with Mr. Wickham, he will wish he had never laid eyes upon you. I will also make it clear that he is never to approach you in the future.”
“Thank you, Colonel Forster,” replied Elizabeth with some feeling. “You have always been perfectly gentlemanly, and Mr. Wickham’s actions are not your fault.”
“Perhaps not, Miss Bennet, but he is an officer under my command. The conduct of the men in my regiment reflects on their fellow officers and on me in particular, and I take my responsibilities very seriously, I assure you.”
“Thank you,” was Elizabeth’s quiet reply.
The party broke up soon after that, and Elizabeth stepped into the carriage for the return to Longbourn. She now wished more than ever that she had accepted the Gardiners’ invitation.
The next morning brought Colonel Forster to Longbourn at the earliest visiting hour which could be considered polite. It was only happenstance that Elizabeth was present at all, for she had made it a habit to walk out in the morning. On this morning, however, she had been defeated by a broken bootstrap and had reluctantly given up on her morning constitutional.
The colonel entered the room slowly, his gait uncertain, and it was clear that he was nervous of the reception he was to receive. It bespoke to his good character and the seriousness with which he approached his duties.
In this case, Elizabeth knew his apprehension to be completely unfounded. Even if Elizabeth had not seen the indifference with which the matter had been received by her parents the previous evening—the entire event had been gleefully imparted to them by Lydia upon their arrival home—she knew that she did not rank high enough with her parents to warrant even a small measure of outrage, let alone any decisive action in her defense.
“Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet,” said he as he sat on the edge of a chair in the parlor. “I have come this morning to offer my sincerest apologies to you and Miss Elizabeth,” he nodded in her direction, “for the regrettable incident involving one of my officers last night.”
“Yes, we did hear something happened last night,” replied Mr. Bennet. He sat in his own chair, seemingly relaxed and without any care.
His carefree behavior startled the colonel, and for a moment, the officer was silent with confusion. It could not be said that he was without fortitude, however, as he spoke again a moment later.
“If you have heard, then you know of the appalling nature of Lieutenant Wickham’s behavior last night. To have importuned Miss Elizabeth so improperly was disgraceful and a mark upon the entire regiment. I most humbly beg your pardon for this grievous breach of conduct. I assure you that it will not happen again.”
Deciding that it would be best for her to take charge of the situation, lest her parents completely embarrass her or betray the family’s dysfunction, Elizabeth said, “I thank you, colonel. I must own that his behavior on our first meeting did not inspire confidence, which was only confirmed last evening. I am grateful that you have taken such decisive action to punish him for his misdeeds.”
The colonel smiled at her. “There was nothing else to be done, Miss Bennet. As I indicated last night, I must have discipline, and behavior such as that which you were subjected to cannot be tolerated.” The colonel paused and smiled at the entire
family. “The regiment does not receive nearly so warm a welcome everywhere as we have received here, and the actions of a rogue officer may cause that welcome to be rescinded.”
“And we thank you, Colonel Forster,” said Mr. Bennet, speaking up finally. He was watching the colonel closely, but unless Elizabeth was mistaken, he appeared to be focused on her rather than the colonel. “We cannot have such a man preying on ladies of the area, especially our daughters.”
The colonel replied that it was no trouble, but while he appeared to accept Mr. Bennet’s words at face value, he seemed to be confused by Mr. Bennet’s sudden interest in the conversation. Elizabeth was confused herself, but she decided that it was just another example of her father’s contradictory behavior and put it from her mind.
After only a few more moments, Colonel Forster departed, though not before promising Elizabeth yet again that Mr. Wickham would not be allowed to importune her again. Unfortunately, the inanities of her family only continued from there.
“I am certain that this must all be Elizabeth’s fault,” said Lydia almost as soon as the colonel had left the room. “Mr. Wickham is so charming and obliging; I am certain that he could never have behaved in such a manner without provocation.”
“And you know him well enough to state that after two very short meetings?” challenged Elizabeth in disgust.
“Of course,” said the stupid girl. “Mr. Wickham is far too handsome and congenial to be the miscreant that you seem to be eager to brand him as.”
Elizabeth regarded her sister with no little disdain. “I will have you know, Lydia, that Mr. Wickham suggested that I accompany him to a more secluded location so that we may become better acquainted. And do you know why he made such a heinous suggestion? It is because of your ill-advised comment in the middle of Meryton’s busiest street concerning my past. He seemed to think that I have loose morals based on one stupid comment you made for all to hear. You attempt to portray yourself as a knowledgeable and discerning girl, but it is obvious to anyone with a lick of sense that you are nothing more than a silly little flirt with nothing but fluff in your head!”
All pandemonium broke loose as both Lydia and Mrs. Bennet shot to their feet and simultaneously cried: “How dare you!” and “Do not speak to Lydia that way!”
Elizabeth rose to her own feet to meet them. “I would not have to if you would do your duty and take her in hand yourself!”
“You can have nothing to say to me!” cried her mother. “You are a disobedient and disobliging daughter, and I wish you had never been born!”
“And I wish I had never been born to you!” spat Elizabeth. “You place a great deal of responsibility on my shoulders, mother. I was two years old!”
“Old enough to already be the most disobedient girl who was ever born! Do you take great pleasure in the ruin you have wrought on this family?”
“I hardly think that I have ruined my family through nothing more than my own actions.” Elizabeth paused and gazed at her mother with more contempt than she had ever felt for any other. “I would remind you that whatever is said about me affects all of your other daughters by association. If you do not wish for your precious Lydia’s reputation to ruined, then I suggest you muzzle her, for she cannot seem to hold her tongue on her own. Of course, this presupposes that she will not ruin us all with her wild and willful behavior first.”
Surprisingly, it was not Mrs. Bennet who reacted first. Rather, it was Lydia who let out a screech and flew at Elizabeth with her fingers extended like talons.
“Stop it, all of you!” thundered Mr. Bennet. And with more quickness than Elizabeth would have credited him with, he was on his feet, catching Lydia before she could reach Elizabeth.
“Silence!” shouted he when Lydia kept screaming and trying to reach Elizabeth. Elizabeth just looked on her youngest sister with contempt.
Once a modicum of order had been restored, Mrs. Bennet rounded on her husband, crying, “She is impertinent and rude, Mr. Bennet! And it is because you will not censure her yourself.”
Mr. Bennet merely ignored her inanities as usual and focused his attention on all of them. “I care not what you say to or about each other within the confines of Longbourn—insult each other to your heart’s content. But physical confrontations are forbidden.”
A completely incongruous sternness evident in his demeanor, Mr. Bennet glared at Lydia. “Am I very clear?”
“Yes, sir,” said Lydia sulkily.
“Good. And there is another thing, Lydia,” continued he, a frown of severe displeasure directed at his youngest daughter. “I believe I made it very clear that no one was to speak of Elizabeth or our family’s situation. Is that not so?”
At first, Lydia appeared as if she would refuse to answer, but it was not long before her father’s glare cowed her into allowing that it was so.
“And yet, in your silliness and idiocy, you have blurted out something about which you should have kept silent in the middle of the street where anyone may hear. Regardless of Elizabeth’s past or her position in this family, she is correct about one thing: you are silly and ignorant, and you have not the sense that God gave a sow.”
Lydia gasped and made to defend herself, but Mr. Bennet would not allow her to begin. “From this time forward, nothing is to be said on the subject, and none of our neighbors will be given any reason to gossip about the Bennets. Am I clear?”
For once, Lydia appeared to be listening, and she agreed with her father’s demands with alacrity, as did the rest of her sisters in the room.
“Good. You do not have the sense to understand, so I shall not be explicit about my reasons, but I assure you that much rests upon this. There must be nothing for our neighbors to gossip about. If I hear another word concerning anything which will give anyone to doubt our family’s respectability, you shall be returned to the nursery and will not be allowed back into society until you are thirty.”
Lydia was stricken at her father’s words, but he regarded with a pitiless glare, and she meekly lowered her head.
“Very well. You may now go to your room and regain your composure.”
Without another word, Lydia stalked off, followed closely by Catherine.
Jane, who had been watching the confrontation with an expression of shock and disbelief, turned to Elizabeth, but Elizabeth was too busy watching her father to pay her sister any mind. She was in agreement with her father that the family’s troubles should be kept from society to prevent tongues from wagging, but the words “much rests upon this” confused her. Quite frankly, in all the time she had been at Longbourn, she had not had the impression that Mr. Bennet particularly cared about the state of his family’s reputation.
Unless, of course, he knew something of the talk or gossip in the neighborhood which told him that Elizabeth’s situation was already being spoken of. But that did not make much sense either, as Elizabeth fancied that she would have seen signs of it. People had a way of betraying when they were speaking of a certain person, not only in their judgmental expressions, but also in the way they would suddenly stop speaking when the person drew near. And she had seen none of that behavior.
Thus, her father must have had something else in mind. Unfortunately, Elizabeth could not fathom what it might be, and she decided that she would not concern herself about the matter any longer.
Her father excused himself to go to his study, and Elizabeth went to her room, her mind and heart full of thoughts of her family. In particular, she was absolutely disgusted with her father. Mr. Bennet had taken his improper daughter in hand, but he had unfortunately only done so to the minimum degree required, and he had accomplished it in a most insulting manner. In truth, she pitied Lydia. The child had never been taught proper behavior, and she was on a road to ruination that she did not even understand.
Chapter XII
After the most recent argument, an uneasy peace settled over Longbourn. Though the situation was not comfortable in any sense of the word, Elizabeth thought it t
o be much better than outright hostility between herself and the rest of the family.
That was not to say that the rest of her family ignored her outright. In fact, Elizabeth would have preferred to have been ignored rather than to receive the treatment she was given. The chief instigators were, of course, her mother and her youngest sister. They both took every opportunity to belittle her and make comments designed to provoke and demean her. But since they were both equally careful to say nothing when they were in company—and it was easy to tell when they found it necessary to restrain themselves, as their mouths would often snap shut as they gave a slightly apprehensive glance to Mr. Bennet—Elizabeth decided against any kind of response. Her mother had long made her opinion known, after all, while Lydia’s opinions were so absurd and ill-considered as to make them worth nothing. And while Catherine ostensibly followed her younger sister, as was her wont, there often seem to be a slight uneasiness underneath Catherine’s actions, as though she did not always agree with her more forceful sibling’s opinions.
In those days, Elizabeth began to feel as if she was making a true sisterly connection with Jane, and she tried to speak with her eldest sister whenever possible. These efforts were complicated by her mother’s insistence that Jane have nothing to do with her, but as Jane seemed less and less inclined to follow her mother’s directives as time wore on, Elizabeth often found opportunities to speak with Jane alone. Her impressions of Jane were quickly proving themselves true, and Elizabeth came to understand that her sister was even more angelic than she had initially thought.
But more and more as the days passed, Elizabeth became aware of her attraction to the gentleman from Derbyshire, and as they interacted, she began to believe that the gentleman was not unaffected by her either. Their meetings were not infrequent; Mr. Bingley was a regular visitor to Longbourn and spent an inordinate amount of time in the company of Longbourn’s eldest daughter, and he was often accompanied by his friend. And it was evident that when Mr. Darcy visited, he preferred Elizabeth’s company to that of anyone else. That he had relatively little to say to anyone else offended no one other than Mrs. Bennet, who waxed long and eloquent in her denunciation of the man’s manners.