Susan Adriani - Truth about Mr. Darcy

“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 nothing for me. You remember his comment at the assembly, do you not?”

“Indeed, it was very wrong of him to say such a thing at all, never mind in company, but, Lizzy, does it not strike you as incredible that a man of Mr. Darcy’s notoriety—such a proud, private man of much significance in the world—would speak with you so willingly and openly about his dealings with such a man as Mr. Wickham? I can hardly credit it. No, it could only be a compliment to you, my dearest sister.”

“Really, Jane, this is too absurd!” She laughed again. “You know just as well as I do, Mr. Darcy holds me in contempt for my decided opinions and my impertinent manner. He would never deign to pay his addresses to me, an unknown country miss with nothing more than fifty pounds and my charms to recommend me, not when he could have a fashionable woman with fifty thousand and a title.”

Jane smiled. “I beg to differ.”

Elizabeth made to protest, but Jane silenced her. “You forget, Lizzy, I, as well as Charlotte, have noticed the attention Mr. Darcy pays you, even if it is nothing more than staring at you from across the room. It cannot have escaped your keen observation that you are, indeed, the only lady he stares at.” Jane shook her head. “No, there is no other explanation for it. Mr. Darcy must be in love with you.” The discussion was continued in earnest, and half the night was spent in conversation.

The next day saw the arrival of an unexpected addition to the family party at Longbourn: Mr. Bennet’s cousin and heir, the Reverend William Collins. With the intention of making amends for an ongoing estrangement by his late father and the entail of Longbourn estate to himself upon Mr. Bennet’s death, Mr. Collins journeyed from Kent to choose a wife from among Mr. Bennet’s five daughters. If this did nothing to recommend Mr. Collins to the young ladies, it did at least add the promise of entertainment for their father, who was an enthusiastic admirer of the ridiculous. Mr. Collins did not disappoint.

Though none of Mr. Bennet’s daughters, with the exception of Mary, could receive Mr. Collins’s arrival or his attentions with genuine pleasure, the same could not be said for Mrs. Bennet, who welcomed him with open arms—as she would any gentleman of an eligible age and a good income. Mrs. Bennet introduced him to her girls with great cordiality and enthusiasm.

Being the most beautiful of the five sisters, Jane immediately caught his eye. Fortunately for Jane, however, her mother most dutifully pointed out to him that Bingley and his five thousand a year had preceded him. It was then only fitting for Mr. Collins to transfer his affections from Jane to Elizabeth—the next in age and beauty—and he did so with surprising alacrity.

“Lord, Lizzy!” her youngest sister, Lydia, laughed that evening after the gentlemen had withdrawn after supper. “I daresay you are becoming quite popular with all the pompous gentlemen in the neighborhood. First you are seen in Meryton talking alone with that dull Mr. Darcy, and now you have gone and caught Mr. Collins’s eye, as well! What a good joke if Papa were actually to force you to marry one of them! I could not imagine being shackled to such wretched bores!”

“Oh, yes!” Kitty joined in. “But really, Lizzy, you are being selfish. Will you not leave any eligible prospects for the rest of us?” she admonished before bursting into a fit of giggles.

Elizabeth folded her arms and scowled. “Lydia! Kitty! I would remind you both not to talk of such things, particularly when you know nothing of the circumstances.”

“Who shall be next then, do you think?” Lydia asked merrily. “Oh! I know! Mrs. Goulding has an old, incontinent relative visiting her. Perhaps he will do nicely for Lizzy, as well!”

Mrs. Bennet interjected. “Now, girls, that is quite enough. You know perfectly well Mr. Pritchard is far too elderly for your sister… although, he would likely leave her with a very pretty estate in Devonshire…” She frowned. “Now, Miss Lizzy, what is this I hear about your talking alone with that odious Mr. Darcy?”

Elizabeth blushed. “It is nothing, Mama. I was merely showing him some of the village. It was all quite innocent, I assure you. I have no interest in that particular gentleman, and I am quite certain Mr. Darcy has very little interest in me.”

“I do not doubt that one bit,” she agreed as she wrung her lace handkerchief. “I will admit there was a time when I would have been happy to see one of you girls so advantageously settled as mistress to that man’s estate—goodness! Ten thousand a year!—but he has since shown himself to be such a proud, disagreeable man that I would not have him near any of you for all the gold in the Kingdom! No, Mr. Collins will do very nicely for you, Lizzy. Mark my words. You are very lucky to get such a man… so affable! So promising! So fortunate in his patroness, the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh!”

Elizabeth, for all her protests, could not convince her mother she would not suit Mr. Collins at all, nor would he suit her. In the end, she only retired to bed, determined to avoid Mr. Collins as much as possible and to also avoid doing anything in the future that might incite any unwelcome speculation about her and Mr. Darcy.

Over the course of the next few days, Elizabeth found herself often in the presence of Darcy. Though that gentleman continued to stare at her just as steadily as he always had, Elizabeth was startled on several occasions to have him approach her as well, with the obvious intention of engaging her in conversation. Elizabeth did everything in her power to quickly extract herself from his company and to avoid him whenever possible, making a point to speak politely with every officer or gentleman, save Lieutenant Wickham, who paid her even the slightest attention. She had no intention of speaking with Darcy, either alone or in the company of others.

Each evening Darcy now passed in Elizabeth’s society, saw him become brooding and withdrawn. He could hardly like her friendly attentions to others, not when he wished for nothing more than her eyes, her lively teasing, and her smiles to be directed at him. He could not understand what could have occurred to make her wish to avoid him now, for it was quite clear to him Elizabeth was avoiding him. Though Darcy felt a great deal of pain over her inexplicable actions, he could at least rejoice in the fact she did seem to take his warning about Wickham to heart. She avoided prolonged contact with that gentleman, as well.

*   *   *

The following evening, the Bennets were all to dine at the home of their Aunt and Uncle Phillips in Meryton. Mr. Collins was delighted to find himself included in the invitation. He had been loath to part from Elizabeth, to whom he had been attentive since he had decided upon her several days earlier. Mrs. Bennet wasted no time by publicly proclaiming her immense delight with the match and encouraging it in whatever way she could.

To Kitty and Lydia, this continued to be a ceaseless source of amusement, especially since they considered themselves most fortunate to have escaped any such notice by the stodgy Mr. Collins. After all, in the opinion of Mrs. Bennet’s two youngest daughters, what woman could ever be bothered to give two straws about a droll clergyman when there were far more satisfying prospects to be had parading themselves about the countryside of Hertfordshire in regimentals? They delighted in making their sentiments known.

With immense relief, Elizabeth managed to slip away from Mr. Collins’s attentive and somewhat overbearing society while he spoke with great enthusiasm to her Aunt Phillips about the grandeur of Rosings Park and the condescension and affability of his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. In her aunt, Mr. Collins was sure to find a most obliging listener and, in Mrs. Phillips’s guests, an audience eager to hear his raptures on his favorite topics for the greater part of the evening.

She soon found herself uneasy, however, as she recognized Mr. Wickham standing slightly apart from the other officers and guests in her aunt’s home, an insincere smile gracing his face, and his gaze resting upon her. She had not spoken with him at any length since their first meeting in Meryton, when Darcy had cautioned her not to be taken in by his easy manners. Elizabeth had imagined any association with Darcy would have been enough to deter Wickham from wishing to renew their slight acquaintance, but in that she had been mistaken. He had taken every opportunity, on the few occasions when their paths did cross, to attempt to engage her in conversation. She could see by the determined look in his eyes that tonight would be no different, and indeed, no sooner had she left Mr. Collins than Elizabeth found herself being addressed with a low bow and an ingratiating smile.

“Good evening, Miss Elizabeth. I must say you are looking lovely this evening.”

She returned his compliment with guarded civility. Wickham was far from discouraged. “I must confess I had hoped to have become better acquainted with you by now, but alas, I have not had the pleasure of seeing you in Meryton with your sisters these six days at least. I can only imagine this is due to some far more rewarding pursuit of yours, which must, undoubtedly, have a prior claim on your time.”

Elizabeth did not know whether or not she trusted his words and, with a raised brow, replied, “I engage in many pursuits I find to be rewarding, Mr. Wickham.”

“Do you indulge yourself in these rewarding pursuits daily, then?”

“Yes, I suppose I do, whenever I find I am at leisure.”

“I see. And which pursuit, if you do not mind my asking, brings you the most pleasure, Miss Elizabeth?” Wickham inquired.

Elizabeth hesitated. “I am partial to any form of exercise that might afford me an opportunity to be out-of-doors, particularly when the weather is fine.”

“You enjoy taking your exercise out-of-doors, do you? How interesting. Tell me, Miss Elizabeth, would I be correct to assume you also enjoy taking your pleasure indoors whenever you can?”

Elizabeth observed him with a puzzled expression. “Indoors, Mr. Wickham? I am not certain whether I understand your meaning. Certainly, when the weather is uncooperative, one will find pleasure in one’s needlework, at the pianoforte, or in a good book, but you must own that one can hardly compare taking a turn in a stuffy drawing room to the satisfaction of a leisurely ramble in the fresh air of a wooded path.”

Wickham’s voice took on a tone she could not like. “Oh, come now, Miss Elizabeth, there is no need to be coy. I have noticed your intimacy with a certain gentleman from Derbyshire… or, to be more accurate, his marked preference for you. I can imagine it must be rather gratifying for a young lady such as yourself to be singled out by such a wealthy and distinguished man who has lived very much in the world.”

Elizabeth gasped as comprehension dawned on her. Wickham lowered his voice in a disturbing manner and said in a throaty whisper, “Does his… society satisfy you, Miss Elizabeth? Because I, for one, would be most obliged to step in and instruct you myself whenever you may feel the urge for far more superior companionship. I assure you, I have never been known to disappoint a beautiful woman.” He took a step closer while his gaze roamed over her form. A smirk began to tug at the corners of Wickham’s mouth, and the same insolent sneer he had worn for Darcy appeared for her.

Elizabeth was appalled and sickened by the vulgarity of this man, and before she could stop herself or recall where she was, she raised her hand to slap him hard across his face. To her further horror, Wickham caught her hand roughly in his and forced it, instead, to his lips as he let out a soft, derisive laugh.

“Of course, I knew you and I would soon come to an understanding of sorts.”