“Miss Lizzy, this leads me to wonder: What was it about him that appealed to you? Is he handsome?”
“Yes, his appearance is easy to admire.” Mr. Wickham was devilishly handsome with light blond hair and warm brown eyes. His attention made her feel special, honored, to have an attractive gentleman share private information with only her.
“I see.” Mrs. Hammond shook her head slowly. “I do wonder if it is as the vicar’s wife says in Oliver Goldsmith’sVicar of Wakefieldthat handsome is as handsome does or as is most commonly believed that handsome is all that matters?”
“I do not know.”Had Mr. Wickham’s charms exceeded her ability to sketch his character?
“And I wonder, why would a new acquaintance share his distress with someone unrelated to his trials who has no power or authority to change the situation? Was he tugging on yourheartstrings to purposefully sour you against Mr. Darcy and stir up sympathy for himself?”
“I…” Elizabeth was feeling a bit foolish. Mrs. Hammond was correct. She sighed.
“Now, dear, do not be upset. The salient point is that the officers, who might or might not have included this Mr. Wickham, disparaged your family based on the conduct of your sisters. It is that single detail upon which you need to center your attention. The other, between Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham, will sort itself out in due time. It always does with these great men.”
Elizabeth swallowed. In all honesty, she enjoyed being singled out by Mr. Wickham above her sisters and all other unattached females at the gathering. Sarah and Sally Long spent the whole evening sashaying back and forth in front of Elizabeth and Mr. Wickham in hopes of garnering his attention. Lydia overtly flirted with the man. Yet, Mr. Wickham paid them no heed in favor of spending time with her.
Vain, prideful girl!
Elizabeth would ponder the recent appearance of Mr. Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Mr. Wickham later that evening once the beds were turned down and the candles snuffed for the night. She vowed to herself that she would examine the little she knew of Mr. Wickham’s character closer, too. Right now, she needed to consider the reputation of her family.
Mrs. Hammond’s report was not a surprise. Both Kitty and Lydia were often referred to as ‘the silliest girls in the county’ by their father, and many times they embarrassed Elizabeth with their poor manners. They were fully enamored with the idea of being a military wife. That the regiment’s commanding officer, Colonel Forster, had a seventeen-year-old bride did not help Elizabeth’s cause to keep her sisters from mischief with the militia. Despite Kitty also being seventeen, it was Lydia, atfifteen, who was the boldest and most determined to be the first Bennet daughter wed. Whatever Lydia did, Kitty followed.
Their mother delighted in the retelling of once being madly in love with a handsome officer in her seventeenth year. When given a choice between the impoverished lieutenant or Mr. Thomas Bennet, an educated older squire with an estate, she sought security over infatuation. It was a poor example for her youngest daughters to hear oft-repeated, especially with an entire militia camped not one mile from Longbourn.
Elizabeth would heed Mrs. Hammond’s suggestion and warn her father as soon as she returned home.
Glancing out the window, the branches of the large oak tree across the road dipped and swayed in the wind. A spatter of raindrops hit the window.
“My dear girl, it is reassuring to me that the gentlemen will protect you on your return to Longbourn. It looks to be turning into a right squall outside. Perhaps it would be wisest to wait out the storm before attempting to venture out. It is possible that the inclement weather will keep the gentlemen from leaving the bookstore.”
Elizabeth pulled the lapels of her coat tighter, then readjusted the bonnet over her curls, re-tying it tightly under her chin. “A little rain or wind will not hurt me as I have been wet and blown about before. I believe the course of wisdom is that I depart for Longbourn right away so they can ride quickly to Netherfield Park for their health and safety.”
CHAPTER 2
There was something about being in Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s presence that invigorated Fitzwilliam Darcy. Was it the liveliness inherent in her nature? With only himself and his sister, Georgiana, occupying their large estate, their drawing rooms were often silent. When they were in London, business kept him confined to his study where few visitors risked entering without invitation. His life, for the most part, was…dull. No, that could not be accurate since he enjoyed many things. One of his greatest pleasures was engaging in conversation with someone possessing a sharp mind. It was why he enjoyed his cousin’s company. And, if he was honest, Miss Elizabeth’s.
Before he opened the door to the bookstore, Richard stopped him.
“Say, Darcy, you old dog. Why did you not tell me of your interest in a lady? I would not have tormented you earlier about our aunt’s expectations that you marry Cousin Anne. Where she is sickly and lifeless, Miss Elizabeth is vibrant. Good choice, my good man.”
Darcy barely kept from sputtering. “Of what are you speaking? Miss Elizabeth is nothing to me. I was merely being neighborly.”
The arch of Richard’s brow indicated his disbelief. “Neighborly? Is that so? Then why did you ride right by a mother with a passel of children clinging to her apron strings who barely kept her daughter from blowing away in this wind? And why did you not stop and help the shopkeeper’s wife who was trying to close her shutters? Are they not your neighbors? Or is it only the Bennets whom you acknowledge?”
He grumbled, uncomfortable with Richard’s observations. In truth, he had not seen either the mother or the shopkeeper once his eyes were fixed on Elizabeth Bennet.
Richard was not yet finished. “Additionally, we bypassed the bookstore, our intended destination, once you spotted her. Do not try to tell me you have no interest, Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
Inhaling sharply, Darcy stated in as convincing a tone as was possible, “I have not been introduced to either the mother with the children or the shopkeeper’s wife. The only one on the street with whom I am properly acquainted is Miss Elizabeth. This does not indicate romantic interest because I do not have those inclinations in the slightest toward her or anyone else in the community. You shall see.”
“Oh, I saw all right.” His cousin smirked. “Slim ankles and well-muscled…”
“Richard! Enough!”
“Surely even you, with your prim ways, must have noticed her…”
“I noticed,” Darcy admitted. “Nonetheless, they have no effect on me.”
Richard’s grin belied his words. “If you say so.”
