Hurricane at Netherfield Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Elizabeth entered her aunt’s parlour with her sisters for the evening of cards. After exchanging niceties, she found Mrs Long’s niece at her elbow. “I can’t believe your sister’s luck.”

Elizabeth just smiled at the girl. “We are all so very happy for Jane on her engagement.”

“But not just that. To get engaged to one so handsome and rich, and on the same day to become an heiress.”

Elizabeth was stunned at how anyone other than her, her uncle and her father knew of that possibility. Before she could correct the girl, the officers arrived and every females’ attention was directed to the officers, and in particular, all attention went to Mr Wickham. The officers in general were a very creditable, gentlemen like set, but Mr Wickham was as far beyond them in person, countenance, air and walk, as the officers were superior to the broad-faced stuffy uncle Philips, breathing port wine, that followed them into the room.

Every woman’s eye was turned to Mr Wickham, and it was Elizabeth who captured his attention. He came to sit by her. “I must admit to being surprised to see you here tonight, but I’m very glad you did come. It was being said there was a death in your family.”

Elizabeth directed her complete attention to him. “May I ask how you came by that information?”

“I believe it was Sanderson. He said that Mrs Goulding was at the church with questions on the wedding and overheard a conversation with your uncle’s clerk and the pastor regarding future Longbourn heirs.” That answered how Mrs Long’s niece had come by the information.

“The truth is a constable came to Longbourne in the attempt to identify a body, which may or may not be our cousin. We were unable to confirm it. But may I ask you to say no more, and if you could quiet your fellow officers from speculation, it would be greatly appreciated. We do not want to say anything, as our cousin at this moment could be at home at his parsonage at Hunsford and would be very put out to know we were mourning his death.”

“And when do you expect to know?” asked Mr Wickham.

“Probably in a few days.”

“And is that when you will go into mourning?”

“My father might acknowledge it. But my sisters and I have never met the man and only knew of his existence a few days earlier. It would not seem appropriate to mourn someone to whom we had no connection with.”

Their conversation turned to more mundane topics like the weather, and Elizabeth wondered at how something so mundane could seem so interesting purely by the skill of the speaker.

The card tables were set out, and he and Elizabeth went to play lottery tickets. Lydia attempted to monopolize his attention for herself, except she became caught up in the game. This left Mr Wickham at leisure to talk with Elizabeth.

“I heard your sister is recently engaged?”

“Yes, to Mr Bingley, who is currently renting Netherfield. He is staying there with his family and friend.”

“How far is Netherfield to Meryton?” asked he.

“About two miles.”

“How long has Mr Darcy been staying there?”

“About a month. I understand he is a man of very large property in Derbyshire.”

“Yes,” replied Wickham; -“his estate there is a noble one. A clear ten thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that head than myself – for I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from infancy.”

Elizabeth could not but look surprised.

“You may well be surprised, Miss Bennet, at such an assertion, after seeing, as you probably might, the very cold manner of our meeting yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr Darcy?”

Elizabeth knew that to get the information she sought, she would need to claim less of a friendship than what she had with Mr Darcy. He needed to believe that she was on his side. “I was stuck at Netherfield for a period due to the storm. But I spent most of the days with Mr Bingley’s sisters. He is not an easy person to get to know.” True. She didn't think she had said anything untrue so far. “He had not made many friends here and with his stand-offish ways, the general populace here considers him very proud and quite disagreeable.” Also a true statement, she thought to herself. She had once thought the same. “Of course, he has not helped his cause by refusing to dance with any of the local ladies.”

“I have no right to give my opinion, “ said Wickham, “as to his being agreeable or otherwise. I am not qualified to form one. I have known him too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for me to be impartial. But I believe your opinion of him would in general astonish – and perhaps you would not express it quite so strongly anywhere else. Here you are in your own family.”

“I say no more here than what is the general opinion of the populace, excepting Netherfield. He is not well liked In Hertfordshire. Everybody has been disgusted by his pride.” She felt guilt as she said this. She knew it was the general opinion, but one she no longer shared. “You will not hear him spoken of favourably.”

“I cannot pretend to be sorry,“ said Wickham, after a short interruption, “that he or that any man should not be estimated beyond their deserts; but with him I believe it does not often happen. The world is blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his high and imposing manners, and sees him only as he chooses to be seen.”

Elizabeth said nothing to this and pretended to be distracted by the game.

“I wonder,“ said he, at the next opportunity of speaking, “whether he is likely to be in this country much longer?”

“I do not know at all; but with the engagement of his friend and the dismal state of the roads, I imagine he will stay awhile longer. I hope your plans in favour of the militia will not be affected by his being in the neighbourhood.”

“Oh! No- it is not for me to be driven away by Mr Darcy. If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go. We are not on friendly terms, and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for avoiding him but what I might proclaim to the world; a sense of very great ill-usage, and most painful regrets at his being what he is. His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had; and I can never be in his company with this Mr Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a thousand tender reflections. His behaviour to myself had been scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him anything and everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the memory of his father. “

Elizabeth listened with interest to understand how the two men had fallen out; but the delicacy of the subject prevented further inquiry. She observed him closely; he looked to be speaking the truth.

Mr Wickham began to speak on more general topics, Meryton, the neighbourhood, the society, appearing highly pleased with all that he had yet seen, and speaking of the latter especially, with gentle but very intelligible gallantry. “It was the prospect of constant society, and good society,” he added, “which was my chief inducement to enter Hertfordshire. I knew it to be a most respectable, agreeable corps and my friend Denny tempted me further by his account of their present quarters, and the very great attentions and excellent acquaintance Meryton has procured them. Society, I own, is necessary to me. I have been a disappointed man, and my spirits will not bear solitude. I must have employment and society. A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have now made it eligible. The church ought to have been my profession-I was brought up for the church, and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we were speaking of just now.“

“Indeed!”

“Yes- the late Mr Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given elsewhere.”

"Good heavens!” cried Elizabeth; “but how could that be? How could his will be disregarded? Why did you not seek legal redress?”

“There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from the law. A man of honour could not have doubts on the meaning, but Mr Darcy choose to doubt it – or to treat it as only a conditional recommendation, and that I had forfeited all claim to it by extravagance, imprudence, in short anything or nothing. Certain it is that the living became vacant two years ago, exactly as I was of an age to hold it, and that it was given to another man; and no less certain is it, that I cannot advise myself of having done anything really to deserve to lose it. I have a warm unguarded temper, and I may have perhaps have sometimes spoken my opinion of him, and to him, too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very different sorts of men and that he hates me.”

Elizabeth listened with interest, but she did take special note in his statement that Mr Darcy had believed the claim to have been forfeited, and hence Mr Wickham had no ability for legal redress. She would have to ask Mr Darcy the next time she saw him. She was certain that Mr Wickham had only given half of a story and the half that looked beneficial to himself. She knew Mr Darcy to be an honourable man, so he would not have disregarded his father's will. She considered what response to give that sounded sympathetic enough to keep him talking to reveal more. “This is quite shocking! He deserves to be publicly disgraced.”

“Some time or other he will be, but it shall not be by me. Till I can forget his father, I can never set out to expose him.”

Elizabeth thought how prettily he expressed his hypocrisy. “But what,” said she after a pause, “can have been his motive? What can have induced him to behave so cruelly?”

“A thorough, determined dislike of me -a dislike which I cannot but attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had the late Mr Darcy liked me less, his son might have borne with me better; but his father's uncommon attachment to me, irritated him I believe from early in life. He had not a temper to bear the sort of competition in which we stood- the sort of preference that was often given to me.”

“I had not thought Mr Darcy so very bad as this.” She considered her words carefully to still be truthful. The longer she spoke with Mr Wickham, the more she felt like she was somehow betraying Mr Darcy. She tried to show the right amount of belief in Mr Wickham statement with curious questions. “I have seen him be dismissive of others, but I did not suspect him of descending to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity as this!”

Elizabeth was again deep in thought. Mr Wickham spoke as though he believed himself to have been wronged. She thought on how to probe further. “To treat in such a manner, the godson, the friend, the favourite of his father! And one, too, who had probably been his own companion from childhood, connected together, as I think you said, in the closest manner!”

“We were born in the same parish, within the same park, the greatest part of our youth was spent together; inmates of the same house sharing the same amusements, objects of the same parental care. My father began his life in the same profession which your uncle Mr Philips, appears to do so much credit to- but he gave everything up to be of use to the late Mr Darcy, and devoted all his time to the care of the Pemberley property. He was most highly esteemed by the late Mr Darcy, a most intimate, confidential friend. Mr Darcy often acknowledged himself to be under the greatest obligation to my father's active superintendence, and when immediately before my father's death, Mr Darcy gave him a voluntary promise of providing for me, I am convinced that he felt it to be as much a debt of gratitude to him, as of affection to myself.”

“How strange!” cried Elizabeth. Inwards, she thought ‘that a grown man does not take responsibility for himself’. To Mr Wickham she said “how abominable! I wonder that the pride of Mr Darcy had not made him just to you! If from no better motive, that he should be too proud to be dishonest, for dishonesty I must call it.” She looked hard at Mr Wickham, suspecting the dishonesty existed elsewhere, but he looked like all wounded innocence.

“It is wonderful,“ replied Mr Wickham, “for almost all his actions may be traced to pride and pride has often been his best friend. It has connected him nearer with virtue than any other feeling. But we are none of us consistent; and in his behaviour to me, there were stronger impulses even than pride.”

“Can such abominable pride as his, have ever done him good?”

“Yes. It has often led him to be liberal and generous, to give his money freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants and relieve the poor. Family pride, and filial pride, for he is very proud of what his father was, have done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to degenerate from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the Pemberley house, is a powerful motive. He has also brotherly pride, which with some brotherly affection, makes him a very kind and careful guardian of his sister; and you will hear him generally cried up as the most attentive and best of brothers.”

Elizabeth gave credit to his words. He clearly knew Mr Darcy well: Elizabeth knew Mr Darcy was proud, but as she knew him better, she knew that wasn't what drove him. A genuine desire to do right by people was the source, and he was proud of doing that. “What sort of girl is Miss Darcy?”

He shook his head. “I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a Darcy. But she is to much like her brother, very, very proud. As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond of me; and I devoted hours and hours to her amusement. But she is nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl, about fifteen or sixteen, and I understand highly accomplished. Since her father's death, her home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and superintends her education.”

Elizabeth wondered about his knowledge. Had he not said his last contact with Mr Darcy was some years back- why would he then know of the situation of the sister?

They tried many different subjects, but in the end returned to the first one.

“I am astonished by his intimacy with Mr Bingley! How can Mr Bingley, who seems good humour himself, and is, I really believe, truly amiable, be in friendship with such a man? How can they suit each other? Do you know Mr Bingley?”

“Not at all. Is he the man your sister is engaged to?”

“Yes, they are perfectly suited to one another. He is a sweet- tempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot know what Mr Darcy is.”

“Probably not, but Mr Darcy can please where he chooses. He does not want abilities. He can be a conversible companion if he thinks it worth his while. Among those who are at all his equals in consequence, he is a very different man from what he is to the less prosperous. His pride never deserts him, but with the rich, he is liberal minded, just, sincere, rational, honourable, and perhaps agreeable, allowing for something for fortune and figure.”

They tried several other topics whilst pretending interest in the game. Elizabeth only paid the slightest attention as she thought to what Mr Wickham had previously said. That he knew Mr Darcy well was clear, but his view was clearly jaded. Mr Darcy might appear to only pay consequence to those who he thinks are of worth, so that would mean that Mr Wickham had lost Mr Darcy’s esteem. She knew that Mr Darcy took a long time to build trust and to then open up to people once that trust was built.

Mr Wickham started up. “Did I hear you say that your cousin is the parson of Hunsford? Is his patroness Lady Catherine de Bourg?”

“Why yes, do you know of her?”

“You know of course that Lady Catherine de Bourg and Lady Anne Darcy were sisters; consequently, she is the aunt to the present Mr Darcy.”

“No, I did not. I knew nothing at all of Lady Catherine’s connections. As of a couple of days ago, I had never heard of her existence before.”

“Her daughter, Miss de Bourg, will have a very large fortune, and it is believed that she and her cousin will unite the two estates.”

Everything seemed to stop around Elizabeth and she had a sick feeling in her stomach. Using every ounce of control, she tried to look completely unaffected. She unfolded her arms and made a show of looking at her lottery tickets whilst she regained her control. She scraped for something to ask that would require him to talk. “And what sort of woman is she?”

“Strong willed....” Elizabeth didn't really listen as she thought of some way to move the conversation to some other topic that did not involve Mr Darcy. When he stopped speaking, she was silent for a while before asking him about the damage he'd seen between Meryton and London, and she was glad to force herself to think of other things.

Supper was called not long after, and it was with the greatest relief on Elizabeth’s part that Mr Wickham left her to pay his attention to the other ladies. Lydia and Kitty both claimed his attention. Elizabeth glanced at Jane, who was surrounded by ladies who wanted to do nothing other than talk about her wedding. Elizabeth did not think she could stomach wedding talk, and she knew Jane would pick up on the fact that something was wrong and would wish to discuss it, which Elizabeth did not want to do here. She looked around and found an older married major and decided to seat herself next to him at supper, as she knew he would talk her ear off and she would need to do nothing other than nod at the appropriate time.

As the major spoke, all she could think of was Mr Wickham’s words ‘it’s expected they would unite the estates’. Was it true or a rumour? Mr Wickham had implied he hadn't had much contact with Mr Darcy recently – how could he know? Mr Darcy wasn't married yet. These thoughts swirled around and she was caught between hope and despair. She toyed with the food on her plate. The food was all tasteless and her stomach rebelled at the thought of eating it. She put enough to her mouth to make a show of eating but left half her plate uneaten.

After supper, she stood in the group with Lydia as she knew she would have no need to talk with Lydia commanding all attention to herself.

It was with the greatest relief that the night ended, and she was the first to enter the carriage. She took a corner and stared unseeing out the window as her sisters bundled in after her. Jane sat across from her and cast her concerned looks, whilst Lydia and Kitty twittered away about how each officer looked and what they had said. Elizabeth could not meet her sister’s eyes and a single tear rolled down her cheek. How ironic that the moment she realised she loved Mr Darcy was when all hope was lost.