Page 6 of Wickham Likes 'Em Young
Blowing out the candle, Elizabeth wished her sister a good night, and then turned away to sleep on her side. In an effort to soothe her disordered thoughts, she reminded herself that her beloved sister was more interested in a young man than she had ever been before, and she therefore must have developed intense empathy for that man. If Mr Bingley had truly been discomfited about his friend’s behaviour, it made sense for Jane to think poorly of Mr Darcy.
She supposed.
The afternoon following the assembly, both Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy called at the Bennet’s house. Mrs Bennet immediately pressed the butler to see the men in, and all the ladies rose to their feet and bobbed curtseys to the men’s bows.
“How good of you to call, gentlemen,” Mrs Bennet said. “Would you care for some tea?”
The men politely said no, thank you, but her mother said, “Some lemonade, then.” Elizabeth saw Mr Darcy flinch a bit as her mother screeched, “Hill, Hill, some lemonade, if you please!” Elizabeth blushed in mortification, and she could not help but notice that Mr Bingley and Jane, who were sitting near oneanother in two side chairs, seemed utterly unaware of both the shrieking and the flinching. They looked quite besotted.
“How do you do today?” Mr Darcy asked Elizabeth.
“Very well, sir, I thank you. And you?”
He let a small smile curl his lips, and he said, “Well enough, I suppose. I enjoyed riding with such sunshine as we had this morning.”
Elizabeth smiled in agreement. “Indeed. I am an early riser, and I always appreciate the light and warmth of a clear day for my solitary rambles.”
He looked surprised. Perhaps a bit judgemental, she thought. He asked, “You walk alone?”
There was a pause as they accepted small glasses of lemonade. Elizabeth laid hers aside and answered him, “Yes, I always have walked alone. Of course, I keep to Longbourn lands, excepting the path up to Oakham Mount. That path and the mount itself is partly Longbourn land and partly Netherfield land; but from the top, one can see everything.” She laughed at herself and said, “Well, perhaps not everything in the whole world. Nor of England. Nor of Hertfordshire. But one can see all of three different properties.”
“I see you like to utilise exaggeration, but then you carefully expose said exaggeration to ridicule. Which is it, Miss Elizabeth? Are we to employ exaggeration as a literary device, as Jonathan Swift did, or are we to decry exaggeration everywhere it exists?”
“I enjoy exaggeration as much as anyone, but I did not like the idea of giving you hope that you could spot your home in London from Oakham Mount. I am positive that you would have charged up the hill this minute if I had not revealed the truth.”
“Although I have a house in Town,” Mr Darcy said, “I considerhometo be my estate in Derbyshire. Also, I gather, not visible from Oakham Mount.”
“Derbyshire is definitely not visible. Would you like to walk to Oakham Mount now and see the unexaggerated truth?”
“I always prefer exercise over drawing-room chatter,” he responded. He stood and waited while Elizabeth informed her mother of their destination and then gathered several sisters as chaperones. He allowed Elizabeth to precede him into the foyer, where they all donned their outerwear before setting off.
Elizabeth had little concern about propriety and did not mind a bit that she and Mr Darcy walked faster than her younger sisters, and it was not long before they left them far behind. She pointed out the trail he could take from Netherfield, once they were high enough to see it, in case he ever wanted to walk or ride to Oakham Mountain on his own, and he commented appreciatively on the late-blooming wildflowers that did not grow in Derbyshire. However, their ascent was mostly silent.
Elizabeth was pleased that Mr Darcy had the capacity for such quiet togetherness. She loved to be outdoors in part because she enjoyed the soft sounds of small animals skittering through leaves or digging into soil, the susurration of leaves trembling in the breeze, the melodic bursts from birds, and the rhythmic trills and croaks and whirrs from insects and frogs. Longbourn was quite noisy, generally, and Elizabeth considered it a most irritating flavour of noisiness. She hated when people brought mindless prattle and mean-spirited gossip into nature, as well.
Once they reached the top of the hill, Elizabeth slowly turned around a full circle to enjoy the panorama of forests and fields.
Having enjoyed the all-encompassing view, she turned to look at Mr Darcy. He was watching her with a little, enigmatic smile. She realised that, smiling, he looked very different from the concerned young man she had first seen in London, all those years ago, and also very different from the uncomfortable man she had danced with at the assembly. Smiling, he looked evenmore handsome, which should have been impossible, and of course she smiled back at him.
“It is very pretty here, is it not?” she asked.
“Very beautiful indeed,” Mr Darcy said. She saw that he was still studying her more than the landscape, so she pointed out the small park connected with Lucas Lodge, the forest that formed part of the boundary between Netherfield and Longbourn, and other features that could help a newcomer orient himself.
Eventually Lydia and Kitty arrived, squabbling over whose bonnet was prettier, and Mary trudged up the last few yards with a very judgmental look that she swept over her bickering sisters as well as over Elizabeth—likely because she had dared to disappear from her chaperone’s sight for a number of minutes.
“I suppose you now see why I generally walk alone, sir,” Elizabeth whispered.
He chuckled but then became serious. He said, “I have a much younger sister. I have always tried to protect her, but this past year I neglected to be as careful as I should have been, and I nearly lost her. I wish the world was a safer place for young women, and girls, but….”
He did not finish his lament, but Elizabeth understood his point and murmured, “We cannot always count on Mr Darcy and his cousin Richard saving us from every iteration of Mr Wickham?”
“Unfortunately, that is the truth,” he answered.
“But still, I walk alone on my father’s estate, not a London street nor the wilderness.”
He nodded; then, offering his arm, he asked, “Shall we?”
Elizabeth took his arm as they moved to descend the trail. During portions of the descent, they had to walk single file, but whenever they achieved a flatter, wider trail, he offered his arm again, and Elizabeth gladly took it.
