Bingley laughed and gestured with his glass. “You ought to ask her about that. The last time I saw a woman glare at a man the way she stared you down was when Lady Catherine found out about—”
“Yes, yes,” Darcy interrupted testily. “She may not see the merits of the arrangement yet, but we have a year.”
“Hmm. A great deal can happen in a year.”
Darcy set his empty glass aside. “A great deal has happened in just two months.”
April, 1813
Notallfacetsofher new position were disagreeable. Very few, in fact. Rather, everything but her employer himself suited her perfectly. Even Mr Darcy was a good enough man, but she had never met anyone quite so provoking. Most encounters ended in some clash of wit and will, and she never could quite determine whether he found it sportive or merely irritating. For that matter, she could not decide which it was for herself.
One of the most charming qualities of her position was that each Sunday, Elizabeth was permitted the entire day with her mother and sisters. For one day out of seven, she would put aside the disingenuous mourning garb and return to a semblance of her old self: Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn. On such days, the book room often called to her, and she would retreat there for hours at a time with something she had borrowed from Pemberley’s library.
On this day, however, the stirrings of spring tingled in her limbs, and she determined to make what she could of the neglected rose hedge bordering the front of the house. With a sharp pruning knife in hand and wearing her oldest dress, she appointed the whole of the afternoon for her task. She had been happily working nigh an hour when a masculine voice interrupted her.
“I beg your pardon,” said a very agreeable-looking young man. “Would you by any chance know if the mistress is about?”
“Of course, I know,” Elizabeth returned. She watched him cautiously and clipped another thorny stem.
He smiled—a winsome expression if she had ever seen one. “Perhaps I beg the wrong question. If your mistress is about, would you ask her if she can spare a moment for her brother-in-law?”
“I am afraid I cannot ask such a question, lest I be accused of madness.”
“Madness?” he asked innocently.
“Indeed, for when one talks to oneself, it makes others uneasy.”
“Ah!” He doffed his hat. “Then I do have the pleasure of addressing my sister-in-law? I must beg your forgiveness. My name is George Wickham, and I presume you must be…?”
“Elizabeth Wickham. Charmed.”
“The honour is entirely mine, madam. I was very sorry to hear of poor Bernard’s death. I was in Brighton, you see, and word was slow to reach me. I thought to look in on matters and fancy my surprise when I learned that my good brother had left for me a sister. I trust you are bearing up well in your grief?”
“Well enough, thank you,” she answered. “May we offer you something after your travels, sir?”
“No! Goodness, no, thank you. I would not wish to intrude on a widow’s home. Ah, but the old house does look fine. I see a deal has been done since last I was here. You are to be commended, madam, for effecting such a change.”
Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder. “Mr Darcy’s men did most of the repairs.”
Mr Wickham looked grave when she turned back to him. “I see. Of course, it would only be his duty.” He offered a forced-looking smile. “Always duty with Darcy. I am sure he was doing his duty by my poor brother as well.”
“I cannot speak for that,” she confessed.
“Of course, you cannot. You would have only heard what Darcy wished—but no! I swore to myself that I would not speak ill of the man. It is a time for mending the past, is it not? And just when I thought I had no family left, I am pleased to find I was mistaken. I hope you will think of me as a friend, Mrs Wickham—indeed, it does sound odd for me to call you thus.”
Elizabeth looked into the hedge and cut another stem. “As you are my brother, you may call me Elizabeth.”
“How very kind! And you may call me George if you wish. I am staying at the inn at Lambton, and I hope I will see you often while I remain in town. I had other business in the area,” he added in answer to the question in her eyes. “I expect to be some days at least.”
“I hope it is nothing serious,” she replied neutrally.
“Well, now that depends on the other party. As you are acquainted with him, I expect you know just how obtuse and trying he can be. There I am again! Forgive me, Elizabeth, I shall not speak slander when I came to make a friend. Have you met many of the neighbours?”
She shook her head. “No, for I am most often with Miss Darcy, and she does not generally receive guests.”
“Ah, dear Georgiana! I would ask you to give her my greetings, but she might find that awkward if her brother were to learn of it. Well, I should say, take care to make the acquaintance of Mrs Brown, just a mile to the east. She is but a farmer’s widow, but she makes the finest rum cake you will ever taste. Where she gets her rum, I shall not ask! And if you can, be certain to meet with Mrs Godfrey over in East Orchards. You will not find a more generous soul.”
“I thank you, sir.” Elizabeth dipped her head graciously.
