I Met Mr Darcy Via Luton

by Fredrica Edward

  Aside from the rainy days, Lizzy had resumed her morning visits to "Charlotte". Of course, Mrs Bennet had already been advised of her actual destination by Mrs Long–nothing could be kept secret for any duration in such a small town as Meryton. But just as Lizzy had foreseen, her mother had interpreted her actions within the framework of her own schemes. Lizzy was "sly", and the handsome Dr Gregory would do nicely for her.

  A week after leaving Netherfield, Dr Gregory had declared Jane fit, and Mr Bingley had announced the ball for Tuesday week.

  The dinnertime conversation that evening was entirely of the ball: the progress of the dressmaking, purchases to be made in Meryton, which officers the younger girls intended to dance with…

  After the plates had been cleared away in favour of the tea things, their father announced they would shortly be hosting a visitor, much to their mother's consternation. It was, in fact, their cousin Mr Collins, whom they had never met before. The Bennet girls merely knew him by reputation as the odious man who was set to inherit the entailed property of Longbourn.

  Mrs Bennet had immediately declared her intention of snubbing him, but after a hastily convened conference in Mr Bennet's library, she had emphasised the importance of being civil, nay, welcoming, to Mr Collins–their future might depend on it.

  Mr Collins was a clergyman: the Rector of Hunsford in Kent. He was, in fact, on a mission to Hertfordshire, sent thither by his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She had grown rather alarmed by his clumsy attempts to court the younger ladies of his flock, even paying fulsome compliments to girls who were not yet out after Sunday services. After pondering the problem, Lady Catherine had instructed him to write to the Squire of Longbourn and to proceed to Hertfordshire post-haste to select a wife from his cousins, while the curate minded his flock.

  Thus Mr Collins arrived in a Tilbury in the afternoon following Mr Bennet's revelation. At thirty, he was already past his prime, although that had not been very impressive at its apogee. When he descended from the vehicle, he grasped Mr Bennet's outstretched hand, revealing that, despite the mildness of the day, he was sweaty, partly due to the unforgiving parson's black clothing he was wearing, but also due to the thick layer of blubber he had accreted over the years. He took off his round clergyman's hat and performed a bow to the ladies, revealing a comb-over ineffectively hiding a balding pate.

  The ladies curtsied in return, and Mrs Bennet invited him into tea.

  Sitting down to table with his five pretty cousins, he looked as pleased as a fox that had gotten into the hencoop.

  Chapter 14: Mr Wickham

  The astonishment of the sisters continued to grow over the tea table: they had never encountered a more ridiculous man than Mr Collins. Even Mrs Bennet was at a loss over what to think of him.

  Only Mary could view him with any equanimity. She had thought her mother to be wishing for the moon when she expressed her plan for Mary to engage Mr Darcy's interest, piano or no. Mr Collins was a more achievable target. She had always fancied the idea of marrying a clergyman. Granted, he was not the greatest specimen of maleness, but she refused to dwell on such earthy thoughts. His descriptions of Rosings and the Parsonage painted quite an agreeable picture of domestic felicity; and to have the hope of returning to Longbourn as its mistress at sometime in the future was sweet indeed. Mary determinedly set forth to fix his interest.

  Her sisters, on the other hand, wished they were as far away from Mr Collins as possible. The thought of spending a week in close quarters with him filled them with dread. As they sat dipping their biscuits into their tea, Kitty coughed, and Lizzy fought down an urge to scream as another unctuous description of Lady Catherine's manifold beneficence rolled from his tongue.

  "Ribbons!" blurted Lydia.

  There was a silence as they all looked at her.

  "I must have some coquelicot ribbons for my ball dress! They will match the officers' uniforms!"

  "Yes!" corroborated Lizzy. "What an interesting idea! White muslin with coquelicot ribbons…"

  "Shall we walk into town, then?" said Jane, getting up with a smile.

  Thus the sisters set off to walk to the Meryton shops. If the majority of the Bennet ladies had hoped to shake Mr Collins off, they were sadly mistaken; he volunteered to accompany them.

  In pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on that of his cousins, their time passed 'til they entered Meryton.

  Upon reaching the shops, the younger girls were gratified to recognise one of the officers, Mr Denny, strolling along in the company of another well-dressed gentleman they had not seen before. Tossing decorum aside, they squealed their delight and hastened to the other side of the road to greet them.

  For her part, Lizzy was pleased to see Charlotte hurrying towards her with a rush basket on one arm–she was likely on her way to the butcher's. Lizzy introduced Mr Collins to her friend before grasping Charlotte's arm, whereupon they crossed the road together to join Kitty and Lydia on the other side. Jane, Mary, and Mr Collins brought up the rear.

  Mr Denny entreated permission to introduce his friend, Mr Wickham, who had returned with him the day before from town and, he was happy to say, accepted a commission in their corps.

  Mr Wickham was an exceptionally fine fellow, being tall, very good-looking and charming. He wanted only regimentals to make him irresistible. When he smiled and complimented each of the ladies in turn, Kitty turned pink; and Lydia, bouncing up and down, suggested they all take a stroll along the street together to further their acquaintance. She had temporarily forgotten about her need for ribbons.

  At that point, Charlotte tugged silently at Lizzy's sleeve, requesting her company to the butcher's.

  Once they had got out of earshot of the rest of the party, Lizzy declared to her friend: "Mr Wickham is a very charming gentleman."

  "Smooth, too smooth," said Charlotte. Handsome men did not pay Charlotte compliments, so Mr Wickham's attempt to flatter her had been as water off a duck's back.

  Lizzy considered this for a moment before accepting the justice of her friend's censure.

  "If he was any smoother," said Lizzy, starting their old game, "I could use him as rubbing liniment."

  Charlotte blushed. "Lizzy don't go putting ideas into my head!"

  They both giggled.

  "Your turn," said Lizzy.

  "If he was any smoother…" said Charlotte, "I could skate on him at Christmas!"

  Lizzy rolled her eyes.

  "No, no! I have a better one!" said Charlotte. "If he was any smoother, I could see my reflection in him!"

  They giggled again.

  Having selected some chops for the Lucases' dinner, Charlotte and Lizzy wended their way back to the rest of the group.

  The whole party were still standing and talking together very agreeably when the sound of horses drew their notice, and Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley were seen riding down the street. On distinguishing the ladies of the group, the two gentlemen came directly towards them and began the usual civilities. Bingley was the principal spokesman, and Miss Bennet the principal object. Mr Darcy was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on Elizabeth when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of the stranger; and Elizabeth, happening to see the countenance of both as they looked at each other, was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red. Mr Wickham, after a few moments, touched his hat–a salutation that Mr Darcy just deigned to return.

  What could be the meaning of it? It was impossible to imagine; it was impossible not to long to know.

  In another minute, Mr Bingley, without seeming to have noticed what passed, took his leave and rode on with his friend.

  Mr Denny and Mr Wickham walked with the young ladies to the door of the haberdashers, and then made their bows, in spite of Miss Lydia's pressing entreaties that they should come in and help choose the ribbons.

  Behind them, Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley continued onto Netherfield in what appeared to be companionable silen
ce. But their minds were of a very different temper. Bingley was amiably engaged in daydreaming of dancing with Miss Bennet at the Netherfield Ball. Mr Darcy silently fumed.

  Wickham, that slimy bastard! It makes my trip to Hertfordshire complete in an ironically circular way.

  Darcy had hesitated to return to Elizabeth Bennet's environs, but had caved in to Bingley's entreaties because of his wish to escape Georgiana's situation, and now the villain of that episode had made his 'holiday' complete by arriving on the scene himself. Perfect!

  Maybe he should have let his cousin Richard throttle Wickham on a dark night as he had wished…

  Chapter 15: Mrs Long's card party

  The young girls were ecstatic to arrive home from Meryton with the ribbons and a gratifying invitation. They had met Mrs Long in the haberdashers, whence they had been invited to a card party at her house tomorrow evening "just for the young people".

  Denny and Sanderson were billeted with Mrs Long, and it happened that Mr Wickham had been induced to join them. The somewhat impromptu card party had been got up for the entertainment of Mrs Long's boarders.

  Mr Collins, having been present in the haberdashery, was gratified to be included in the invitation, and thus the Bennet coach conveyed him and his five cousins at a suitable hour to Meryton.

  Unfortunately, Charlotte, who also received an invitation, was unable to attend: Lady Lucas was currently having a tiff with Mrs Long about a round of cheese she had ordered at the grocer's. This had been mistakenly delivered to Mrs Long, but by the time the grocer had discovered his error, the cheese was all eat up, and Lady Lucas had been obliged to order another.

  The beginning of the evening was not auspicious for Elizabeth, as Mr Collins, noticing Mr Bingley's attentions to Jane at Meryton, had transferred his attentions to her. She had to endure him as a partner at whist, playing against Mrs Long and Mary. The other table was much more merrily employed with a very loud game of Speculation. Lydia was quite boisterous and seemed to constantly flutter around the handsome Mr Wickham. When Lizzy glared at Jane to encourage her to rein Lydia in, she was met with an understanding smile from Mr Wickham, indicating he bore it all with good grace. She gave a small smile in return.

  After ignominiously losing their game of whist to Mrs Long and Mary, Elizabeth thankfully swapped places with Jane. The other table had started on a game of lottery tickets, and when the game had caught Lydia's attention, Mr Wickham offered to get Miss Elizabeth a cup of tea.

  Bringing this back to a little side-table slightly removed from the game, he was at leisure to talk to Elizabeth, and she was very willing to hear him, though what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be told–the history of his acquaintance with Mr Darcy. She dared not even mention that gentleman. Her curiosity, however, was unexpectedly relieved. Mr Wickham began the subject himself, enquiring how far Netherfield was from Meryton; and, after receiving her answer, asking in a hesitating manner how long Mr Darcy had been staying there.

  "About a month," said Elizabeth; and then, unwilling to let the subject drop, added, "He is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I understand."

  "Yes," replied Mr Wickham; "his estate there is a noble one, a clear ten thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that head than myself, for I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from my infancy."

  Elizabeth could not but look surprised.

  "You may well be surprised, Miss Bennet, at such an assertion, after seeing, as you probably might, the very cold manner of our meeting yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr Darcy?"

  "As much as I ever wish to be," cried Elizabeth very warmly. "I have spent three days in the same house with him, and I think him very disagreeable. He is not at all liked in Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted with his pride. You will not find him favourably spoken of by anyone."

  "His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed and the truest friend I ever had. I can never be in company with the younger Mr Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a thousand memories."

  Mr Wickham had all Elizabeth's attention.

  "My father," he continued, "was a highly respected attorney, but he gave up everything to be of use to the late Mr Darcy and devoted all his time to the care of the Pemberley estate. He was most highly esteemed by Mr Darcy, and they were great friends, to the extent that old Mr Darcy stood as my godfather when I was christened."

  "A military life is not what I was intended for; the church ought to have been my profession, and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased young Mr Darcy to honour his father's wishes."

  "Indeed!"

  "Yes–the late Mr Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. He was a most attentive godfather and excessively attached to me. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given elsewhere."

  "Good heavens!" cried Elizabeth; "but how could that be? How could his will be disregarded? Why did you not seek legal redress?"

  "There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have doubted the intention, but Mr Darcy chose to doubt it."

  "This is quite shocking! I thought him haughty and bad tempered, but had no idea he could be so callous. He deserves to be publicly disgraced."

  "Some time or other he will be, but it shall not be by me. 'Til I can forget his father, I can never defy or expose him."

  But you just have, thought Elizabeth, who had a sharp wit for irony. Then she remembered Charlotte's caution about Mr Wickham.

  "But what," said she, after a pause, "can have been his motive? What can have induced him to behave so cruelly?"

  "A thorough, determined dislike of me–a dislike which I cannot but attribute in some measure to jealousy. Darcy and I played together constantly as children and had the same tutors. Had the late Mr Darcy liked me less, his son might have borne with me better; but his father's uncommon attachment to me irritated him, I believe, very early in life. He has not a temper to bear any sort of competition."

  "When I was seven, my father sickened and died within half a year. Old Mr Darcy vowed at my father's deathbed to look after me in his stead. This vow he honoured in his lifetime, but three years later he was himself killed in a carriage accident with his wife."

  "Oh!" exclaimed Elizabeth, not knowing what to say.

  Mr Wickham was not sure if the exclamation was in sympathy with him or Mr Darcy, so he hurried on.

  "Then I was banished from the Pemberley estate and sent to school in the south. I did not see Darcy again until Cambridge. Were it not for his actions, I could now be happily settled at a snug parsonage, with a wife and children at my feet."

  The tête-à-tête was interrupted when Mrs Long called them to supper and Elizabeth had no further chance to question Mr Wickham.

  Elizabeth departed the soirée with her head in a whirl. She could think of nothing but of Mr Wickham, and of what he had told her, all the way home. Her introspection went unnoticed on the journey because neither Lydia nor Mr Collins was once silent. Lydia talked incessantly of lottery tickets, of the fish she had lost and the fish she had won; and Mr Collins, in describing the civility of Mr and Mrs Long, protesting that he did not in the least regard his losses at whist, enumerating all the dishes at supper, and repeatedly fearing that he crowded his cousins, had more to say than he could well manage before the carriage stopped at Longbourn House.

  Chapter 16: The Ball

  Darcy had been dreading the Netherfield Ball. He hated the social functions that constituted the marriage mart: avoided free-for-alls like Almack’s at all costs; only attended private balls when his Aunt Evelina, Lady Fitzwilliam, insisted on his presence; typically arrived late, and left after an hour. But he could hardly avoid the Netherfield Ball
when he was staying as a guest in the house; and, unfortunately, this meant standing up for the first set with Miss Caroline Bingley.

  And what of that other lady who disturbed his mind? He had decided to ask Miss Elizabeth for one dance. He felt that their truce demanded that much, given his behaviour at the Meryton Assembly and the Lucases's soirée.

  He had gritted his teeth when Caroline had pulled him into the receiving line beside her, but dutifully nodded and greeted the inhabitants of Meryton, letting the Bingleys do the real work.

  Dr Gregory had arrived with the Lucases, escorting Charlotte–so far, so good, thought Darcy.

  The Bennet carriage was one of the last to arrive. Darcy pretended to examine his perfectly manicured nails as the younger daughters tumbled out of the carriage. Good Lord! Miss Lydia was wearing a white muslin dress decorated with red ribbons.

  Lydia immediately ran to greet Colonel Forster and his wife, who were approaching the receiving line.

  "Do you like my dress sir? I made it specially for the officers!" Lydia coquetted.

  Colonel Forster laughed and kissed her hand.

  Darcy continued to shake the hands of guests as his eyes flicked back to the carriage. The three elder girls had descended the steps, but were hanging back as their mother fussed over them. Mr Bennet and the parson he had seen in Meryton descended from the box.