Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. “Odd. I thought it was worse toward… well, never mind. I am sure Mr Hopper knows his business.”
“Oh, one would hope. But I certainly hope we have no more rain for a while, for the parishioners claim the water is overflowing into their fields, and they fear for their crops.”
“That’s terrible,” Jane interjected, her face creased with concern. “Surely something can be done?”
Elizabeth sighed. “If only it were that simple. The problem is the main waterway branching off from the River Mery, which runs right through Netherfield. If Mr Hopper says the dikes are all holding, then something more must be done. It would require a substantial undertaking to modify or control the water’s course. What landlord wouldauthorize that to save someone else’s property when the flooding is likely to be only seasonal?”
“Well, perhaps this new tenant, Mr Wickham, will be more amenable to helping than the previous one,” Mrs Goulding suggested hopefully.
Elizabeth was about to respond when the sound of hooves pulling out of sucking mud drew Elizabeth’s attention. A handsome bay slogged through the mire nearby, with his legs and belly splashed with muck but his step bright and eager. Mr Wickham sat astride, his tall figure and fashionable top hat cutting a dashing silhouette against the morning sun.
Elizabeth’s breath caught for a moment as Mr Wickham’s eyes met hers. He dismounted and approached with a warm smile, bowing gracefully to the small group.
“Miss Elizabeth, Miss Bennet, Mrs Goulding. What a delightful surprise to encounter you on this fine morning.”
Elizabeth dipped into a small curtsy, acutely aware of the mud clinging to her hem. “Mr Wickham, how do you do?”
“Very well, thank you, Miss Elizabeth,” he replied. “Though I must say, the state of our roads leaves much to be desired. I hope you have not found the mud too troublesome?”
Elizabeth laughed lightly. “I fear my petticoats may never recover.”
Mr Wickham’s expression turned sympathetic. “A tragedy, indeed. Perhaps we should petition for a fleet of boats so the ladies in town may navigate the streets without ruining their hems.”
“What an excellent notion. However, I am not certain how we would manage to steer them between the shops. I doubt many ladies have had experience rowing.”
“A fair point,” Mr Wickham conceded with a chuckle. “We shall have to put our heads together and devise a more practical solution.”
Jane, who had been listening to their exchange with a gentle smile, interjected, “Mr Wickham, we hope you are settling in well at Netherfield.”
“Most kind of you to inquire, Miss Bennet,” he replied warmly. “I am indeed. The house is splendid, and the grounds are beyond compare. I look forward to exploring them more thoroughly once I have put more pressing concerns behind me.”
“Oh, the grounds at Netherfield are lovely,” Elizabeth agreed. “Especially the walk along the stream. Though…” She hesitated. “I imagine it is rather swollen at present.” That comment earned her a nudge in the back from Jane, who likely felt that such talkwas not the purview of ladies, but Elizabeth was rewarded when a shadow of concern flickered across Mr Wickham’s face.
“Yes, I have noticed that. It is something I intend to look into further. But come, let us speak of more cheerful matters. How fares your family, Miss Elizabeth? Your father is well, I hope?”
As Elizabeth began to reply, she was interrupted by the shop door opening behind them, and Lydia tumbled out, followed closely by Kitty and Mary. Lydia’s eyes widened with delight upon seeing Mr Wickham.
“Oh! Mr Wickham!” she exclaimed, her voice pitched higher than usual. “How fortunate we are to meet you here!”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to chastise her sister’s exuberance, but Mr Wickham smoothly interceded.
“Indeed, the fortune is all mine, Miss Lydia,” he said, his tone kind but not overly familiar. “I see you have made some purchases. Might I be permitted to admire your selections?”
Lydia thrust her package forward eagerly. “Oh yes! Look at this lovely ribbon. Isn’t it divine?”
Mr Wickham examined the ribbon with what appeared to be genuine interest. “A very fine choice. The colour will suit you admirably, I’m sure.”
He then turned to Kitty and Mary, giving each of them his full attention as they shyly displayed their own purchases. Elizabeth watched, impressed by his ability to make each of her sisters feel valued without further encouraging impropriety. If only Papa had mastered that talent, perhaps his daughters would not so readily make spectacles of themselves in their quest for male attention.
When he complimented Mary on the new sheet music she was clutching with her other parcels, suggesting that he would be delighted to hear her play someday, Elizabeth felt a warmth spread through her chest. That was probably the first time any gentleman had paid her sister such an honour.
It was hard to tear her eyes from him. The way the morning light caught his profile, the gentle timbre of his laugh, the grace with which he held himself - all of it combined to create an image of gallantry that was hard to resist. When he finally took his leave, bowing once more to the ladies, she felt an inexplicable pang of disappointment. She could not help but watch until he was out of sight, his tall figure cutting through the bustling street with easy confidence.
“Well!” Lydia sighed. “Isn’t he just the most handsome man you’ve ever seen?”
Elizabeth turned to admonish her sister but found herself unable to entirely disagree. Instead, she simply said, “Come along, girls. We should be getting home.”
“Did you see theway Mr Wickham looked at me when I showed him my new ribbon?” Lydia gushed, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.
