Previously: Mr. Darcy said "Let us move on to Rosings, I thought we got on rather well then."
Elizabeth wrinkled her forehead. "I hesitate to say this, but there are two matters that arose in … in Hertfordshire I guess you can say, that should be dealt with before we move on to Rosings, in Kent."
At Mr. Darcy's somewhat impatient gesture Elizabeth continued. "Of these two matters, I want you to know that my thoughts, my feelings, with respect to the first have substantially changed since our almost wedding and I would beg that you hear me out and forgive my stupidity back then." Elizabeth stopped and implored him with her eyes to give her a chance.
Mr. Darcy frowned, he thought he knew where this was heading, and he did not like it, but it had to be dealt with. "Please continue" he said.
"It concerns Mr. Wickham" said Elizabeth.
Mr. Darcy nodded. It always does, doesn't it.
Elizabeth continued. "That day in Meryton when I first met him, I saw your angry reaction when you saw him, and his fearful one when he saw you. After you rode off, Mr. Wickham spoke to us for some time, and I will confess I found he had a fine countenance, a good figure, and a very pleasing address. That evening my Aunt Phillips had a card party which my sisters and I attended. Mr. Wickham attended as well. Somehow, he discerned my dislike of you and so picked me out to tell his tale of woe: how his father was your father's steward; how he grew up with you at Pemberley; how your father loved him more than you; how your father paid for his education through Cambridge; how you were jealous of him; how your father left him a valuable living; and how, after your father died, you denied him that living."
"Did he also tell you that he resigned all claim to the living in return for three thousand pounds? And that three years later, on the decease of the incumbent of that living, after he had already burned through the three thousand pounds, gambling, wenching, and the like, he applied to me for a presentation of the living? You will hardly blame me for refusing to comply with this entreaty, or resisting every repetition to it, for there have been several. If we are ever in town at the same time, I would be happy to show you the release he signed." In saying this, Mr. Darcy tried to keep his rising choler down, he must remember that Mr. Wickham was at fault, not Elizabeth; Wickham was a practiced deceiver, and Elizabeth was a mere woman.
Unfortunately, to a certain extent, Mr. Darcy failed, and he spit out "You believed him whole heartedly, and thought I was a true villain. That is why, when we danced at Bingley's ball, you defended him. You had a tendre for him, you were one of his conquests." Like my sister, Georgiana; like your sister, Lydia, he thought. Was there not one woman in the world who was not susceptible to the false and spurious blandishments of that rake and those of his ilk? By the time he finished talking Mr. Darcy had turned away from Elizabeth and was scowling at the moon; the moon probably having been Wickham's accessory more than once.
Elizabeth was desperate and so she hurried her response. "No, no, yes, no … oh, let me explain." She took a deep breath. "No, Mr. Wickham did not tell me he had been compensated for the living; I don't blame you for refusing him later; you don't have to show me the release, I believe you. I admit my vanity; I enjoyed his flattery and his attentions but I never had a tendre for him. I was not one of his conquests – the greatest liberty he took, I did not ask for, or grant it, was kissing my hand, my gloved hand." Seeing that Mr. Darcy had turned back to her and was listening to her Elizabeth continued on. "After I jilted you, after everyone had left the church, Mr. Wickham showed his true colours to me."
Elizabeth paused, so long that Mr. Darcy was compelled to ask "How so?"
"He berated me for jilting you. He planned on becoming my cicisbeo and living off my pin money."
"And would you have retained his services?"
Elizabeth's eyes flashed and she said "I'd never betray my marital vows."
"But how would you fulfil your unbounded need for flattery if you were married to me?"
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at Mr. Darcy. "You are teasing me, sir."
Mr. Darcy was. Interjecting a tease was a technique practiced and perfected by his cousin, Fitzwilliam, to defuse an argument before it came to blows. He had never thought he would take advantage of it, but if they kept discussing Wickham, he was going to get violent, and since Elizabeth was sacrosanct, he would have to take it out on some hapless tree, at the cost of some broken and bruised knuckles. "Enough of Mr. Wickham, what is the second matter you say arose in Hertfordshire?"
"By his behaviour Mr. Bingley raised expectations with respect to my sister, Jane. The morning after the Netherfield ball Jane received a letter from Caroline Bingley indicating they had left Netherfield for town and were unlikely to return. She also strongly hinted that Mr. Bingley and your sister would be wed at some point" said Elizabeth.
"What? Why the …"
Elizabeth interrupted Mr. Darcy, if he started ranting about Caroline Bingley, they'd be all night. "That was the clear indication. If we are ever in Longbourn at the same time, I would be happy to show you the letter if Jane has not yet burnt it." Elizabeth smiled at Mr. Darcy as she showed that she could tease to defuse tension as well. "That letter, and Mr. Bingley's desertion, broke Jane's heart, I suspected his sisters and you …"
"Conspired to keep Bingley and your sister apart" Mr. Darcy finished her sentence. "I confess that I did; as at the time I thought she was indifferent to him and would only marry him to please your mother. By the date of our wedding, I had realized I was wrong and that is why I asked your sister if she would welcome Bingley back. When I got back to Pemberley I wrote to Bingley, confessing all, begging his forgiveness, and passing on to him what your sister had promised. I will leave it to your sister to let you know what became of it all – when she responds to the letter I assume you will be sending to her. Now, can we move on to Rosings? I had assumed that there we were getting on rather well but my cousin, Fitzwilliam, tells me quite the opposite. Tell me, Miss Elizabeth, what did you think of me there?"