Page 32 of Undone

"Denny made a point of telling me a great deal of what transpired at the event. I heard it was a wonderful one."

"Yes, it was." Elizabeth nodded. "It always is, to be honest, particularly when the newcomers prove agreeable."

"Ah, agreeability." He scratched his brow, as if trying to recollect something. "Denny, did not you mention there was one of the newcomers at the assembly who was decidedly unagreeable?"

Denny, who had been talking with Kitty and Lydia, glanced back over his shoulder. "Yes. Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire. He danced with no one, kept himself aloof all evening, and was even said to have slighted Miss Elizabeth."

"Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire?" Mr. Collins turned so abruptly that he nearly trod upon Mary's gown. "Forgive my interrupting, but can you possibly mean Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, in Derbyshire?"

"I believe so," Mary replied. "He is staying at Netherfield with Mr. Bingley."

"He is actually here, in Hertfordshire?"

When Mary nodded again, Mr. Collins clasped his hands together in unconcealed delight.

"What extraordinary good fortune! He is the nephew of my most distinguished patroness. Had I imagined such a circumstance possible, I should have sought an introduction immediately."

He immediately began recounting every occasion on which Lady Catherine had condescended to mention her nephew in his hearing, treating each recollection as though it were of the greatest consequence. Before long he had determined to write toRosings without delay, persuaded that her ladyship would wish to hear of Mr. Darcy's arrival in Hertfordshire, and expressing the warmest hope that he might soon be honoured with an introduction.

His enthusiasm met with little encouragement. Lydia and Kitty listened only long enough to exchange impatient glances before returning their attention to the officers. Even Mary, who bore with Mr. Collins's speeches more patiently than anyone, offered little beyond an occasional nod.

Elizabeth alone felt any inclination to answer him, though for reasons entirely different from his own. Mr. Denny's accusation against Darcy was suffered to pass without contradiction, and Mr. Collins's admiration rested upon a consequence no one else present appeared inclined to value. More than once, she longed to speak in Darcy's defence, yet prudence held her silent. The understanding they shared belonged to Oakham Mount alone, and she could not betray his confidence merely to satisfy her own sense of justice. She had never before found silence so difficult to maintain.

When Mr. Collins at last exhausted the subject, Mr. Wickham had grown unusually quiet. At the mention of Darcy, sympathy touched his features, though Elizabeth fancied she glimpsed something else before it disappeared.

"Darcy," Wickham repeated slowly at length. "Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, of Pemberley."

"Are you acquainted with him?" Elizabeth kept her voice light, though something in his manner had sharpened her attention considerably. "You speak as though you recognise the name."

"We have known one another the whole of our lives, Miss Bennet. Our fathers were closely connected. I confess I had no notion he was in this part of the country at all." He said it plainly enough, though a shadow passed over his features that had not been there a moment before, and Elizabeth, watching him,found herself curious what precisely had put it there. "I am sorry to hear he slighted you. It is, I am afraid, entirely consistent with what I know of him."

"You speak as though you have some particular history with the gentleman, sir." Elizabeth said it carefully, unwilling to appear as though she pressed for confidences he had not yet offered, though she found she wished for them regardless.

"I have a very particular history with him, Miss Bennet, though it is not one I generally care to trouble new acquaintances with, upon a first meeting and along a public road besides." Wickham's smile returned, though it carried less ease than it had a few minutes before. "I will only say that Mr. Darcy's manner toward those he considers beneath his notice is a subject I understand rather better than most, and that I am sorry, though not at all surprised, to hear he extended you the same courtesy."

Elizabeth did not answer at once. Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Oakham Mount and to every quiet confidence Mr. Darcy had entrusted to her there. She had seen the burdens he carried and the care with which he spoke of them.

Yet Mr. Wickham's account did not sit easily beside what she knew. His sympathy appeared sincere, his manner free from bitterness, and still she could not reconcile his words with the gentleman she had come to know.

What history, she wondered, could exist between two men whose fathers had been so closely connected? Whatever had passed between them, it had left a wound that time had plainly failed to heal.

The sound of approaching horses reached them, and Elizabeth glanced towards the lane without particular expectation. The sight of the approaching riders sent an involuntary start through her.

It was Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley.

Before she had recovered from her surprise, Darcy's eyes had found Mr. Wickham. His whole frame seemed to stiffen. Though he did not check his horse, his gaze remained fixed upon Wickham as he rode past, his expression hardening into one she had not seen since the assembly. Only for the briefest instant did his eyes pass over the rest of the party, touching upon Elizabeth before returning, cold and unwavering, to Wickham.

Mr. Bingley, riding a little behind him, drew rein with his usual easy good humour. Touching his hat to the ladies, he smiled.

"Miss Bennet. Miss Elizabeth. We have just come from Longbourn, though I understand we have missed you entirely."

He acknowledged the remainder of the party with equal civility, seeming to notice nothing remarkable in the meeting.

"We shall not detain you. Good day to you all."

With another courteous inclination of his head, he turned his horse and rode after his friend, who had already disappeared around the bend in the lane.

Wickham watched them go before turning to Elizabeth.