Page 13 of Elizabeth and Caroline
“YOU INDICATED THATMr. Darcy had an unfavorable reputation, did you not?” came a voice.
Elizabeth had escaped the noise of the whist party inside her Aunt Philips house as much as the attentions of Mr. Collins, who had taken to following her about the room and giving her wretched compliments such as, “I think Lady Catherine would quite approve of your dress” and “You are not nearly as tall as your youngest sister, are you? I approve. I do not think women should be too tall.”
As if a woman controlled her height!
At any rate, there was only one escape, and that was the garden. It was growing dark and it was a bit chilly, but she didn’t care. She had thought she would be alone out here.
But looking up, she saw that Mr. Wickham was there.
She was seated on the ground, which was very casual, and she made to get to her feet, but Mr. Wickham sat down next to her, smiling at her, a genial smile, and she thought again that his countenance was pleasing.
“I beg you, don’t get up,” he said. “I shouldn’t like to think I disturbed you.”
She shook her head. “We should not be out here, together, alone.”
“Yes, quite scandalous,” he said, his smile changing, going conspiratorial. “We shall have to time ourselves going back in. You will go in first and I shall wait some time beforefollowing. If anyone asks, we each saw no one in the garden.”
She could not help but smile at this. It was good fun to be drawn into such a little scheme, though she well knew that no one would think anything actually untoward was going on out here. The garden was not very large, after all, and they were in town. “Yes, very good. If pressed, we must both claim to be quite offended at any implication we are lying.”
“Oh, just so. We shall declare our innocence until anything to the contrary is quieted.”
She smirked. “I think protesting too much is perhaps not the winning strategy, however.”
“You could be right.”
“The truth is, sir, no one here knows him. He only just arrived.”
“What?” said Mr. Wickham.
“Mr. Darcy, sir,” she said. “You inquired after him, mentioning his reputation. I may say he has none in this part of the country.”
“You had an opinion of him, however.”
“Yes, but this was formed only because my friend Miss Bingley had described him to me,” said Elizabeth. “She is quite taken with him, but Miss Bingley and I value different things in men, you see.”
“Ah,” said Mr. Wickham, nodding at her. “And you do not value the attributes Mr. Darcy possesses?”
“I don’t believe I do,” said Elizabeth.
“Then you, madam, are a rare woman indeed.”
He was being a flatterer again, but Elizabeth might like it. Maybe she was susceptible to flattery. Maybe everyone was.
He was speaking again. “I must say, he’s not what he appears, however.”
“No?” she said. “What is he, then?” This was the part where Mr. Wickham let the wild horses drag his confession free, after all. She waited expectantly.
“We were close when we were boys,” said Mr. Wickham. “I am quite close to the family, you see. My father is thesteward there, at the Darcy estate in Derbyshire.”
“Oh,” she said. “I see.”
“His father, the late old Darcy, he was the best man I’ve ever known. He was like a second father to me, truly. He saw to my education, sent me to school, and wished to see to my continued well-being, in fact. It was his wish that I have a living in Derbyshire itself, and for this eventuality I trained. I was ready to take a position as the rector there, but that never came about. Now, here I am, in the militia.” He chuckled.
“Mr. Darcy’s father sent you to school?” she said.
“Oh, yes, indeed. He was, as I say, a very good man.”
“But then why did you not take the position at the rectory there?”
