Page 14 of The Best Of Relations

“I daresay you have observed that my youngest sister Lydia is not here tonight.”

“Indeed,” Darcy agreed. Miss Lydia would have been hard to miss, loud, silly and prone to exposing herself as such. “Is she unwell?”

“No,” Elizabeth tilted her head at him. “She is guilty of being a foolish, headstrong girl. As am I, but Lydia was silly enough to voice her opinions aloud to our father.”

“Headstrong I can well believe,” he said dryly, “but I could never think you foolish, Miss Elizabeth. Your wits are too sharp for that.”

“Perhaps, then, it is pride I am guilty of. Indeed, the worst kind of pride, for in my vanity I believed that I had a superior understanding, and I did not want to believe the words of one who had not merely a belief in their own cleverness, but true knowledge.”

“I – have not the pleasure of understanding you,” Darcy said after a few moments.

“I am talking in circles, I suppose, because I do not like to admit I am wrong. Very well, Mr Darcy, I shall cut to the chase. I believed my own judgement of character superior enough that I dared to question – although I was not insolent enough to do so aloud – the veracity of my aunt’s knowledge of the past deeds of our mutual acquaintance, Mr Wickham.”

The black rage that descended over Mr Darcy’s face for a moment then alarmed her, and she took a slight step back, wide-eyed. He calmed quickly with a deep breath, though, and reached to offer her his arm. “Pray, will you take a stroll with me, Miss Elizabeth? The room is warm.”

They strolled along the hallway, unknowingly following in the earlier footsteps of Jane and Mr Bingley. The party was louder now; many of the guests somewhat inebriated and raucous. Darcy kept Elizabeth close to him by means of placing his free hand over hers on his arm and leaning down to speak quietly in her ear.

“Mr Wickham is a blackguard of the first order, Miss Elizabeth. What did Mrs Gardiner tell you?”

She looked up at him, wide-eyed and vulnerable, and whispered “Louise.”

“I see. Well, she was not the first or the last girl he left in such a situation. I have discovered, since inheriting Pemberley, that my father paid for the support of no less than three illegitimate children of Wickham’s in Derbyshire alone. The good Lord only knows how many more may be scattered around the country. I could not believe, knowing of his – proclivities – that my father still left him a living, but I have known for many years that Mr Wickham should never be a clergyman. I paid him the value of the living – agreed between us as three thousand pounds – and told him never to darken my door again.”

“Three thousand pounds!” Elizabeth’s voice was barely a squeak. “But that is a fortune!”

“It is, apparently, but one-tenth of what Wickham feels he deserves.” Darcy lowered his voice further. “Miss Elizabeth, I must ask you to keep what I am about to tell you in the strictest confidence. My cousin your aunt is aware of the facts, but I would prefer you told no one else, not even Miss Bennet.”

“You have my word, Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth promised fervently, thinking that keeping a secret was the least she owed him after hating him so misguidedly.

“The reason I have not exposed Wickham’s character to the neighbourhood, is that he might have it in his power to ruin my sister’s good name. Just three months ago, in August…” He went on to tell Elizabeth all about Ramsgate and Mrs Younge, and concluded; “But I think I shall write a letter to my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam, who is with the Regulars, and ask him to have Wickham’s militia commission investigated. I cannot imagine where he received letters of recommendation for his good character, unless they were forged, as Mrs Younge’s references turned out to be.”

Elizabeth stopped walking and looked up at him, her beautiful dark eyes swimming with tears. “Oh Mr Darcy,” she said softly, “I am so sorry. For everything. For your poor sister, for misjudging you, for thinking ill of you – no wonder you did not want to dance with anyone at the Assembly! If such a thing were on my mind, it would take me two years to want to dance again, I am sure, not two months! How could you want to take pleasure in anything, knowing how sorely her poor heart must be hurting?”

Darcy smiled at her, grateful for her understanding. “She is much recovered. Her new companion, Mrs Annesley, is a wonderful lady and has done a great deal to help Georgiana understand that it was not her fault, that Wickham preyed on her in hopes of gaining pecuniary advantage from me. I must take some share of the blame, also, because I never made her aware of his faults. She knew no ill of him. I have been trying to keep her as my baby sister, trying, as I dare say all fathers and brothers do, not to allow their little girls to grow up, to keep them innocent of the world’s harsher truths.”

Elizabeth smiled at that. “You have learned a valuable lesson, then, I daresay. My father could no doubt save you a great deal of heartache if you would only consult with him over what to expect from teenage girls; he has after all a vast amount of experience on the subject!”

Darcy was struck by the notion, and nodded. “I think you must be correct, Miss Elizabeth – as usual! Thank you for your wise counsel. I am sure your father has learned a great deal about dealing with unruly, impertinent daughters.” His eyes twinkled, and Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open.

“For shame, sir! Their family might call Lydia and Kitty such names, but it is dreadfully rude of you to do so!” she sparked back, and he chuckled.

“Did I speak of Miss Lydia and Miss Catherine?”

She playfully swatted at his arm, and he laughed again, a deep rumble of sound.

“Wickham described your sister as very proud,” Elizabeth said softly, when they had walked in companiable silence for a few moments more. She felt Darcy’s arm tense beneath her hand, but it took him a moment to speak.

“That he dares to speak of her yet…” Darcy said between gritted teeth. “What else did he say of her?”

Elizabeth had been wracking her brain, trying to remember the conversation. “I recall that he said she was affectionate and pleasing as a child, and that he had devoted hours to her amusement.”

“Hah,” Darcy let out a snort. “Not likely! Wickham was always urging my cousins and I to play games that were far too old for poor Georgiana to join in.”

“He described her as handsome and highly accomplished,” Elizabeth went on hesitantly, “But said that she was like you, very proud.”

“Some might think her so,” Darcy said after a moment. “But the truth is that she is very, very shy, and quiet in company that she does not know very well. It strikes me that she is rather like your sister Miss Bennet; reserved with those who are not close to her. I must confess to you that before tonight I had not encouraged Bingley in his pursuit of your sister, because I truly did not think that she returned his affections. I rather thought that your mother was promoting the match.”

Elizabeth was annoyed at his presumption, but she had to admit him to be partially correct. “You are correct in the last part of your surmise, sir, my mother has been most assiduously promoting the match. But Jane does not show her feelings lightly: she fears giving too much of herself and being disappointed. Her heart, though…”