An Unlikely Acquaintance

Part 20

Whilst Lizzy was sorry for Jane's ankle, which was still not mended sufficient enough to see her take another long walk with her sister, she could not help but embrace the chance to walk alone. Here, Elizabeth could walk at the pace she chose, deviate from set paths as she chose, and pause to admire a particularly pretty spider's web, laced with frost, as she chose.

"Charming, isn't it?"

Lizzy started, looking up in surprise to see the jaunty figure of Mr Wickham strolling towards her. His smile grew and she felt her cheeks redden at being so observed. She wondered just how long he had been watching her, trying to recall what, if anything, she had been doing before this particular specimen of nature's beauty had distracted her.

"I always feel rather sorry for spiders," Mr Wickham continued, coming close enough to peer at the web that had so captured Elizabeth's imagination. "I mean, they work so hard to construct such things of beauty and then -" He tugged on a branch, causing the entire web to collapse in upon itself. "They are so easily destroyed!"

"Cruel!" Lizzy admonished, turning to brush the suddenly homeless spider from where he had landed on her arm.

"Alas yes." Wickham sighed, but his smile did not falter. "But at least I embrace that element of my character. Whom amongst us can claim perfection?"

Lizzy reddened, wondering if he was as aware of her faults as he appeared to be of his own and thinking it not at all gentlemanly to speak so forthrightly to her on an otherwise deserted road.

Yet is this not what you admire most about Mr Wickham? There is not a particle of unnecessary pride about him. She blinked, recalling the contrast her mind was only too eager to tease her with, comparing uptight, arrogant Mr Darcy with the charming, amiable figure beside her. Yes, I will take honesty and flaws over self-perceived perfection any day!

"I am just taking a walk, Mr Wickham. You see I could not persuade a single one of my sisters to accompany me."

"You must be satisfied with me for an escort, in that case." Mr Wickham dipped in a ridiculous, over-the-top version of a courtly bow, and proffered his hand with a simpering, lovelorn expression. "Oh, Miss Elizabeth, will you do me the great honour of permitting me to walk a little way - only a very little way - at your right hand?"

Elizabeth laughed and said that yes, she would permit it, if only they could have a sensible conversation like the friends they were.

"We are friends, then?" Mr Wickham brightened. "I am very pleased to hear it."

"I should hope we are," Elizabeth said, careful to keep a distance between them, but prompted to return Wickham's smile with one of her own. He was very handsome, and there was something about being with him, the way he sought to make one feel as if one was the most interesting, the most elegant, the most charming...

"Indeed we are," he agreed, his smile dampening a little as he continued. "I am pleased, Miss Elizabeth, because I rather feared that you had grown to think ill of me in my absence. I did not realise, of course, that our fellow friend, Mr Darcy, had likewise taken leave of Hertfordshire." He sniffed. "I was left to only imagine what lies he had told you about me - yes, Miss Elizabeth, I say lies, but you must not hold my bluntness against me. You know, for I confided as much to you, that there is some history between Mr Darcy and I and whilst I have striven never to speak too ill of the man I fear he does not do me the same courtesy."

"He told me nothing," Elizabeth said, a little surprised to see what looked like genuine concern lurking in the back of Mr Wickham's eyes. "That is, nothing I take very seriously." She shrugged hr shoulders. "I suppose it is easy to dismiss Mr Darcy's poor opinion when one has earned it oneself, and as easily as I did."

"I cannot imagine a fellow alive not caring for you. No, Elizabeth, do not tell me that Darcy found fault with you, for I shall not believe it possible, even though I know he is capable of finding fault with almost anyone."

"You seem not to extend the same degree of disappointment to his cousin." Lizzy was eager to change the subject, although she did not know why. Previously she might have enjoyed the chance to walk as close companion to the handsome Mr Wickham and share secrets that spoke ill of Mr Darcy. She was not vindictive by nature but, having been cruelly hurt by Mr Darcy's unkind opinion of her, she could not help but admit to finding some enjoyment in forming a friendship with someone who liked him even less well than she did.

"It should serve me ill if I did," Wickham said with a merry laugh. "Recall, Miss Elizabeth, that Colonel Fitzwilliam is my superior, and if I wish to survive life under his authority I must treat him with a degree of respect." He paused, apparently considering the matter. "Not that he is undeserving of the same. I suppose he has told you his war-stories?"

"Not a single one," Lizzy confessed, her heart-rate quickening. "He was away at the war, I know, but I have heard nothing more." Her voice dropped. "Was he quite brave?"

"Very." Wickham proceeded to describe in scant detail the many campaigns that had won Colonel Fitzwilliam his rank and the reprieve of a quiet stint in charge of the Meryton barracks.

"Why, he never said as much!" Lizzy was shocked. "I would have thought he might, for it is surely something -"

"Worthy of boasting about?" Wickham shook his head. "Indeed, I confess I do not understand the fellow either. He is too humble for his own good." He chuckled, and after a moment, Lizzy's glance bade him speak. "It occurs to me that perhaps he has received a double-dose of humility: his, and his cousin's. That might explain Darcy's insuperable pride. What do you think, Miss Elizabeth? Have I solved the mystery?"

His eyes glinted merrily and Elizabeth found herself laughing, before she thought better of the response and choked her amusement back, a little relieved when the path reached a fork and she was obliged to take the route back towards home and allow Mr Wickham to go on. She did like George Wickham and found his humour amusing, but when it bordered on cruel she wondered if she ought to. Mary would not approve. But then Mary so rarely approved of anything. Nor would Jane. This, then, was enough to lead Lizzy to repentance, and she took the path back towards Longbourn at a double pace, eager to be once more in the presence of her own personal saint, and thinking she must do some degree of penance to make up for the uncharitable turn her thoughts had taken, however deserving of them the absent Mr Darcy might be.