A/N: I uploaded four chapters at the same time, and I'm noticing via stats that a lot of people are just reading Chap. 12 and missing Chapters 9, 10, and 11. So if things seem to be jumping around or not making sense, click back a couple of chapters! :)
xxx
After the hectic nature of the previous month, things at Longbourn had slowed down-nearly to the point of boredom. Elizabeth missed Jane dreadfully, although she knew Jane was better off occupied in London than idle in Hertfordshire. The two wrote to one another nearly every day. Jane remained silent on the matter of the Bingleys, which led Elizabeth to suspect Jane had not encountered any of them. Elizabeth was sad for her sister, but she wondered if it was not for the best. She feared if Jane did see any of the Bingleys, it would undo any emotional healing that had happened over the prior weeks.
Elizabeth's life had one bright point: she had more time to spend with Mr. Wickham. They often walked with Lydia and another of the officers back to Longbourn from town. The air was brisk, but neither Elizabeth or Lydia seemed to mind, and the officers were always in fine humor.
"How does Mrs. Collins find her new home?" Wickham inquired.
"She seems very happy," replied Elizabeth. "She says the parsonage is a very welcoming house, and Mr. Collins gave her leave to decorate it as she sees fit. Her letters are full of nothing but joy."
"What does she think of her husband's patroness?"
Elizabeth's lips quirked into a smile. "Kitty speaks highly of Lady Catherine, but I get the sense she is more afraid than impressed. I think Lady Catherine may not be quite as genial as Mr. Collins would have us believe."
"No!" said Wickham in mock horror. "I cannot imagine a relative of Mr. Darcy's could be anything other than sunny and kind."
"Will you tell me what conspired between you and Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked, giving voice to the question that had intrigued her since the Netherfield Ball. "I know you said there is a connection between your families, but you spoke as if he had offended you in some way in the past."
"Quite perceptive, Miss Elizabeth," Mr. Wickham said with a smile. "It is true Mr. Darcy caused me great harm."
"Would you be willing to speak of what happened?"
Mr. Wickham sighed. "I do not want to speak poorly of a man who is not here to defend himself, but as long as I speak the truth, my words cannot injure him-only his own conduct can do so. Mr. Darcy and I were raised quite nearly as brothers. My father was his father's steward, and old Mr. Darcy was exceedingly fond of me. Both old Mr. Darcy and my father died within a few months of each other. Mr. Darcy had thought of my future. He told young Mr. Darcy I ought to have the finest living available in the estate, as soon as it came available, but when the time arrived, young Mr. Darcy denied me the living I was promised. That is why I joined the militia."
Elizabeth stared at him, her eyes getting wider and wider as he spoke.
"Do not fret," Mr. Wickham said. "If I remained in Derbyshire, I never would have made your acquaintance, and what a tragedy that would be!"
Elizabeth smiled. "You are putting a fine face on it, but the way he treated you was shameful."
"It was purely jealousy. Old Mr. Darcy loved me like a son-loved me even more than his own son. Young Mr. Darcy could not see beyond that fact. He harmed me in the most effective way he could, in order to get revenge for the fact his father loved me more."
"I wonder that you could bear to be in the same room as him at the Netherfield Ball."
"You will notice I kept my distance. Although I tell myself my behavior ought not to change based on his presence, I can hardly so much as look at him. And when he went further and insulted you during the ball? It was nothing but your pleas that kept me from confronting him that night. I do wonder if he had heard of the friendship you and I have. I suspect he would like nothing more than to take something else I hold dear-and you certainly fit in that category."
Elizabeth blushed. "You are so kind, sir."
Mr. Wickham stopped walking, and Elizabeth stopped beside him. He took her hand. She was shocked by the familiarity of the action, but she did not immediately pull her hand away.
"I am not kind," he said, looking into her eyes. "I am simply honest. You are an extraordinary woman, Miss Elizabeth."
Elizabeth looked into the deep brown of Mr. Wickham's eyes and saw nothing disagreeable in them. He sounded quite sincere, but she was not sure of his exact goal. She stared at him for far longer than was proper, and noticed a wide smile played across his face. Remembering herself, she finally broke eye contact and dropped his hand.
"Lydia is so far ahead. We should endeavor to catch up."
"Anything my lady wishes," Mr. Wickham said with a small bow.
They did not talk much for the remainder of the walk, but every time they looked at one another, they smiled as if they shared a secret.
Later that day, Lydia found Elizabeth alone in the sitting room.
"What did you and Mr. Wickham speak of?" Lydia asked.
"Just what we are always speaking of," said Elizabeth, straining to keep her voice light and not succeeding particularly well.
"I think not. I looked back at one point and he was holding your hand. Lizzy, are you and Mr. Wickham secretly engaged?"
Elizabeth would rue what came out of her mouth next.
"If I told you, it could not very well be a secret, could it?"
"I knew it! I told Denny Mr. Wickham was proposing, but he did not think so! Wait until I tell him I was right."
"But you were not right," said Elizabeth, trying to undo the damage of her previous statement. "I only meant if we were engaged, I would not tell you if I intended it to stay a secret."
Lydia smiled. "I understand you completely, and I assure you I will be the picture of discretion."
"There is nothing to be discreet about!" Elizabeth said, frustration creeping into her voice. "Mr. Wickham and I are not engaged, secretly or otherwise!"
"If you say so, Lizzy. Do not worry, I will not speak of it to anyone."
"I hope you will not, because there is nothing to tell. Do you understand, Lydia? No offer was made."
"Of course," Lydia said with a sly smile. She then left the room quickly and purposefully, leaving Elizabeth to ponder the fact she might have just made a very unfortunate mistake.
The conversation with Lydia forced Elizabeth to confront certain thoughts that she had intentionally been avoiding. The conversation between her and Mr. Wickham was unusual, almost extraordinary. She had been shocked to hear of how poorly Mr. Darcy had treated Mr. Wickham-especially considering the air of superiority Darcy had about him! Elizabeth wished she could tell people about what a blackguard Mr. Darcy was, but she did not want to be so open about Mr. Wickham's personal business. She did spend several very satisfying minutes imagining how shocked people would be if they knew the truth about Darcy.
However, Mr. Darcy was not the topic Elizabeth tried so hard not to think of. Many of Mr. Wickham's actions and words earlier in the day had given her the impression he might like to tie his life to hers. He behaved more like her fiancé than her friend on their walk home. Elizabeth remembered the way his hand felt as it held hers, his grip somehow both strong and gentle at the same time. She felt a chill go down her spine at the thought of his eyes looking so intently into hers. It was difficult for her to deny she found him enjoyable to be around.
But was that enough? If Mr. Wickham was, indeed, preparing to propose, Elizabeth supposed she ought to give the idea some thought. She imagined life as Mr. George Wickham. He seemed like he would be an affectionate husband, and one who would be willing to listen to her ideas. She knew she could certainly do much worse-imagine being chained to that horrible Mr. Darcy!-but she was not sure her feelings about Mr. Wickham rose to the high standard she held for her future husband. Elizabeth had no intention of marrying someone just to be married. If that had been her concern, then she would have accepted Mr. Collins' offer. She did esteem Mr. Wickham, and she found him handsome and agreeable. What more could she possibly want in a husband? When people fell in love, was that not just another way of saying they found the person attractive and amiable?
Elizabeth further imagined what it would be like to be married to a militia officer. She needed think no further than the example of Colonel and Mrs. Forster. Mrs. Forster moved with the militia, but she did not seem to mind the instability of moving from place to place. Indeed, she appeared to enjoy meeting people, and she had ample opportunity to do so. Elizabeth imagined moving to different places, to seeing different parts of the country. Her natural curiosity about the world meant this thought was not a bad one. She would have the chance to see many different areas of the country, and meet all sorts of people.
Elizabeth then imagined arriving at a ball on the arm of Mr. Wickham, handsomely clad in his red regimental. She smiled to herself at the thought. They would make a striking couple, and how many young girls in the room would stare at her with envy? Elizabeth shook her head. Her daydreaming was making her think like Lydia, and that alarmed her. No more of those thoughts. She could be rational and reasonable, even about falling in love.
But regardless of her intentions the vision of dancing with Mr. Wickham continued to replay itself in her mind. In spite of what her head might think, her heart seemed to already be decided.
Elizabeth looked forward to the letters she received from Jane. This fact did not surprise her. What did surprise her was the fact she looked forward to her letters from Kitty almost as much. Kitty was surprisingly adept at letter-writing, and Elizabeth often saw an insight and a humor in Kitty's letters that she had never recognized in the girl herself. Marriage, instead of stifling Kitty, rather encouraged her to become the best version of herself. Elizabeth was delighted to get to know her sister better through these letters.
For this reason, Elizabeth was immediately receptive to Kitty's invitation to visit Hunsford.
Dear sister, I should so like to introduce you to my home and my life in Kent, wrote Kitty.
Elizabeth realized she would enjoy that as well, and it would be a welcome change from the quiet. She was saddened at the idea of not seeing Mr. Wickham for some time, but the more she thought about the situation, the more she realized the distance would give her time to consider what she hoped for from their relationship, and she might also gain the clarity she longed for in deciding how to proceed.
"Meryton will be a sadder town without you," Wickham said when she told him of her planned trip. "With whom shall I converse? No one as amiable as Miss Elizabeth."
"I suspect you will survive the separation. Perhaps when I return, I will find you besotted with another girl, and I will be forgotten."
"It is more likely the moon will crash into the village square. It is not every day a man finds a friend such as you. It is not every lifetime."
Even though she was becoming more used to his compliments, this one was so effusive she felt her cheeks reddening. She had a fleeting thought that a trip to Hunsford would be a trip away from the danger of Mr. Wickham. If he kept speaking to her in such a way, she might lose her heart irredeemably.
"Promise me you will not forget me during your trip," Mr. Wickham said. "Even if Mr. Collins has an agreeable brother who is in search of a wife."
Elizabeth laughed. "There is no danger of that, sir. The man has no brothers."
Wickham smiled. "And hopefully no marriageable friends, either. I know it is selfish, but I will be imagining you seeing no one except your sister and her husband for the duration of your trip."
"Well," Elizabeth said with mock seriousness, "I might have the great honor of meeting the famous Lady Catherine de Bourgh during my time there. Do you think it possible I am worthy to look upon the face of such grace and glory?"
"You are aware I esteem you highly, madam, but no one could possibly be so worthy," said Wickham with a smile. "I suggest you shade your eyes so as not to be blinded by her brilliance."
"It shall be difficult, but I will persevere until I am good enough to exist in her presence. I hope you can live without me for an extended period, as I am certain such goodness will take some time to develop."
He stopped her and looked into her eyes. "I cannot, you know."
"Cannot what?"
"I cannot live without you. Hurry back, my dear Miss Elizabeth, before I die from a broken heart."
And with that, he gave her a low bow, turned, and began the return trip to Meryton, with a very conflicted Elizabeth watching his back.
Mr. Bennet insisted on accompanying Elizabeth on her trip to Kent. She was relieved for the company, as she did not relish the idea of going so far on her own. It surprised her that her father, who loved nothing more than being in his own library, would make such a trip.
"Well, I would like to see for myself that Kitty is settled in her new home," he said. "And who knows how much longer I have with you, Lizzy, before you are married and I cannot speak with you whenever the idea occurs to me."
"Papa, you act as if I am engaged."
"It could happen at any moment. Best not to squander any time,"
Elizabeth knew better than to say anything further, as her father would only use it as ammunition in a verbal game of which he was the master. Instead, she just smiled at him and thought to herself how much she appreciated his company.
Soon enough, bags were packed and the journey began. Elizabeth felt giddy at the prospect of the trip. She imagined how much she would enjoy seeing Kitty again, and how she would have a new area to explore on her walks. She imagined reading in the quiet of the sprawling garden that Kitty had spoken of in her letters. It would be a lovely change.
During the trip, Elizabeth and her father traded banter. There was no one in the world whom each preferred for a conversation partner more than the other. Mr. Bennet delighted in the fact Elizabeth had inherited his quick wit and his fondness for the absurd. Elizabeth was relieved to be able to voice her thoughts out loud without her mother censuring her for them. The trip seemed to fly by, so enjoyable was the company and the conversation.
"So, Lizzy, you have been spending quite a bit of time with Mr. Wickham," her father said, raising an eyebrow at her.
Elizabeth felt her cheeks redden. "We enjoy speaking to one another, Papa. That is all."
"Is it? Or ought I to be expecting a visit from him upon my return to Longbourn?"
"If he is to visit you, I have no idea of the reason," she responded.
"The fact you are being so very vague with me leads me to wonder if there is something you are not telling me. Your mother is convinced he will make you an offer any day, and now we speak of it, I am quite nearly convinced myself. From what I know of him, he will make an acceptable son-in-law. He must be a far cry less foolish than the one I already have."
Elizabeth stared at her lap. What would an acceptable response be to her father's line of questioning? She, herself, did not know exactly what Mr. Wickham's intentions were. He had made her no promises. All she had was her own suspicions about what would happen when she returned from Kent.