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She answered in the affirmative. Slightly irritated by his manner and unable to resist the temptation, Elizabeth said, “I have since made another acquaintance, other than yourself, of course, who hails from Derbyshire. Lt. George Wickham.”
The effect was immediate. A deep shade of hauteur overspread his features. His voice resounding, almost intimidating, he said, “Wickham?”
“Yes, having learned of my visit to Pemberley, he was eager to tell me of his own experience having lived there. He is quite amiable.” It is a shame you saw fit to deny him the living that might have satisfied his every notion of happiness.
Mr. Darcy uttered not a word, but his silence spoke volumes. Elizabeth supposed she had said enough. He is my dear friend’s brother. We need not be adversaries simply because he and Mr. Wickham do not get along.
At length, Darcy spoke in a constrained manner. “Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends. From what I observed of the people of Meryton, there is no doubt they would find the likes of him most agreeable.”
There it is again—that haughty air of condescension! Indeed, sir, unlike you whom they all found quite deplorable. “He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship, and in a manner he is likely to suffer from all his life.”
“You know nothing about me. Why would you say such a thing?”
Satisfied with his discomposure, she said, “It was merely something that the gentleman conveyed about your relationship. Am I mistaken?”
His countenance suggested he would rather speak on any subject but Mr. Wickham. “I see no occasion for a renewal of my acquaintance with the man. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.”
Elizabeth arched her brow. “With such strong convictions, I suppose you never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?”
“I hope not.”
“I ask because it is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion to be secure of judging properly at first.”
“May I ask to what these questions tend?”
“I merely seek to illustrate your character. I am trying to make it out.”
“And what is your success?”
She shook her head. “I do not get on at all. I have heard such varying accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.”
Clearing his throat, he tore his eyes away from hers for an instant. “I think this is a conversation for another time.”
“But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity.”
“I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,” he coldly replied.
She said no more, and they went down the other dance in silence.
What on earth is she about? If she meant to provoke me, then she surely succeeded in her quest. Why would she wish to garner my ire? Surely she has not been persuaded against me by Wickham’s lies. There is no telling which of his tales of woe he has laid at her feet.
How did Wickham find himself in Hertfordshire, of all places?
What do I care? Unless Bingley is foolish enough to attach himself to the eldest Bennet daughter, I likely will never set foot in those parts again.
When the dance was over, he escorted Elizabeth to where his aunt and sister stood. Georgiana said, “Brother, I see you take no pleasure in being here. I thereby give you permission to take your leave.”
“You are mistaken, dearest. I find there is no place else I would rather be than here with you and your guest. Moreover, you and I have yet to dance.”
Indeed, Darcy’s curiosity was stirred. Whether it was the young woman’s teasing smile or her strange fascination with George Wickham, he did not know. He rather supposed it was the latter. The Ramsgate affair, despite having happened over a year ago was too fresh in his mind to countenance a similar situation unfolding. The trust he had placed in his sister’s former companion, Mrs. Younge, was one of his greatest failings. Never would he allow such a mistake again.
Anyone who considers herself a friend of Wickham’s is no friend of mine and certainly is not to be trusted around my young sister. Whatever Miss Elizabeth is about, I intend to find out.
CHAPTER 7
SKETCHING HER CHARACTER
Darcy arrived at his sister’s Mayfair establishment very early the next morning. He had in mind something other than a social call. He had barely taken his seat before embarking upon the purpose of his visit.
