Page 57 of Ashes and Understanding
Shrugging his shoulders, Wickham gave a little laugh. “Mr. Darcy and I have known one another since our childhood. He probably suddenly remembered the time I caught more fish than him and could not bear the reminder of his humiliation at my hands.”
Elizabeth bit her lip, torn between keeping Darcy’s affairs private or alleviating Wickham’s wounded feelings. Before she could decide, however, she heard her name being called. Turning, she saw her parents standing at their carriage outside of the Philips’ residence—and Mr. Bennet did not look pleased.
“Thank you again, Lieutenant,” she said, dipping a small curtsy before grasping Lydia and Kitty by their arms. “It is time for us to leave now, as our parents have finished their business.”
“It was my pleasure,” he said. “Allow me to escort you across to them safely.”
She hesitated, noting the deepening glower on her father’s face. The crowded street gave her pause, however, and she reluctantly acquiesced.
Wickham offered his arm with practiced ease, and Lydia, undeterred by the warning in her father’s scowl, eagerly tookit before Elizabeth could protest. Kitty giggled and trotted after them, and Elizabeth found herself trailing behind as they crossed the road.
Mr. Bennet's brows were drawn together, and he tapped his walking stick impatiently against the step. “I thought you were only to visit the haberdashery?”
“That was our intention, Papa, but—”
“Lydia was almost killed!” Kitty burst out in excitement, unable to keep herself from interrupting. “A box fell from a cart, and it would have landed on her if Lieutenant Wickham had not pushed her out of the way!”
Mrs. Bennet clutched her gloved hand to her heart. “La! My poor girl! You might have been trampled or worse!” She turned to Wickham with bright eyes. “Lieutenant, we are most indebted to you. Such gallantry!”
Wickham offered a polite bow. “I am relieved to have been of help, ma’am. I only did what any gentleman would.”
“Not every gentleman would bother,” Mr. Bennet said dryly, giving the young man a more measured look. “But I thank you, sir. I suppose I should be grateful someone had eyes on the child, even if I did not.”
Lydia made a sour face at being referred to in such a way, but then she beamed at Wickham and squeezed his arm. “It was ever so brave of him.”
“Indeed, it was!” cried Mrs. Philips, who had been standing at the doorway unnoticed. “To express my gratitude, I would like to personally invite you to my card party tomorrow evening. An invitation has already been sent to Colonel Forster, but you shall be my special guest, in honor of your heroics.”
Chuckling, Wickham said with a bow, “I would be delighted, madam.”
“Well, girls, we must be going.” Mr. Bennet ushered his family towards the carriage door. Before entering himself, he turned and said, “My thanks again, sir.”
As the carriage drove away, Elizabeth looked back through the window at the handsome figure of Lieutenant Wickham, who had joined a small group of officers in conversation.
Things certainly have been changing in Meryton. What will happen next?she wondered.
∞∞∞
The drawing room at her aunt Philips’s house was more crowded than usual the following evening. The usual card tables were set up, but now they were flanked by a number of officers in uniform, laughing boisterously and speaking too loudly. Elizabeth, who had grown up attending these parties, blinked at the difference a few red coats made.
A glance at Colonel Forster showed the man smiling tightly, his hands clasped behind his back as though he hoped decorum might return if he simply wished it hard enough. Usually, she would enjoy being in such a large crowd, but not one that was more raucous than festive.
Elizabeth, deciding she had no desire to try her luck at the card tables, especially after overhearing two officers discuss the value of their fish tokens in actual currency, wandered toward the fire.She took a seat near the hearth, grateful for the warmth and distance from the bustle of the room.
She watched with a small smirk as several of the local young ladies—Lydia and Kitty included—vied for the attention of the red-coated men. Lieutenant Wickham appeared to be the most popular, no doubt due to his good looks. She vaguely recognized a few other soldiers that she had been introduced to since the militia had come into the county, such as Lieutenants Denny and Pratt, as well as Captains Carter and Chamberlayne.
Her attention was pulled away by an uproar at one of the card tables. One of the officers shouted in anger, while another gleefully swept the fish into a large pile in front of him. She bit her lip and looked around at her aunt Philips, who was watching the soldiers anxiously. Fortunately, Captain Carter went to the group and was able to quiet them down a bit.
“May I join you, Miss Bennet?”
She looked up and found Lieutenant Wickham standing nearby, his hat tucked neatly under one arm. His expression was open and charming, and she felt her cheeks warm at his attention.
“Of course,” she said, gesturing to the empty chair beside her. “Do you not care for card games?”
He smiled as he sat down, the firelight catching in the gold of his uniform buttons. “I like them a little too much, I am afraid.”
Her brow rose. “Indeed?”
Wickham gave a rueful chuckle. “When I was at Cambridge, I played far too often. Accumulated more debt than was wise and made something of a name for myself, I fear. Mr. Darcy warned me often enough to stop, but I was too proud to listen.”
