Page 5 of Compromise & Consequence
“Indeed,” replied Wickham. “His estate there is a noble one. You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that head than myself, for I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from my infancy.”
Both Jane and Elizabeth looked at each other, eyes widened in surprise.
“You may be surprised, Miss Bennet,” said Wickham with a slight nod toward Jane, “at such an assertion after seeing the frigid manner of our greeting yesterday.”
“I admit, sir, I did not notice.”
Here Jane blushed, and Elizabeth knew very well her cousin hadn’t noticed anything beyond Mr. Bingley. Mr. Darcy could have jumped off his stallion and danced the whirling dervish, and she still would not have seen anything beyond the amiable gentleman from Netherfield. Mr. Wickham frowned. Elizabeth had an inkling the conversation was not going as planned for the handsome officer.
“He is not at all liked in Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted with his pride,” she said to test the waters.
“Something which does not happen very often.” A sly smile slid across Mr. Wickham’s face, and then his features smoothed once more. “The world is blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his high and imposing manners, and sees him only as he chooses to be seen.”
“I like to think we, and our neighbors, judge a man by his character and not by wealth and property alone.”
“I wonder whether he is likely to be in this part of the country much longer.”
Although Elizabeth found this an odd thing to say, she responded politely with, “My sister and I were in his company for a week, and at the time, I heard nothing of his going away.”
“That is too bad. We are not on friendly terms, and it always gives me pain to meet him. His father, the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed, and I can never be in company withthisMr. Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a thousand tender recollections.”
Further discovery came to a halt when another officer joined them, and Mr. Wickham began to speak on more general topics, Meryton, the neighborhood, the society, appearing highly pleased with all that he had encountered so far.
“Whatever made you choose the militia, Mr. Wickham?” Jane asked when it was just the three of them again.
“The prospect of constant society and good society was my chief inducement. I knew the militia to be a most respectable, agreeable corps, and my friend Denny further tempted me with his account of their present quarters and the very great attention and excellent acquaintance Meryton had procured them.”
“We are glad our little community is so well thought of.”
“My spirits will not bear solitude. I must have employment and society. Military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have now made it eligible. The church ought to have been my profession, and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living had it pleased the gentleman we were speaking of earlier.”
“Indeed!”
“Yes, the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. He was my godfather and excessivelyattached to me, but when the living fell open two years ago, it was given elsewhere by his son.”
“Good heavens!” cried Elizabeth. “Why did you not seek legal redress?”
At first, she felt judicious anger toward the arrogant man from Derbyshire who had withheld a valuable living from his father’s godson, but then… Mr. Wickham hedged his response.
“There was such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from law. A man of honor could not have doubted the intention, but Mr. Darcy did.”
Nothing ironclad was written down, just hopeful words of a man who liked his godson. There was a myriad of reasons Mr. Darcy did not give the living to Mr. Wickham. For one, both men were of the same age, putting Mr. Wickham at around twenty-six or twenty-seven when the position of rector became available. What had he been doing up until that time? Only a fool would wait around for a living to become vacant. If the rector was in good health or not that old, he could remain in that position for up to fifty-plus years. None of this made any sense.
She chose not to confront Mr. Wickham with her reasoning and instead said, “That must have been very disappointing for you.”
“It has been, but until I can forget his father, I can never defy or expose him.”
“But what could have been his motive?” she mused after a pause, thinking he had just done that very thing, “What could have induced him to behave so cruelly toward his own father’s godson?”
“A thorough, determined dislike of me which I cannot but attribute in some measure to jealousy. He has not the temperament to bear the sort of preference which was oftengiven me.”
“I will be the first to admit I had not thought Mr. Darcy so bad as this. Granted, I have always suspected him of despising his fellow creatures in general.”
“Lizzy,” Jane cautioned. “Mr. Darcy has always acted like a gentleman. It would be best if you did not throw it about that he does not behave with great circumspection. I believe he is a quiet man. Maybe even shy.”
“I will soften my words, just for you dearest Jane, but,” she continued, “I do remember his boasting one day at Netherfield, of the implacability of his resentments, of his having an unforgiving temper.”
“I cannot be neutral on this subject,” replied Wickham, “We were born in the same parish and the greatest part of our youth was passed together. My father was highly esteemed by the elder Mr. Darcy, a most intimate, confidential friend as well as head steward of his estate. Immediately before my father’s death, Mr. Darcy gave him a voluntary promise of providing for me, I am convinced he felt it to be as much a debt of gratitude to him as of affection to myself.”
