“I suppose nothing, Wickham, but I observe, and what I have observed is sufficient to make me cautious, for I cannot pretend ignorance of your habits, nor remain indifferent to your presence in a house where your influence may extend beyond what is either proper or safe, and where its consequences may not be confined to yourself.”
Wickham assumed the air of a man unjustly suspected, and turned a look toward Darcy in which injured innocence was not without a trace of submission.
“I am at a loss to understand your meaning,” the clergyman said, “unless you refer to my desire to conduct myself with propriety in a situation which, I must remind you, I did not obtain without legitimate recommendation, and which I have no intention of abusing.”
“You may spare yourself that defence, for I am already aware of the means by which you have advanced yourself, Wickham, and I am not disposed to dispute what cannot now be altered, but I will not overlook the use you may intend to make of it, nor allow that use to proceed without attention.”
“Then I must conclude that you suspect me of intentions which you cannot prove, and which I should be at a loss to justify even if I understood them as you appear to do, for I cannot answer for accusations that have not been clearly expressed.”
“Understand this, Wickham, for I will not speak twice in the same manner.” Darcy’s tone, though still restrained, lost what little flexibility it had retained. “If your intentions here are not entirely blameless, you will find yourself very much mistaken in the consequences you expect to command, and equally mistaken if you suppose that those consequences will be left to your direction.”
“Are you offering me advice, Mr. Darcy, or must I consider your words as something more decisive, for I should be sorry to misunderstand you in a matter which appears to concern me so nearly, and in which clarity might prevent unnecessary disagreement.”
Wickham cast upon Darcy a glance at once submissive and calculating, as though yielding outwardly while reserving his judgement.
“Call it what you please, but I recommend that you treat it as a certainty rather than a conjecture, for any attempt to act against the interests of those under my protection will be met with a response you may find less manageable than you suppose, and less easily evaded than you may expect.”
Wickham hesitated—not from want of reply, but from the necessity of selecting one that might serve him without committing him—while he measured the extent to which Darcy’s words were intended as warning or declaration, and whether they might be safely resisted, or must be, at least for the present, endured.
“I shall, of course, take your warning into consideration, Mr. Darcy, for I have no wish to place myself in opposition where harmony may be preserved, and I trust that my conduct will, in time, appear less objectionable than you are presently inclined to think, and perhaps more consistent with the expectations of my office than you now suppose.”
“See that it does, for I shall not rely upon expectation where vigilance is required, and you may depend upon my observing closely whatever passes within this house, so that no uncertainty may exist as to my awareness of your actions, nor any delay in addressing them.”
Darcy regarded him steadily for a moment longer, as though determining whether anything further need be said, and then, with no concession beyond what civility required, withdrew, leaving Wickham to consider not merely that he had been warned, but that he had been opposed by a will neither uncertain nor easily diverted, and that whatever course he pursued henceforward must be undertaken with greater caution than he had at first intended.
***
Mr. Wickham remained where Mr. Darcy had left him, though not in the same composure, for the stillness he now assumed was not that of ease, but of calculation restrained, as though each movement had been suspended until his thoughts could be brought again under command. He did not immediately turn, nor seek the comfort of motion, but stood instead with his hand resting lightly upon the back of the chair, his gaze fixed upon no particular object, while he reconsidered, with a precisionsharpened by opposition, the ground upon which he now stood, and the degree to which it might still be held without alteration.
Darcy’s interference, though unwelcome, had not been wholly unexpected; yet its immediacy, and the manner in which it had been delivered—without hesitation, without ambiguity, and with a resolution that admitted neither evasion nor delay—required a reconsideration of methods which, until that moment, had appeared sufficient. That Darcy had either observed him or been informed did not surprise Wickham, nor did his judgement greatly concern him; but the prospect of active opposition, rather than mere suspicion, altered the situation in a way he could not prudently ignore.
He moved at last, though slowly, and with no outward sign of agitation, crossing to the window where the rain, now reduced to a finer and more intermittent fall, traced faint and irregular lines upon the glass, as though the world itself had withdrawn into indistinctness, leaving him, for a moment, in possession of a solitude better suited to reflection than to action. There was no advantage, Wickham knew, in meeting force with force, nor in attempting to counter Darcy directly, where superiority of position and certainty of purpose were already established; and he had no inclination to hazard what he had gained by engaging in a contest where the terms were not of his choosing.
It was not, therefore, by resistance, but by adjustment, that his advantage must be preserved; and in this respect, he could not but perceive that the essential point lay not in Rosings itself, but in what might be drawn from it, and secured elsewhere, beyond the immediate reach of interference. The confidence of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, once engaged, was not merely a present convenience, but a resource capable of extension, and he had already observed, with sufficient clarity, that her concern forher daughter’s future might be directed, with little effort, toward objects which she did not fully understand, but which she might readily be persuaded to support.
Miss Anne de Bourgh’s fortune, though not immediately at his disposal, represented a sum of no inconsiderable consequence, and one which, if properly applied, might furnish the means of relieving him from those embarrassments which his present income could never hope to address. That such funds must be approached indirectly was evident; yet he had no doubt that, under the pretext of prudence, security, and advantage, her mother might be induced to consider investments which, while ostensibly formed for the benefit of her daughter, would, in practice, be directed according to his own judgement, and managed under his influence.
He smiled slightly, though without warmth, as he considered how readily the language of caution might be employed in the service of risk, and how easily concern for stability might be converted into permission for experiment, when properly framed and confidently presented. London offered, in this respect, every advantage: distance, obscurity, and the appearance of respectability, combined with opportunities sufficiently numerous that failure, if it occurred, might be concealed within the general uncertainty of such undertakings, while success, even if partial, would be attributed to foresight rather than fortune.
There was, moreover, a further advantage in removing the centre of his operations from Rosings itself, for while his position here might be observed, and his conduct scrutinised, what passed at a distance would not so easily attract attention, nor be so readily connected with his influence. If Darcy chose to watch him, he might do so; but he could not followevery consequence, nor prevent every arrangement, and it was precisely in that interval between intention and effect that Wickham had always found his greatest advantage.
The essential point, therefore, was not to provoke, but to proceed; not to defend what might be questioned, but to secure what could not easily be recalled; and if, in the meantime, his conduct at Rosings were moderated, his manner rendered less conspicuous, and his attentions more carefully distributed, there was no reason to suppose that suspicion, however active, could be converted into proof before the principal object had been obtained.
Wickham turned from the window at last, his resolution no longer uncertain, and though the opposition he had encountered was not lightly dismissed, it had served rather to define his course than to alter it, for he was not a man to abandon advantage merely because it had been observed, nor to relinquish a design because it required more skill to complete than he had at first intended. If Darcy watched, he would appear compliant; if he questioned, he would be answered; and if he interfered, he would find that what had already been set in motion could not be so easily undone.
In this manner, without haste and without display, Wickham resumed that command of himself upon which his success had always depended, and prepared to act, not with the openness which invites opposition, but with the quiet persistence which, once begun, is seldom checked until it has either succeeded or become too deeply established to be removed without consequence.
CHAPTER7
Lady Catherine de Bourgh sat in a high-backed chair, her posture perfectly erect, as though the very form of her person were an assertion of rank no circumstance could diminish, and her keen, searching eyes moved with deliberate slowness across the room, not in expectation merely, but in possession, as if all that entered her presence must first submit to her judgement before being permitted the courtesy of notice.
The door opened with measured restraint, and Mr. Collins entered with that mixture of solemn importance and visible anxiety which rendered his approach at once studied and uncertain, for though each step had evidently been considered beforehand, he could not wholly command the impression he produced, and his obsequious smile, intended to convey ease, betrayed instead his eagerness to secure approval which he knew must be earned, and might yet be withheld.
“Your ladyship, I am most deeply sensible of the distinction conferred upon me by this interview, and I should think myself wanting in gratitude, as well as deficient in respect, were I to depart from Rosings without first presenting my acknowledgements for the condescension and attention with which I have been honoured during my stay, and which I shall not soon forget.”
Lady Catherine regarded him without immediate reply, her expression composed, though not encouraging, as if she chose to measure the adequacy of his address before determining whether it merited further notice.
“Mr. Collins, I am informed that you and your relations intend to quit Rosings tomorrow, and I do not suppose that your departure has been resolved upon without sufficient consideration, though I cannot say that your presence has been of a nature to render its continuance particularly necessary,” she said calmly, her tone neither harsh nor indulgent, but marked by that peculiar authority which rendered even indifference a form of judgement.
