Chapter Text
Elizabeth felt like a blushing schoolgirl. Mr. Wickham was charming and handsome, something lacking from the newer residents of the neighbourhood. And to add a red coat that was sure to improve his standing even more.
She does not one to fawn over a gentleman. To be critical - absolutely. To be kind - she tried. But to be impressed so quickly was unlike her. Perhaps the immediate comparison to Mr. Collins, hovering at her elbow, and Mr. Darcy, his attitude still fresh from Netherfield, made Mr. Wickham appear better than he was. Lizzy hoped it was not just an appearance.
“Look, Jane. It's Mr. Bingley.” Lizzy heard Kitty whisper, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy approaching on horseback. Mr. Bingley dismounted and with a wide grin, approached Jane.
“How very fortunate. Do you know we were just on our way to Longbourn to ask after your health.”
“You are very kind, Sir,” Jane smiled. “I am quite recovered, as you see.”
“Yes. I am very glad to know it.”
They continued to exchange pleasantries, but Lizzy's attention was drawn to Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy. The normally taciturn gentleman was furious, his face flushed, hands clenched on his mount’s reins.
And the source of his anger: Mr. Wickham.
It was standoff, the pair glaring at each other, so Lizzy was surprised when Mr. Darcy addressed her abruptly.
“Miss Elizabeth, may I have a word with you?”
Everyone fell silent, shock permeating the group. Lizzy could not help the blush that fell across her face. She was not fond of being the centre of attention like this.
“Alright.” She strode away from the group without meeting anyone's gaze. She put enough distance between them that they could not be overheard but ensured that they were in full view. Her reputation would not be risked for that man.
Mr. Darcy approached, his horse following obediently behind.
“Well, Sir, you wanted my presence. What is it that you wished to speak of?”
Mr. Darcy looked down at her, he was frustratingly tall. “Miss Elizabeth, I must demand that you cease all interactions with Mr. Wickham.”
Lizzy's mouth dropped open, “Excuse me?”
“Mr. Wickham is not to be trusted. You are never to speak to him again, never to seek out his company. Do I make myself clear?”
How dare he speak to her in that manner? Lizzie was nearly incandescent with rage. Taking a deep breath, she tempered her volume so that the conversation remained private.
“Mr. Darcy, you are not either my father or my brother. Nor are you a husband or a suitor. What right do you have to demand anything of me?” she hissed. His eyes widened in surprise at her vitriol. “Since you arrived here, you have treated us all with contempt, and now you deign to offer your profound wisdom to poor little me, a woman not handsome enough to tempt you,” Lizzy mocked, throwing his words back as him. His face flushed with embarrassment, but she continued. “Well Sir, I did not ask for your advice nor do I require it. Good day, Mr. Darcy.”
Lizzy stormed away without another look at the insufferable man. Her heart was pounding, her face red with anger. She was too heated to be good company at her Aunt Phillips’. “I am returning home,” Lizzy said to Jane, to embarrassed to meet anyone else’s eyes. They may not have heard what was said, but they all knew that she and Mr. Darcy had argued.
Her angel of a sister simply nodded, shushing Kitty and Lydia's curious interruptions. “Mary would be happy to join you, I am sure.”
“It would be my honor to escort you, dear cousin,” Mr. Collins simpered.
His company was the last thing she wanted, especially now that it was clear he had chosen her as his future wife.
Again, Jane was her saviour. “Mr. Collins, I must insist that you join us at our Aunt Phillips’. She would be exceedingly disappointed to miss the opportunity to meet you.”
Lizzy breathed a sigh of relief as the man agreed, falling over himself to compliment her aunt, a woman he had never met.
“Come on, Mary.” Lizzy was happy her sister followed without a word. Mary was no more inclined than she to spend the afternoon playing cards at their aunt’s.
The pair left town without speaking, Lizzy stewing in her own thoughts. Mr. Darcy was even prouder than she had imagined. What right did he have to give her orders? He must have been delusional to think that she would heed him. Since they met, he had been rude and dismissive to everyone, too proud to mingle with the locals. Why would he care who she spent time with? And why would he tarnish Mr. Wickham's reputation? It was clear they knew each other, though why would a gentleman of Mr. Darcy’s standing know one of Mr. Wickham's?
“Elizabeth, are you all right?” Mary said. “You have been scowling and muttering to yourself since we left.”
Lizzy laughed weakly, “Thank you, Mary. I will admit to being rather frustrated at the moment, but it will pass.”
“I believe frustration to be a common feeling for women.” Mary continued on a tangent for the remainder of their walk home, and for once, Lizzy was happy to listen. Even if only to distract her from her own thoughts.
~~~
“How was the rest of your conversation with Mr. Bingley?” Lizzy asked later that night when it was just her and Jane. The candle cast long shadows around their bedroom, a fox screaming outside their window.
“Rather short,” Jane admitted. “Mr. Darcy left immediately after your…discussion. Mr. Bingley followed soon after.”
“I am sorry, Jane.” Disrupting Jane's courtship was the last thing she wanted to do.
“Do not be.” Jane blushed prettily, “Before he left, Mr. Bingley invited me, invited us all, to a ball at Netherfield Park on Tuesday next.”
“Jane, I am so pleased for you.”
“It is not for me, the ball.”
Lizzy grinned, “Are you sure?” Her sister was everything good and kind, and she deserved a great love. Mr. Bingley was not the sort of man that she herself would be interested in, too agreeable for her own biting nature. For Jane he was perfect, though. They were so alike in nature, so prepared to think good of the world.
“Mr. Bingley welcomed everyone in the community. Including the soldiers.”
Lizzy hummed, “That was kind of him. Unlike his friend.” These last three words were muttered under her breath though Jane clearly heard her.
“I do not mean to upset you, Lizzy, but will you tell me what happened with Mr. Darcy?” Jane asked softly.
“It was a misunderstanding.” Mr. Darcy misunderstood the right he had to have a say in her life. She would tell Jane more later. For now, she could not present herself or Mr. Darcy fairly, her emotions too high. “What did you think of Mr. Wickham?” A more pleasant conversation to have to be sure.
Jane hesitated.
“What is it, Jane?”
“He is very charming, very open…”
“And that is…concerning?”
“At Aunt Phillips’, he was very open about his past interactions with Mr. Darcy.” Jane shared his tale of mistreatment, of stolen inheritance, of unbearable pride.
“I am in shock,” Lizzy said. “Mr. Darcy is a villain.” Jane's mouth twisted into a frown. “What is it? Surely, you do believe that these are the actions of a villain.”
“If it is what happened, then yes.”
“You do not believe Mr. Wickham?” Lizzy asked, surprised.
“I do believe him, He seemed truthful in his tale, though he did seem to enjoy the attention and sympathy that was offered him. It is hard to imagine that he would lie about such a thing.”
Lizzy went to interrupt, but Jane continued.
“However, I cannot believe that Mr. Darcy would behave in such a manner. He may be proud, but he is dutiful. He would not easily reject his father's wishes, nor could he easily do so if it was legally binding. Besides can he be so very bad if Mr. Bingley is his best friend? It seems like there may have been a misunderstanding, for surely neither man would do this.”
Something about Jane's words gave her pause. Her instinct was to think the worst of Mr. Darcy. He had given her little reason to think well of him. But Jane was right. He was rude and unbearably proud. However, he had not shown a tendency towards vindictiveness until this tale.
She would have to sort through her thoughts before determining her next steps.