Page 11 of Longbourn’s Son (Pride and Prejudice Variation #22)

“My dears, do come in, do!” Mrs. Emma Philips exclaimed.

The six Bennet siblings promptly began shedding their outer wear; it was a cold day, and even within the carriage, it was sensible to be warmly dressed.

Their aunt’s maids carried away their pelisses and jackets, and the Bennets made their way into the drawing room which was comfortably furnished with couches and chairs.

The fire, which crackled and sparked in the large grate, was most welcome after the chill of the November winds outside.

“Will we get to play lottery tickets tonight, Aunt?” Lydia asked enthusiastically.

“Of course, my dear, of course! We have some fine prizes set aside tonight, but we must wait until the officers arrive, after all! They should be here shortly.”

This was found to be true as some twenty minutes later, a cadre of eight officers appeared on the Philips’s doorstep and were welcomed in.

Elizabeth, who was seated by the fire, rose to her feet and observed the group with interest and some amusement.

It was no real surprise that Maria Lucas was so enamored with the gentlemen; they looked very fine indeed in their red coats.

She was thankful that Lydia and Kitty were not yet greatly interested in handsome officers.

Ideally, the militia officers would prove good company, but realistically few would be eligible husbands for a gentleman’s daughter, as militia officers were generally not particularly plump in the pocket.

“Do get away from that chilly door, gentlemen!” Mrs. Philips encouraged, shooing the men toward the fire. “Now, I confess I do not know which ones of you have met my family, so I will introduce you all to my nieces and nephew, and then we will be comfortable.”

She proceeded to do so, naming the officers one by one to the Bennets, and then each of the siblings to the military men.

Elizabeth found herself surreptitiously inspecting one officer in particular, a young man with dark hair and eyes, a very fine figure, and a winsome smile on his face.

His name was Mr. Wickham, and he had only joined the regiment the previous day.

To her pleasure, Mr. Wickham sat down next to her when the ladies and officers distributed themselves around the room.

Luke and Kitty, she noted with amusement, cornered Captain Denny, who was owner of one of the horses in Milton’s stables.

Elizabeth hoped for her brother’s sake that Captain Denny was interested in his horse for more than mere transportation, as Luke would be disappointed otherwise.

During the first fifteen minutes of her discourse with Lieutenant Wickham, Elizabeth grew more and more pleased with the man.

His manners were perfect, his expression universally charming, and he spoke as a most sensible individual.

She was well on her way to considering him a most excellent addition to their social circle when a turn in the conversation sent her thoughts in a different direction.

“The weather seems quite chilly for November. Is that common for this time of year in Hertfordshire?” Lieutenant Wickham inquired.

“It varies, sir,” Elizabeth returned. “We have mild November days followed by cold spells. Is it not so in London?”

“It is, though I confess I rarely travel far in London without being comfortably ensconced in a carriage,” her companion asserted with a chuckle.

“But I do not mean to complain, I assure you. I grew up in Derbyshire in the north, and winter comes early in that county. Of course, as the home of my youth, I miss it, especially at Christmas, as I have such fond memories of my time at the estate of Pemberley.”

Elizabeth sat up in astonishment. “Pemberley? You grew up on the estate of Pemberley?”

Mr. Wickham looked surprised and his eyes narrowed watchfully. “Yes, Miss Elizabeth, I did. Have you heard of Pemberley?”

“Indeed I have! If you grew up on Pemberley, you must know the Darcys!”

Now an expression of unmistakable alarm filled those brown eyes and Wickham swallowed quickly. “I do know of them, of course, as Mr. Darcy is master of Pemberley. Are you an acquaintance of the Darcys? I confess I had not thought he would ... but that is of no importance. You know them?”

Elizabeth, frowning slightly, said, “Yes, I do. Mr. Darcy is staying with his friend, Mr. Bingley, at nearby Netherfield Park, and we have had some interactions.”

“And what do you think of the gentleman?” Wickham asked in a studiously casual tone. “In Derbyshire he is considered a very proud man, but perhaps he is more careful in his behavior away from home.”

“He is rather formal in his manners,” Elizabeth said, watching her companion carefully, “but he is obviously an intelligent man and a most attentive and loving brother to Miss Darcy.”

A strange look passed across the lieutenant’s face and he leaned forward a little. “Is Miss Darcy here as well, then?”

Elizabeth drew back an equal amount. “Yes, she is.”

“And do you like Miss Darcy?” Wickham asked.

“I do, very much. She is rather shy, but a charming girl.”

“Yes, she is,” Wickham said warmly. “All of Pemberley rejoiced in her birth, and certainly Darcy is an excellent brother to her.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth agreed, and determined to turn the conversation, said, “but please, sir, will you not tell me about London? My family has only visited Town on occasion, but I hope to visit my aunt and uncle in the next year, and am always eager to learn of enjoyable places to visit, especially ones that will prove pleasurable to my younger siblings.”

“Oh, Miss Elizabeth, have you visited Astley’s Amphitheatre?” Wickham inquired with enthusiasm. “It is a quite amazing circus, you know! Vauxhall Gardens is also beautiful...”

Elizabeth smiled and answered appropriately, but her mind was working busily. There was something about the way Wickham had asked about Miss Darcy that alarmed her.

/

“You did not tell me that Mr. Darcy was in the area,” Wickham said to Captain Denny as they walked back to their lodgings after the dinner party.

Denny, who had been quite taken with young Miss Kitty’s doe-like eyes and pretty features, took a moment to think through this comment before responding. “Darcy of Pemberley? Why should it matter?”

“We are not on good terms, Denny. He is, well, I do not enjoy speaking ill of the man, but he is very proud, and he has been jealous of me since our youth.”

“Why would he be jealous?” Denny asked with legitimate confusion. “He is master of the estate of Pemberley. You have far more engaging manners, but I would think only a fool would find your attributes of more value than ten thousand pounds a year.”

“I was his father’s godson,” Wickham responded mournfully.

Given that the night was dark, he did not bother to twist his face into a gentle expression, but he was an expert at conveying emotion through the tone of his voice.

“The elder Mr. Darcy was a truly great man who always preferred me to his son, who was proud and haughty even as a child. I fear that since my godfather died, Darcy has done his best to persecute me. Indeed, I should be a clergyman with a good living near Pemberley, as his father dictated in his will, but Darcy cruelly deprived me of the living, leaving me to earn my bread as best I can.”

“That is bad,” Denny responded heavily. “I am sorry, Wickham; if I had known there was a history between you, I would have warned you before you took your commission. I have only met Darcy a few times in company and found him pleasant enough, if rather distant, but I can well imagine that to be on his bad side is most regrettable. If you feel you must leave the area, I understand.”

“No, no!” Wickham declared stoutly. “It is not for me to flee Meryton; Darcy is the one who, through disdaining the wishes of his father, is to blame for the breakdown in our relationship. No, I will not importune him in any way, but I will not hide from him.”

“Very good, Wickham,” Denny said warmly. “Now come, onto more pleasant topics; are the Bennet ladies not beautiful? Miss Bennet, in particular, is considered the belle of the area and Miss Elizabeth is not far behind her.”

Wickham forced his thoughts away from the problem of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, and onto the lovely faces and features of the Bennet sisters.

“Yes, Denny, they are a most remarkable family.”

/

“Are you well, Lizzy?” Jane asked in concern as the two eldest Bennets assisted one another in undressing for bed. “You have been rather quiet since we left our aunt’s house.”

Elizabeth carefully unbuttoned her sister’s bodice and helped Jane step out of her pink dress, which Elizabeth then hung up carefully.

With only two maids between the five girls, the Bennet ladies were accustomed to assisting one another with dressing and styling their hair, and Elizabeth found comfort in the familiar motions while considering what to say.

“I am concerned,” she finally said, turning to gaze into her sister’s sapphire eyes. “You remember the new lieutenant? Mr. Wickham?”

“I do, of course,” Jane responded in bemusement. “He is very handsome, is he not?”

“He is. He also has delightful manners and carries himself exceedingly well.”

“What is the problem, then?”

Elizabeth blew out a slow breath and admitted, “Perhaps there is not a problem. Oh, I will have words for Charlotte, making me doubt the preference of my own eyes and ears!”

“What has Charlotte to do with it?” Jane demanded in astonishment.

“Why nothing! Oh, Jane, I daresay I am being foolish and provoking…”

“As to being foolish, I do not know, but you are certainly being confusing and thereby provoking. What is the matter?”

Elizabeth dropped down on the bed and began removing the hair pins from her own coiffure. “Mr. Wickham informed me that he grew up on the estate of Pemberley, which is Mr. Darcy’s estate in Derbyshire.”

“Did he indeed?” Jane marveled. “So he knows the Darcys?”

“He declares that he does, yes, and while he said nothing overtly negative about Mr. Darcy ... there was an intonation to his speech and a look in his eyes that concerns me. Moreover, he veritably pounced on the information that Miss Darcy is in residence at Netherfield. I do not like it, Jane. There was something about the cast of his features that stirred my fears.”

“And what has this to do with Charlotte Lucas?”

“Oh, she told me weeks ago, before the militia arrived, that a distant connection was harmed in some way by a militia officer. Charlotte pointed out correctly that we know nothing about these men, and that while the men may be fine, upstanding, godly gentleman, they also could be wolves in sheep’s clothing, and we would not know. ”

Jane sat down on a nearby chair and tapped her rosy lips with one slender finger. “There is some truth to that,” she admitted unhappily. “Man looks at the outer appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her brow before recollecting the passage in question. “Oh yes, when Samuel the prophet was sent to Jesse to choose one of his sons to be the next king of Israel, Samuel thought the eldest son would be anointed because he was tall and good looking…”

“Even as King Saul was tall and good looking,” Jane finished, “though he proved to be a poor king. Really, Lizzy, I suppose since I am blessed with substantial beauty…”

“Substantial?” her sister interrupted without compunction. “I would venture to say that you are one of the most beautiful women in all of England!”

Jane smiled and shook her head, but she continued seriously, “Even if that is true, why does it matter? I did nothing to make myself handsome, after all. It is quite vile that men flatter me and dance with me merely because of my face and form, when wonderful women like Charlotte Lucas are left to sit out dance after dance because she is not blessed with attractive features. It is not right.”

Elizabeth lifted her brows, surprised at the passion in her usually calm sister’s voice.

“I agree it is not right,” she said slowly, “but it is the way of the world, or of our world, at any rate. A gentleman most of all wishes that his bride be well connected and wealthy, but there is an additional cachet in capturing a beautiful woman as a wife. I am certain you are quite correct to despise such a perspective, but we will not change society alone.”

“We will not,” Jane agreed with a sigh and then said determinedly, “but I am quite resolute that I will not marry a man who is primarily interested in my outward appearance alone.”

“My dear Jane,” Elizabeth returned affectionately, “any man who is privileged to win you will be blessed with a wife who is not only beautiful, but kind and generous. But come, do you think I should warn Mr. and Miss Darcy that Mr. Wickham is in Meryton?”

Jane pondered this for a full minute and then nodded slowly. “I do not know if ‘warn’ is the right word, but certainly they should be informed. Perhaps they are actually old and valued friends with Mr. Wickham and will relish the opportunity to speak again.”

“Very well, I will go to Netherfield tomorrow.”

“I was planning to visit Mrs. Wells tomorrow as she just had her fifth baby, but perhaps Mary will go in my stead and bring the basket of food for them.”

“Father may be willing to accompany me to Netherfield,” Elizabeth suggested, “in which case both you and Mary can go to visit the Wells; she adores babies and you love the older children.”

“Father? It seems most unlikely that he will bestir himself from the library so soon after our dinner party at Netherfield.”

Elizabeth, remembering the odd mixture of embarrassment and enthusiasm in her father’s eyes as he set out to visit Mrs. Hurst that very morning, shook her head and said, “We will see, Jane.”