Page 38 of Out of His Wits (Pride and Prejudice Variation)
Elizabeth remained silent, allowing her sisters to work through the implications themselves.
“Oh dear,” Lydia said after a moment. “Do you suppose Lieutenant Wilkins could have meant Mr. Darcy specifically?”
“The circumstances do correspond remarkably,” Kitty admitted reluctantly.
“But that would mean—” Lydia’s voice trailed off as she grappled with the implications.
“What would it mean?” Kitty asked, looking between her sisters with growing unease.
Elizabeth chose her words carefully. “If Lieutenant Wilkins is indeed speaking of Mr. Darcy, first we must ask ourselves why he chooses to hint rather than speak plainly. Why does he whisper in corners rather than speaking openly? His preference for dark hints over clear statements reveals much about his character. Slander thrives in shadows for good reason. Such circumspection suggests he knows his tales would not withstand scrutiny.”
The sisters exchanged uncertain glances. Kitty spoke first, her voice hesitant. “But why would Lieutenant Wilkins wish to cause harm to Mr. Darcy’s reputation?”
“That is what troubles me,” Elizabeth replied. “If his stories are true, why not speak openly? Why hint and suggest rather than make direct accusations? And if they are not true, what is he about?”
“Do you think Lieutenant Wilkins is deliberately trying to turn everyone against Mr. Darcy?” Lydia asked, her voice growing small.
Elizabeth set down her needlework entirely. “Girls, I must ask you something, and I hope you will answer me honestly. Has Lieutenant Wilkins shown particular attention to either of you?”
Both sisters blushed prettily, exchanging meaningful glances.
“He has been quite particular in his attentions to all the young ladies,” Lydia said with gleeful pleasure. “Such charming manners! Such address!”
“That was not precisely my question,” said Elizabeth, with deliberate care. “I must own, I harbour certain doubts regarding his character.”
“What manner of doubts?” Kitty asked, her earlier enthusiasm beginning to fade.
“Pray consider what is truly known of Lieutenant Wilkins,” said Elizabeth with quiet gravity.
“Beyond an agreeable manner and a pleasing countenance, what may be said of his family or fortune? Where is he from, exactly, and why has he chosen the militia at his age? If he professes to have been promised a living, has he taken orders?”
The sisters exchanged glances, their earlier enthusiasm wavering.
“Well,” Lydia said slowly, “he is forever going on about how poorly he was treated by that gentleman in Derbyshire.”
“Yes, but what of his family’s estate? His family?
Officers are generally presumed to be gentlemen of some fortune, are they not?
Has he no income of his own? If he relied so wholly upon that living, what does it imply regarding his situation in life?
Did he perhaps take a position in the militia for compensation, on behalf of some gentleman of means?
” Elizabeth looked from Lydia’s blue eyes to Kitty’s hazel ones, each showing uncertainty.
Kitty frowned thoughtfully. “If he had family property, he would not have needed the living so desperately.”
“If he was paid money to take a gentleman’s place—as many do when they lack sufficient funds—then he has very little to recommend him beyond his uniform and his charm.
” Elizabeth paused to let her sisters take this in.
“A man in such circumstances might well resort to questionable methods to improve his situation.”
The room fell silent as both sisters absorbed the implications of Elizabeth’s words.
“Well, I daresay it is not quite so desperate,” said Mrs. Bennet, who had resumed her seat and was now fanning herself.
“He is a handsome young officer, and the militia do bring such colour to the neighbourhood. I do not like Mr. Darcy, and I see no harm in giving a little attention to a more agreeable gentleman.”
“Oh dear,” Kitty whispered. “We know so little about him, really. He could be anyone.”
“Do you think he has been telling us these tales so we would gossip about Mr. Darcy?” Lydia’s voice trailed off as the full scope of their potential manipulation became clear.
“I must urge you both to be cautious. Until we know more about Lieutenant Wilkins’s true character and circumstances, perhaps it would be wise to avoid being alone in his company.
We cannot know what version of events is true without more evidence, but we can refrain from being instruments of harm to either gentleman.
You need say nothing, merely exercise caution. ” Elizabeth said softly but firmly,
After a moment’s pause, both sisters gave their assent in low voices. Nonetheless, Elizabeth feared their resolution would falter the instant the engaging lieutenant renewed his attentions.
Elizabeth had a new novel, its pages still uncut, and she idly toyed with her folding knife between turning the pages.
Hill appeared at the door with a message: Mr. Darcy had called and requested to speak with both her and her father on a matter of urgency.
. With no small trepidation, she set aside her book and made her way to where the gentlemen awaited her in her father’s study.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy rose as she entered, his expression grave. “I am obliged to you for receiving me. I was just apprising your father of certain information that has come to my notice regarding Lieutenant Wilkins, which must be addressed without delay.”
Mr. Bennet leant back in his chair. “It appears there is some rather unsettling news concerning one of our gallant militia officers. Mr. Darcy comes furnished with a tale I daresay you will find of interest.”
Darcy nodded slightly, his voice carefully measured. “Yesterday evening, I had occasion to observe Lieutenant Wilkins at the Swan. I can state that the man presently passing under that name is, in fact, George Wickham—a man with whom I have a considerable and unfortunate history.”
Elizabeth regarded him with interest. “You are certain of this identification?”
“Entirely certain. I have known Wickham since boyhood.” Darcy’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “His presence here, under an assumed name, gives rise to questions more troubling than any mere coincidence might suggest.”
Mr. Bennet leant forward in his chair. “You are persuaded that this curious development is somehow linked to the mishap at Netherfield?”
“I am quite convinced of it, which is why I must request a considerable favour.” He turned to Elizabeth.
“Mrs. Nicholls, in the course of questioning Bet Younge has discovered that she possesses certain intelligence regarding Lieutenant Wilkins. However, the nature of the inquiry requires a gentlewoman’s presence.
Mr. Bingley and I agree that Mrs. Hurst’s present indisposition renders her quite unsuitable for such an office, and Miss Bingley would…
we do not believe the girl would speak freely before her.
. Would you be willing to accompany me to Netherfield for this purpose? ”
Elizabeth glanced at her father, who nodded his approval with interest in the proceedings. “Of course, Mr. Darcy. If Mrs. Nicholls believes she might be more at ease with a lady present, I am quite willing to oblige her.”
“Most kind. I took the liberty of bringing my carriage to transport you, with your maid as attendant, if that would be agreeable?”
Mr. Bennet nodded again. “Off with you. I shall make your excuses to your mother. Otherwise, you would be delayed a quarter-hour whilst she arranges her greetings to deliver to Mr. Bingley.” “Certainly. I shall collect my pelisse and let Sarah know she is to attend me.”
The journey to Netherfield in Mr. Darcy’s elegant equipage passed in relative quiet, with Sarah seated beside Elizabeth providing the necessary propriety.
Mr. Darcy seemed lost in contemplation. Upon their arrival, they were shown immediately to the housekeeper’s office where Mrs. Nicholls awaited them with the composed dignity that marked her as a superior housekeeper.
“Mrs. Nicholls,” said Darcy as they took their seats, “I am obliged to you. As I mentioned yesterday, certain developments have rendered Bet’s account of greater interest than we first supposed.”
The housekeeper inclined her head gravely. “Indeed, sir. I have been troubled by several aspects of that girl’s account since our conversation.”
“What has troubled you?” Elizabeth asked without reproach.
“Well, miss, when I first questioned Bet about the mushroom gathering, she was quite forthcoming—perhaps too much so. She was very eager to place all blame upon poor Tibby and seemed to have her story well prepared. But since then when I pressed her privately for particulars concerning the gentleman she turned quite close and would say no more. I have begun to think she may have bee n used ill and is now afraid to own it.”
“What did she say of him?” Darcy inquired.
“She provided his name readily enough - George Wilkins, she said - but when I asked what more she might say of his family, his circumstances, or his background, she was quite guarded.”
Elizabeth and Darcy exchanged meaningful glances.
“Did she describe this gentleman at all?” Elizabeth asked.
“Only in the most general terms—handsome, charming, well-spoken. She claimed he had asked her not to speak of any particulars about him.” Mrs. Nicholls’s expression grew troubled.
“It struck me as odd, miss. A girl who had been boasting to the other servants about her gentleman friend suddenly becoming so secretive when questioned.”
“What did say about this supposed courtship?” Darcy asked.
“Very little of substance, sir. She claimed they had been meeting for several weeks, that he had shown her great attention and spoken of—” Mrs. Nicholls paused, her cheeks colouring. “She claimed he had spoken of marriage, sir, but she was rather vague about the particulars.”
“As to the mushrooms—what did she say of how they were acquired?