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At the end of the evening Elizabeth returned to Longbourn and once in bed returned to conversation of earlier. At first, she was inclined, despite her own prejudices against the man, to believe and trust Darcy over Wickham. Most of Wickham’s tale reeked of bitterness and jealousy. But she returned again and again to Darcy’s pride. She recalled his pomposity the final evening at Netherfield. The exact words did not come to her but there was something about ‘pride, where there is real superiority of mind’. He owned it, was proud of it and less than a minute later acknowledged he had a vengeful temper. No she remembered it was a resentful temper. At the time she thought it was a warning to Miss Bingley, now she was not so sure.

So Darcy was proud, Wickham and he must have had words, although Elizabeth knew not what, and Darcy’s resentful temper meant that Wickham now nursed a grudge. She recalled that Darcy also admitted that ‘my good opinion once lost, is lost forever.’ Elizabeth felt she understood the dynamics of their relationship. But two things still troubled her. Darcy and his friendship with Bingley, and through him the idiotic sisters. And why Wickham invested so much time in damning Darcy to Elizabeth herself.

She thought about the last point first. She knew she was guilty of giving Wickham encouragement at various points in his speech. She would claim she gave him enough rope to hang himself but regardless what did his attentions mean? Based on the tale Wickham was 28, the same age as Darcy. What had he been doing for the last six years? He had left Cambridge at 22 with a gentleman’s education. Why at 28 was he reduced to joining the Militia as a basic Lieutenant? Even if Darcy had denied him the living how had he spent his time? There were too many questions and all of them had potentially unsettling answers. Wickham bemoaned the loss of the living, but to be eligible to accept the living he had to be ordained. Comments about that process were conspicuously absent from his tale of woe.

A more troubling thought was that he was a rake, coming to an area where he was not known to prey upon the naïve amongst the local female population. With Claire and Robert as constant companions she did not feel threatened by him. But Elizabeth’s eyes involuntarily turned in the direction of her youngest sisters’ bedroom. The two of them were already enamoured with redcoats. They would be easy pickings for an experienced seducer, especially given the non-existent parenting of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet. Elizabeth knew that she was going to have to try herself, there would be no help from her parents. But as with all her previous efforts she expected it to fall on deaf ears.

She set aside that issue for the morning and thought about Darcy and the Bingleys. Wickham appeared to be a blight upon Darcy and he had removed him from his society. Bingley, despite his family’s origins in trade, had been a friend since Darcy’s university days. He was here in Hertfordshire to help Bingley understand managing an estate. Both those pieces fitted into nicely labelled boxes. What Elizabeth could not understand were the other three members of the party. Mr. Hurst was a satirical cartoon figure brought to life; he slept late, had a bit of sport in the afternoon before an evening spent eating and drinking to excess. He could not understand how someone did not like ragout, or would prefer reading to cards. His wife seemed to be in the company of her sister more than her husband and reminded Elizabeth of her own sister Kitty; she was a follower. In Kitty’s case it was her younger sister Lydia and with Mrs. Hurst it was also her younger sister. Louisa Hurst’s role was to be an obliging toady for her sister.

Which left Caroline Bingley. Elizabeth had no idea how Darcy put up with Caroline Bingley. His friendship with Mr. Bingley must be very strong, as she was a plague upon his person. Old Mrs. Evans in Meryton, blind for more than a decade, could see that Mr. Darcy had no matrimonial designs upon Miss Bingley. Yet she continued to throw herself at him, not just physically but verbally as well. Elizabeth did not understand how anyone could deal with her pretentions. Caroline Bingley was the daughter of a tradesman, Elizabeth had met her father’s brother who still ran the family carriage works, yet she acted like she was Princess Charlotte. Caroline Bingley deluding herself was all well and good but what Elizabeth could not understand was how everyone else put up with it. Especially Mr. Darcy, he of the self-proclaimed pride in his family and circumstances. She was still pondering this situation when she finally fell asleep.

Chapter 12

The following morning was dry, a perfect crisp and clear autumn day. Elizabeth had to laugh when she descended the stairs to find both Robert and Claire waiting, dressed for a walk. Her first request was to have been to bring her pelisse yet Claire was holding it in readiness. She smiled broadly at the two of them.

“I am apparently a creature of routine.”

Five minutes later they were striding out of the grounds of the Manor, their usual brisk pace keeping them warm against the weather.

“May I ask how the evening went Miss Elizabeth?”

“Of course Claire. Did you not get the gist from Robert last night?”

“I was tired and once you were settled we too fell asleep quickly.”

“I see. Robert, would you start please.”

“Your aunt is a kind person Miss Elizabeth, and was grateful for the additional help. I think your uncle was even more grateful.”

A sharing of the physical burden.

“I ignored the regular residents of the area and instead focused on the Militia officers. I do not know if this is 100% accurate but the tales were consistent all night. The Colonel and the Major were both in the Regulars and have been appointed to the Militia due to wounds suffered in battle.”

“The Colonel told me himself that he had been wounded in the retreat with General Moore.”

Robert nodded his head.

“The two Captains are both sons of gentry but have many older brothers. I heard they were fourth, fifth or sixth sons and as there only two of them there is clearly some uncertainty. But it appears clear they are the lower sons of minor gentry, the equivalent of Miss Kitty or Miss Lydia if you were all sons rather than daughters. “

It was a good way to explain it. Forced to make their own way, but without the funds to purchase a commission in the Regulars.

“The Lieutenants are a mixed bag. They are all educated, three of them through university. Ten years ago, even five years ago, they would not have been eligible to be officers.”

“Why not?”

“Apparently there is a requirement to hold land to be an officer. There were various amounts bandied around but the most common was £50. To be a Militia officer you had to own land worth £50 a year. But with the ongoing war, and the demand for soldiers, they have waived that requirement. As long as you have a gentleman’s education they will accept you as a Lieutenant. But there can be no advancement to Captain without satisfying the requirement.”

“How did you hear all this?”

“I heard the man you met in the street yesterday, the new Lieutenant Mr. Wickham, moaning about the fact that he was stuck as a Lieutenant.”

“I presume you heard part of his tale of woe against Mr. Darcy?”

“I did.”

Elizabeth spent the next 30 minutes detailing her encounter with Mr. Wickham. She turned to Claire

“Your thoughts on all this?”