Page 24 of Knowing Mr. Darcy
Privately, Elizabeth knew it to be true. She wondered at herself, sabotaging Jane’s match with Mr. Collins…
But then one look at the man and she knew that Jane could not be happy with him. She could not allow that to happen to her sister. Mary would bear it differently, Elizabeth thought. Mary had read Fordyce’s sermons herself. Mary had a view of the world that would compliment Mr. Collins. They’d be happy together. It was the obvious match of the sisters, if someone had to marry him.
Of course, she had not actually asked Mary what she thought, and she was getting ready to do exactly that, when Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley appeared. They were on horseback, but dismounted readily and came to speak to the gathered company.
Mr. Bingley gushed to Elizabeth that he had just been on his way to inquire after her at Longbourn, and Elizabeth’s heart jumped, for this must mean that he did indeed feel strongly for her, if he was coming to call.
Mr. Darcy smiled at Jane and said that he could confirm it was so. It was a happy accident to have come across them here.
Mr. Collins was jostling about for an introduction, and Elizabeth thought that Jane was about to oblige him, but suddenly Mr. Darcy looked up and saw Mr. Wickham.
They were but ten feet from each other, but the distance seemed further. Something about the way they looked at each other seemed to make everything stop. All of the sisters went quiet, and the men around Wickham stopped talking as well.
Mr. Wickham touched his hat, careless.
Mr. Darcy’s face was red and he touched his own hat, his movements jerky. He immediately mounted his horse, muttering something to Bingley about needing to be off at once and that he would see him later.
Mr. Bingley, however, seemed oblivious to all of it. Hewas talking, she realized, about William Wallace, of all things. He waved Mr. Darcy off with barely a look and proceeded to tell Elizabeth that he should be quite happy to have her procure a reading list for him, that he found himself much motivated to improve himself when it was in the service of her pleasure.
Elizabeth resolved that she must get Jane to speak to Mr. Wickham or to Mr. Darcy at the next possible opportunity. Certainly, Jane’s sweet disposition would mean that no one could help explaining all to her. Also, both of them seemed interested in Jane!
Could it have been that?
No, no, Mr. Darcy hadn’t seen the way Mr. Wickham had looked at her.
“I find Scottish history ever so interesting now!” said Mr. Bingley.
“I’m glad you read a book, Mr. Bingley,” she said, trying ever so intently to focusonlyon him. “And that you enjoyed it more than you enjoyedRobinson Crusoe.”
“It helped that it was based on historical fact, I think,” said Mr. Bingley. “Even though it was a novel, it was grounded in something real. So many novels today are all about theTower of Thisor theCastle of That, and they’re just some silly woman wandering around in cobwebbed, dark corridors, wondering if some man is actually dangerous or not. Why would a woman be interested in a dangerous man, I ask you?”
“I don’t know,” said Elizabeth, shrugging. “Dangerous men are never alluring, in my opinion.” She could not help but glance at Mr. Wickham again. Had she everseensuch a handsome man?
CHAPTER SIX
THE OPPORTUNITY TOthrust Jane into Mr. Wickham’s path came quite soon, for the Bennet sisters and Mr. Collins were invited to dine at their aunt’s and uncle’s house, the Philips. Mr. Wickham was there when they arrived, and the evening stretched out to include games of whist.
Everyone wished to speak to Mr. Wickham, for he truly was handsome and polite and all things pleasing. But he seated himself next to Elizabeth, and Elizabeth nudged him in the direction of Jane.
“My sister is the favorite of Mr. Darcy, you know,” she said, which was a lie, but only barely a lie, she decided. “I wonder if you know any reason why she should be wary of such a man.”
Mr. Wickham gave a her a shrewd look. “You are an observant one, aren’t you, then?”
She shrugged. “Besides, I saw the way you looked at my sister when we met.”
Mr. Wickham gazed steadily at her. “Not as observant as all that, then.”
“Whatever does that mean?”
He chuckled, turning to stare across the room at Jane. “Just that I was looking at you, of course.”
Elizabeth was reeling from that as Mr. Wickham got up, casual as you please, and went to stand near Jane.
Jane spoke to him, and he to her, and then he joined hertable, and the two sat there together, with none else, engaged in conversation for quite some time. Several times, Elizabeth determined that she would simply go over and join them, and several times, she talked herself out of the activity.
When they got home, she was bursting to know what it had all been about. She stood in front of the mirror in the bedchamber she shared with Jane and examined her face and turned to look at her sister and then back at herself.
She was not pretty.
