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George Wickham watched everyone attending the supper at Lucas Lodge carefully.

He cultivated the gentlemen with careful questions about their estates and ambitions for themselves and their children.

He spoke with each of the matrons and flirted gently with their eligible daughters.

After losing his patron, Old Mr Darcy, Wickham learned to control his passions and avoided situations with angry fathers because their daughters were despoiled.

With his handsome face, he never lacked feminine company, and many women in London shared their favours with him.

The arrival of the Bingley party without the younger sister was disappointing.

‘I cannot present myself to her without the opportunity to speak. And her brother will not make a suitable ambassador to speak of investment opportunities for her dowry,’ Wickham thought.

Then he studied Fitzwilliam Darcy for a time–the man has grown even more reserved since inheriting his father’s estate.

‘Unlimited gold and the minister’s ear will make Darcy think he is a god before reaching thirty years,’ Wickham mused. ‘I shall not tempt the lightning bolts he can throw my way. Perhaps Edith’s failure to move Miss Darcy to Ramsgate was fortuitous. An angry Fitzwilliam Darcy would trample me.’

Suddenly, George realized, ‘Lord, if he was angry enough, Darcy would have had me transported to Australia.’

Banishing such thoughts, Wickham turned his attention to the lovely ladies–without question, Jane Bennet was the loveliest young woman in Meryton.

Miss Saunders, Miss Rushing, Miss Goulding, and the other Bennet sisters were all comely and fairly well-mannered.

Some sang or played the instrument in the corner, and they all danced.

The youngest girls in long dresses were too immature for a man of Wickham’s tastes.

‘They are pretty but give them another year or two to grow to be women,’ he thought, considering them only as objects.

The most entertaining member of the party proved to be the parson who arrived with the Bennet family. The man spoke endlessly and while he appeared to capture each individual’s attention for a moment or two, the parson quickly overwhelmed them with a flood of words that left them glassy-eyed.

At supper, Miss Elizabeth Bennet sat on George’s left, and he questioned her carefully and learned the parson who never ran out of words was her father’s cousin and heir.

“An entailment then?” asked George. “Only a male heir can inherit?”

“Yes, Mr Wickham. My sisters and I cannot inherit.”

“And if there is more than one son, only the eldest can inherit. The powerful lords make certain that power and money remain concentrated in the hands of one heir,” he added. “I understand how you feel.”

“How I feel?” she asked, not understanding the man’s statement.

“The home you have known all your life will be lost to you upon your father’s death. That happens to younger sons and daughters. Natural children of the powerful men are excluded also.”

Elizabeth blushed hearing that last statement, and he apologised. But the young woman replied, “No, sir. I am coming to understand that it is the way of the world. History is full of the tales of dalliances by our kings.”

“Many of those men take care of their natural children.” George stumbled before he continued, “We…they cannot inherit the estate.”

Elizabeth heard the carefully worded slip but said nothing about Mr Wickham’s situation. She made no inquiries of the man and would not ask Mr Darcy about Wickham’s statement. But she would remember them.

Then George asked about the character of Mr Collins, and Elizabeth visibly winced.

To allow the young woman to consider her response, George continued, “My old friend, Fitzwilliam Darcy, seldom interferes in the affairs of persons. When he was young, his father taught him the Darcy family is above all other persons and the problems of such people were not worthy of his notice.”

“A most unfortunate view of the world,” Elizabeth opined. Then she asked, “But why?”

George looked away; his expression one of a painful memory.

Then he continued weaving his tale. “In my childhood, I wanted to attend university and as Old Mr Darcy’s godson, he paid for me to attend with Fitzwilliam–Young Mr Darcy.

But when Old Mr Darcy passed, I needed to attend another year to become a clergyman, and Fitzwilliam refused to assist me. ”

Elizabeth remained silent, and George prompted her, “Please, Miss Elizabeth, I did not mean to confuse or overwhelm you with my stories. I merely was interested in the character of your cousin.”

“I should try to model myself on Mr Darcy and not express an opinion about others,” Elizabeth said. “But I cannot. I am sorry for your loss Mr Wickham. Would you have made a good member of the clergy?”

The young woman glanced toward the verbose parson seated at another table and dominating the conversation among the diners before she added, “Mr Collins speaks without ceasing and exhibits no common sense. He is a parson, but I fear for the parishioners sitting through one of his sermons. I believe he has learned to inhale while still speaking.”

“And what does he speak of for so long? The Psalms or New Testament?”

“Neither unfortunately. If Mr Collins spoke of the Bible, we could at least participate. He speaks exhaustively about his patroness, a noble lady named Catherine de Bourgh, who lives in Kent.”

George had led Miss Elizabeth to believe he was the natural son of Old Mr Darcy, and that Young Mr Darcy resented his natural brother to some degree. He debated revealing the connection between Darcy and Lady Catherine for a moment but then proceeded.

“Miss Elizbeth, your cousin is…his patroness is the maternal aunt of Mr Darcy. Lady Catherine was the sister of Mr Darcy’s mother, Lady Anne.

Naturally, I remained out of the aunt’s sight whenever she visited Pemberley while growing up, but I believe Mr Darcy remains close to his aunt and her daughter. ”

“Mr Darcy’s aunt? Oh Lord,” Elizabeth said, rising from the table before the meal was completed. “Forgive me, Mr Wickham, I must speak to my father this instant.”

~~~

Mr Bennet listened carefully to his daughter’s tale of the relationship between Mr Darcy and the patroness of Mr Collins.

They were standing in a hallway away from the rest of the dinner party–the dessert offered was not a particular favourite of Thomas Bennet, and his daughter’s countenance promised an interesting bit of news when she drew him away from the table.

She began by announcing, “Father, Mr Wickham asked about Mr Collins during supper.”

“Lizzy, everyone was speaking of my cousin during supper. Those conversations will continue through the entire evening.”

“No…yes,” Elizabeth stumbled. “Mr Collins speaks of his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Mr Wickham just revealed that the lady is aunt to Mr Darcy.”

“Really?” asked Thomas. “His aunt?”

Elizabeth glanced around the hallway and asked, “What shall we do?”

“Other than enjoying the excitement and conversations to come, I do not understand your meaning, Lizzy.”

“Papa, you must make Mr Darcy aware of the connection before Mr Collins declares the news to the general audience in Lucas Lodge. Once the parson learns of Mr Darcy’s connection, he will hound the man in every room for the rest of the evening.”

“I believe Mr Darcy is prepared to withstand slings and arrows as Mr Collins can throw.”

“Please, Papa. It will be an embarrassment to our entire family for your cousin to attach himself to Mr Darcy’s arm like a leech the physicians use to pull blood from people.”

“A leech? That is an unpleasant image, Lizzy,” said Mr Bennet. After a moment’s reflection, her father continued, “Very well. Let us find Mr Darcy and make the connection known to the man.”

Once they returned to the parlour, it took several minutes to find Mr Darcy; the gentleman was with the other gentlemen in Sir William’s office, sipping bourbon before joining the ladies.

At Sir William’s desk, Mr Collins regaled everyone with a tale of the benevolent behaviour of his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

Elizabeth remained in the hallway when her father entered the small room, and when she heard the parson’s voice, she knew her father’s message would not be necessary. Without any valid reason to linger in the hallway, she returned to the parlour, where the ladies waited for the gentlemen to return.

Thomas Bennet stopped in his progress through the room when Collins announced the name of his patroness again, but he did catch Mr Darcy’s eye.

The visitor was silent and kept his face placid, making no sign that he recognized his aunt’s name.

Bennet noticed that Darcy sought out the face of George Wickham, who smiled and inclined his head slightly.

Thomas wondered, ‘Was that Wickham’s purpose in telling Lizzy about the connection? Did he think my daughter would insist I warn Mr Darcy?’

Seeking Lucas’s bourbon rather than brandy, Thomas decided to observe the growing number of interesting people in Lucas Lodge.

He took only a single finger of spirits, thinking, ‘I need my head clear tonight and tomorrow. Perhaps Collins will offer some entertainment, but two weeks is certainly too long to shelter a fool. Can I foster him on any family and restore some semblance of peace in my house?’

~~~

When the gentlemen joined the ladies, Lady Lucas directed the officers and gentlemen to arrange the furniture in the parlour to allow for entertainment, Elizabeth decided the meal had been adequate.

Charlotte, her brother, mother, and father seemed pleased with the results of their evening.

While waiting for the entertainment to begin, Elizabeth found Mr Darcy at her side.

Elizabeth smiled pleasantly. “Mr Darcy, have you enjoyed the evening thus far?”

The man replied, “It is adequate for an evening in the country.”

While she would not mention the confidences shared by Mr Wickham, Elizabeth confessed, “That is how I felt about supper. The food was good, but the conversation was restricted to the training routine of the militia, London fashions, and the Crown Prince.”

Startled to hear someone else was less than entertained, Darcy confirmed her statement, “The stories many people share about Prince George are hardly suitable dinner conversation. But even gentlemen at my club in London always have the latest tales of the man’s misadventures.”

Elizabeth continued, “I believe that while women are described as prone to gossip, men are equally capable of telling tales and embellishing the facts to make a story more exciting.”

“Do you refer to me?” asked Darcy rather quickly.

“What? No, indeed, Mr Darcy. In our short acquaintance, I do not believe I have ever heard you tell any tale of another person.”

The man nodded, “I always try to speak truthfully and avoid characterising other persons.”

“An admirable goal,” Elizabeth said guardedly, as though she expected to be censured in some way with the gentleman’s next words.

However, Mr Darcy explained, “My reticence to talk about others often leads persons to assume I have little to say.”

Elizabeth argued, “But there are many topics on which we can speak; the weather, crops, roads, bills before parliament, and Bonaparte.”

“For a time, perhaps, but even that conversation grows old,” replied the gentleman.

“Then you must speak about books, Mr Darcy. There are always thoughts and ideas on paper that can be discussed.”

“If the other persons have read the books, Miss Elizabeth.”

The young woman sighed and agreed, “You have uncovered the greatest difficulty in my life, Mr Darcy. My father is a great reader, but he will spend only so many minutes in the day discussing the meanings in Shakespeare’s Othello or Hamlet.”

Darcy smiled and replied, “Perhaps your father can take you to Oxford or Cambridge someday. The school would allow you to listen to the professors and dons discuss literature, history, science, and mathematics.”

“Truly, would they allow me to listen?” she asked. “What if I wanted to share my opinions?”

The man blinked and replied, “Some would listen and debate with you while others would decry the opinion of any woman as ill-formed for lack of education.”

Frowning for once, the young woman pointed out, “But ladies are not provided the same education as gentlemen because they will not allow us that opportunity.”

Rather than discuss that fact of life, Darcy asked, “Is there not anyone else in your life with the desire to read?”

“My sister Mary is a great reader but favours religious tracts, and we can only speak on Fordyce’s Sermons so many times,” Elizabeth confessed.

“Those writings are meant to guide young girls to womanhood.”

“Have you read them, Mr Darcy?”

“Only in passing,” he admitted. “My sister must read them at some point in the future.”

Looking him in the eye, Elizabeth asked, “And will your sister speak truthfully to you, or will she tell you what she thinks you want to hear?”

They paused for a moment while Fitzwilliam Darcy considered the question carefully.

Before they could continue their discussion, Charlotte Lucas arrived with Mr Collins and insisted that Elizabeth perform on the instrument in the corner to entertain the party.

Mr Darcy did not acknowledge Mr Collins and stepped away from the couple.

Once Elizabeth began to play, Charlotte turned to Mr Collins and asked, “Now, what was it you were saying about the gardens around your parsonage, sir?”

~~~

After her turn on the instrument, Elizabeth moved to stand along the wall and watch her youngest sisters dance with officers while the other persons exchanged remarks. She saw Mr Darcy frown while he watched Bingley and Jane join the dancers, and she saw Mr Wickham approach Mr Collins to talk.

When the evening ended, the Bennet family climbed into the crowded carriage and suffered the entire journey to Longbourn listening to Mr Collins speak on the many pleasant persons he had met at Lucas Lodge.

The clergyman’s rambling remembrance of the evening’s conversations prevented anyone else from speaking.

Elizabeth did not pay attention to her cousin’s speech until his subject turned to the pleasant Miss Charlotte Lucas.

Lydia and Kitty were asleep by that time, and Mrs Bennet would have spoken but for the look on her husband’s face.

Jane and Mary exchanged glances but also remained silent.

~~~