“Rumours say Mr Bingley is hosting a ball. Perhaps that is why Darcy ran away. He would do anything to avoid dancing,” he attempted to joke, and Elizabeth returned a forced smile.
“Or perhaps he has some business related to his estate or his sister. I hear he is as good a landlord as he is a brother,” Elizabeth said.
“Yes, perhaps…”
“I assume you are acquainted with Miss Darcy?” she enquired.
“Very much so. I have known her since she was born. She was a sweet, lovely child, and she loved me very much. But she grew up to be as proud and arrogant as her brother.”
Elizabeth gazed at him warily. “Did she? But I heard she is about fifteen years old, the same age as my sister Lydia. I wonder how proud and arrogant she could be at that age.”
“Well, she is, especially with those beneath her. Darcy must have taught her well.”
“Have you seen her recently?”
“No…yes, this summer, but only briefly.”
“I see…”
“Speaking about the ball, I hope you will grant me the favour of a set, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Gladly, Mr Wickham.”
He then departed, while Elizabeth experienced another moment of confusion. Mr Wickham’s description of Miss Darcy was completely different from her brother’s; one of the two men was either lying or was a poor judge of character.
***
Days passed, and Mr Bennet finished reading Mr Darcy’s books; he loaned them to Elizabeth and Mary, wondering when Mr Darcy would return with more, but there was no news about the gentleman.
From one of their usual visits to Meryton, Lydia and Kitty returned in the company of Mr Denny and Mr Wickham.
At their entrance, Jane was working on her embroidery, while Elizabeth was reading by the window, with Mr Ash sleeping on her lap. The two officers bowed politely to the ladies, then Mr Ash suddenly jumped to his feet, arched his back, and began to hiss and spit at them. Before anyone could intervene, Mr Ash jumped towards the two men, but he landed on a chair, then fell to the ground.
“What on earth…?” Mrs Bennet cried. “Lizzy, take that wild cat out! Upon my word, I shall kill him before he kills someone else!”
“I am truly sorry. Something must have scared him for him to respond in such a way,” Elizabeth said, addressing the guests as she struggled to catch the cat.
“I have told you many times that that cat cannot be trusted, Lizzy! What if he scratches our guests? You must not allow him in company again!”
“Yes, Mama,” Elizabeth agreed simply to end the conversation. Holding the cat in her arms, she took him to her room, but he seemed unable to calm down. He was clearly agitated, miaowing and spitting as he paced about the room. She had not seen him in such a state since the night she had saved him from the sea.
She closed the windows carefully, then left the room, allowing him time to calm down. In the drawing room, an animated conversation was being held, which she tried to join. The officers’ visit did not last long, and they were invited to call again soon. When Elizabeth returned to Mr Ash, he was still restless and would only drink a little bit of milk. It was several more hours before he fell asleep, but during the night his agitation returned.
