Page 33 of Undone

"Who was that gentleman?"

"Mr. Bingley," she replied. "Mr. Darcy's particular friend. He has taken Netherfield, which is not far from here."

"Mr. Bingley appears a very agreeable gentleman."

"He is."

"And a frequent visitor at Longbourn?"

"Yes. My eldest sister has seen a great deal of him since his arrival."

"Mr. Darcy accompanies him often?"

"No." She shook her head. "To my knowledge, he has never before called upon my father. I imagine Mr. Bingley persuaded him to accompany him today."

It was the only explanation that made sense. She could not believe Mr. Darcy would have sought her out at Longbournmerely because she had failed to appear at Oakham Mount these past three days. It was far more likely that Mr. Bingley had prevailed upon him to pay the visit, exactly as she had said.

Yet the thought did little to ease her disappointment. One glance, one smile of recognition, would have been enough.

"Ha." Wickham's laugh was short, and not entirely without an edge to it. "That is exactly like the man I know."

By this time they had nearly reached the place where the party must separate. Lydia, as eager as ever to prolong so agreeable an acquaintance, announced that Mrs. Phillips was to have a small tea party the following afternoon. As her aunt's house stood but a short distance from the militia quarters, the officers were frequent visitors there already.

"You must come, Mr. Denny," Lydia said. "And Mr. Wickham too, if you will."

"We shall be very happy to attend," Denny replied.

The party exchanged their farewells. Mr. Wickham bowed over Elizabeth's hand with the same easy grace that had distinguished him from the first, before he and Denny turned back towards Meryton, while the Bennets and Mr. Collins continued on their way to Longbourn.

Elizabeth was unusually quiet as they walked the remaining distance home.

The explanation she had given Mr. Wickham had seemed sensible enough at the time. Yet, the more she considered it, the less certain she became. Mr. Darcy's visit to Longbourn had been unexpected, and for reasons she could not explain, it lingered in her thoughts.

Mr. Wickham lingered there too. His manner had been too open, his temper too mild, to suggest a man eager to traduce another. Whatever had passed between him and Mr. Darcy had plainly left its mark, yet he had spoken with more regret thanresentment. Elizabeth found herself wondering what history could have altered so easy a disposition.

Tomorrow was Sunday. Oakham Mount must wait until Monday. After church, however, there would be Mrs. Phillips's tea party. If Mr. Wickham accepted Lydia's invitation, perhaps she would at last discover what had passed between him and Mr. Darcy.

Fourteen

Longbourn

9th November, 1811

Darcy

He scarcely remembered the first quarter mile of the ride back. His hands had tightened upon the reins far more than his horse's gentle pace required, while his thoughts returned, again and again, to the sight of George Wickham walking beside Elizabeth Bennet with the same easy confidence Darcy had watched him assume before a hundred strangers over the years.

The single glance he had permitted himself before riding on had been enough to tell him she was entirely at ease in his company, and the knowledge refused to leave him.

How long had they known one another? She had spoken freely of her family, of Miss Lucas and the other friends of her acquaintance, even of a Mr. Martin who had more than once sought to distinguish himself in her favour. Never, in all those conversations, had she spoken George Wickham's name.

Perhaps they had met only today. It was the most reasonable explanation. Wickham possessed a singular talent for making himself agreeable within minutes of an introduction. Darcy had seen it too often to mistake it.

Yet another possibility lingered, unwelcome and persistent. If they had not met today, why had she never spoken his name?

Yet the thought would not settle.

"Darcy." Bingley drew alongside him at last, having fallen behind some way in the exchange of pleasantries Darcy had beentoo occupied to properly attend. "You rode past them as though the devil himself stood amongst the party. Considering we had just left Longbourn, I confess I cannot make sense of it."