Page 8 of A Forced Marriage
Wickham's smile broadened slightly as he replied, "Indeed, Mr. Collins."
As they continued to converse, Wickham fell into step beside Elizabeth. "What a funny man your cousin is," he remarked quietly.
Elizabeth suppressed a smile. "He is always speaking of his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh."
Wickham chuckled. "I see."
"So, Derbyshire?" Elizabeth began. "What is the country like there?"
Wickham's eyes brightened at the question. "It is a place of great natural beauty, with rolling hills and verdant landscapes. It is quite remarkable, I must say."
Elizabeth nodded. "We met one of its gentlemen yesterday. He was lost and stumbled upon Longbourn. A man by the name of Fitzwilliam Darcy."
At the mention of Darcy's name, Wickham froze momentarily, but not without Elizabeth noticing. His smile faded, and a shadow crossed his face. "You know Mr. Darcy?" he asked, his tone wary.
Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, he called on us at Longbourn. He seemed kind of distant, perhaps shy. Do you know him?"
Wickham sighed. "Indeed, I do. We have known each other since childhood. I grew up at their family’s estate, Pemberley, as my father was Mr. Darcy's steward. Mr. Darcy's father treated me like a son and promised me a living upon his death, but Mr. Darcy did not honour his father's wishes after his demise. His behaviour towards me has been nothing short of malicious."
Elizabeth's brow furrowed at the revelation. "That is indeed unfortunate. I am sorry to hear it."
Wickham continued, lowering his voice so only Elizabeth could hear, "Mr. Darcy deprived me of my rightful inheritance. He has always been jealous of the affection his father showed me and sought to undermine me at every turn."
Her thoughts about Mr. Darcy from the previous day came swelling to the surface. Elizabeth's previous impression of him as distant and perhaps proud was now reinforced by Wickham's account. She felt a growing sense of indignation on Wickham's behalf.
While she contemplated what more to say on the subject, Wickham mentioned, "There will be a ball hosted at the Meryton assembly, in two days’ time."
Seeing as he had changed the subject, Elizabeth assumed her companion had no wish to discuss Mr. Darcy further. "It is the talk of town. Will you be attending, Mr. Wickham?" she asked.
Wickham shook his head regretfully. "I fear I must decline, Miss Bennet. Duty calls me elsewhere."
Kitty and Lydia expressed their disappointment. "We wish you could be there, Mr. Wickham. We would have loved to dance with you."
"I would have enjoyed that as well. But I am sure you will have a splendid time.” Wickham smiled ruefully.
Kitty added, "I look forward to dancing with all the men of the militia and also with Mr. Bingley and perhaps his quieter friend, Mr. Darcy."
"Don’t be silly, Kitty. You wouldn’t have danced with half the men in the militia when the ball will be over," Mary commented.
"I am sure there will be enough time to dance and make merry," Elizabeth announced, seeking to end the argument brewing between her sisters.
As they prepared to part ways, Wickham leaned in closer to Elizabeth and murmured, "If Mr. Darcy attends the assembly, Miss Bennet, I would advise caution. He is not what he seems. Do not be swayed by his wealth and status."
Elizabeth, taken aback by Wickham's warning, could only nod. Mr. Wickham and his companion bid the party farewell and departed on a separate way. As they continued home, Mr. Collins resumed his conversation about the parsonage and what Lady Catherine de Bourgh would think of most of the sight they saw along the way. Elizabeth, however, was lost in her own thoughts. The day's events had given her much to ponder, and she found herself increasingly wary of Mr. Darcy. Wickham's words only confirmed her suspicions from the previous day. She looked forward to getting home and discussing it with Jane. Now Jane would see that she was right about Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth thought. He wasn’t shy, but a man whose pride was unconcealable and who treated people in an ungentlemanly manner.
****
The sun was beginning to shine high in the sky, its rays entering through the tall windows of Netherfield as Mr. Darcy entered the breakfast room, appearing more refreshed than he had the previous evening.
Mr. Bingley, already seated, looked up with a welcoming smile. "Ah, Darcy! Good morning. I trust you are well rested?"
"Indeed, Bingley. I feel quite refreshed," Darcy replied, taking a seat.
Miss Bingley, who had been attentively waiting at the table for Darcy's arrival, beamed and said, "I trust you are feeling quite recovered from your journey, Mr. Darcy. The table is set, and we are delighted to have you join us for breakfast."
Darcy inclined his head politely. "Everything was quite satisfactory, Miss Bingley."
"I do hope your accommodations were to your liking, Mr. Darcy." Mrs. Hurst, added.
