Chapter 25
Oh, he couldn't believe his luck, landing in a village where Darcy was already hated. He need not tell abstract tales of woe at the hands of a rich man, here the villain in his story was known. The people would be ripe with sympathy for him, and to think, most of it was done by a silly little shrew who had refused an introduction to him. Her sister was an easy target but his eyes were focused on a bigger prize. He had seen it himself, following after the Bennet sisters for no particular reason, other than they appealed to him, each in their own ways. Lydia would be easy enough, he just needed to discern a few things she enjoyed other than red coats. That would make it the work of a moment to strike up a conversation with her and pretend they held similar interests.
Then he saw it, Darcy engaging in a conversation as any normal gentleman does with a woman. Fascinating. Is that why she refused an introduction to him? But no, Darcy was above sharing family secrets with any unnecessary audience. Could Darcy even know he was here? Asking around a bit, assuming Darcy had offended everyone, as usual, he had heard something really rather extraordinary.
That proud girl, who had refused to be known to him, the one Lydia called Lizzy, was in fact Elizabeth, and she had charged Darcy with being a libertine and a reprobate. Darcy of all people, that insufferable prude, who never properly indulged in the liberties entitled to a man of his station, aside from being an arrogant prig that is. This was too good. He could tell by the way Darcy was conversing with her that he admired her. He was never that comfortable in any woman's company if they were not related.
The last time Darcy admired a woman, that Wickham knew of anyway, he had ruined her. They were just adolescents, and she was the daughter of a local merchant. Darcy knew, even at that age, it was unsuitable, but he couldn't help admiring her, even from a distance. Wickam had applauded himself for showing Darcy that no matter the advantages he held over him, he would never be desired or wanted the way that Wickham was.
Money could only buy so much, the important things, in Wickham's mind, but at least he could have this, he could always trump Darcy in what could not be bought. It was kept quiet of course, never making to old Mr. Darcy's ears, as the family had the reputation of other girls to protect, but Darcy knew, she had asked him why Wickham had not been to see her father. Oh, the look on his face when he returned from the village, it was like someone told him his mother never loved him.
Wickham formed a resolve, rather unlike his unusual wont, which was to pursue the easiest course and was now determined to procure an invite to the card party. If Darcy was in attendance he would ask after Miss Darcy with a meaningful look. Darcy would back down. Darcy owed Wickham for that in his own mind, Darcy was born with everything, need he deny a man he grew up with a handsome dowry? It was no surprise of course, he knew that Darcy would see the connection as too far below him. A servant's son could never be good enough to be a brother to Mr. Darcy of Pemberley.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet, that proud petticoat that had so easily dismissed him, was his aim. Whether he could have her or not, he would ensure Darcy would not have her good opinion.
As soon as the Bennet sisters had left, he entreated his fellow officers to call on Mrs. Phillips and provide an introduction. He wasn't just there to secure an invitation, he understood what his fellow officers did not, and perhaps what they did not care to understand, as most were of a more decent nature, it was a lot easier to ruin a young woman when you had the trust of her protectors. Old kooks were in no way impervious to flattery, often they were even more susceptible to it, being so long since they heard it. So Wickham flattered and cajoled, looking for insight into his real aim, Elizabeth.