Chapter 10

Elizabeth was relieved to receive a favourable reply to her letter to Michael. The turmoil of the days succeeding Mr Collins' failed and accepted proposals had pushed from her mind the problem that Mr Wickham created. Something in Mr Darcy's face informed her that Mr Wickham did pose a danger to the people of Meryton and its surroundings, so she had taken steps. As part of her duties in the morning after the ball, she had written to Michael requesting the help of a Bow Street Runner or a thief-taker - anyone who could do the job of surveillance. She had also asked Henry, Mr Davis's son, to keep an eye out. Andrew had always said the young man was the best hunter he had ever known, for he could track the devil himself and go undetected. What he had to report was worrying. The gentleman, in the little time he had been here, had accumulated 20 pounds in credit. Those debts she had collected. There were rumours of debts of honour and Henry had reported of some dalliance with the Inn's upstairs maid. In his letter, Michael praised her ingenuity and had sent a young man just recently discharged from the army for injuries. He was to be expected the next day.

With her thoughts on Mr Wickham, they naturally turned to Mr Darcy. She did not know how to feel on hearing of his departure. A week later, she was still disappointed in his actions at Netherfield. Since the incident, she had returned to her previous opinion of him. He was abominably proud and dismissive of the people of Hertfordshire.

She was glad that an invitation to her mother's tea had coincided with the arrival of Mr Martin Lewis. Mr Lewis was a tall and intimidating man. He would have remained so even without scars running from his right temple and into the collar of his shirt. During a brief conversation with him, he told her that the damages to his right side had resulted in him being ineffective as a soldier, and his appearance made him unsuitable for servant's work. After negotiating pay, she had told him of her plan to orchestrate an outing to the gardens that she might make Mr Wickham known to him. Whilst she remained in Hertfordshire, Henry would make an obvious show of watching the gentleman, to bring him to heel, and Mr Lewis would covertly watch him. When she left for London, Henry would leave with her and Mr Lewis would stay behind. She informed him that if she was pleased with his work he may be assured of a more permanent role in her household staff.

The afternoon proved to be abysmal. A week was not sufficient time for Mrs Bennet to recover from her shock. Her determination to show herself as being unaffected by recent events, per her husband's suggestion, had been largely unsuccessful.

The party was a mirage of entertainment by the young people, interspersed with insults levied on all her children in one form or another. Jane was a spinster, Elizabeth selfish, Mary foolish and Kitty inconsequential. So, an excursion to the garden needed no orchestrating. It was suggested by Mr Denny, who collected Kitty and one by one the young people followed suit, leaving the hens to their tea. On collecting her outerwear, Elizabeth called for Henry to accompany them.

She had noticed Mr Wickham's attempts to gain her attention throughout the afternoon and had strategically placed herself so that she might politely ignore him. When he raised an eyebrow at the presence of the accompanying footman, she said nothing but collected the arm he offered. By his design, they ended up a safe distance from the rest of the party.

"I hope Lady Rockwood you are not angry with me for my absence at Netherfield? I was told that my presence was missed." He gave a pleasing smile. "It was my desire to avoid embarrassing anyone and I could not trust my self-control, in Mr Darcy's presence, not to exchange a few sharp words." He stopped to stare at her face, so she pulled back, letting go of his arm. He seemed to hold his breath as she contemplated her words. As she opened her mouth to speak she saw the beginning of what would have been a smirk and so she widened the gap between them.

"Let us not deceive ourselves, Mr Wickham, I am not a fool." The smirk turned into a scowl. "I will be brief. I have in my possession a receipt for 20 pounds owed by one Mr George Wickham. I am sure more can be collected if I went searching. It is in your best interest that I do not go searching, Mr Wickham." His jaw clenched and Henry stepped forward. "For the duration of your stay here, you will be that upstanding gentleman that you so easily portray. You do that and no one need ever know of this unpleasant business. It is not in your best interest that I collect more than twenty pounds in Meryton. Mr Davis here will be my eyes where you are concerned. Any distasteful business will result in the immediate calling in of your debt to me. The level of my displeasure will determine how far I search for more of your debts. The ladies in this county are to be your sisters unless you make one of them your wife. I am not unreasonable Mr Wickham, your options are to quit the Militia and leave Meryton or be a gentleman."

He took a hard look at Mr Davis, then turning to their returning company. "Madam, I see that you have been speaking to Mr Darcy."

Her laughter was hollow, "we both know Mr Darcy is too proud to speak to me." He must have seen the truth in her eyes for he relented. "I will make your excuses to my mother." He turned and left, for the first time feeling the despair of the ladies he hunted.

She gave a nod to both Henry and Mr Lewis as they both went about their mutual task. When Elizabeth was alone, Mary came and linked arms with her as she asked, "is it done?"

When the opportunity arose, she told Mary of her suspicions with regards to Mr Wickham. Unsurprisingly, neither of them could think of how to share the news with Jane. When next she heard of Mr Wickham he was said to be courting, with the greatest respect to propriety, Miss King.

With such unpleasant business out of the way and with her mother's nerves calming down, Elizabeth could finally turn her attentions to the upcoming Christmas festivities. She was excited; her dear Aunt and Uncle, Mr and Mrs Gardiner, would be staying with her at Purvis Lodge. It had been decided that such an arrangement allowed the children to play with exuberance, without inciting Mrs Bennet's nerves.

With fresh ears to complain to, Mrs Bennet was in her element. But as the time also signalled the advent of Elizabeth's return to London society, Mrs Bennet had found it in her heart to forgive her daughters. They were charged not to return to Hertfordshire without suitable conquests. Mr Bingley was completely out of the question with regards to Jane and Mary must put herself forward or be sent home.

As they watched their children play, Elizabeth told her aunt of all that had occurred since they last spoke. Elizabeth wrote frequently, but with all that had happened in the space of a month, clarification was requested and given. They talked of all that had been planned for her and her sisters' presentation at court, Mrs Gardiner was glad that some of Elizabeth's friends had remained loyal.

Andrew had loved her aunt and uncle. Although he had been very reserved at first (he was sensible of the differences in their station), but for her sake, he had come to measure them against the merits of their character. She was happy when he came to respect her uncle as a man of business and was glad to see that it was not just for her sake that he engaged in their company. Her aunt and uncle had never sought for what they could gain by their acquaintance and so allowed him to get to know them on his terms.

Her aunt had proved to be invaluable to Elizabeth during her marriage - she had been her niece's first confidante when problems had arisen. It was the sage advice of her aunt that kept her from dwelling in perpetual discontent. Her aunt was the first person she wrote to on Philip's birth and the first person to receive word of Andrew's death. Elizabeth despised the rules that meant her aunt would be excluded from her society, but she recognised that it would be too much to ask of Lady Julia, and the Gardiners were not established enough to warrant admittances into the first circles.

There had been some time to conference with Mr Bennet. As the exodus to town drew nearer, Mr Bennet had tried to insist that his presence would not be needed for his daughters. But Elizabeth was firm, his presence would ensure that Jane and Mary could not be challenged on their lineage. The added weight of the Gardiners and Mary's persuasions caused him to relent. He would accompany his daughters, but he would return as soon as they had curtseyed to the Queen.

Christmas was wonderful. Everyone was looking forward to Elizabeth's move into London society except Elizabeth. Jane and Mary considered the renewal of friendships they had formed in South Yorkshire, for they were still in active correspondence with some. Kitty looked forward to when it might be her opportunity and Lydia looked forward to a time when she would have just her mother to persuade. Mrs Bennet had never liked Mrs Hopkins and was more likely to go against her than her daughter. But Elizabeth could enjoy the time with family, for she felt a change coming.

On the fifth day of the new year, after Philip had been put to bed, Elizabeth made her way through the house that had served her so well. It was her anchor at a time when she had felt the floors beneath her feet give way. But no matter what happened from now on, this would likely be the last time she would call it home. She was set to meet her travelling companions tomorrow at Longbourn to make her final goodbyes. More servants from Nettleham had been sent to the townhouse, and truth be told she was rather nervous. She would finally be a true mistress to them, and she knew she had not made a good impression the last time she saw them.

It was bittersweet when she finally laid her head to rest.

Elizabeth knew she was dreaming. Although she was in her carriage, the tell-tale sign that she was dreaming was the beautiful little girl who sat across from her. What was striking about the girl was how much she resembled her. Elizabeth watched the little girl as she played with the ribbons on her dress, twisting it round and round her little finger. More sensible of her surroundings, she could hear Philip talking about horses to her right. She turned to her boy and was surprised to see how much older he looked; he was truly his father's son. She turned her attention back to the girl, was she her daughter? Was this the life she could have had?

"Philly don't do that! Mama look!" Transfixed at the young girl's voice, she was slow to turn to looked to see what her son was doing that had earned his sister's disapproval. He had opened the carriage window and his hands were hanging out of it.

"Philip stop that!" That was not her voice. As she turned to see who was rebuking her son, Elizabeth woke up.

She would not remember her dream later on in the morning. But as she returned to her sleep, she thought, 'it was not Andrew's voice'.

All her preparations had paid off. So when Elizabeth entered into the carriage with her son, her sisters and her father, she felt ready for the unknown.