Page 3 of Wickham Likes 'Em Young
“I believe our new neighbours finally deigned to come,” he said. He did this funny thing with his eyes, raising them up high and then to one side, as if he was laughing at all the fuss that had been made over the Bingleys.
Elizabeth laughed in recognition of the humour of Meryton’s eagerness to speculate about new folks. She said, “I honestly feel sorry for Mr Bingley and his family and friends. Do you suppose they will be mobbed?—”
She interrupted herself as she saw several men, Sir William in the lead, surging towards the entrance of the assembly room.
Mr Lucas and Elizabeth both laughed softly before the dance separated them for several seconds. She knew that he was likely thinking what she was thinking:Yes, indeed, the Bingleys will be mobbed.
When the dance had barely ended, Elizabeth found her arm firmly clutched by her mother, who was sweeping all five Bennet girls towards the little knot of people around—well, Elizabeth was not a tall woman, so she was not positive who they were approaching, but it was only rational to suppose it was the Bingley party.
Suddenly, someone whowastall apparently straightened from a bow amongst the cluster of people. She saw a face she remembered shockingly well, considering she had not seen it for almost a decade: it was the handsome man with dark brown eyes. The man who had hastened to remove his inebriated friendbefore he could speak to Jane. The man who had looked so apologetically into Elizabeth’s eyes.
Elizabeth started with recognition, and she could not help smiling widely. He already had a carefully polite non-expression on his face, but when his eyes met hers, a haughty mask dropped over him. She felt a tiny jolt of disappointment if the man who seemed everything good when she was a little girl had grown up to be arrogant…but….
She still kept her eyes locked onto his, and just as she had seen so much in his eyes all those years ago, despite being separated by more than a yard, she now saw confusion and vulnerability in his gaze.
When Elizabeth was swept into introductions, she kept her friendly smile. Sir William did the honours, and she bobbed a curtsey to the entire group. She flicked her gaze over Mr and Miss Bingley, Mr and Mrs Hurst, and then allowed her eyes to go back to the dark-haired, dark-eyed man, who was apparently Mr Darcy.
A part of her brain noted that Mr Bingley seemed struck by Jane’s beauty—of course! There was no surprise there!—and that same noticing part realised that her younger sisters had all scampered away after the introductions. Mr Darcy looked away from Elizabeth, but then his eyes returned to hers.
His face still seemed…perhaps cold? His lips were slightly downturned, as if he did not like anything he saw. But those expressive eyes….
Elizabeth said softly to the man, “I never met you before tonight, but I have always thought that you once saved my sister Jane and me.”
Mr Darcy flinched in shock. He asked, “Saved you?”
“I was just a little girl, visiting my relatives in London, and one of the servants who had charge of my sister and me in Hyde Park became violently ill, and the other servant, herbrother, rushed to care for her and briefly abandoned us by the Grosvenor Gate. And a man who seemed…in his cups, I supposed at the time…began to approach us. I was worried, but you and another man swooped in to redirect your friend. I was ever so grateful to both of you, and you even seemed to be saying you were sorry for our fright with the expression in your eyes.”
Mr Darcy asked, “How long ago was this?”
“More than nine years ago. I believe you may have been walking away from the Coach and Horses, and Mr Wickham, I gathered from what the other man said, was your inebriated friend’s name.”
Mr Darcy’s oh-so-expressive eyes suddenly flashed with pain. And a bit of anger.
Elizabeth said, “I only meant to thank you; I did not wish to raise any painful memories, and I apologise if I did so.”
She looked down, deciding it was time for her to leave the group. She opened her mouth to say, “Excuse me,” but she never spoke the words, because Mr Darcy asked, “Do you have the next dance free?”
“Oh! Yes.”
“I will find you,” he said; he bowed and went to the refreshment table.
Elizabeth felt confused. She was sorry that she had apparently raised an upsetting memory, and she was surprised that, though she was the proximate cause of negative emotions, she had still been asked to dance.
She noticed that Mrs Hurst was watching her husband determinedly moving into the card room. Elizabeth saw that the woman seemed a bit disappointed to be so promptly deserted, so she smiled in a friendly way and asked, “How do you find Netherfield Park, Mrs Hurst?”
The woman was polite, perhaps even pleased to be addressed, and she declared that the estate was well run, themanor house was surprisingly spacious and elegant, and it was a pleasure to be away from London during the warmest, stickiest, most malodorous months. She seemed ready to continue the conversation, but she was called away to another introduction, and she smiled at Elizabeth as she said, “Excuse me.”
Elizabeth noted that Jane was still speaking to Mr Bingley, and that her mother was eagerly trying to be helpful to their fledgling acquaintance and was, thankfully, not quite managing to impede it. Miss Bingley, for some reason, swept an absolutely venomous glance at Elizabeth before she turned away to meet the Gouldings.
The second set of dancing was still under way; Elizabeth spotted Charlotte in a nearby group of women, and she stepped towards her friend.
She heard a young man’s voice: “Miss Elizabeth!”
She turned to see the young man who lived on an estate between Meryton and Hatfield. He only attended Meryton events occasionally, and she had to search her memory for his name, but it was only a second before she said, “Good evening, Mr Milton.”
He gave her an awkward bow and said with his usual shy smile, “May I have the next dance?”
“I am already promised to another,” Elizabeth said with a kind smile. “But I have the following set free.”
