Wickham's Wife

by C. J. Hill

Julia was very pleased with her investment indeed.

  Chapter 15

  Throughout Julia’s preparations of the previous month Wickham had been conspicuous by his absence. He had returned to the scene of their quarrel several days later to apologise for his behaviour and politely enquire as to her plans for the future, but when he learnt that Julia had proceeded, undaunted by his irritated method of leaving, his extended absence, or his advice against such an investment, and that she was, at that very moment about to walk to the bank to sign papers of conveyance, his feelings of inconsequence had only increased. And, if he was to scrutinise his innermost feelings on the subject, those of self-defeat and a selfish concern for his own security were the most prevalent. Here was evidence enough that Julia did not need his presence or his advice, and would continue to increase her security just as ably as he managed to undermine his.

  He had made his apologies as intended; enquired and then listened with increasing resentment as Julia recounted her activities to date, noting her excitement about the house and its prospects; made the required encouraging comments about said projects and then took his leave before she had the opportunity to enquire about his.

  Needless to say, Wickham had not progressed as sensibly as Julia: on the contrary; he had regressed dreadfully. On one of his first nights back in London he had met with some of his old gambling associates and, only slightly against his better judgment, been convinced to watch them play a round or two. Needless also to say, he had been quite unable to merely watch the game, endowed as he was with such a happy influx of unexpected income.

  His logic for joining the game was simple: his money was unanticipated and was, therefore, surplus to requirements and could be gambled without being missed. And so, inevitably, he had lost: again, and again, and again, until nothing was left of his unexpected good fortune, and a sizeable amount had also been taken from his meagre savings; he only managed to resist any further losses by removing himself entirely from the tables and returning to his rooms, bruised from the experience and berating himself too late for his weakness.

  But he had cause for even more repentance when he visited Julia the following day and heard her news. His attempt to prevent her from spending all of her money in property had been, as she had immediately realised, a purely selfish one, merely to give him some assurance that her funds would be available should he need them for his own dire situation. Not for the first time did his thoughts turn to bitterness against her refusal to be his wife - then there would be no difficulty about using her money as he needed - but, just as quickly, did he regret such base emotions against the one woman who remained his most staunch ally even after all he had done, and all she had endured because of him.

  Now he had squandered his hopes for the future and felt she had left him behind by proceeding with her plans; once again succeeding where he was failing. His advertised investigations into several business opportunities had, of course, been mere figments of his imagination. He had made some limited enquiries, it was true, but, upon learning of the terms, and the outlay, and the effort required for each, had come to the conclusion that none were in the slightest bit suitable for his particular talents. Naturally, he had no intention of telling her the truth of his failures and losses; she would be so disappointed in him and he could not bear to see that look in her eyes, the one he had glimpsed during their fight when that obnoxious little attorney had arrived and interrupted his argument against her purchasing property in London.

  It was for these reasons that Wickham had stayed away from Julia: shame, embarrassment, despair, and an increasing feeling of unworthiness prevailed, and it was a despondent Wickham who met by chance his friends Captains Carter and Denny as he walked alone through the Park on a cold and damp afternoon near the beginning of October. His miserable contemplations were interrupted by the vigourous shouting of Denny, who, upon the third, "Halloo, there! Wickham, my man!" finally managed to catch Wickham's attention and thump his shoulder with the greatest delight.

  "How fortunate to catch you here, Wickham. We expected we would find you in London at one of the clubs, you know, but no one has seen sight nor sound of you for some weeks. How is life with you, my friend, since we parted company in Ramsgate?"

  Wickham was happy to see his old friends again and felt distinctly cheered by their obvious pleasure in seeing him, but unwilling to explain his lamentable situation. Instead, he enquired eagerly about their presence in Town and their own plans.

  "We shall tell you all, Wickham," exclaimed Carter, stamping his boots to encourage the circulation in his feet, "but first let us retire to some warm hostelry before the telling of it. This weather worsens, I believe, and I would not catch a cold from chatting with you."

  They repaired to a nearby inn and, over warming glasses of mulled wine, discussed their respective lives in the intervening period. It transpired that the Regiment to which both Denny and Carter belonged was removing to a secluded village in Hertfordshire for the entire Winter.

  "But I do not know what we are expected to do there." exclaimed Denny as he called for more wine. "We are supposed to defend the country against invasion while the Regulars are fighting overseas, but I cannot see any invasion happening in a small country village, can you? I cannot see that we must defend the populace there from the terrors of the French. So we shall be quite safe and at leisure to do whatever we please, I am certain of that. I would much rather be sent into danger and excitement than moulder away the Winter in retirement and safety."

  "And who is your commanding officer for these dangerous duties?" enquired Wickham laughing. His friends appeared perfectly content with their lot and a plan was forming in his mind: a commission in a regiment, especially if there was no question of seeing any action overseas, seemed to him a perfect solution to his current woes of unemployment and impecuniousness. He hoped a commission might be afforded with the remnants of his savings. Last, but by no means least in his considerations, was the certainty that such a move would be something of which Julia would approve.

  "Oh, a Colonel Forster we understand. He has been based in Brighton for the Summer - he has a house there - while we were at Ramsgate. We have only recently been introduced; a most charming gentleman, is not he, Carter?"

  Carter laughed. "Oh, indeed he is! I believe he intends spending most of his time in Hertfordshire perfecting the manners of a country gentleman, befriending the locals and entertaining as regularly as he did in Brighton. He is, by all accounts, a very capable officer when the need arises - he insisted on rigorous training for his men this Summer, we are warned, and so I am sure he will ensure we are trained sufficiently in case of attack from any local dissenters."

  "So it is to be an extended rest more than anything,” sighed Denny, “which does not please everybody, but there it is. I suppose we have endured discomforts enough in Ramsgate with the training and drills and long marches in the Summer heat, that a little respite will not come amiss, and so, if there is to be no excitement or action to be had, then I will try to be content with comfortable lodgings, friendly neighbours with pretty daughters, an assembly or two, and the most minimal training. What say you, Carter?"

  The talk continued in the same vein for another hour at least, by which time Wickham's former despondency had been entirely forgot. He had resolved within that hour, much to his friends' delighted approval, to enquire about a commission in their Regiment if one could be got, which they assured him was as good as done.

  The friends parted company in great high spirits and, instead of returning to his own rooms, Wickham felt the desire to visit Julia in her new situation, which he had, as yet, not visited, and apprise her of recent developments in his life. She answered his knock promptly and with no little surprise, showing him into the back parlour which she used for her own purposes and privacy. The hour was not long after six o'clock, the fire blazed merrily in the hearth against the Autumnal chill, and candles arrayed around the room glinted off polished wood and mirrors in a most cha
rming and welcoming manner.

  Wickham stretched out in the chair nearest the fire, enjoying the warmth of the room and the feeling of well-being that had enveloped him since meeting with Denny and Carter. Julia placed a warm drink at his elbow and then settled herself at the other side of the fire waiting to hear his reason for calling after so many weeks of absence. She observed the heightened colour in his cheeks and had smelt the alcohol on his breath when he bent to kiss her; she was in no doubt from where his good humour had sprung. She took up a piece of needlework and waited for him to start the conversation. He could not hold out for long.

  "Well, Julia! You have certainly a sweet little room here for yourself. It is most comfortable and welcoming indeed. What a lot of work you must have done this past month to get everything ready. Have you rented out any rooms yet? I might take one myself you know. It would be delightful to live under the same roof as you, my dear, and much more convenient!"

  Julia flushed at the hint and smiled wryly. "Oh, yes, indeed. Most of the rooms were let within the first week of advertising and they are all taken now. I have been most fortunate with my tenants - all very respectable gentlemen in trade or some other business in the City. They all assure me they are very happy to have found my house; they say it is so well-managed and well-kept they would never wish to leave. It is gratifying indeed to hear such praise already!"

  Wickham grunted, staring at the fire, approving her words without comment, but noting that she had not concurred with his notion of allowing him one of the rooms.

  "And how are you doing, George? I have seen nothing of you since I bought this place. I had thought you would have paid me a visit before now but I presume you were concentrating on your own business? I do hope you have found something with which to create some independence?"

  This was the enquiry he was waiting for. "Indeed, yes, of course I have! I have been excessively busy as you so rightly surmise, much too busy to attend to any other thing. I have been investigating many very promising avenues of business and have made significant progress with a few of them. But, unfortunately, I find many of them require far more of me than I can manage, both financially and personally to make them a success."

  "That is unfortunate indeed, George, but every endeavour requires hard work you know. I recall you expressing a desire to settle down into some serious occupation; in fact you seemed most emphatic upon proving that point not so long ago. I hope you will keep trying to find something which you can afford and will provide you some satisfaction."

  Wickham smiled through his haze of wine and warmth; with Julia sitting so close he felt as though everything was right in his world regardless of the facts of the matter, which were that every word she said was the truth and he felt she probably knew his words were lies. Nothing had been actually resolved or decided between his friends and him - they had no authority to dispense a commission even though they had been convinced it was as good as done. To all of these truths he closed his inward eye and focused instead upon what he understood at that moment. He was happy; he was warm; he was with Julia; and he might be able to afford a commission if one became available and if he could convince the powers that be to allow him to join. Never one to allow the truth to tarnish a pleasing story he opened his eyes and looked at Julia.

  "I am to gain a commission in a Militia regiment, my dear. I should have mentioned it earlier perhaps, but I have, just now, been in the company of two of my friends from London and more recently, Ramsgate, - Captains Carter and Denny – perhaps you remember them? They have spent the Summer training to defend our country and I should like to do the same. It is honourable thing for a gentleman to do and I shall happily endure any amount of discomfort to support our nation in its time of need." His words trailed away into silence.

  Julia was aghast! She turned pale, stared quickly at Wickham and then back at the fire, finished her last stitch, snapped the thread and then looked back at Wickham. There was no sign of a joke: there was no sign of anything. He had dozed off in reaction to the warmth, wine, and comfortable chair. She watched his face relax as his slumber deepened and the familiar tug of her heart forced her to acknowledge, once again, that here was the man she loved, regardless of his behaviour, his inability to settle to anything, and his utter lack of security or sense of the future. He had nothing, she suspected, except her. She also suspected that, once again, he was in dire straits; that his money had all but run out except for, perhaps, enough to buy his way into the military, which, she knew, would be costly indeed, probably more than he guessed – or, perhaps, he intended asking her to cover the expense of it. Nothing would surprise her about George.

  Quietly, as she stitched her needlework, she reflected on their life together so far; of the many troubles that had woven their way in and out of her life due, entirely, to George. What was she doing, being in love with such a man? What had he that forced her to take him back time after time, knowing exactly what he was and would always be? For what seemed like the hundredth time she thanked her prudential nature that had forbidden her to accept him as her husband, much as her heart wished it. This sleeping man across the hearth could have caused so much greater havoc for her had she become his wife. But she would never suffer that misfortune: he would never change and she could never trust her life to him. And for that reason alone she knew, with great sadness, that they would never be legally husband and wife.

  Much to her astonishment, Julia discovered a week later that not only was George in earnest about gaining a commission, but had also worked out the means so to do. As suspected, his remaining savings, when scrutinized carefully, ran to just enough to purchase the required uniform and equipment, and so he had sent a letter of application to Colonel Forster in the care of Denny requesting that he be considered as a Gentleman Volunteer. The missive contained all manner of assurances that he, George Wickham, formerly of the Pemberley Estate in Derbyshire, was desirous of serving his country in the Militia and was prepared to support himself until such time as a non-purchase vacancy might become available. In any event, he was entirely at Colonel Forster’s disposal.

  Julia hesitated for a while, uncertain if it was her place to question this new venture but after another week of listening to George upon the subject she decided to broach her concerns.

  “But, George, why are you so determined to join the military all of a sudden? I know it has not been something to which you have ever aspired; it is all so strange, this sudden focus on an occupation for which you have no affinity. Indeed, you were quite disparaging about soldiers and their routines when we were in Ramsgate. You had no desire to join their ranks then, did you?”

  Wickham smiled ruefully at her concern. “Julia! You, of all people, must have guessed the truth of the matter by now. What would you have me do, pray? Once again I find myself with nothing left: no lodgings; no money save what I will use for my outfitting. I have no employment nor the prospect of finding anything suitable. I am assured by Denny that life in the Militia will not be arduous; we shall have very little to do and much of our time will be in assuring the local inhabitants of our good intentions and abilities to protect and uphold the ways of the British from the French.

  “In one move I shall assure myself of lodgings, food, companionship, and a certain respect befitting a military gentleman. No one shall know me: I will be merely Mr. George Wickham, Gentleman Volunteer, nobly offering his time and efforts for the good of his country. People will look up to me, Julia. They will consider me a well-connected and respectable gentleman, not the person so notorious in Cambridge and London. It is a new start for me, Julia, just as you wished. You have your method of improvement, and now I have found mine. Please wish me well, my dear, rather than questioning my motives or abilities.”

  Julia, although shocked at his revelations, rushed to assure him of her support. “Of course I wish you well, George. If this is how you see your future security, then you must take every chance to make it come about. But I fear it does not bode well for our
relationship, with you far away in the country, and I here in London. We shall not meet, perhaps, for many months. Oh! I had not thought that you would inflict such a separation upon us again, George. What am I to do whilst you are living the life of a Gentleman Volunteer, pray? You will be enjoying local amusements and I shall be left here, quite alone.”

  George took her hands in his and held them against his chest. “Julia! My dear! The military life requires that a wife understand her husband’s prime affiliation is with his regiment; what it does governs his entire life and there is an end to it. You are safe and well here in London, are not you? You are happy with your choice of profession and business, are not you? Well, now I feel the same way about my chosen profession, and, even though it will force us to be apart, much as it will pain me, it is a very good opportunity and I cannot ignore it. Denny has assured me that, after he has put in a good word or two with Colonel Forster about me and my connections it will be as good as done. I merely await his letter informing me that everything has been resolved and when I am to meet up with the Regiment.”

  Julia leant her head against his chest and realised that he was, finally, in earnest. He would leave; he would be gone for many months, if not the entire Winter, and he was happy about the prospect of finally becoming useful and gainfully employed. There was nothing she could do, or wanted to do, to change his mind and she valiantly tried to see the benefits for him.

  “Of course you must do everything necessary to carve out a career for yourself, George, and I wish you well in your endeavours. I shall not repine for the loss of your company, only rejoice in your improved situation. But, as I am sure you are aware, life as an officer can be as treacherous as any that you have lived so far. You still cannot afford to socialise and gamble with the other gentlemen in your Regiment; they will all be true gentlemen, just as they are in the gaming clubs, with quantities of income behind them. You, on the other hand, are still only George Wickham, son of Mr. Darcy’s steward, with none of those privileges. You must take great care to avoid temptation, my dear; it will be all around you, of that I have no doubt.”