AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Elizabeth’s cheerful mood evaporated as all eyes in the room turned to her. She kept her face carefully blank as her aunt told Shaw to show him into the drawing room. Elizabeth had expected Mr. Wickham to avoid Gracechurch Street, but perhaps he believed he had something to gain by convincing everyone of the rightness of his cause.
“Mr. Wickham!” As the younger man, quite handsome in his regimentals, entered the room, Elizabeth’s father stood and shook his hand warmly. Aunt and Uncle Gardiner likewise greeted Mr. Wickham with a cordiality that had been notably absent in their interactions with Mr. Darcy. How unfai
r. He went to a great deal of trouble to host a lovely evening at Astley’s, and yet they still prefer this scoundrel. If only I could tell them Miss Darcy’s story!
Mr. Wickham shot Elizabeth a blinding smile; it was hard to resist, she now realized. However, the smile she returned was little more than bared teeth.
Everyone chatted with their guest about the weather and trivialities for a few minutes; Elizabeth said little. Finally, Elizabeth’s father asked Mr. Wickham, “What brings you to Gracechurch Street today?”
The younger man seemed taken aback by such bluntness, but a smile swiftly appeared on his face. “I hoped for a private conversation with your daughter.”
“I wrote to you to discontinue the engagement,” she said coldly.
He made a very credible sad face. “Yes, you did, but I had hoped to convince you to reconsider.”
“That is very handsome of you, sir.” Her father regarded Elizabeth as he spoke to Wickham. “Mr. Darcy took shameless advantage of her.”
Elizabeth managed to choke back a cry of frustration.
Mr. Wickham turned soulful eyes to Elizabeth. “I am sorry I did not protect you from his brutal advances. It was all quite sudden.”
Her father crossed his arms over his chest. “We do not lay the blame at your feet.”
How had her life come to such a pass, where her family would rather see her married to this blackguard than to a man of ten times his worth?
But Mr. Wickham smiled so winningly, and his face reflected such open, unassuming good humor, that for a moment even Elizabeth doubted the veracity of the Darcys’ story. What if Mr. Wickham was sincerely attached to her? What if Miss Darcy had been wrong?
But no, Elizabeth reminded herself. Miss Darcy’s tale coincided in every particular with what Elizabeth herself had observed about the man’s character.
Her father stood. “We should allow the young people a chance to speak in private,” he said to the Gardiners. Uncle Gardiner nodded in agreement, as did Aunt Gardiner, albeit with a concerned expression.
Good Lord! They would leave her alone with the man? “That is not necessary, Papa,” Elizabeth said through gritted teeth.
Her father leaned over and spoke into her ear. “Come, you were engaged to the man, albeit briefly. You at least owe him the courtesy of a conversation.”
Everyone in the room clearly wanted her to speak with Mr. Wickham, as though her rejection of him were some misunderstanding that could be easily corrected.
“I am certain they have much to discuss,” her father said to the Gardiners as they exited the room.
Elizabeth very much doubted this. There were only so many times she could say, “Leave me alone, and do not come near me again.” But perhaps a conversation would allow her to finally banish Mr. Wickham from her life.
The moment the door closed behind the others, Mr. Wickham asked, “Would you do me the honor of taking a walk with me?”
Elizabeth wanted any conversation to be brief and final. “I believe it is a little too chilly for a walk today.”
“Then a turn about the garden? It will be most refreshing.” He stood and offered her his arm.
Elizabeth sighed. “Very well.” The sooner it was over, the better. Elizabeth strolled to the door, pointedly ignoring Mr. Wickham’s arm.
They traversed the house in silence, donning coats and hats, before venturing into the back garden. The fresh, cool air lifted Elizabeth’s spirits, and she wished she could share it with someone else. The wintertime garden had its own stark beauty with bare tree branches framing the sky. It was not quite as warm as it had been upon their previous visit, but the temperature was tolerable.
Mr. Wickham again proffered his arm, and again Elizabeth ignored it, clasping her hands behind her back as she strolled briskly along the pathway. He hastened to catch up. When it became evident that Elizabeth would not speak, Mr. Wickham broke the silence. “I do not know what Darcy told you about me, but it was certainly a lie. The man is the most convincing teller of falsehoods I have ever met.”
Elizabeth stifled a laugh but said nothing in response.
“Will you not tell me what he accused me of so that I might clear my name?” he continued. “I love you, Elizabeth. I do not want to lose you.”
Now that Elizabeth had heard an authentic declaration of love, she could discern the falseness in Mr. Wickham’s. His words contained none of Mr. Darcy’s passion and desperation.
