Chapter 1 continued
Elizabeth caught up to the rest of their party with a growing certainty that all of the male sex were entirely more trouble than they were worth, another fact that had been well proven in the last several weeks. Between Mr. Collins' moodiness and the tall, handsome, yet thoroughly vexing Mr. Darcy who haunted her dreams, she was on the verge of vowing not to have anything to do with any of them. She still could not believe the way Darcy had so casually mentioned an arrangement between them, all the while insulting her very person, as well as her family. The nerve of him.
Yet again, she tried to put him from her thoughts, sensing that dwelling on him would do her no good. Having to do so merely reinforced the budding inclination that men as a whole might be best avoided for now, something she dearly wished that she could convince her sisters of until they were older. Unfortunately, she knew they would never listen.
Her unwanted companion trailed after her as they crossed the street, as though he had some right to judge the actions of her sisters and was determined to bring them to heel. In Mr. Collins' mind, the entailment of the estate had seemingly translated to an entailment of her entire family as well.
"Sisters!" she greeted them brightly, looking rather frankly from Mr. Denny to the newcomer, "Who shall we say is this?"
Lydia rushed to explain, her words tumbling over one another with such speed and exuberance that all Elizabeth was truly able to pull from the context was that the stranger's name was Mr. George Wickham, a fact that caused Mr. Collins to stiffen when he heard it. Mr. Denny joined in, explaining that this was his impoverished friend, Mr. Wickham, who had recently taken a commission with the regiment.
"We are ever so lucky to make your acquaintance," Kitty said with a coy giggle. "Our small town of Meryton is richer for having you here."
"Eh, if only there were any girls rich enough in Meryton, your little town might stand a chance of keeping him," Denny teased. elbowing his friend in the side. "Wickham here is always on the lookout."
Kitty winced beneath Mr. Denny's teasing, yet well-intentioned words. He gave her a little bow, as though in apology, but Lydia ignored his subtle jabs.
A soldier in search of a girl of fortune, indeed. Is no one genuine in their affections any more? Charlotte has said something of a similar nature too many times to count, that she would forgo romance for a comfortable home and merely amiable husband if the opportunity presented itself. Perhaps she is right and I am too romantic. Elizabeth dismissed the thought quickly. No matter. It is still possible that I find love, however unlikely. Perhaps I should travel and meet new people. After all, there are few here that I do not know, with the exception of the soldiers, and it does not seem that Meryton draws so very many visitors aside from Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy of late. Goodness knows that Mr. Darcy has proven himself untouched by romanticism, or he would not have insulted me so soundly, nor proposed marriage merely to escape the fate of being forced to wed Miss Anne de Bourgh. And without even doing me the honor of speaking with Papa about it first. He would have spoken with Papa if he had meant it.
There was little time to engage in conversation with Mr. Wickham on this note before a pair of horses thundered down the lane beside them, and their riders pulled up short to join the group.
She dared not look for a moment, as she just knew that it had to be him. Her heart pounded in her chest despite her valiant efforts to contain it, leaving her shaken. I do not want our first conversation after that sham of a proposal to be here, in front of everyone. What could he possibly have to say to me now? She felt as though she were at battle with herself, one part of her wishing that he would simply disappear forever and the other part burning with curiosity as to why he would have changed his opinion of her, finding her "more than tolerable" as he stated in Bingley's garden. She could not fathom a reason behind his sudden shift in sentiment, as she thought he had been quite clear in his dislike of her, for he had spoken often enough of the accomplishments he felt a true lady ought to have, and it was clear that she was not of that mold. She could not sing well, or play any instruments with a more than passable expertise, although she could read music quite well. Her drawing skills were detailed enough, but she imagined that sketching had little to do with the daily running of an estate as large as Pemberley. Perhaps the idea of marrying his cousin really was so displeasing to him that he would propose to anyone he happened to form a minimal acquaintance with. Not that it made a difference, of course.
"Miss Bennet," Mr. Bingley spoke first, the obvious affection in his voice making it clear that he was addressing Jane with his initial greeting. She blushed, and looked away. "Miss Bennet, Miss Bennet, Miss Bennet," he continued to greet the rest of them. "Sirs."
"Mr. Bingley. Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth returned the formality as coolly as possible, making note of the way Darcy's eyes remained on her person. She hurried through the introductions for Mr. Collins, who startled them all with his formal, yet familiar greeting for Mr. Darcy. It appeared that they were already well acquainted then, having met previously at the home of Mr. Collins' patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who was also Mr. Darcy's aunt.
Elizabeth waited impatiently as Mr. Denny went through the whole speech identifying Mr. Wickham all over again, who had been standing oddly behind him, and started when called forward. The soldier in question looked from Mr. Collins to Mr. Darcy and back again, then made his excuses to leave, citing that he had seen a friend with whom he had business to attend. Mr. Wickham then turned smartly and hurried down the street, much to Lydia's consternation.
Elizabeth found herself stepping back from the group once more as Lydia refocused her attention on her former favorite, Mr. Denny, and Mr. Bingley dismounted, then approached Jane. Darcy sighed from atop his great black horse and got down as well, as it was clear that Bingley was determined to stay.
He tried to catch her eye, but Elizabeth avoided him, instead pretending to rummage through her coin purse as though counting up her money. Darcy stood stiffly beside his mount while Mr. Collins looked on between them.
Why did they have to stop? What an absolute nuisance. They should have simply nodded and continued on their way, but I suppose Mr. Bingley really is enthralled with Jane. It is simply too bad that Mr. Darcy happens to be with him. Perhaps Bingley and Jane are the only couple lucky enough to taste the fruit of love, as everyone else seems to be only interested in the appearance of it. Elizabeth's thoughts grew even more scattered as Mr. Darcy came to stand beside her, waiting patiently for her to look up again.
Exasperated, she pulled the drawstring on her purse and dropped it back to its place at her side, no longer able to ignore him at this close proximity.
"Did you find what you were looking for, Miss Bennet?" he asked.
"That depends," she replied quietly. "It seems my dignity was not within, and since you had so little regard for it when we last spoke, I should take care with what miniscule amount I have left."
Darcy's jaw dropped in shock. He quickly closed it, then muttered, "It was not my intention to insult your dignity when I attempted to propose marriage to you, Miss Bennet. Indeed, I should think it was my own heart that was wounded when you told me the very idea was laughable."
Her chest tightened at the reminder of what was surely the worst jest in history. Never had she been more humiliated in her life, and when one was a Bennet, that was really saying something. "Wounded when I was told that you find me obstinate and difficult, or when you said that you find me tolerable against your better judgment?"
"I did not mean it like that."
"I think you did, sir. And I have no wish to relive any more of the experience, so if you do not mind, I think I should be on my way."