The Art of Apology (Happiness in Marriage)

Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

“ M iss Bennet,” Mr Bingley cried, pulling his horse to a stop and quickly dismounting. “How good it is to see you.”

Elizabeth heard nothing else he said. Under other circumstances, she would have been happy to speak to Mr Bingley, even expect that she, her sisters, and the two newly arrived gentlemen would spend an interlude talking together, exchanging a few commonplaces, ascertaining why they were all in Meryton, and introducing Mr Wickham to them. But she had a strong suspicion Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham already knew each other. Mr Darcy all but glared at him, his chin barely lowering enough to call it a nod. It was difficult to tell in the bright daylight, but she believed Mr Wickham’s complexion had paled.

“Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary,” Mr Darcy said, removing his hat. “I hope I find you both well.”

“V-very, thank you, sir,” Mary said, the slight stammer informing Elizabeth that her sister had also noticed the uncomfortable greeting—or rather, lack of—between the men.

Mr Darcy met Elizabeth’s eye. She furrowed her brow slightly, intending for him to read a silent question in her expression, and was almost certain he answered it with a slight shake of his head.

“Denny, we-we should not take up any more of the Miss Bennets’ time,” Mr Wickham called to his friend.

“Oh, but Mr Wickham, we have not had a chance to talk at all!” Kitty said.

“I know!” Lydia exclaimed. “You must come to my aunt’s house tomorrow evening. Mr Denny has been invited, and she will not mind if you are there too, Mr Wickham. Say you will.”

Jane attempted to stop her, but she was not equal to the task, not when both Kitty and Lydia insisted Mrs Philips would be desolate if she learnt she had missed out on hosting the newest member of the regiment before anyone else could. Mr Wickham agreed that if Mrs Philips extended the invitation to him, he would attend her gathering. Elizabeth had the impression he had largely conceded so that he and Mr Denny might depart.

“I shall go directly to my aunt and demand she send Mr Wickham a note at once,” Lydia stated as soon as the two officers were gone. “Come along, Kitty.”

Seeing that Jane was occupied with Mr Bingley and had not heard, Elizabeth said, “No, you will not. We shall remain together, all five of us.” Turning to Mr Darcy, she said, “I apologise for my sister’s behaviour. I do not believe she, or Kitty for that matter, have even acknowledged that you are here.” Kitty turned pink and murmured a greeting. Elizabeth worried her own complexion would take on a noticeable amount of colour, such was her embarrassment, but that was forgotten in a moment because Mr Darcy smiled at her.

Lydia let out a loud, not entirely polite noise, which Elizabeth would have overlooked had her sister not also said, “How can you tell me what I am not to do when you are speaking to Mr Darcy even though Papa said you are not permitted to? I do not see that him saying something kind about us to Mrs Best, who everyone knows is a horrible gossip and is only angry because you made Papa?—”

“That is enough, Lydia,” Elizabeth interjected. “Mr Darcy, again, I apologise for my sister’s poor manners.”

“Shall I take her and Kitty to the shop?” Mary asked. “Will you and Jane be far behind us?”

Elizabeth agreed, first impressing on Kitty and Lydia that they were to obey Mary else the five of them would return to Longbourn without Jane’s promised treat. Lydia stamped away, leaving a red-faced Kitty chasing after her and Mary struggling to keep up with them without running. Elizabeth sighed and briefly closed her eyes, opening them at the sound of Mr Darcy’s voice.

“How are you this morning?” he asked, his gaze on her.

“After that display? Lydia is headstrong, but I hope age—and vigilance by my parents, sisters, and me—will make a difference. Apart from being mortified, I am well.” When she looked into his eyes, she momentarily felt light-headed and kicked herself for being so stupid— both for having prattled on about Lydia and for being so affected by his presence. “And you?”

His eyes flickered in the direction Mr Wickham had taken, and he shrugged. “I am afraid Bingley and I cannot keep you and your sisters company while you are in Meryton or return to Longbourn with you. We have business at Purvis Lodge, but we could not ride by without spending a few minutes with you.”

“While you might be able to withstand the temptation, I am sure Mr Bingley could not.” She tilted her head to gesture towards where he stood with Jane, the couple speaking animatedly.

Mr Darcy chuckled, which somehow made him even more handsome, a feat Elizabeth would have said was impossible. “I agree so far as Bingley is concerned, but as to what you said of me, I shall assume you were teasing.”

She grinned, and for a minute or two, they exchanged what little news they had. She was curious about his connexion to Mr Wickham, but to her surprise, she only remembered their awkwardness once she and Mr Darcy had separated; while they were together, she had been caught up in their conversation, even though they had not touched on any serious subjects.

When saying goodbye to them, Mr Bingley added, “I hope we shall see all of you, and your excellent parents, soon. Very soon.” The Netherfield party was engaged elsewhere the following evening and would not be at Mrs Philips’ soirée .

“I am sure an occasion to meet will arise before long,” Mr Darcy said. “Perhaps the day after tomorrow.”

He was looking at Elizabeth, and she wondered whether he hoped they would see each other during an early morning walk; he might even be hinting that he desired to meet in the only way open to him at present. As she walked farther into Meryton with her sisters, Elizabeth reflected that he might want to talk to her about Mr Wickham, and she knew she would do her best to be on those paths where they had encountered each other before and at about the same time.

Mr Wickham attended Mrs Philips’s evening party, presumably having received the necessary invitation. Elizabeth did not speak to him at first, but she did study him. There was no doubt that he was a good-looking man, perhaps one of the most handsome she had ever seen, and he spoke easily and warmly to everyone he met. In short, he was charming, and given the strange behaviour she had witnessed in both him and Mr Darcy the day before, she was perplexed; indeed, she had spent far too long reflecting on it and was ever more anxious to speak to Mr Darcy.

It was only after she had been at her aunt’s house for about an hour that she spoke to Mr Wickham. She had been talking to friends, but when they left her—and before she could join Charlotte in another corner of the room, as she had intended—he was beside her.

“Miss Elizabeth, I am glad to finally have a moment to get to know you better. I began trying to catch you almost as soon as I arrived, but each time I thought I might, someone has prevented me,” he said, giving her a lopsided smile. “Everyone has been so friendly, even more than I expected from what my fellow officers said.”

“We are always glad to welcome new people, but I suppose that is usual in small towns. We are forever running the risk of becoming tired of each other’s company.”

He laughed more than her small joke deserved. “I have tried to make my way to you several times, but someone always stopped me.”

She wondered at him repeating himself. Did he particularly want to know her? It was flattering, she supposed, given his good looks and happy manners. If she had not seen the way he and Mr Darcy acted towards each other, she might have found him engaging. If there was no Mr Darcy, or if I still clung to my hatred for him, I probably would be rather pleased with Mr Wickham’s company. But now…I wish he were here instead!

There was nothing she could think of to say to Mr Wickham, so she smiled and sipped from her cup, hoping he had not noticed that it was already empty.

“I spoke to your younger sisters—Miss Catherine and Miss Lydia. Such lively girls. Delightful company.” He paused as though waiting for her to respond, so she thanked him. “They told me that your family lives at Longbourn and have for some generations.”

“That is true. The Bennets have occupied the land for well over a century.”

“I look forward to seeing it, and to meeting your father. I regret that he was not able to attend tonight. ”

So was Elizabeth; she was interested to know what her father would think of the young man, given his evident intention to make friends with everyone he met—perhaps especially the young ladies. Mr Bennet had not yet found any of the officers agreeable except for Colonel Forster, and that, she suspected, was because he had lately married. This evening, Mr Bennet, Sir William, and several of the other neighbourhood gentlemen were occupied with a meeting whose purpose she could not recall. She understood it was the same one Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley were attending.

“He will be happy to make your acquaintance,” she said politely. “You must not expect too much from Longbourn. Although I love it dearly and think it is everything it should be, it is hardly a grand estate. It is nothing to Netherfield Park, which is the largest property in the neighbourhood.”

“Ah.” He nodded and took a long drink from his glass of wine. “That is the one Mr Bingley has taken. He has not been here long, I believe?”

Would he mention Mr Darcy too? Mr Wickham must know that he was staying with his friend. “Only since Michaelmas. He is here with his sisters and the husband of the elder, Mr Hurst. Do you know them?”

He responded by shaking his head. “I have met Mr Bingley once or twice. Informally, you understand. I do not believe we have ever said more than two or three words to each other. As for Darcy… Well, you must have seen that he was not pleased to discover I am nearby.”

“I take that to mean you are more familiar with him than Mr Bingley. I had presumed as much,” she admitted, keeping her tone even so as not to betray her wish for him to tell her everything about their connexion, despite it being unconscionably rude and intrusive.

He chuckled. “We are not friends, which an intelligent young lady such as you must also have noticed immediately. I should say we are no longer friends. I understand you and he are not either.” He leant closer and lowered his voice. “Denny, you see. He told me about my old friend insulting you. I wish I could say I am surprised.”

Elizabeth felt a flash of annoyance and was certain it showed in her countenance.

Before she could say anything, he continued. “Oh, not because of you , I assure you. The moment we met, I was struck by your loveliness, if you will excuse my boldness, and any fool would see that you are a delightful young lady, one any man would be pleased to know and dance with as often as possible. Darcy, however, is a fool—an arrogant, impossible to please fool. I am sorry you had the misfortune to encounter such a man, and I pray he has done you no lasting injury.”

“No, not at all. I ought to—” she said, intending to make an excuse to leave his company; she was suddenly uneasy. She hated him referring to the assembly—and hated hearing him insult Mr Darcy even more. If only she could deliver a set-down such as the one Mr Darcy had given Mrs Best! But she was wary of saying too much, of drawing attention and creating gossip, especially when everyone else was finally beginning to speak less of that night . Her feeling of protectiveness for the gentleman was shocking in its strength, and she was determined to question herself about it later.

To her regret and irritation, Mr Wickham interjected and spoke as though he had not heard her. “I have known him all my life, and he has always been a proud, disagreeable fellow. Thus, he was as a boy, and thus he remains. His father liked me, even preferred me. As a child, I wondered why, but now, I see it was because he approved of my character and could not like his son’s. I am a simple man, Miss Elizabeth, with simple desires—good friends, pleasant conversation, and a laugh or two.” He chuckled sadly. “To earn my way in the world respectably. Darcy has always been jealous of me. The end of it was that he robbed me of the inheritance his father wanted me to have, which included a valuable living in Derbyshire. Instead of being a poor soldier with an uncertain future, I should even now be living near where I grew up. I do love Derbyshire, and I would have loved to be a parson, to be settled in that fine county, and be doing some good for the people there. Oh, I am extremely glad to have a place in Colonel Forster’s regiment—excellent man, I could see that at once—but it is not what I had dreamt I would be doing with my life.”

“I am sorry for you, Mr Wickham, but I am glad you are satisfied with your present situation.” Her speech evidently pleased him, and before he could say more, she succeeded in excusing herself, truthfully claiming a need to speak to Lydia and Kitty, who appeared on the point of arguing with each other yet again.

She quickly dealt with their petty disagreement and spent the remainder of the party with them or Mary, having lost interest in idle chitchat. Mr Wickham continued to delight everyone, and she heard more than one person express how glad they were to have met him. Elizabeth kept him in her sights all evening, mostly to ensure he stayed away from Kitty and Lydia, who she suspected would quickly decide they liked him above all other officers simply because he was better looking.

Elizabeth considered talking to Jane about what Mr Wickham had said, but she decided against it. It was possible there was some truth in what he had disclosed, but she wanted to believe better of Mr Darcy. A month ago, she certainly would not have; she would have considered Mr Wickham’s portrayal of him exactly what she expected of the gentleman she had encountered at the assembly. But after witnessing how much effort Mr Darcy was putting into rectifying the errors he had made that night, seeing what an admirable gentleman he was, she could not. Briefly, she wondered how Mr Denny had come to tell his friend about the assembly—he had not been present, after all. She supposed he was aware that the two men knew each other and, having heard the gossip—and plenty of people were still talking of that night —had thought it an amusing story to share.

Elizabeth fervently hoped that people would forget the assembly had ever taken place! If they must, they should think only of meeting Mr Bingley. If he and Jane fell in love, as they seemed set to do, it might become a romantic tale of how they had met and known at once that they were destined to spend their lives as husband and wife. What the neighbourhood needed was another event that they could speak of enthusiastically, recounting details again and again because they were so delicious. She did not know what form this event might take, but in her dreams, it was one in which there was no discord, only endless moments of pleasure and cheer.

At Longbourn, Elizabeth retired immediately, assuring her family that she was well, just excessively tired. In truth, she was still vexed with Mr Denny and Mr Wickham and anxious to see Mr Darcy. Silently, she prayed that they would meet the next morning and that she might convince him to tell her more of the newest member of the militia.