Darcy had spent much of the evening after his unexpected encounter with Wickham pacing back and forth in front of the mantlepiece. He glared at the happily roaring fire. Several times Bingley called for him to settle down and play cards.
Darcy ignored this request.
Then when he finally made himself attend to the game, he found himself in such a state that within ten minutes he tossed his cards down and returned to angry pacing.
Elizabeth looking at Mr. Wickham, Georgiana looking at Mr. Wickham, his father looking at Mr. Wickham.
He despised the man.
Why, in a town in which he had found a sense of peace and happiness, had it been necessary for that gentleman to appear?
By the end of the evening, Darcy made the decision to call on the Bennets within the next few days to warn Elizabeth about Wickham’s character. She was exactly the sort of woman that his hated childhood companion would try to seduce and then abandon.
Elizabeth was a girl in a vulnerable position, not closely watched, and with a warm heart that could easily be persuaded by stories of unhappiness and woe. She was peculiarly beautiful, in a way that made Darcy’s throat catch. Beyond that she had a lively and happy temperament—at least when not in Mrs. Bennet’s presence.
She must be warned about Wickham’s true character before he had a chance to make any serious inroads into her peace of mind.
Miss Elizabeth had a core of integrity, and she would not be easily led into a sinful act. She certainly had sufficient good sense and knowledge of the world to keep her well protected from false oaths of affection and secret engagements. She could not have been fooled quite like Georgiana.
Darcy still worried for her.
He had a strong protective instinct about the girl. And when he thought of Wickham breaking her heart, of even just feeling the liberty to touch her hand, a clamoring rage filled Darcy’s chest.
Unceasing rain kept them all indoors and made calling on a house three miles distant a more difficult task than usual. He would have looked odd, and Darcy did not want to look odd.
And how would he have explained himself?
Mr. Wickham talked to Elizabeth.
That explanation would serve him very well if he had been Elizabeth’s suitor, which he was not. He was her friend, and he did not wish her to be placed in an uncomfortable position due to an excess of attention from an unexpected quarter.
In this end Darcy determined to speak with her during the course of Bingley’s ball.
Darcy spent the whole of the afternoon awaiting the Longbourn party. From something of his manner, Darcy suspected that Bingley did as well. This gave Darcy a new hint of concern that his friend’s interest in Jane Bennet was not of a quickly passing sort.
The Bennets only arrived ten minutes before the first dance was to begin, coming into a drawing room already packed with officers and Bingley’s neighbors. The bustle and hurry of the Longbourn party suggested that there had been a great deal of worry about placing all features of their dress into proper order before they came.
Mr. Bennet led the group. He was all sharp smiles, greying and half bald.
The fierceness with which Mr. Bennet was always defended by Elizabeth made Darcy look at him with a different eye. How much blame did that gentleman deserve for the ways that Elizabeth’s care had been mismanaged? Or for the lackadaisical way that he cared for his family.
Mr. Bennet certainly did not lack all virtues, but Darcy thought that from his less biased position, with a greater knowledge of the world, that he had a right to judge differently than Elizabeth, and to expect his judgement to be more correct.
When Darcy approached Elizabeth she spoke with a thickset man wearing a clerical collar and with an almost prettyish girl.
Upon coming close, Darcy perceived that the girl was in fact Mary Bennet. She was dressed wholly differently than she had been on other occasions when he saw her. And while it was impossible for Darcy to specify which details made the difference, Darcy perceived that attention had paid to fashion and to the flattering.
That which prompted this change seemed to be the gentleman they stood with, who engaged in a long speech about how as a clergyman he did not at all consider it unbecoming to participate in the gayeties and frivolities of a ball.
Miss Mary immediately agreed with him, saying, “All of my books agree that one must adopt oneself to the circumstances in which one finds oneself, while also maintaining adherence to religious principles and the proper behavior for one in our position in life.”
“That is just like what my patroness might say,” the clerical gentleman said approvingly.
Bowing to them all, Mr. Darcy gravely asked Elizabeth for her hand.
She seemed startled.
Elizabeth was fragile and beautiful. Her face had an elegant paleness. There was that odd lack of symmetry in her hair ornaments that he believed was intended to make her look poorly dressed. It made her look almost exotic. Dark eyes, dark hair, pulled tightly back, and a pale-lipped smile of real happiness for him.
“Of course, Mr. Darcy I would be delighted to—No, wait.” A worried frown came over her face and she slowly started to shake her head. “I thank you for the offer, but of course—”
“Nonsense, Lizzy. You wish to dance with him,” Miss Mary said.
The two girls looked at each other.
Suddenly the clergyman exclaimed, “Are you the Mr. Darcy of Pemberley whose aunt is Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Rosings Park?”
“I am,” Darcy replied.
“I have the good fortune of being able to inform you that your beneficent aunt was in good health Saturday last.”
Darcy bowed in reply.
“I have the enormous, good fortune to have received her patronage, and I am the current holder of the rectory at Hunsford Parsonage. Her great goodness, as you must know, cannot be surpassed by anyone, and she always shows the finest condescension to every person. As I was just telling my fair cousin—” he gestured to Miss Mary, “there is nothing lacking in the attentions that she has paid me, and she has made many excellent improvements to the parsonage building and the farm.”
Darcy bowed once more in reply.
“I perceive that you have the same perfect politeness and natural condescension that her Ladyship possesses. She shall be delighted to hear that I have met such a person who—”
“Mr. Collins,” Miss Mary took his arm, “I do very much wish to be lined up with everyone else for the dance as soon as possible. You can see that people are already stepping out to the ballroom. We must go quickly—Mr. Darcy, you are of such goodness that you cannot judge Mr. Collins harshly for leaving so abruptly, and after he had barely begun to speak of the goodness of your family.”
“No, I will not judge him at all for that.” He caught Elizabeth’s dancing eyes, and she was smiling quietly. He rather suspected from her expression that Miss Mary also knew that she had done a favor to Darcy by preventing the prolongation of that speech.
Before she stepped away, Mary took Elizabeth’s hand, squeezed it, and gestured in Darcy’s direction.
Darcy and Elizabeth both glanced around the room. Mrs. Bennet had already left the room, but Mr. Bennet stood in the corner holding a steaming cup of either chocolate or coffee, and he frowned at them. He did not look away at noticing Darcy noticing him.
“Not the first dance,” Elizabeth said, “and only if you will also dance with Mary and the other sisters. Perhaps Mary before me, in fact.”
That rage Darcy had felt before on her behalf flared again. Mrs. Bennet’s jealousy. There at least was the explanation for why she never danced with him.
“Oh! I see you are unhappy. And I think I know who you mean to blame—I beg to not look so dour.”
“I dislike injustice.”
“Then give Wilberforce your support—I beg you from my heart to not fight my battle. I have no cause for anything but gratitude. And I am most grateful to you amongst others.” She smiled at him warmly.
A warm glow filled Darcy at seeing that smile.
“If you insist,” Darcy said, “I shall dance with all of the other girls. And Miss Mary before you. Though I dislike the need to dance with the rest. Miss Bennet especially.”
“Are you just so contrary?” Elizabeth asked, smiling. “She is so pretty. And therefore, that contrary thing inside of you demands that you oppose the general inclination in her direction?”
Darcy grinned. “Whether that seems an accurate portrait I must leave for you to determine.”
“She is sweet, and very kind. Always soft.”
“I do not know that I like softness.”
Mr. Bennet approached them, and that gentleman bowed to Mr. Darcy.
Elizabeth smiled cheerfully at the man who was essentially her father. “We were speaking of contrary characters who are determined to oppose anything that the madding crowd likes. You would know nothing of that.”
Mr. Bennet smiled at Elizabeth. “I have, simply to remain unpredictable, on occasion agreed with common opinion.”
“No, no! Never. Not you.” Elizabeth was clearly in an excellent mood.
“And what is your opinion?” Mr. Bennet looked at Mr. Darcy with a strong and steady look. It was almost intimidating. “Do you run with madding crowd, or do you stand upon principal always.”
“I hope that I stand upon principle.” Darcy then frowned. “At times one sees someone treated wrongly. I do not respect someone who can see such a thing, in a place where it is their duty to care, and then they do not.”
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth turned to him, “I already begged you once.”
“But he is a man who does his duty as he sees it,” Mr. Bennet said. “We have established that he is a gentleman who is as contrary as I am, but with more principles.”
“I did not make any claim about you,” Mr. Darcy said.
“Now, now, let us not engage in any sort of disguise. You thought that.” Mr. Bennet shrugged. “But you have answered the question I had for you. And we must go to the other room to watch everyone dance. Do you two mean to dance?”
“The third set,” Elizabeth said. “If Mary is agreeable Darcy shall dance with her once she is done with Mr. Collins.”
Mr. Bennet rolled his eyes. “Jove do not worry so much upon my wife’s tender nerves—I shall manage her. Dance as soon as the next set begins and have a happy time.”
Darcy did ask Miss Mary if she would dance with him after this set, but he did not pursue the other sisters for a request while standing near Elizabeth, even though he planned to.
When they stepped out onto the floor, Elizabeth hesitated at first, and she looked about to watch and follow the other dancers. However, she had a natural sense of rhythm, and within minutes she easily enough stepped through the dance, though not with the polished fineness that could only be given by many hours of practice under the eye of a tutor who slapped your hand with a stick when you made any significant mistake.
Darcy took joy in Elizabeth’s evident joy at how the steps came easier and easier. She looked at him with a brilliant smile.
She was happy.
“We must have conversation,” Elizabeth said. “To stand across for ten minutes without saying a word, everyone must think us ridiculous.”
“I believe they must be too preoccupied in admiring you to think any such thing.”
She blushed redly, and Darcy had a sense that he said too much, but at the same time he wished her to understand herself as admirable, and to know that any person of sense would look upon her as an attractive creature.
“Books or Greek?” Darcy asked.
“Books or Greek! In a ballroom! We cannot speak of books at a ball. That would be wholly too ordinary. I speak of books all the time.”
“Then let us talk about your cousin, he seems very much the sort of man my Aunt Catherine would be happy to have as her rector.”
“It is so odd to watch him sit next to Mary. I do not know if she has decided whether she will accept him, or even if he has determined to offer. But I think she almost likes his speeches. And he certainly is a man who will listen when she gives him orders.”
“A great many words,” Darcy said. “I am afraid that I just recalled a matter which I must speak to you upon. I saw you making a new acquaintance the other day when Bingley and I rode into town. At the time I thoughtlessly only wished to cut him and show my disregard for him, and thus I did not consider that I ought to warn you against Mr. Wickham.”
Elizabeth frowned. Her eyes then shot around until they settled on a corner. He looked over and found Mrs. Bennet looking upon them with her own frown.
Much of Elizabeth’s happiness seemed to be evaporating.
Darcy said quickly, “I do hope that you are not... He has a charming manner. He is most unlike me in his ability to easily enter amiable conversation with strangers, and particularly to flirt and flatter women. Perhaps he has—”
Elizabeth grinned, that momentary cloud dissipating. “You consider yourself particularly unable to flirt and flatter?” She seemed clearly very amused by this. “I tell you, Mr. Darcy, I would not see your manners changed for a thousand pounds sterling.”
He smiled back at her, warmed by this approval, though not wholly sure in what way to take it. “I do wish you to be cautious around Mr. Wickham. He has been the ruination of more than one young and unprotected woman.”
“Such a man?” Elizabeth replied. “I think I need fear nothing from Mr. Wickham. My benefactress and Lady Lucas may be his dupes, but I am not. I do not know the details of what happened with that living that he says ought to have been his, but I think too highly of your character to imagine you acting in the manner he accused you of.”
This brought a severe frown to Darcy’s face. “Has he been spreading such stories around? And finding willing ears?”
“Mr. Darcy,” she was smiling at him again, “I hope this does not give you pain, but you are not well liked by the neighborhood. There are many who think you to be very proud, and to consider yourself better than the gentry here—they do not like to be treated in a manner that reminds them of how they treat those they see beneath themselves—and your failure to dance every dance at the Assembly Ball could only ever be forgotten if you were to marry the daughter of a local squire.”
“Surely it is not so bad. They cannot in reason expect every man to happily dance with strangers.”
“I give you the common opinion. I shall venture no judgement upon whether it is fair to leave young ladies to languish merely because they have not been given consequence by other young men.”
Darcy laughed. “Though you refrain from stating it, I guess at your opinion on that point.”
“Yes, but only there. You are proud, but your income is far greater. It is beneficial to the soul of Mrs. Bennet and Lady Lucas to have someone who does not treat them as being of great consequence because they are rich in a place where no one else is. I do not at all mind that you never seem to forget your position.”
This justification of Darcy’s mode of presenting himself at once suggested a deficiency in both his behavior and Elizabeth’s education. He ought to think on it more deeply later. “Has Mr. Wickham merely told a story of a living refused, and nothing else?”
“And nothing else,” Elizabeth said hotly. “He merely calls you a thief, a man upon whom every better feeling, every sort of parental piety is lost. That is a great deal.”
The thought of Georgiana came to Darcy’s mind. “Those matters only bear upon me . No one else is affected. If that is the only story he has spread, I do not think that I must act. Especially since in another week I must go first to London for some business, and then to Pemberley.”
“You must?” Elizabeth said with surprise. “Oh, but of course you must. You could not stay here forever. And I knew you meant to return to your home during December.” She smiled weakly. “I have come to like you very much, and you shall be missed.”
“I shall miss you dearly as well. And worry about you when we are separate.”
That led to an almost teary, but still brilliant smile.
Soon the dance ended, and Darcy led her to where Miss Mary stood speaking with Mr. Collins as they had for the whole of the set.
Darcy bowed to Mr. Collins, begged for the hand of his partner in conversation, survived several minutes of the speeches of that gentleman, amply compensated by the smiles of Elizabeth who stood near.
As soon as proper, he took Miss Mary’s hand to escort her to the line, but as he went off he looked at Elizabeth, hesitating, wishing to have more time to speak to her.
“Go, go,” she smiled, “I have already achieved every happiness that I hoped for in this night.”
It transpired that Mr. Darcy spent the chief part of his dance with Miss Mary in a conversation upon books. While she was not so well informed nor sensible as he found Elizabeth to be, Miss Mary made an effort to have serious thoughts upon serious subjects. She was neither so wholly determined upon sticking to her own opinions that argument was pointless, nor so easily swayed that one must lose respect for the firmness of her character.
Darcy rather thought that ignoring the material circumstances that favored her marrying her father’s heir, Miss Mary possessed in full measure a moralistic strain leavened by flashes of humor that would serve her well as a clergyman’s wife.
He of course did not say so much, but he did not make any criticism, nor even have temptation to laugh when she mentioned once or twice Mr. Collins in a proprietary tone.
Following this Mr. Darcy made the effort he had promised Elizabeth, and applied first to Miss Catherine, and then to Miss Lydia for a dance.
Miss Catherine replied much as expected, curtseyed in reply, wrote him into her dance card, and then danced in a polished manner, but without any distinguishing characteristics. Their conversation was uninteresting, except that he managed to discover that she was extremely grateful to Miss Mary for drawing Mr. Collins’s attention away. “Oh, I do not know how I would have been able to say no to Mama, for she is desperately intent that he marry one of us. Yet I never could have brought myself to marry him. Poor Mary, not even she can like such a dullard. Do not tell Jane that I have said so much. She always acts as though it is a dreadful scandal for me to admit so much as a dislike for my cousin. But I think there is nothing improper in saying that he is the most boring man I have ever had the misfortune of listening to. At least Mary shall be settled far enough away that I need not listen to him often.”
About Elizabeth, Miss Catherine had rather less to say. “Oh she is always so very nice. Except I think she is laughing at all of us. Just like Papa. But she is nice enough. She does not spend all her pocket money and will usually lend me a crown or shilling if I need it. And Mama depends on her.”
“She receives pocket money,” Darcy said with a little surprise.