Page 16 of Wickham Likes 'Em Young
Elizabeth smiled, delighted that another gentleman would be vying for her sister’s hand. It made it even less likely that her infatuation with a blond-haired rake would amount to much.
“And you never whispered a word of it,” Elizabeth said with a bright smile. “I look forward to watching you pick between the two.”
At Netherfield, Elizabeth informed the butler that they wished to see Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst. But she was neither surprised nor unhappy that Mr Bingley and Mr Hurst were in the drawing room, as well. Everyone bowed and curtseyed and exchanged greetings. Elizabeth chose a seat nextto Miss Bingley, and of course Mr Bingley showed Jane to the comfortable Windsor chair next to his own.
“Oh, Miss Eliza, it has been too long,” Miss Bingley said with a sneering sort of smile. “I believe I have not seen you since the day before poor Mr Darcy had to rush back to Pemberley to deal with his emergency.”
Smiling with mirth at Miss Bingley’s insincerity, Elizabeth said, “I believe you are correct. Have you any idea how the repairs are going in the Pemberley mines?”
Miss Bingley narrowed her eyes. “Miss Eliza, You know that Pemberley is a grand estate, do you not?” Her tone sounded quite contemptuous, as if Elizabeth had no idea of what she spoke.
“A grand estate?” Elizabeth repeated with an inquisitive air.
“Yes, dear.” Miss Caroline flashed a wholly superior sort of smile at Elizabeth and expounded at length: “Dear Mr Darcy is the master of one of the largest estates in Derbyshire. It compares to Chatsworth—and you must have heard of that great estate? The manor house is positively palatial, the park is ten miles around, and there are many acres of forest and farmland. I believe that there are 150 or more tenant farms, and of course thousands of people, all told, on the estate, including more than one hundred servants.”
“That is fascinating, Miss Bingley. I imagine you have very much enjoyed visiting Pemberley.”
“I have indeed.” Miss Bingley preened and flashed another self-satisfied smile. “Of course, like most great estates, Pemberley does host tours.Youmay be able to see it someday, perhaps with your relatives fromCheapside.”
Elizabeth did not miss the jibe, but she merely nodded, saying, “That is a distinct possibility, since my Aunt Gardiner grew up in Lambton.”
Miss Bingley’s brow wrinkled, perhaps in puzzlement. She asked, “Your aunt is a gardener? And I do not understand why we are speaking of Lambton all of a sudden.”
Pressing her lips together in an effort not to laugh, Elizabeth clarified, “My aunt’s married surname is Gardiner, and I mentioned Lambton because it is less than five miles from Pemberley.”
“Oh. Well, of course, I stayed in a beautiful set of rooms at Pemberley, not in some rustic town.”
“Indeed.”
“And Pemberley is, as I believe I hinted, the opposite of rustic. It is a majestic mansion with a very idyllic setting. A lake, a stream, fountains and pools, all manner of gardens, a woodland….”
“And two mines,” Elizabeth added.
Miss Bingley seemed ready to contradict her, but the steadiness of Elizabeth’s voice and expression may have been the reason that she paused, looking uncertain.
“And a sawmill,” Elizabeth said.
Miss Bingley now looked wholly sceptical, but she remained silent.
“Actually, Miss Bingley, I have something very important to ask you.”
“You do?”
“Yes. Has Mr Darcy told you about Mr Wickham, who is the son of the old steward of Pemberley?”
Raising her eyes up, Miss Bingley gave the question some thought but then said, “I believe he did. I think I remember the name, because I was thinking that the man sounded positively wicked.”
Elizabeth made certain that her face was very serious as she responded, “Yes, indeed. Wicked Mr Wickham. That is an apt trick to remembering his name.”
“And what, pray tell, is your question? I certainly never met the man. I mean—” Miss Bingley shrugged one shoulder—“he is only the son of a servant.”
“Well, his character matters more to me than his position in society.”
Mrs Hurst, who was sitting nearby, joined in, saying, “Oh, yes, I believe that Mr Wickham turned out very wild indeed.”
Elizabeth could not help but smile to enjoy the alliteration:the wild and wicked Mr Wickham. She explained, “I wanted to mention to you that he is here in Meryton. Or he was, at least, as of yesterday. Given his particular proclivities, I feel we should all be warning our neighbours about his presence.”
Mrs Hurst looked concerned. “I should say that you are correct, Miss Elizabeth. Where did you see him?”
