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When at last he entered the room, Mr. Wickham was the happy man towards whom almost every female eye was turned, and Elizabeth was the happy woman by whom he finally seated himself. The agreeable manner in which he immediately fell into conversation, though it was only on the weather, made her feel the skill of such a speaker surely must render the commonest, dullest, most threadbare topic interesting. He spoke of many things: his new profession in the militia, his love of life, and his youthful days in Derbyshire.

“Derbyshire is your home, sir?” What a coincidence this is! “I travelled to Derbyshire just last summer with my aunt and uncle from town. I visited many beautiful places including Pemberley, where I made the acquaintance of Miss Georgiana Darcy.”

Crossing and then uncrossing his long legs, Mr. Wickham cleared his throat. “I suppose if you have met Miss Darcy, then you may have heard of me. No doubt she would have said something to you about me.”

“She often speaks of her brother in her missives and occasionally she makes mention of her cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. I am afraid she has never spoken of you, sir. Why would she? Have you a connection with her family?”

“Indeed. I have been associated with her family since my birth.”

This information excited Elizabeth’s curiosity. “You will not be surprised to learn that Mr. Darcy was a guest at Netherfield Park, a neighbouring estate of Longbourn, a short while back.”

“Indeed. This is a surprise, but I must confess that it has been some time since Darcy and I last encountered each other. I know nothing of his comings and goings of late.”

“I beg your pardon, sir. You spoke of enjoying a connection with the family. I only supposed⁠—”

“It is a long story, which I am certain you do not wish to know. Pray how did you and Darcy get along whilst he was in Hertfordshire. With his residing at a neighbouring estate, I imagine the two of you had many opportunities to be in each other’s company.”

“I never truly met the gentleman. His stay was of a short duration.”

“Then you have no opinion of him?”

“Nothing of which to form a true sketch of his character. I have heard varying accounts of him.”

Wickham leaned closer and lowered his voice. “You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that head than myself. He and I were once considered very close.”

Elizabeth could not help but look surprised.

“It is just as well that Miss Darcy has never spoken of me. She is just like her brother, which causes me to marvel at your being acquaintances. She and her brother are descendants of nobility, their late mother’s brother being the Earl of Matlock. I do not mind saying they are a very proud lot who barely countenance those who are not their equals in consequence.”

Elizabeth shifted in her seat. It was one thing to allow for foul sentiments spoken against Mr. Darcy, someone whom she had not met, but had made a poor name for himself amongst her friends and family. It was quite another to cast aspersions on her friend. Gossiping about one’s own friend is something I dare never tolerate.

“Sir, I beg you to refrain from expressing such harsh sentiments about someone whom I consider a dear friend, even if our acquaintance is of short duration. You may very well have differences with Miss Darcy, but that can have nothing at all to do with me.”

Respecting her wishes, the gentleman spoke no more on the subject of Georgiana Darcy; however, his sentiments towards her brother simply would not be repressed, such had been the magnitude of Mr. Darcy’s offences against him. The more he talked, the more she listened—even encouraged, for she considered that both Pemberley’s housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, and Mr. Wickham had spoken words along a similar vein, the difference being the former’s commendations were fashioned by loyalty, and the latter’s recriminations were wrought by injustice. All in all, Mr. Wickham had given a pretty good account of things. In fact, his words carried more weight as he and Mr. Darcy were reared together and were once considered friends. Surely one’s childhood friend is more privy to certain unflattering aspects of one’s character than a household servant whose very existence depends upon blind loyalty.

Before they parted for the evening, Mr. Wickham remained of a mind to discuss the gentleman from Derbyshire. “I wonder whether Darcy is likely to return to the country in the foreseeable future.”

“Do you refer to the upcoming Netherfield ball, sir? I am aware all of the officers are invited. Will your plans to attend be affected by the possibility of his being in attendance?”

“I see no reason for my plans being adversely affected by Darcy’s presence.” He took her hand in his and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “You must save room on your dance card for me, or I shall be sorely disappointed.”

How it pleased Elizabeth to be so adored. She could think of nothing other than Mr. Wickham, and of what he had told her, all the way to Longbourn Village. His tale of the injustices of Mr. Darcy told her a couple things. Were the lieutenant a man in want of a wife, the chance she would be a viable choice was small. Unless she had read him completely wrong, a man of his habits of taste would likely require a wife with her own fortune. She might enjoy his smiles and his charming and amiable conversation, but she still had the task of finding and accepting her own husband before it was too late.

I am growing increasingly concerned that my time is running out!

CHAPTER 4

IN DEFIANCE OF EVERYTHING

Elizabeth walked around much of the following days with her head full of the dashing Lt. Wickham. The weight of Mr. Darcy’s injustices towards the gentleman burdened her as well.

Had Mr. Darcy honoured his father’s intentions for the gentleman, then Mr. Wickham might well be a vicar in the idyllic town of Kympton. Instead, he is consigned to life as a mere footman. How magnanimous he is in not exposing Mr. Darcy when it was made clear that he has found in the people of Hertfordshire a willingness to be pleased by anything he might say in support of their own objections against the proud man.

I have not added Mr. Wickham’s name to my list just yet, but more and more, I believe I should. It is not a crime to lack wealth and connections, and, besides, neither of those attributes is on my list of requisites.

How blessed she had been to meet a man who possessed such goodness, such charm, and integrity. Above all, he was amiable. How he had flattered her ego by sitting with her for so very long when it was obvious so many of the other women in attendance at the Philipses’ dinner party were eager for their share in conversation with him, and none more than her two younger sisters who surely admired any gentleman in a red coat.

I only wish all the offices in Colonel Forster’s regime are as upstanding as Lt. George Wickham.