Pride and Proposals

Elizabeth could be a “student of human folly,” as her father would say, or enjoy the occasional witty conversation, but she wearied of the city. She was a perpetual outsider. At least in Hertfordshire, she was at home.

She missed Jane and worried about her father’s health. Jane’s baby girl, Anna, had been born during the summer, and Elizabeth had enjoyed taking care of her. She longed to see her little niece again. Jane, Charles, and the baby made such a delightful family that Elizabeth had to restrain feelings of envy. She would not begrudge her sister one ounce of happiness; however, she could not help but muse how life would have been different if Richard had lived.

Yes, she resolved, she would give London another week, and then she would return home.

Her thoughts and her steps were interrupted by the sound of someone calling her name—her Christian name. Surprised, she turned and beheld Wickham striding up the path toward her.

He was wearing a fine suit and carried a walking stick, looking every inch the gentlemen he could never be—either by manner or station. His face held an amiable smile. Elizabeth was forced to admire his ability to smile, dissemble, and pretend, no matter what his offenses. In this way, he was the opposite of Darcy, who often scowled even when he was pleased.

“Sister! We are well met!” She believed neither his smile nor the coincidence of their meeting.

Elizabeth did not trouble herself to produce a smile for her erstwhile brother. In fact, she would have preferred dinner with Mr. Collins and Miss Bingley over a short conversation with Wickham.

“Mr. Wickham.” Her voice held little warmth.

“Come, we are brother a

nd sister! You may, of course, call me George.” His smile was very ingratiating and inviting.

“You may call me Miss Bennet,” she replied.

Wickham’s face fell for a moment, but then he pretended not to hear here. “Well, this is a coincidence! I have scarcely been in London one day, and already I encounter you!”

“Indeed, quite a coincidence,” Elizabeth murmured, certain she could guess the purpose behind this “accidental” meeting.

There was a pause as Elizabeth watched the sun glittering over the Serpentine. Wickham seemed to expect her to carry on the conversation, but she felt no obligation. While Lydia was alive, Elizabeth had felt a duty to maintain civil relations with her new brother, but with her sister’s death, the obligation had ceased. His last visit to Longbourn had caused difficulties for every member of the Bennet family. She saw no reason to make the conversation easy for him.

“I heard that Georgiana’s coming out ball was a great success,” Wickham said finally.

“Yes, Miss Darcy did very well,” Elizabeth replied.

A slight narrowing of his eyes indicated that Wickham noticed her tacit rebuke.

“I am very happy for her.” He smiled like a large predatory animal. “I wish I could see her again. We were such good friends as children.” His eyes found hers as if an idea had just occurred to him. “Sister! You see Georgiana frequently; could you arrange a time and place for me to meet her?”

Elizabeth’s jaw fell open at the sheer audacity of the request. Of course, he had no reason to believe she knew the story of Ramsgate, but—

“Absolutely not!” Elizabeth cried once she had recovered her voice.

She turned, not knowing where she would go as long as her path took her away from Wickham. But before she had taken a step, she felt his hand on her shoulder, holding her in place. She reached up and forcibly removed it from her shoulder. Before she could leave, Wickham spoke: “If you wish me to avoid Georgiana, you will listen to what I have to say.”

Elizabeth’s shoulders slumped. Keeping Wickham away from Georgiana was of the utmost importance. She turned and regarded him with a stony face.

Wickham raised an eyebrow, but his smile had no mirth in it. “Your late fiancé and I had an arrangement …”

“I know,” Elizabeth said softly.

“You do?” Wickham’s eyes widened in surprise.

Richard’s solicitor had informed her of the payments to Wickham shortly after her betrothed’s death. She had thought Wickham might give up the arrangement after Richard’s death, but it had been a foolish hope.

Wickham recovered smoothly. “Well, yes. You know, I was discharged from the army. But the colonel was good enough to help me pay debts stemming from your sister’s illness and funeral.”

“I did not realize you paid for her funeral with card games,” Elizabeth said.

Wickham blinked and forged ahead. “I-your sister, God rest her soul, was ill a long time, her entire pregnancy, and I only wanted the best care for her.” Elizabeth wondered if Wickham had even once called the doctor to treat his wife.

“My sister has been dead for more than a year. Any expenses you incurred would surely have been offset by now, given how much money Richard has already sent you.” Elizabeth struggled to keep her tone even.