Page 14 of Wickham Likes 'Em Young
Her first step was visiting her father. She informed him of the long-ago sighting of an inebriated Mr Wickham, and the gentlemanly behaviour at that time by Mr Darcy and his cousin. She related to him almost everything that Mr Darcy had told her of Mr Wickham, and why his cousin and he had decided to issue general warnings about the man. And then she explained that this degenerate had come to Meryton for a visit of unknown duration and was even now, likely, chatting and sipping tea with the Philipses.
“Now, sir,” she said, “you have a parlour full of giggling daughters wondering about this angelic looking man who is, apparently, more demon than angel. I believe that you should ensure that everyone understands the danger he could pose to us all, if he lingers in the area, and that you should give an order to be polite but distant. And of course, as soon as may be, you should alert Mr Philips to his character.”
Her father sighed, and he began to carefully clean his spectacles. But Elizabeth was not going to relent on this one; she fixed a firm stare on him until he stood and made his way to the door. “I do not enjoy scolding your sisters when they have not done anything wrong,” he muttered.
“I assure you, it is much more pleasant than scolding them after the entire family has been ruined because they did not know enough to protect themselves.”
Elizabeth was happy that her father did a creditable job with his warning. He gathered everyone together, including Mrs Bennet; addressed them solemnly; and specified that his information about Mr Wickham came from two sources He did not mention that one of those “sources” was eleven-year-old Lizzy. He related the list of Mr Wickham’s transgressions in its entirety, but then he returned to and emphasised that the miscreant ruined young women and younger girls.
“If one of you is ruined,” Mr Bennet said sternly, “then it is almost certain that all of you are ruined. That means it will be almost impossible for any of you to marry, and you will likely have to become lady’s companions, or perhaps Lizzy or Mary could be governesses—although you might not even be allowed to find such occupations as these, because of your family’s scandal. None of you will establish your own homes or have children. And I hate to say such an awful thing so bluntly, but if one of you should ever allow yourself to be alone with this wicked Wickham fellow, and he ruins you, there will be even lesschoice for you than for your sisters. I do not have the money to bribe Mr Wickham to do the honourable thing and marry, and he may just abandon you at the nearest house of ill repute.”
Elizabeth watched her mother dissolve into tears, waving her handkerchief in the air and protesting quietly, “Mr Bennet! Oh, Mr Bennet!”
Her sisters looked deeply shocked, and Elizabeth wondered if Kitty and Jane would ever speak again.
Her father said, “Mr Wickham is never to enter this house.” He nodded to his daughters, and as he turned to head back to his bookroom, he murmured to Elizabeth, “Please inform Hill of my new rule about Mr Wickham never being allowed here.”
“I will, Papa. Thank you for doing this.”
He flicked his eyes up and down in what looked like aggravation, but he said, “You are a good girl. I am certain your sisters will follow your example.”
His bookroom door closed decisively, and Elizabeth had the feeling that she would not be welcome in her father’s refuge for the rest of the day, at least, perhaps a week.
But as she went to discharge her duty to tell Longbourn’s housekeeper about the disreputable Mr Wickham, and her father’s orders to bar the estate to the man, she felt confident that they would be safe from his—as Mr Darcy had said—“God-given charms.”
Having such confidence in her father’s lecture and her sisters’ understanding of the danger posed by Mr Wickham made the shock of seeing Jane alone with Mr Wickham the very next day much, much worse. The two were standing in a somewhatsecluded meadow outside of Meryton, and they were both smiling as they stared into each other’s blue eyes.
“Jane!” she cried as she hurried to join them. Jane merely turned towards her with her serene smile, and Mr Wickham bowed with genteel-seeming manners. Neither stepped further from one another; neither acted as if they were doing anything wrong. Realising that she probably should not shriek like a banshee, drawing attention and probable censure from others, Elizabeth curtseyed and waited until she was quite close. She then said in careful tones, “Jane, Mama sent me to find you on urgent business”
Jane looked blandly into Elizabeth’s eyes, probably not believing her for a minute, but she did farewell Mr Wickham and set off for Longbourn with Elizabeth by her side.
When they were far from both Mr Wickham and Meryton, Elizabeth hissed, “What were you doing, speaking alone withhim. Did you not hear what Papa said?”
“I believe that Papa was misinformed about Mr Wickham’s character.” Jane’s voice was as lilting as ever, and her smile as placid. Elizabeth had always loved those things about Jane, but at the moment she felt as if she would go mad if her dearest sister did not drop the sweetness-and-light act.
“How do you suppose thatyoucould know Mr Wickham’s character?” Elizabeth asked her. “You only know what he is revealing to you at the moment, what he is saying right now. Should we not believe, over what you know of him after a few minutes of conversation, what we have been informed of him by someone who has known him his entire life?”
“Oh, but relying on Mr Darcy’s account is very foolish. I informed Mr Wickham that we had all met Mr Darcy, and that he had given us a very negative report about his past and character. When I said that, Mr Wickham looked so very hurt, so sad. He was everything gentlemanlike, so decent. He did nottake revenge by insulting Mr Darcy, but he did tell me that Mr Darcy had wronged him out of jealousy. You see, Mr Wickham was the godson of Mr Darcy’s father, and that wise gentleman preferred him over his own son.”
“And you believe this unlikely preference because Mr Wickham says so? You know that Mr Darcy is an honourable gentleman. Why would Mr Bingley choose Mr Darcy to be his best friend, if he werenot? Who speaks to Mr Wickham’s good character? Only Mr Wickham himself.”
“Oh, Lizzy, you just love to debate, do you not?” Jane kept smiling, and Elizabeth wanted to scream.
Thinking quickly, Elizabeth checked to be certain that they were very much alone on the path. They were on Longbourn land, at this point, but quite far from the house. If they moved just a few yards away from the path, they would be on a little hillock and could easily see if anyone approached. Elizabeth wanted to hear what Wickham had said to Jane without the chance of being overheard.
Guiding her sister to the hillock, and tamping down the guilt she felt for being insincere with her beloved sister, Elizabeth said, “Jane, maybe I have misunderstood Mr Wickham’s character. Can you please tell me everything that he told you? Especially the parts about Mr Darcy.”
Jane repeated the things she had already explained, the things that Elizabeth had heard from Mr Darcy: that Mr Wickham was the son of Pemberley’s steward and the godson of Mr Darcy’s father, and so Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham had grown up playing together as boys. Jane said, “The Mr Darcy we have met was very solemn and reserved, even as a young boy, so it was quite natural for his father to feel closer to Mr Wickham, who was always able to talk about everything, to show his love, and to cheer people up with his smile and amusing stories.”
That part seemed very possible to Elizabeth, but when Jane went on to explain that, the more the Darcy patriarch showed his affection for the Wickham boy, the more jealousy his son felt…well, Elizabeth felt reasonably certain that this part was either a lie or a delusion. It seemed more likely, with the two boys growing up in such close proximity and with many of the same advantages, that Mr Wickham resented the ways in which they were not equal. Certainly the servants of Pemberley, for example, would treat the son of their master, who was the heir, differently than they would treat the son of the steward. Mr Darcy’s identification of the resentment and jealousy felt by Wickham as a boy made much more sense.
But Elizabeth nodded and encouraged Jane to continue to share Mr Wickham’s tale. “When old Mr Darcy died, and the Mr Darcy we have met became the master of Pemberley, Mr Wickham travelled to Derbyshire to receive his inheritance, whatever it may be, from his godfather’s will. It was shockingly little—only a thousand pounds, and of course Mr Darcy inherited an estate that brings in ten thousand pounds every single year, so that is such a vast difference—but there was another part of the will that gave Mr Wickham a very lucrative living for a nearby parish. But—and this is truly horrible, and I am certain it will give you pain—Mr Darcy denied Mr Wickham the living! He refused to honour his own father’s wishes and reduced the opportunity for his childhood friend to have the means to live as he had been brought up.”
“And so now he is an assistant of a barrister. Does this mean that Mr Wickham is studying law?”
“I know nothing about that,” Jane said. “But are you not appalled at Mr Darcy’s refusal to grant Mr Wickham the living?”
Elizabeth doubted Mr Wickham’s story, of course, but she did want to ask Mr Darcy for the truth; she knew that most lies have a tiny kernel of truth in them. She asked Jane, “Ifthe provision was in the will, Mr Darcy could not just refuse. Perhaps there were conditions Mr Wickham did not meet. For example, did he take orders?”
