Page 37 of Mr Darcy’s Quizzing Glass

Wickham tapped his ear. “I was not the only one who heard Miss Lydia cry out about magic and enchantments when she peered through your precious quizzing glass,” he said, his eyes narrowed. “Are the Darcy fortunes due to nefarious acts? Are you practising the dark arts?”

“Of this you accuse me?” Darcy’s voice sank in disgust. “Can you truly sink so low?”

TWENTY-SEVEN

With Lydia well in hand and Mr Bingley returned to Jane’s side, Elizabeth hastened towards the front entry. She was startled to see Mr Hill gesture wearily in the direction of the parlour. “The show is outside, miss, but the audience has assembled in here.”

Indeed, a group of her neighbours were gathered around an open sash window, murmuring amongst themselves as they listened to the heated voices of Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham on Longbourn’s front drive. As Elizabeth looked on in dismay, Maria Lucas leant near and whispered, “Mr Wickham is so very bad.”

Elizabeth moved swiftly back to Mr Hill, begging him to close the window, and stepped outside, desperate to warn Mr Darcy that his conversation with Mr Wickham was less than private. Both men turned to her. Even in the dim light she could see Mr Darcy’s angry, strained expression.

“Miss Elizabeth!” Mr Wickham bared his teeth in a wide grin, his hand on his chest in some unctuous attempt at sincerity as he stepped towards her. “How fortuitous you have joined us. You are perhaps the most intelligent lady in Meryton, one whose opinion I have long esteemed.”

“If my opinion is so valued that I can bring an end to your argument, I am happy to give it.”

Mr Darcy remained silent, glowering at Mr Wickham’s excessively familiar tone. His tension was palpable; she feared how much worse it would be if he knew others had heard his former friend’s incendiary accusation.

“Prepare yourself to be shocked.” Mr Wickham, now standing too close, pulled her attention back to him. “Darcy here, whom I know you have found to be officious, is suspected of things far more infamous than conceit.”

“We all have our faults, sir, and none of us may claim perfection.”

The lieutenant chuckled, foolishly mistaking her defence of Mr Darcy as a flirtation with him. “O-ho, but so much of you is perfection.”

“Wickham!”

Elizabeth avoided looking at her defender, fearful that Mr Wickham might suspect where her allegiance lay.

“I beg your pardon, madam,” crooned Mr Wickham. “I hope your sister, dear Miss Lydia, is recovered? I heard a scream, and understand she nearly fainted after looking through Darcy’s quizzing glass and seeing visions of a kind which could be induced solely by sorcery or witchcraft.”

“Lydia?” She laughed. “My youngest sister, who believes in wood fairies and the inherent goodness of any handsome male? A girl who has drunk far too much punch to tie her shoe ribbons?” Elizabeth promised herself she would make amends to Lydia and promote her intelligence in whatever way she could in the future, but at this moment, it was imperative she tease her for childish beliefs. “It is the word of a juvenile that you, a grown man and an officer in the militia, put stock in?”

“I would believe the word of a child against the dubious character of a man such as Darcy.”

“Yet you deny support to your own children,” said Mr Darcy in a low, seething voice.

Elizabeth bit back astonishment as Mr Wickham’s unctuous, insistent voice rose again.

“Miss Elizabeth, if you doubt the glass is bewitched as your sister claimed, perhaps we should put it to a test. Let us see what Mr Bennet and Sir William think of it.” His bland smile could not conceal his agitation.

“My father is likely to agree with Lydia only to amuse himself and claim he sees the horns of the devil on you,” she replied. “And unfortunately, like many here, Sir William has enjoyed generous servings of my mother’s punch. Two less trustworthy arbiters could not be found.”

Mr Wickham looked upwards, as if the heavens would offer him aid, before importuning her yet again. “’Tis unfortunate, but perhaps you will assist, for you are as fair a judge of character as can be found. Darcy, would you permit Miss Elizabeth to peer through the glass and affirm the charge levelled against you?”

Recognising the suggestion as the swiftest way to calm any suspicions, Elizabeth stepped towards Mr Darcy. “Sir, would you mind?”

He seemed to understand her intent and reached into his pocket. Fearing the hateful Mr Wickman would snatch the glass from her if she remained too near him, Elizabeth took a few steps farther down the path. She lifted it to her right eye, peering first at Longbourn, its windows filled with light, before turning it slightly to look at Mr Darcy, who, as he had before, emanated a steadying golden light. Then, calmly, having mastered the power of the glass, she turned to Mr Wickham. The light immediately dimmed, and his profile, once visible under the flickering lamp-posts, darkened, showing only a shadowy, murky figure; her stomach lurched as a bleak sensation assailed her senses, and she managed to turn quickly back to Mr Darcy, seeking and finding relief in the warm, benevolent force that surrounded him.

“Miss Elizabeth? What do you see?” cried Mr Wickham.

She lowered the glass, gripping it tightly with both hands. “Two men, a house, a night sky, and stars, sir. Nothing extraordinary, nothing that connotes the evils you mentioned and which my silliest sister teased of.”

“Let me have it and see for myself!”

Quickly she handed the glass to Mr Darcy. He gave her hands a gentle squeeze before turning to Mr Wickham and saying, with a bitter chuckle, “I think not. Miss Elizabeth, whose opinion and intelligence we both esteem, has seen nothing out of the ordinary. I would not place it back in your thieving hands.”

“I told you I did not take it!” Mr Wickham bellowed. “Her sister did! The silly girl heard of its rubies and diamonds and was determined to have them!”

Loud gasps and a shout of ‘Liar!’ filled the air, alerting Elizabeth that they were no longer alone, with only horses for company. Longbourn’s front door was open, and her father, Mr Bingley, Jane, Kitty, and most of the Lucases had stepped past the threshold. Even in the shadowy moonlight, she could see the shock and disbelief on their faces. Mr Darcy glanced over his shoulder, shook his head briefly, and turned back to address Mr Wickham.