Page 5 of Mission to Meryton (Pride and Prejudice Variation #25)
“Your aunt Philips tells me that there will be a few militia officers at the gathering tonight,” Mrs. Bennet informed her daughters as the Longbourn carriage rattled its way toward Meryton.
Lydia squealed in excitement, “Officers, Mama? Will they indeed be there? How absolutely delightful! I do hope they will wear their uniforms. There is nothing as handsome as a fine officer in a red coat!”
“Handsome is as handsome does,” Mrs. Bennet returned cynically. “By all means enjoy their company, Lydia, but you are a gentleman’s daughter. You must not throw yourself away on a mere lieutenant with only fifty pounds a year in income.”
“Should we not marry for love, Mama?” Kitty asked timidly.
“Love is all well and good, but it does not put food on the table for your children, or clothes on their backs. No, my dears, I will not permit you to marry a penniless man.”
“Nor should we marry only for money,” Elizabeth asserted. “It would be dreadful to marry a rich man who is ungodly and cruel.”
“That is also true,” her mother admitted.
“There are many such men, sadly enough. I merely wish to encourage you to be cautious in your affections. Jane and Elizabeth will be launched into London society early next year, and Mary the year after that. There will be far more eligible men in London society than here in Meryton.”
“Is not Jane too old?” Lydia demanded.
Jane flushed and Mrs. Bennet glared at her youngest child, “Jane is the most handsome of all my daughters, and with her looks, disposition, and dowry, she will easily find a good husband in London.”
/
Mrs. Emma Philips, elder sister of Mrs. Bennet, welcomed her nieces with a broad smile on her plump face.
Mr. and Mrs. Philips had been married some five and twenty years, and their two sons, cousins to the Bennet girls, were both working in trade in London.
It was a sad irony of life that the Bennets greatly longed for a son to break the entail on Longbourn, and Mrs. Philips had always desired a daughter; though the presence of five healthy nieces mitigated her disappointment that after the birth of her second son, she never conceived again.
All the Bennet daughters loved their aunt, though Jane and Elizabeth were well aware that she was a vulgar soul.
“Sister, Nieces!” the lady of the house proclaimed in delight. “Please, let me introduce you to the officers who have graced Meryton with their presences.”
The formalities followed, and Elizabeth found herself curtsying to four officers, a Captain Denny, a Captain Carter, a Lieutenant Pratt, and a Lieutenant Wickham.
Through the murmur of introductions and bows from the men, Elizabeth was aware that all the sisters, herself included, kept darting glances at Lieutenant Wickham.
The other officers were no doubt fine men in their own way, but the lieutenant was a tall oak tree rearing above its pathetic neighbors, a star shining between the dark clouds of night.
From the top of his dark blond head to the soles of his finely polished boots, he was an incredible figure of a man, blessed with handsome features and a form which was set off magnificently by his red coat.
Elizabeth heard Lydia breathing rather rapidly at the glorious sight before her, and as annoyed as she was, she could hardly blame her youngest sister. Mr. Wickham was exceptionally striking.
“Please do sit down,” Mrs. Philips instructed as Mr. Philips entered from the back hall.
Their uncle was a stocky man of fifty years of age, quiet where his wife was garrulous, but he was a kindly individual and he nodded genially at his nieces as they all made their way to the drawing room, where they settled themselves on various couches and chairs.
To Elizabeth’s delight, she found herself seated next to Mr. Wickham with Lydia on his other side.
Mr. Wickham turned out to be a charming conversationalist, and they spent a pleasant few minutes discussing the rival delights of the Hertfordshire country side and the wilder country of Derbyshire where he had grown up.
Mr. Wickham described the crags and lakes and forests with vivid detail, painting an enchanting picture in her mind’s eye.
“Derbyshire?” Lydia demanded when there was a slight break in the conversation. “Do you know a man named Mr. Darcy, who also hails from Derbyshire?”
Elizabeth frowned at her youngest sister, irritated at the change in topic. She had never traveled to the north, and always enjoyed conversing about unfamiliar lands.
Lydia ignored her, her eyes fixed on Mr. Wickham who, after a pause, responded, “Mr. Darcy of Pemberley? Yes, I know him. Indeed, I grew up on Pemberley itself as my father was steward to Mr. Darcy’s father.”
“Poor Mr. Wickham!” Lydia cried out. “It must have been quite dreadful to be in frequent company with such an unpleasant individual!”
“Lydia!” Elizabeth hissed sternly. “That is entirely inappropriate!”
The girl lifted her chin, “Well, it is quite true and everyone in Meryton quite despises Mr. Darcy, in spite of his great wealth. He is dreadfully proud. He insulted Lizzy at the Meryton Assembly, saying that she was not handsome enough to dance with!”
Elizabeth winced and Mr. Wickham spoke quickly, “That is demonstrably not true, Miss Elizabeth, and I hope that one day I can make up for the rude behavior of my old playmate by dancing with you. I fear that the Darcys are a proud family though Mr. Darcy’s father was the very best of men. I was his godson, you see.”
“Were you truly?” Lydia exclaimed. “Is Pemberley indeed so splendid?”
“It is quite one of the most magnificent estates in the whole country, and one of the richest, with a full ten thousand pounds per annum. I treasured my times there quite dearly, and regret that I have been unable to return to the home of my youth because ... but I must not speak of that. You say that Mr. Darcy is living nearby? I confess to being startled, as he usually divides his time between Pemberley and London, where he owns a very fine house.”
“He is staying with his friend, Mr. Bingley, at nearby Netherfield Hall,” Elizabeth explained. “Mr. Bingley is leasing the estate and his two sisters, one brother by marriage, and Miss Darcy are also abiding there at present.”
Wickham tilted his head curiously. “What think you of Miss Darcy, Miss Elizabeth? Did she also insult you?”
“No, not at all!” Elizabeth exclaimed warmly. “She seems a very sweet young lady, though perhaps a little shy.”
“There was great rejoicing at Pemberley when Miss Darcy was born as her mother, Lady Anne, was not a strong woman, though a thoroughly kind one,” Wickham declared, a faraway look in his eye.
“I have not encountered the Darcys for some time, but I am pleased that you find Miss Darcy a charming companion. I used to spend many an hour entertaining her in my youth.”
Lydia, whose attention had been wandering, suddenly reached out an impetuous hand to touch Wickham’s shoulder, “Oh, Mr. Wickham, my aunt just brought out the fishes for lottery; will you not join me?”
Mr. Wickham, with a genial smile, bowed his head toward Elizabeth and rose obediently to take his place at the table.
/
“Mr. Wickham is absolutely charming,” Lydia gushed as the Bennet ladies rattled their way back home. “Did you see how he stayed near me most of the evening, Mama? I daresay he will fall in love with me within the week!”
“A militia lieutenant?” Mrs. Bennet demanded irascibly. “What did I tell you about impoverished officers, Lydia?”
“I do not think that Mr. Wickham singled Lydia out in any way, Mama,” Jane said in a placating tone.
“He did not,” Mary declared. “He seemed most interested in Elizabeth of all of us, but he even spent a little time with me. He does seem a most charming young man.”
“I think Mr. Darcy wronged him in some way,” Kitty said timidly.
Elizabeth was aware of an intense surge of interest but said nothing; it was hardly wise to encourage her mother and sisters to gossip. She was not, of course, surprised, when her mother responded quickly and curiously, “Wronged him, my dear? In what way?”
“I am not entirely certain,” the second youngest Miss Bennet admitted. “He spoke briefly of a church living which was meant to go to him, but which Mr. Darcy awarded to another, but he did not provide details.”
“I am quite glad Mr. Wickham did not become a clergyman,” Lydia said. “He would not be nearly so handsome without his red coat.”
“In any case,” Jane added practically, “we do not know the details of this matter and thus it is pointless, and unkind, to speculate.”