“What have you heard? All accolades, I suppose?”
She turned to look at Mr. Wickham. “What haveyouheard? How do you know him?”
Mr. Wickham shrugged. “No, no. I shan’t speak out of turn. But I may say this, what you don’t hear about that man might shock you.”
“Well, the impression I have of him is that he’s haughty and proud and thinks rather too well of himself,” said Elizabeth.
Mr. Wickham laughed. “There we are, well, someone sees him clearly. That is all I shall say on the subject, however. Wild horses could drag nothing more from me.”
Elizabeth thought to herself that no one said that bit about wild horses dragging things from them if they weren’t just bursting to confess all of it.
But Mr. Wickham’s confession would have to wait, because she was accosted by a breathless Caroline, who was all smiles, telling Elizabeth that her plan to tell Jane had worked swimmingly, and that her brother was not even nearly as angry as he could have been, and that he had agreed to pretend that he had invited Mr. Darcy to stay after all. “You are a wonder!” said Caroline.
Elizabeth glanced around for Mr. Wickham, but he had moved off with Mr. Denny, and they were walking off down the streets.
“Now, where is this Mr. Collins?” said Caroline. “Introduce me, if you would?”
Elizabeth would have rather not put herself into Mr. Collins’s vantage point, but she took Caroline over and made the introductions.
Caroline spoke to the man with politeness, but Elizabeth could see she was assessing him, trying to determine where she could match a man like this.
However, that must be hopeless. No one would wish to marry a man like Mr. Collins. Positivelyno onewould.
“I WONDER ABOUTCharlotte,” Caroline was saying.
“Oh, heavens, that’s the worst idea in the world,” said Elizabeth. “To saddle poor Charlotte with that man is a punishment Charlotte does not deserve!”
The two were talking on the outskirts of Meryton. Elizabeth’s sisters were walking up the road, away from her, with Mr. Collins, and she could not stay and talk for too long.
“Charlotte would have taken Mr. Hurst,” said Caroline.
“True,” said Elizabeth, who would not, herself, have taken Mr. Hurst.
“Charlotte is older than we are,” said Caroline.
“True,” said Elizabeth, who knew that Charlotte was eight and twenty, who knew that Charlotte’s knight of afather was respectable but shabby and that Charlotte’s dowry was less impressive than Elizabeth’s, and Elizabeth’s was not impressive.
“Charlotte’s position would likely be well improved at that rectory. The Lucases cannot even keep a cook!”
“True,” said Elizabeth again. She spread her hands. She began to back up, moving towards her sisters, who were disappearing into the distance. “But we must let her decide for herself, and if she will not have him, we shall not press it.”
“All right,” said Caroline. “I suppose I should think of a backup, then. Perhaps your sister? Perhaps Mary?”
“Oh, my mother won’t like it, Charlotte mistress of Longbourn,” muttered Elizabeth.
“Charles is going to give a ball,” said Caroline.
“A ball? At Netherfield?” said Elizabeth.
“Aye,” said Caroline. “I think he wants to impress Mr. Darcy.”
Why had Mr. Darcy come here so easily? Elizabeth wondered what it was that Caroline had said in the letter she’d written. She must ask, but she needed to go. She backed up further. “Well, we can introduce Charlotte to Mr. Collins then.”
“You must contrive to dance with Mr. Darcy!” Caroline called after her. “I need you to understand him in that way of yours.”
“Yes, of course,” said Elizabeth, turning round, hurrying as she walked up the road to catch her sisters and Mr. Collins up.
CHAPTER FOUR
