Page 18 of Darcy's Guarded Heart
She nodded. “Yes, you did. He is staying at Netherfield with his sister, visiting Mr Bingley.”
“Charles Bingley? I am as familiar with him as I am with Darcy. Although I must say, I am more grateful for one connection than the other.”
Elizabeth bit her lip, unsure how to respond.
“I am certain he has told you dreadful tales about me,” Mr Wickham said.
She blinked. “Are there dreadful tales to tell about you, Mr Wickham?”
He smiled wryly. “Nothing more dreadful than what has been said about me in town, which has been greatly exaggerated. I will say I have a habit of being very friendly to people, but I see that as a strength rather than a weakness.”
“I see. Pray, how do you know Mr Darcy?”
Mr Wickham smiled wider. “My father was Darcy’s father’s steward. Old Mr Darcy was always very fond of me. When my father died I was still very young, he took me under his wing. I always looked up to younger Darcy, hoping he would be an older brother of sorts, but it was not to be. We have quite different characters.”
“Indeed you do,” Elizabeth stated. Although there was something dubious about Mr Wickham, he had an easy nature, could effortlessly entertain others, and always had a story to tell, whilst Mr Darcy was usually quiet and reserved.
“It is a shame,” Mr Wickham continued. “We are quite close in age, and his sister has always been very fond of me, just as I am of her. Indeed, I was delighted to see her, even though it meant seeing her brother.”
Elizabeth couldn’t help herself; her curiosity was utterly piqued. What had transpired between Mr Wickham and Mr Darcy? They disliked each other, yes. But could it be there was something more sinister afoot than mere jealousy?
“She did seem quite delighted to see you,” she observed.
“And she was. It is a shame that your brother—I mean, Mr Bennet—took it upon himself to interrupt, but it cannot be helped. There will be time for Miss Darcy and I to speak.”
“Miss Darcy?” she echoed. “So you are still on good terms with Mr Darcy’s sister?”
“Indeed. This may be a reason for Darcy’s great dislike of me. He looked down on me for merely being a steward’s son. Not so his father. He always treated me like a son and remembered me in his will. He left me a living.”
This took Elizabeth by surprise, prompting her to ask, “But if you have a living, why are you in the militia?”
Mr Wickham shrugged with a playful smile. “That is where Darcy’s dislike of me rears its ugly head. He did not wish for me to be in his vicinity for too long, so he gave the living to someone else.”
Elizabeth took a deep breath and glanced across the room where Mr Darcy was lurking. She recalled Thomas’s words not to believe everything he said, but given the things she had overheard Mr Darcy say about her family and her beloved sister, she had to give credence where it was due.
“He took the living from you?” she asked.
“Indeed. If you do not believe me, you can ask Georgiana. She was well aware of it and quite upset with him at the time. I did not want to come between brother and sister, so I told her it was my own decision and soon left Derbyshire to join the militia.”
“Well, I have taken up quite enough of your time. Perhaps later in the week, I might call upon you, and we could take a turn about the garden.”
She opened her mouth but then closed it again, unsure how to tell him that while she was not opposed to cordial conversation, she was not interested in more. Not after he had first shown her attention only to then focus on Miss King.
“I am certain Miss King would not appreciate it if you kept my company quite so much,” she said.
His smile froze but then quickly returned. “I’m certain you have heard there is no concern in that regard anymore. But in any case, I do hope to see you again, for your company is always a pleasure.” With that, he took his leave, making a courteous gesture before walking towards the front door. He paused for a moment to speak to Lady Lucas before disappearing.
Elizabeth stood back and watched him leave and then let her eyes survey the dancefloor where Georgiana, Thomas, Jane, and Mr Bingley still were engaged in a dance, all looking merry and bright. Looking neither merry nor bright on the other hand was Mr Darcy who stood in the corner, scowling.
Elizabeth shook her head. It was such a shame that a man with good breeding, wealth, influence—and dare she say it—good looks should be so very cantankerous. For if he were just a little more amiable, there might be something to him. As it stood, Elizabeth could not wait for the day Mr Darcy mounted his high horse and rode out of Meryton forever.
***
When the dance ended, Thomas approached her, his eyebrows knitted together.
“I saw you conversing with Mr Wickham. Pray, what did he say? Did he complain about my interrupting his conversation?”
Elizabeth shook her head while, up ahead, the next dance began. The remaining group had stayed on the dancefloor for the reel, with Lydia now paired with one of the Lucas boys, Georgiana Darcy with Mr Denny, and Bingley with Charlotte Lucas. Jane was in the arms of Mr Hurst, though she was likely less than enthused about this circumstance, she did not let it show. Her countenance was as pleasant and polite as always.
