EDMUND BENNET

Before much time had passed since Elizabeth and Jane's return to Longbourn, news of the arrival of a certain Mr. Collins reached Longbourn, and I was worried lest our peacemaking cousin take a shine to my sister. Our being on the same level as the nephew of his patroness, though, I highly doubted it. I loved my sister deeply and dearly, and I dreaded the day when I would have to give her away. I only hoped she would find a man worthy of her intelligence and wit, at least.

At any rate, come the dreaded day did, and I found myself waiting in the parlour of Longbourn Manor, pacing the floor in a restless mood. "Is this Collins going to be as foolish as his letter, Uncle?" I wondered quietly.

Uncle Thomas' eye shone with mirth. "I have every hope of it, my boy," said he; "as well as the high hopes of very original entertainment." For once I was bored with my sensible uncle.

When the clergyman was shown into our company, I disliked him immediately. He was rather stubby, and was shorter even than Aunt Frances, the shortest of us all. He also had greasy black hair plastered to his pasty forehead, his lips curling in the most obsequious toady grin I had ever seen, surpassing even the frog I had caught as a boy. The man looked about twenty-five, and looked every bit the toady. His clergyman's clothes were clearly only a veneer for a very proud spirit. Collins was the worst mix of arrogance and sycophancy; the better to annoy us all with.

I frowned as Collins bowed to me and Uncle Thomas, then launched into a speech about how good it was to see us all well, and blah blah blah… honestly I stopped listening to his chatter after about the sixth word, when it would be evident that he would drone on for hours.

I had one ear to his useless drivel and another ear to Uncle Thomas' commentary. The Master of Longbourn was whispering side notes to me as his cousin spoke. However, I allowed my thoughts to wander to last night.

Darcy did have quite the spirit, but I liked him. His sister and mine already seemed thick as thieves and I liked that too. Miss Darcy appeared to be just the mix of shy and firebrand that was my sister's favourite type of person – yours truly excluded, of course. I was her brother, and I could not grow up around her without gaining her ease in company.

I had noted in passing that while Miss Darcy's features almost mirrored her brother's, she was not handsome in the classical sense, not like cousin Jane.

Suddenly, I heard Mr. Collins make a comment about ladies being indifferent to sermons written 'for their benefit' even though said sermons belittled women in general and proclaimed male supremacy, something that was wrong to me and my sister. I had had enough. I rose. "If you will excuse me, uncle, Mr. Collins, ladies, I shall ride." I managed to bow out politely and saddle my horse without raging at that clergyman.

However, when I had made one round of Longbourn, I saw Lydia, Kitty, Jane, and Lizzibeth heading out (to Meryton, no doubt) with that detestable Collins! I reined my horse in sharply and trotted after them. Dismounting, I jogged to catch up, and bowed. "I shall accompany you, if you will tolerate my company, of course."

"You are always welcome to me, Edmund," Lizzibeth told me with a smile that said everything of her relief. Cousin Jane smiled at me and nodded, and my two foolish cousins were too absorbed in their talk of militiamen to pay much attention to me.

Head into town we did, and along the way Kitty and Lydia called out to one of the lieutenants – Denny, I think his name was. He waved and came over, bringing with him a plain-clothes man whom he introduced as his soon-to-be colleague Wickham.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wickham," said I.

We were duly introduced, and Wickham was pleasant in his manner to all. I quite liked the young man, with his easy address and his perfect manners. I recognized him as the Wickham of Cambridge, the most charming student there. I had quite liked him then too. I could see Lizzibeth was quite taken with him, and I smiled. It was only when I heard hooves that I thought to look away.

I saw Darcy, who looked rather softer than I had seen him last, and Bingley, who was as jovial as always. I felt rather ashamed when I saw the yellowish bruise on his face. Perhaps I should not have hit him so hard. He surprisingly turned to me and nodded. "Good morning, Mr. Bennet," said he.

"Good morning to you as well, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley," I found myself replying.

"Oh come now, Bennet, no need for formalities," Bingley said cheerfully. "We were just for Longbourn to ask after your cousin's health." There was no need to ask which cousin he meant.

"As you can see, Cousin Jane is quite well, Bingley," I said.

And that was when Darcy and Wickham noticed each other. Wickham caught Darcy's eye and flushed, while Darcy drew himself up straighter, paling in anger. Interesting. What history could they have? "Fancy seeing you here, Mr. Wickham," he said coldly.

"Greetings to you as well, Darcy," Wickham said, which surprised us all.

"Are you two acquainted?" Elizabeth asked of him boldly.

"They were roommates at Cambridge, though they kept avoiding each other," I supplied. Darcy nodded at me, amazingly not angry, and said, "Your brother is correct, Miss Elizabeth. George here and I were childhood friends – he was my father's godson."

Wickham looked startled at being acknowledged. "Well – yes."

Darcy looked torn for a moment, and then said, quietly, "He is a spendthrift and a scoundrel. I would advise you all to stay away from him." He then looked at me and said, "Mr. Bennet, a word."

I went uncertainly, as he dismounted and led me to the side. "He should not be allowed near your cousins and sister, Mr. Bennet," he said warningly. "He will not hesitate to take advantage of them if they show him the least bit of favour. Warn the merchants in Meryton not to extend him credit, and warn all the guardians of young ladies not to let them near him."

"This is all a rather ludicrous accusation, sir," I said. "Can you prove it?"

"I have paid over twenty thousand pounds for his debts over the years, and that is counting after graduation," he replied bitterly.

I was, to be honest, shocked to the core. Wickham – agreeable, charming, smiling Wickham – was… God! It was much to absorb and still more to believe. Could Darcy be telling the truth? Or was he lying simply to get one over on Wickham for being his father's godson? He was looking me earnestly in the eye, and my heart sank. He was telling the truth.

"That is… God."

"I have more proof," he continued. "My father had wanted to help him advance in his career, and had intended him for the church. To that effect he left a certain living to him in his will, but fortunately worded it conditionally – if he wanted to take orders – so that it could be taken as a mere condition. I knew he was not fit to be a clergyman, and so I was relieved when he said he would rather study law. I gave him three thousand pounds, which was the worth of the living, as well as the one-thousand-pound bequest which was his due, and thought it was the last I would see of him. I was wrong.

"Less than three years later, he turned up on my doorstep when the incumbent of the living in question – that of Kympton – and claimed that he was all but destitute. Looking at his spendthrift ways, I could not but believe him. Of course I denied him the living – I had, and still own, the document he signed signifying his receipt of his four thousand. He burst out angrily and left so.

"That is all I can say at the moment, although there was an incident that nailed down the coffin of our relationship that is a very, very delicate matter" – he emphasized very – "which cannot be brought up in public. Understand, it is not myself, but my sister I am protecting. Please, you must understand, Bennet."

My heart plummeted to my stomach. He had looked me steadily in the eye during this whole tale, and Darcy was a man known to be honest, even when brutally so. His eyes pleaded with me so, I could not resist even my old rival. "I shall take your warning to heart, Mr. Darcy."

"I thank you immensely," said he, visibly relieved. "And… I have been thinking. It was only the school's competitiveness that kept us at odds, it seems now. Would… could you put aside your grudge? Would you be willing to be my friend instead?" Shyly, almost haltingly, Darcy held out his hand.

I regarded it. Could I?

There was really nothing wrong with him that a little kindness and understanding could not fix. Besides, we were almost boys compared to our present selves when this rivalry started. We really should have put it aside long ago.

But before I could do more than raise my hand, Wickham walked up. "Ah, hello, Bennet," said he, with far too much familiarity.

I looked at Darcy. His hand was retracted, and I thought I could see hurt in his eyes, replaced by anger. I tried to convey my message that I did want to be friends with him, but he turned to his horse immediately, and dragged Bingley away. I felt a pang of regret. I wanted to become friends with this enigmatic, strangely contradictory man. He seemed to be a loyal man as well.

And right now, I was disgusted with Wickham's company. "If you will excuse me, Mr. Wickham," I greeted him coldly. "Lizzibeth!" I called to my sister. "Let us go home. Bring Kitty, Lydia, and Collins with you and Jane. No matter what they say, they must be on their way now!"

She nodded, and herded our cousins away. Wickham tried to speak to me, but I rushed over to Captain and threw a leg up. For once, my horse, who I had nicknamed 'Dizzy', seemed to comprehend, and galloped back toward Longbourn at a breakneck pace, and I did not let up until Wickham was out of sight.

Damn that Wickham!

The next day our aunt Phillips (although technically she was not my aunt, nor Elizabeth's, she was Jane's) had a card party that Lizzy and I 'simply have to attend'! And though we rolled our eyes and teased and laughed, we went anyway.

I was quite diverted by a game of whist with Sir Lucas, young Mr. Goulding, and Hopkins, when the militia unexpectedly – or not so much for those who were not me and Lizzy, apparently – entered. A low growl escaped me when that Wickham began to make his way over to Lizzy. However, I was playing a game, and it would be very rude to simply stand up and leave, so, in a state of great uneasiness, I finished the game, Hopkins and I winning with 5 points at long last.

You, dear reader, can imagine what consternation and chagrin consumed me when I found Elizabeth deep in conversation with Wickham, and even looking outraged. Oh, what lies was he telling my sister? I very nearly stormed over and slapped him right there. "Elizabeth," I said.

"Yes, brother?" She seemed surprised to find me glaring daggers at Wickham.

"Come here, please."

She obeyed, looking confused. "What is it?"

I beckoned her to the balcony, and then whirled and hissed at her, "What are you doing, talking to Wickham with such familiarity?"

My poor sister looked so shocked that I calmed down and said, "No… I apologize, sweetling, I was just trying to protect you. I… I found from a very reliable source that Wickham is not quite what he seems."

"It is Mr. Darcy, is it not?" she hissed, drawing a sharp breath. "That snake! I had not known…"

"Yes, it is Mr. Darcy. What did Wickham say?"

"He told me about how Darcy was so jealous of his father's affection for him that he cheated him of the living." Lizzibeth's eyes flashed angrily. "How he and Georgiana fell in love but Darcy interfered because he thought in some twisted way that Mr. Wickham was not good enough for his sister."

"What living did he mention?" I demanded.

"…he did not say a name."

"It was Kympton, the parish barely three miles from Darcy's estate. Darcy warned me, Lizzy, and you know how I can tell when he is lying. He looked straight at me the whole time. He was not lying. Tell me, has Georgiana shown any signs of bitterness against her brother?"

"Wickham told me that Georgiana was brainwashed into thinking that Darcy was doing her a favour," Elizabeth said passionately.

When we went home to Longbourn, I was worried. Very, very worried.

Eager to close the breach between us, I wrote Darcy, too impatient to wait for morning and too polite to saddle Captain and ride over.

Dear Darcy,

I know you think I refused your friendship, but it is quite the opposite. I do wish to reconcile with you. I find you quite intriguing, and I think you and I would make a very powerful team.

I believe you. I know you are a very honest man, sometimes brutally so, and I know you would not lie for something as trivial as this. However, Darcy, I am faced with a problem. My sister believes that man, and even I, her brother, cannot sway her opinion. I need your help, and much as I do not deserve it, I must beg you.

In the name of our newfound friendship, Darcy, please.

Edmund Bennet

I did not expect him to actually reply, let alone help me. So I persisted, and Elizabeth and I had a row for the first time in years. She thought Darcy had swayed me over to his side, and she was determined to have me see the light. The row… deteriorated into a fight, and not even the slam of my door could make me feel better.

That night I lay on my bed with a weight on my heart. I loved my sister so, it hurt me to have to see her like this. I needed to let her see the truth, but I feared that it was impossible with both of us being so stubborn.

Imagine then my astonishment when Hill – the butler, not his wife the housekeeper – came rushing up the stairs to tell me between gasps for breath: "Mr. Darcy – here – to see you – sir."

"Mr. Darcy?!" I jumped out of my library seat and dashed to the parlour. Sure enough, there was his tall, lean frame, supporting itself by one arm against the mantel there. "I – I did not expect you, sir."

He turned to me with a smile. "I received your note. Is it really that bad?"

I sighed. "Thank you for coming so quickly. Yes, it is that bad."

"I came prepared," he said. "Here is the receipt for the three thousand and the one thousand, both signed by Wickham himself. Here are the letters, signed by Georgiana and Wickham. He told her they fell in love?" I nodded. "She fell in love with him. He fell in love with her dowry. You wonder why my sister is so shy – she has had her heart broken before. And it was Wickham."

Gentle, beautiful Georgiana? I was both shocked and stricken by this revelation. "They – he…?"

"No compromise occurred, but only by sheer luck. I was able to break it all off before he could make off with her, and he railed at me and at her. She realized what he was." His eyes were full of pain, the skin between them pinched. "Please, do not reveal this to anyone."

"I trusted you, now you must trust me," I said.

He smiled slightly. "If you would please call your sister here."

"Show her the letters first, that will establish Wickham's signature," I suggested. "Then show her the receipts."

"Brilliant! I like the way you think." We both laughed over it before I called out for Kirk and had him send for my sister. When she appeared in the door, scowling, her frown deepened when she saw Darcy beside me.

"Wickham is dangerous, Lizzibeth, and Darcy has brought his proof to help you see that," I said.

"Let us start with the letters," said he, handing her one letter from Georgiana. She went through all of them and glared at him. "So you did break their engagement off."

"I did, but for good reason. Look at this." He showed her the receipts. "This amount was gone through in less than three years, with only himself to please, and he did not even study law as he promised. Here is a letter to prove that." I peered over my sister's shoulder as he handed her the letter. It read:

Dear Darcy,

Greetings!

I hope you have heard of my situation. I am all but destitute – it seems the law is not quite a profitable profession for me. Would you help an old friend? I know old Mr. Harrison has died, and now that it is time for you to grant me Kympton's living, I hope that you will remember your dear departed dad and your old childhood friend.

Sincerely,

George Wickham

I pulled away just as she pulled the receipts towards her and analysed the dates. They were real. "God…"

"Georgiana is alright," he said, almost in reply to her unspoken question. "She is still heartbroken, but at least is willing to overcome it, and not to throw away her life. I am proud of my sister, and I think your brother and I find that a common trait, do we not, Bennet?"

"That we do, Darcy."

Elizabeth's eyes streamed tears, and I suddenly felt like a horrible brother for not comforting her through the painful crash her mind and trust in herself had just had. I put my arms around her and she suddenly stood and collapsed against my chest. I stroked her hair, feeling guilty. "Thank you very much, Darcy," I said, grateful to my new friend.

He nodded, eyes suspiciously lowered, and gathered his papers. Softly, he said, "Miss Elizabeth, I did it for your brother. I know you think I am insufferable, and you have a right to say that, but I dislike having you think ill of me. I shall prove myself." And then he left.

I held on to my sister while her tears subsided. I was confused. Very, very confused.

Here ends my twofer and again I want to thank my 192 followers and the 52 amazing people who've favorited my story. I love it. Thank you and Merry Christmas!

To the Guest who reviewed 25 December | 2 am: Merry Christmas to you too! *cyber hug* I know you literally just reviewed now but I thank you for being one of the amazing people who support my writing obsession. Thank you for being there to appreciate the words that flow out of me no matter what. I may need criticism but I also need people to ground me and tell me that I'm okay. THANK YOU A MILLION!

~Alex