Free The Houseguest A Pride and Prejudice Vagary by Elizabeth Adams

on his arm and began
to rub it vigorously between his own. When he had gone on for a few moments, he
gently laid it back on his arm and held out his palm for her other hand. She
looked at him questioningly, and then cautiously laid her hand in his larger
one. He followed the same procedure, rubbing it between his large, sturdy hands
while she self-consciously watched his movement. 

When he had finished, he released her hand and asked softly, “Better?”

“Yes, quite, I thank you,” she replied quietly.

They walked the remaining block in silence, stepped into the house, and with a
shy smile, she went upstairs to prepare for dinner.
     

    Chapter 4
     
     
    Elizabeth
sighed and laid her head back on the soft towel rolled up across the back of
the enormous tub. Since arriving in London, Elizabeth had enjoyed daily baths,
something she had done only thrice weekly at Longbourn. But here, with so fewer
people to fetch water for and so many more servants to accommodate, it was a
luxury she was quickly becoming accustomed to. She had even entertained the
thought of one in the morning and another at night, but dismissed it as being
too greedy.

As the steam rose around her, curling her hair and plastering the short
tendrils to her forehead, she closed her eyes and relived the events of the
day. Her walk with Mr. Darcy had been most enlightening. She wouldn’t have
thought he had such a devilish sense of humor, and she definitely wouldn’t have
thought that she would have enjoyed it as much as she had. 

Perhaps there was something to what Aunt Gardiner had said; maybe she should
give him a chance to tell his side of the story. But hadn’t she done that? At
the Netherfield Ball, she told him she had heard differing accounts of him.
What was his response? 
‘I can readily
believe that reports may vary greatly with respect to me.’
 Why
would he say that? How many reports were there? All she had heard was from
Wickham, and their reaction to each other seemed to confirm some animosity
between them. 

Of course Mr. Bingley certainly seemed to think rather highly of him - now
there was an odd relationship. But she didn’t have time to think about that
now.

Focus, Elizabeth.
 While
they were dancing, what else did he say? 
‘I
could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to sketch my character at the
present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect
no credit on either.’
 No credit on either? If she sketched him
according to Wickham, it did reflect badly on Mr. Darcy, but why would it
reflect badly on her? 

Thinking back, Elizabeth tried to remember everything Mr. Wickham had said
about Darcy. That he was proud and disagreeable she remembered, and then the
whole story about his father being a generous man and leaving Wickham a living
she remembered quite clearly. He had asked if she was acquainted with Miss
Darcy, and when she told him they had recently become friends, Wickham said she
was a sweet girl and quickly went back to speaking about Mr. Darcy.

A memory was niggling at the back of Elizabeth’s mind, but she could not pull
it out. She dipped her arms back into the water and drew circles with her
fingertips along the surface. Old Mr. Darcy had been an excellent man, yes, she
remembered that clearly enough. What else had he said about him? That the
father had loved him dearly and remembered him in his will, and Wickham had
great respect for him. Yes, yes, there was something else… Yes! Wickham had
said that he could not disparage the son out of respect for the father. That
was it! Yet he didn’t follow that course, did he? After Netherfield was closed
and its inhabitants gone back to town, Wickham had freely and loudly told his
sorry tale to anyone who would listen. Was that not disparaging the son? 

A sinking feeling began to work its way into Elizabeth’s stomach. Did Darcy
know Wickham was telling tales about him? Is that why he had said it would not
be a credit to her to