by C. J. Hill
Mrs. King regarded her daughter for a moment and then nodded determinedly.
"Then we shall continue as we have been; we shall ask Mr. Wickham to accompany us tonight and we shall try harder to learn more of him. That is the way of it. And once we are satisfied, then will you consider him, my dear? You could do much worse, I believe: no one person is perfect, you know, and you must take the bad with the good; let us hope that there is more good to be learnt than bad with regards to Mr. Wickham."
Chapter 21
The evening passed tolerably well, if the fact that Mrs. King talked into the silence sustained by the two other members of her party can be said to be a success. Miss King felt all the embarrassment of the situation in which she found herself, and Wickham, understanding her feelings, endeavoured not to increase her discomfort. Fortunately, there were many guests at Lucas Lodge and the musical entertainment was delightful which, for most of the evening, precluded any lengthy conversations, restricting comments between them to restrained acknowledgments of a performer's skill and grace. Wickham did not press his point raised earlier that day for Miss King to play, and she did not claim a place in the programme; their cordiality was chilly and Wickham began to question his invitation as the ladies' escort. All became much clearer when supper was announced and Mrs. King took his arm in a most friendly manner.
"Come, Mr. Wickham. Sit with me while we take some refreshment. How delightful everything is tonight. Lucas Lodge certainly offers superior entertainment, do not they? Lady Lucas was bemoaning to me the loss of her eldest daughter who used to run everything in the household, as I understand, but now the younger daughter has begun to learn those skills. If this evening is even partly due to her offices, then I must congratulate her upon her arrangements. I am sure, Mr. Wickham, that you must have no idea of the trouble involved in presenting a party of this scale, but, you may rest assured, my Mary is quite able to manage anything with the greatest of ease. She is a wonderful hostess; she has assisted me for many years now. I do not know what I should have done without her help and clever little ideas. She quite imagines how everything will be and carries it out perfectly."
Wickham smiled ruefully as he helped Mrs. King to a glass of punch before selecting from a variety of food from the table where they sat.
"I assure you I do not need to be assured of Miss King's abilities; I have no doubt that anything she does is done with absolute elegance and efficiency. I assured her of these opinions myself only this afternoon while you were suffering from your headache, but she did not approve of me mentioning them. It seems we are to be friends only, even though I wish to be more than that, most fervently." He waited while Mrs. King nodded firmly as she swallowed her mouthful.
"But, Mr. Wickham, you must not give up so easily! Faint heart, as I am sure you know, never won fair lady. It is nothing other than a slight confusion in her mind; a surprise at your sudden attentions, perhaps a fear she does not know you well enough, and that your intentions towards her are not serious. For myself, I have observed your growing attachment to her in the past few weeks and approve your forbearance in mentioning it until today. There are not many young men who would show such restraint in matters of the heart.
"But here is what I propose, Mr. Wickham. You must instruct me about your past: some good points, some bad, and then I shall pass on that information to my daughter who will weigh up your merits, and we shall see what eventuates."
Wickham heard all of this with astonishment.
"Pray, tell me, madam," he enquired, "why it is that you feel that I am the person to most make your daughter happy upon so short an acquaintance? Perhaps Miss King is quite correct in her reservations; you also know very little about me, and have no way of discerning if what I do impart about my past is true. I could tell you that I am, and always have been, a most temperate fellow; that my connection with the Darcy family is greater than it is; and that I have never caused any lady a moment's concern. What can you say as to the truth of those statements, madam?"
Mrs. King chuckled quietly. "Ah! As well you know, Mr. Wickham, nobody can live in a small village like Meryton without causing the gossips' tongues to wag. Everybody is discussed and judged, everybody, including you and me. I have heard rumours that you have not always been, as you say, 'temperate'; that you have, in the past, enjoyed a game of cards and drinking rather too much; and that your connection with the Darcy family is tenuous at best. I do not have to believe anything you chose to tell me because I can get my information elsewhere should I want it.
"But nothing I have heard concerns me untowardly; young men often get into trouble with money and drinking when first they are given their freedom, but most soon realise there is more to life than those passing pleasures, as you appear to have done. From my own observations, I have not once seen you gamble or drink to excess; anyone who can restrain themselves from such pleasure willingly, and for an extended period of time, cannot be altogether a lost cause. More importantly, your manner and attentiveness to my daughter speaks volumes about your inner character, and it is for these reasons alone that I would condone the match if my daughter can be persuaded. It is my belief that you would make a happily married woman of her, and I would hope she could ensure your happiness also."
Wickham's face burned at the kind words being spoken; his past brushed over as light-hearted youthful behaviour, something he had overcome and was now ready to cast aside for a future of marriage and security. How wonderful it would indeed be, if it were true.
He excused himself from the table to allow Mrs. King to gossip with her friends. "I shall take your advice and good opinion of me to heart, madam. If Miss King will allow it, I shall continue my attentions towards her in the hope she will soon share your opinion of me. Please excuse me for a while, madam, I must circulate a little; Colonel Forster waves me over."
Weaving his way through the throng in the dining room, he managed to access a position alongside Colonel Forster and his wife: the topic of conversation was their recent wedding and honeymoon, and their intentions for the future. Colonel Forster was asked if, now he was a married man, he would be resigning his commission in the Militia.
"Oh, I do not think being a married man will force such a dramatic change in lifestyle. Mrs. Forster has her friends to keep her company when I am busy with the men; in fact she insists that we must begin entertaining as soon as it can be arranged. So, you see, being married to a military man does not inhibit her enjoyment of life at all."
Harriet smiled, "You are quite right, my dear. You must have your interests and I must have mine. Although I do look forward to our return to Brighton, where we were so recently, and where I shall be mistress of my own house."
Wickham interjected: "Brighton, you say? I did not know you had a property there, sir? That will be most convenient for you when the Militia removes at the end of the Winter."
Colonel Forster hesitated. "Well, there is nothing to say that our Summer quarters shall be in Brighton again, although I would much prefer it, of course. We must wait for the War Office to send its instructions as usual. But I am glad, Wickham, that you have managed to tear yourself away from the bewitching Miss King for a while this evening. Or perhaps I should say, her mother? I notice a certain coolness between you and the daughter that does not bode well."
"Yes, Mr. Wickham. Why are you so suddenly ignoring Miss King and spending the entire evening with her mother? She looks most forlorn sitting over there with her friend." Lydia Bennet enquired as she joined the circle. "I do not think she will continue to like you very much if you insist on remaining here with us for much longer, either."
Wickham summoned every ounce of his good humour and responded as lightly as he could.
"Miss King is very well where she is; she is allowed her own interests and friends. To be constantly attached to me can only provide entertainment of the dullest kind and I do not blame her for seeking more interesting friends this evening. I have always been on the best of terms with her mother
and take a great interest in that lady’s comfort and enjoyment."
"Ohh! Well! How kind you must be, Wickham, to be more solicitous to the mother than to her daughter. I should not think well of you if you spent all the evening by my mother and ignored me - why should I? Come! Let us make a set for dancing now the performances are ended: I am mad for a dance!"
And Wickham, unable to deny her, found himself whisked away by the girl he valiantly had made every attempt to ignore and rebuff whenever they were in the same room but tonight, it would seem, was renewing her attentions to him due to his apparent disinterest in Miss King. Her wish for a dance was granted, and as Lydia organised the couples and her sister, Mary, to play the piano, he looked anxiously about him to see what the effect was upon Miss King.
Miss King was nowhere to be seen.
Discouraged, Wickham’s eyes searched for Mrs. King; to no avail.
As he progressed through the dance, he noticed neither lady in the room, nor could he catch a glimpse of them in the dining room. He smiled at Miss Elizabeth Bennet as he passed her, and merely received a friendly nod in return with no hint of her former feelings having been hurt. As soon as the dance ended, he excused himself, amid much loud protesting from Lydia, and walked about trying to find the missing ladies. Denny approached him, clapping him on the shoulder.
"Relax, man! There is no good looking; they are gone already. Miss King went to fetch her mother, a quick discussion ensued, some of which must have pertained to you, judging by the looks cast in your direction, then they collected their wraps and accepted Sir William's offer of a ride home in the carriage, unaccompanied as they were. You are slipping, my friend. Bringing two ladies to a party and losing both shows outstanding carelessness!”
Angrily, Wickham shrugged off his friend's hand and excused himself from the party, relieved to breathe in the cold night air out of the heat and noise. He was filled with anger at Lydia Bennet; why could not that girl stay away from him? He did nothing to encourage her; he did not find her slightly attractive with her noise and energy, but she would keep bothering him. And now her thoughtless actions had insulted Miss King and perhaps jeopardised even further her opinion of him. It was much too late to call and explain, or to beg forgiveness for abandoning her all evening, so he returned to his lodgings in a most sombre frame of mind.
It was too much, really it was and he wished, were the subject not of the nature that it was, that he could speak about it with Julia. She would know what to do and tell him the best method of detaching Lydia from her purpose which, clearly, was to engage him for her own ends. But, of course, discussing anything with Julia was impossible now; her silence had been continuous since her letter and he did not expect to hear from her any time soon. He missed her terribly and wondered, not for the first time that day, how she was faring.
I must make amends with Miss King. was his first thought upon waking the next morning. He must make excuse for his behaviour and beg her forgiveness. He must attempt to explain as truthfully as possible those parts of his past life that he could, and gloss over those which had very little value for the persona he wished to present to his future wife. Her sympathy concerning his dealings with Darcy had been moderately promising, and he considered further embellishing his suffering at that person's hands to increase her compassion. His current financial situation, however, would not be a topic to arouse her sympathy, and if she ever discovered it he must prepare some excuse as to the reason for it. His demeanour, therefore, as he entered the drawing room of the King's lodgings, was one of utter guilelessness; his concern for the early departure of his friends effusively genuine; the charm showered upon both ladies enough to mend a rift much greater than that which he had caused.
"Mr. Wickham! How kind of you to call, and so concerned for our welfare. We are just as we always are, as you see. Mary rather felt the heat last night - it was so crowded at the Lodge - and she preferred to come straight home without troubling you when you were enjoying yourself dancing with your friend. Miss Lydia appears to be in possession of a great deal of energy."
Wickham laughed in agreement and relief. "I believe that to be an understatement, madam! Not only does she have a great deal of energy but she seems never to run out of it, nor know how best to control it. She refuses to countenance any laziness in her partners and insists that they participate as much as she, even though they might not be as lively. But she is very young, and young girls tend to be impetuous and act upon their instincts. She means nothing by it, I assure you; I do hope that you were not put out by her behaviour, Miss King?"
"Oh, certainly not, Mr. Wickham. It would take rather more than a person of Lydia Bennet's exuberance to discompose me. No, it was just as Mamma said; I was uncomfortably warm and did not wish to remain any longer. Sir William was most considerate and made his carriage immediately available; we had a very comfortable ride home and an early end to our evening, at no inconvenience to you."
"But I assure you, Miss King, I would much rather have accompanied you home than stay at the party, if that was your wish. You only had to say the word and I would have broken off any dance or conversation without regret."
"You are very kind, sir, but there was no need for such a sacrifice. I was not at all put out."
"Mr. Wickham!" broke in Mrs. King, "Further to our conversation last night, I believe you wished to set our minds at rest regarding your history, sir; we would be most interested to hear it now, if it is not inconvenient." Mrs. King nodded encouragingly at Wickham as she finished speaking: Mary looked away in mortification.
Wickham blushed slightly and, caught slightly off-guard, fumbled for which narrative to present first.
"I would indeed wish for nothing more than to set your and Miss King's mind at rest as to my history, present circumstances, and future intentions. I believe you are both well aware of my upbringing on the Pemberley Estate and the intention of the late Mr. Darcy that I should be given a valuable living when it became available?"
The ladies nodded; they both had heard the story, not only from him but also from several of their acquaintance; it had been well-discussed.
"Well, naturally, after completing my studies in the expectation that such a living was to come to me, upon being refused it, I found myself in rather difficult circumstances. I realised immediately that there was no other option but to seek my own fortune elsewhere. On the small amount given me by the current Mr. Darcy, and the even smaller annuity bequeathed to me by the late Mr. Darcy, I found I could almost exist if I lived prudently. But what I wished, most desperately, was to increase my security through business of some sort as many men have done; through studying the law, perhaps."
"Ah, yes, Mr. Wickham, we know how it is to have to rely upon a limited income: until recent events, Mary and I were similarly situated. But, please, do carry on with your most interesting account."
Wickham cleared his throat and continued. "For a while I believed I had found a line of work in which I could be successful, but it was not to be; business and the law proved to be a most unprofitable study, and I was once again at the mercy of the world and my limited income. It was then, with the help of some friends, that I applied to Colonel Forster for a place in his corps as a Gentleman Volunteer, the outlay for which I could afford, and where I could at least do some good for my country at the same time as being honourably employed.
"I confess that I do not have a great deal to my name, but what I do have is mine and earnt respectably. This, then, ladies, is a truthful account of my history thus far and my present circumstances; I would implore you not to judge me too harshly for it."
Mary King lifted her eyes to his. "It is not for any person to judge another for the manner in which their life has evolved, Mr. Wickham. It seems from your account that you have had struggles against which you have fought valiantly. No one can fault you for that."
"I am grateful for your compassion, Miss King. I am glad to have informed you of the truth of the situation; I would not, for the w
orld, have you think ill of me, or suspect my intentions towards you are deceitful."
"Well, I should not think that anyone can fault you for your circumstances in life, especially as you are working so determinedly to change them. But we have heard the recent gossip in the town regarding some of your fellow soldiers, Mr. Wickham, who have not behaved so admirably; we even heard that one of the men has been flogged for insubordination and other unmentionable behaviour. How shocking! Is there much truth to the rumours?" Mrs. King was most interested to glean some interesting gossip now Wickham had had his chance to impress her daughter with his openness and innocence.
Wickham smiled, "No, indeed, not at all, madam. It is perhaps more surprising that so few men need to be disciplined when you think that they are merely waiting in the wings while great battles are being fought without them. There is nothing I would like so well as to be called into the midst of it all; to fight for our country and protect our way of life from the French. But we must be patient, and, unfortunately for some, it is a lesson that seems difficult to learn, so they vent their frustrations through excess and impertinence."
"How noble!" Miss King was quite taken with his fearlessness. "What a noble thing to wish for, to go into battle without regard for your own safety or comfort. It is certainly something of which to be proud, Mr. Wickham."
"It is what all men wish for, Miss King, not only me; the chance to fight and to prove ourselves against great resistance would be the culmination of our training and preparation. But, it seems, that at least for now, we must remain upon the green grass of home and be ready to protect our women and children from harm if that time should ever come. It does not have quite the same heroic actions, but it is honourable just the same."
