acquaintances to be met with.” Here, she glanced boldly at Wickham. Darcy wrestled most fervently to hide his displeasure. Elizabeth continued calmly, “What think you of the village, Mr. Darcy?”
“Charming,” he muttered, his answer perfunctory.
“And have you had an opportunity to acquaint yourself with the various establishments, sir?”
“What? No, not well. I have been too much engaged since my arrival to have had that privilege.”
Though Wickham’s eyes appeared to be focused most diligently on the rest of their party, Darcy knew with certainty Wickham was paying very close attention to his conversation with Elizabeth. The master of Pemberley desperately wished to say something—anything—that would communicate an appropriate warning to her in some small way, but he knew it to be impossible under the circumstances. His frustration was extreme. Relief, however, came from a most welcome quarter.
“As it so happens, Mr. Darcy, there is a particular item I was hoping to procure this morning in one of the shoppes, just there, at the end of the street. If you feel you can bear my company, sir, I would be quite willing to assist you in familiarizing yourself with all the attractions Meryton holds.”
Though Elizabeth’s offer took Darcy by surprise, the benefit of such a proposal registered immediately. He tore his gaze from Wickham’s profile long enough to offer her his arm, which she took after a slight hesitation. “Thank you, Miss Bennet,” he said sedately, “I am most obliged to you.”
He led her away from the group at a restrained pace, and Elizabeth nonchalantly pointed out various aspects of the town and certain shoppes.
Darcy offered distracted responses, contemplating how best to address her on the unsavory subject of Wickham. After walking far enough to avoid being overheard, Elizabeth startled him once again by inquiring, in a somewhat direct manner, how long he had been acquainted with Mr. Wickham.
Darcy overlooked her boldness and stated, “I have known him practically my entire life, Miss Bennet. His father was my father’s steward, and a very respectable man. We played together as boys, grew up together on my father’s estate, and, at one time, even looked upon each other almost as brothers.” He paused to observe her startled reaction before blurting out, in spite of his better judgment, “You seem to take an eager interest in that gentleman’s relationship with me, Miss Bennet. Why is that? Is it merely curiosity on your part, or something more?”
“Why, Mr. Darcy, I was concerned only for the gravity of your countenance. It appeared to me even more serious than usual, and I merely thought you could use a diversion. Seeing as you do so enjoy staring out of windows whenever something greatly displeases you, I thought, perhaps, you might appreciate the opportunity to stare
Darcy, who under normal circumstances and with any other lady would have deemed such impertinence offensive, found it, instead—and when coming from
He then cleared his throat and continued, “After the passing of Mr. Wickham’s father, my own excellent father supported him at Cambridge with the intention the church would be his profession, and a valuable family living would be his once it were to fall vacant. After my father’s passing, which was but five years ago, Mr. Wickham professed a desire to study the law. Knowing by that time his habits deemed him quite ill suited for the life of a clergyman, I hoped rather than believed him to be sincere. He requested and was granted the sum of three thousand pounds in lieu of the living…”
If Elizabeth had not known exactly what to expect, Darcy surmised from her shocked expression it certainly was not this. Steadily and with no small degree of increasing agitation, he continued to give her a detailed account of Mr. Wickham’s rather lengthy history of disreputable behavior.
When he came to the events of the previous summer at Ramsgate, however, the pain was still too fresh, and Darcy found his pride would not allow him to utter the name of his beloved sister. Instead, he revealed only the attempted seduction and elopement of an estimable young lady of his acquaintance. At last, he had done.
Elizabeth’s gaze remained on Darcy’s face. She was sickened to think she, who had always prided herself on her abilities of discernment, had been so ready to tease and insult the taciturn man before her—a man whom she had known for many weeks now—in favor of a complete stranger whom she had only just met and was, even now, for the most part, still unknown to her. Wickham’s easy countenance and pleasing manners had, in the mere quarter of an hour she had spoken with him, managed to make quite a favorable impression upon her, but what a mistaken impression she had apparently formed! Elizabeth blushed with mortification. That it should have taken place in the presence of Darcy made her agitation all the more extreme. For some reason she could not quite explain or even fathom, Elizabeth could not abide Darcy thinking any less of her than he already did for having erred so greatly in her judgment of such a man as Mr. Wickham.
Elizabeth’s anxiety was apparent, and Darcy felt all the responsibility of it as he stopped and, in a low voice full of heartfelt concern, said to her, “Miss Bennet, I am sorry, exceedingly sorry if what I have just related has caused you such distress. Please believe me, my purpose in doing so was solely to warn you and your sisters of the very great danger to yourselves from Mr. Wickham’s society. It was not my intention to be malicious or to cause you pain, and I must beg your understanding and hope you will forgive me for having upset you.”
Elizabeth looked away. “No, sir, I am perfectly well, and indeed, you are mistaken. There is nothing to forgive, but I find I must now confess to you how unprepared I was to hear such an infamous account of the same amiable gentleman with whom I have only just become acquainted. I find it almost beyond me to credit such dreadful accusations and such duplicitous behavior, yet, given what I have come to know of your character, and given it is also your intimate history with Mr. Wickham, I fear I must believe you and allow it is true.”
Darcy uttered an audible sigh of relief and ran the back of his hand across his mouth. “Yes,” he said quietly, “it pains me to insist it is true in every particular. Please believe my sincerity, Miss Bennet, when I say there is no one who wishes more than I that Mr. Wickham’s gentlemanly appearance would ever be more than just an appearance.”
By the time Darcy and Elizabeth returned to the rest of their party, Wickham and Denny had since taken their leave. Elizabeth went to Jane and requested they all return home without delay. Jane readily agreed. Bingley, who proclaimed he was not entirely prepared to part with the ladies so soon, begged leave to accompany them back to Longbourn—a proposal that was met with happy acceptance from Jane. Feeling the danger of spending more time than he ought in the disconcerting company of Elizabeth Bennet for one morning, Darcy declined to join them, saying he had some pressing correspondence he had long put off but now found required his immediate attention.
That evening, in the privacy of their room, Elizabeth disclosed to Jane the particulars of her conversation with Darcy. Never wanting to think ill of anyone, Jane insisted Wickham could not possibly be so very bad as Darcy’s account of him made him seem.
“But, Lizzy, are you certain, absolutely certain, he has such designs at this time? Perhaps he has come to regret his past actions and is anxious to reestablish his character in the eyes of the world. He seems to possess such an expression of goodness in his addresses.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, Jane. I would well wish to think as you do, but I cannot help but believe it unlikely. Though Mr. Darcy’s countenance bespoke the most vehement dislike of Mr. Wickham, you did not notice the way Mr. Wickham looked at Mr. Darcy. His expression was one of such derision and insolence. No, I cannot so easily acquit him of the crimes Mr. Darcy has laid at his door. I feel most inclined to believe he is not a man to be trusted.”
“By this account, then, Lizzy, he appears to feel as passionately for Mr. Darcy as Mr. Darcy does for him. Something very bad, perhaps even worse than what Mr. Darcy has related to you with regard to their association, must surely have occurred to promote such strong feelings of aversion.”
“I confess I am of your opinion on this matter. Mr. Darcy was most disturbed, Jane. Even as he was speaking privately to me of Mr. Wickham, he remained visibly so. It is most out of character for him to reveal such emotions on any matter, and given this, I cannot help but wonder whether he may yet be keeping something further to himself.”
Jane was thoughtful for a long moment before saying quietly, “Lizzy, I do believe Mr. Darcy must be in love with you.”
Elizabeth stared at her and laughed. “Jane! Whatever makes you think such a thing? Surely Mr. Darcy feels
