Wickham's Wife

by C. J. Hill

Upon entering the Assembly Rooms, Lydia anxiously scanned the crowd for Wickham - there he was! - standing as usual with his back to the dancing and talking with his fellow officers. Her heart was in her mouth as she quickly made her way towards him, smiling distractedly at her other friends and admirers while brushing off their greetings and enquiries with a demure, “Indeed! Yes, yes, I shall return to you soon!”

  As she approached the resolutely-turned back she felt her courage falter a little, wondering just how she would manage to gain and keep his attention, knowing how cold and distant he could become - especially with her. Fortunately her eyes were caught by Denny, who was directly opposite Wickham, and he smiled, interrupting their conversation for her admittance.

  “Miss Lydia! We are honoured to have your company this evening, are not we, Wickham?”

  Wickham turned around and met her smile.

  “Ah! Miss Bennet. How do you do? Are not your usual admirers in attendance this evening that we are so singled out and granted the benefit of your company?”

  Lydia faltered in the face of such cool disinterest.

  “Oh! Of course they are all here, Wickham!” she stammered brightly, “Do not you see your own officers amongst that group over there? I shall return to them directly, I assure you, but I merely thought to wish you a good evening and enquire after your health; I have not seen you very often since we have been in Brighton.”

  “I am very well, thank you, Miss Bennet. Brighton keeps us all very busy indeed; it is only in the past week we have managed to attend any kind of entertainments.”

  “Well: general entertainments, eh, Wickham?” laughed Denny. “There are other entertainments which have also taken up much of our time but, alas, are no longer an option!”

  Lydia, relieved at the change of tone, felt emboldened to enquire further.

  “And what is it that you have all been doing so surreptitiously, out of the general company?” she laughed. “I hear that Mrs. Bracecourt’s is a very difficult place to gain an invitation.”

  Both gentlemen looked at her enquiringly. Denny broke the silence.

  “And exactly what have you heard about Mrs. Bracecourt’s, may I ask? It is certainly not somewhere that a young lady should be hearing about, Miss Lydia.”

  Under Wickham’s disapproving gaze her bravado entirely vanished and it was to her great relief that Pratt approached the group, quietly and with purpose, but with an obvious reluctance to interfere with his superior officers. He bowed in greeting and then addressed her quietly.

  “Miss Bennet! You are missed by your friends; they beg me to ask you to return to them as soon as you are free.”

  “Oh, of course! Tell them I shall attend directly! I am engaged with Mr. Wickham and Mr. Denny at present, as you can see.”

  “Do not let us detain you any longer, Miss Bennet,” Wickham said, as he bowed in her direction and calmly resumed his conversation with Denny. Confused, Lydia curtsied, feeling her embarrassment rise in her cheeks, and taking Pratt’s arm as nonchalantly as she could, allowed herself to be escorted back to the other side of the room where her friends were waiting.

  “That was uncalled for, Wickham!” laughed Denny as he watched Lydia’s retreat. “A most ungentlemanly dismissal! And you had hardly spoken ten words to her.”

  “She will recover soon enough I have no doubt, Denny. Miss Lydia Bennet must seek admiration where it is to be found and not try to force those who have no interest in her to pretend otherwise. She is too fond of gossip and trying to be older than her years. She will suffer the consequences, Denny, mark my words.”

  The evening progressed with its usual noise and excitement, the candles burnt down and were replaced; the onlookers conversed with varying degrees of animation; the dancers grew ever more boisterous, flushed with exercise and alcohol; and the musicians finally were allowed their break while supper was being served.

  Lydia, who had danced every dance as was her habit, even though she still felt the sting of Wickham’s dismissal, flung herself into the nearest chaise and begged any of her friends to, please, bring her a plate and another glass of punch; she could not possibly walk to the tables herself! Two of the officers hurried off to do her bidding, leaving her in the company of several others including Pratt, who, as always, remained by her side. She laid her head back groaning with exhaustion and laughing at how ill she had managed the last dance; her legs had struggled to carry her through it!

  She felt the heat of the room intensely and gradually began to feel rather worse than that: a faintness, a dizziness was overcoming her; the room was quite spinning. She looked about and asked her faithful Pratt to escort her from the room into the cooler air in the hallway as he had so many times before. Pratt agreed with alacrity and tucking her hand under his elbow and easing his other hand around her waist he escorted her with great ceremony from the room, to the unveiled interest of all who cared to notice.

  Wickham noticed.

  He noticed the proprietorial air of the young soldier and the manner of his assistance to Lydia and it awoke alarm bells within him. How often had he himself escorted a vulnerable young woman from a crowded room under the guise of assisting her to some air? And how many times had he watched it happen this week between Lydia and Pratt? It was becoming scandalous!

  He tussled with his conscience: Lydia Bennet was not his concern. She was under the chaperonage of the Colonel – surely he should be noticing her compromising behaviour and rescuing her? But the Colonel was nowhere to be seen; neither was Mrs. Forster. He looked about for Denny or Carter; if they were available he would send them, but they were across the room and busy with friends.

  Without further delay, Wickham made his way through the throng and followed the path that Lydia and Pratt had taken, looking in each alcove as he went. Many couples were engaged in taking the evening air from the windows which had been flung open, but of Lydia there was no sign. He took the stairs three at a time and hurried out into the street, looking left to right; it was so busy, almost busier than during the day, but still he could not see any that answered his search.

  Considering, Wickham recalled a path that led down to the sea-front – perhaps they would have gone there to be entirely alone! Surely not! But consulting his own mores of years ago, he knew that, given a similar opportunity, he would have certainly enticed a willing, young girl away from the throng along such a path! And with dread in his heart, sincerely hoping that Pratt did not share a similar licentiousness, he set off in that direction.

  When he saw them in the distance, he could see that his fears were entirely founded in fact. Lydia and Pratt, huddled close together on a seat, were clearly not looking at the view and were oblivious to the few other couples entertaining themselves in a similar manner, as they were to his arrival.

  He strode up to them, and exclaimed:

  “Miss Bennet! Allow me to accompany you back to the Assembly Rooms immediately. You cannot be thinking properly to be so far away from your friends and in the company of a person so wholly unconnected to you and unconcerned with your safety.”

  Pratt leapt to his feet as Lydia rearranged her hair and gathered her wrap around her shoulders from where it had slipped.

  “This is not what you think! Miss Lydia was feeling unwell, Wickham, dizzy and quite faint. She wanted relief, some cooling air, and asked me to bring her to this spot away from everyone and the noise and confusion at the Inn. I assure you, sir, that nothing has happened that could be considered untoward.”

  Wickham regarded him in the moonlight with a faint sneer as he held out his hand to Lydia.

  “I hope nothing untoward has happened, Pratt, and be very certain that it never does or you will have me to answer for it. Come, Lydia, if you are recovered sufficiently. We will walk slowly back to the Assembly Rooms and advise the Colonel that you need to return to your lodgings.” Then seeing that Pratt clearly intended accompanying them, continued, “And you, Pratt, run ahead and alert the Colonel. Tell him we will be along as soo
n as we can - and do not say where you have been - merely that Miss Lydia is unwell.”

  Pratt dithered for only a moment, his intentions and usefulness both being brought into question by Wickham’s high-handed manner, but one glace at Wickham’s face was enough to convince him that argument was futile and he docilely set off at high speed on his errand.

  “Oh, Wickham! How kind of you to rescue me. Not that Pratt was in any way causing me concern, you know, but I do feel really quite unwell, that is not a lie; quite nauseous; quite unlike myself. I was having such a good time, too. I can hardly stand by myself – let me lean upon you as we walk, Wickham.”

  Wickham silently offered her his arm, which she clutched as if at a lifeline and rested her head upon his coat sleeve. They walked a little distance in this manner before he demanded:

  “What were you thinking Lydia? To leave the rooms, alone, with a man, and agree to a walk at such a distance in the dark? It must be obvious even to you how disgraceful such an outing is; how it will be viewed by any others who noticed you leave on Pratt’s arm and disappear into the night?”

  “Ohh! Do not growl at me, Wickham. I felt ill. Pratt brought me out into the hall and I still felt ill, so he suggested getting closer to the sea air, and I agreed. He has been very considerate, Wickham, and you came and accused him of dark deeds of which I am sure he had no intention. He admires me; he finds me amusing. Why do not you admire me or find me amusing, Wickham? You are too cruel you know. I admire you, and find you amusing, and charming, and handsome, and elegant, but you refuse to return my feelings even a little bit. Ohh…I must sit again; please, Wickham, sit with me for a while until I feel better.”

  Reluctantly he did as she asked; he could not determine just how ill she actually was but he suspected the cause of it; she would not escape his anger by claiming some mysterious ailment and an affection for him.

  “I believe you are drunk, Lydia. Quite - disgracefully - drunk! That is the only matter with you and I shall ascribe the reasons for your sickness and this inappropriate outburst of affection for me to it. How many glasses of punch have you had this evening? You must learn to moderate your behaviour, Lydia, before you are unable to ward off the universal contempt that your rage for admiration excites in every sensible person who observes you. Every night this week I have watched you flirt outrageously with any soldier you could; you have acted loudly, drunk excessively; everybody is talking of it, of that you can be assured. It must stop, Lydia, or I shall advise the Colonel to send you home out of harm’s way.”

  Lydia was now feeling much worse than she had all evening and could only focus on some of Wickham’s words; the rest of her concentration was fully focused upon controlling her nausea. But those words she did hear gave her great joy, or would do as soon as she could attend to them. His concern for her was evident! His anger merely covering up deep-seated feelings of jealousy and desire! Oh! How she wished her head would clear and her stomach stop churning so she could make more of this moment so unexpectedly offered to her. Moonlight, Wickham, and solitude all in one neat package: it would all be as she had planned!

  But she said nothing, not trusting her body to comply with the smallest order, and, after fifteen minutes of sitting while Wickham paced the spot before the bench waiting for some sign of her recovery, she raised her head and weakly requested to continue their walk back to the Inn.

  Unfortunately, movement merely served to increase her discomfort and their walk was slowed even further upon reaching the steady incline of the path. Lydia swayed dramatically, and with an exasperated movement, Wickham swept her up into his arms and carried her the rest of the way, knowing as he did so that here was yet more scandal being heaped upon her. For good effect, and as explanation to all who cared to know, he carried her right up to the doors of the Inn where the Colonel and Harriet were waiting anxiously with Pratt. They all gasped when they saw the dramatic figure appearing before them in the lamplight.

  “Colonel,” gasped Wickham, without releasing his hold upon Lydia, “please give me leave to return Miss Bennet to your house immediately, and I would ask Mrs. Forster to accompany us. Miss Bennet is unwell, suffering from dizziness and weakness which, I believe, will only be relieved when she is safely at home and resting comfortably.”

  To this the Colonel immediately assented and the foursome hurried to the house. Once he had deposited Lydia upon the first available chaise, Wickham bowed to the Colonel and Mrs. Forster, and left. Colonel Forster glanced at his wife and then at Lydia, decided that there was nothing he could offer in the situation, and left also.

  “Well, well, well, my dear! What have you been up to this evening? Carried home by none other than the man of your dreams! Tell all, Lydia! It would seem I have missed a vital event this evening, although I am not sure how it is possible. I was there, at the same Assembly as were you, observing all that transpired and yet, beneath my very nose, you manage to slip away with Wickham and reappear in his arms! How romantic! His opinion of you must have improved considerably this evening.”

  Lydia groaned and then raising herself slightly upon one elbow asked wretchedly, “Is he gone?”

  Upon being assured of the fact she continued.

  “Please do not ask, Harriet! All I wish for is a basin, and a powder to ease my head and stomach. I will rest here tonight; I do not have the energy to climb the stairs and undress. Do not scold me; I simply cannot endure it, Harriet.”

  But climb those stairs she certainly had to: Mrs. Forster, quickly understanding the actual nature of Lydia’s condition, would not contemplate the notion of her friend lying in full evening dress on a chaise downstairs for the servants to find in the morning. It was insupportable! And, so, Lydia was pulled, groaning and feebly resisting, up those stairs and thrust unceremoniously upon her bed where she promptly fell deeply asleep.

  Chapter 30

  The following day Lydia was most gratified to learn that not only had Pratt called to enquire about her health, which was entirely to be expected, but also Denny and Wickham! Harriet, naturally, had refused to allow a visit of even the shortest kind, indicating that Lydia’s health, although much improved, was not yet robust enough to entertain. However, that gratification lasted only until she raised her head, causing severe pain to course through her temples and she sank once again back against the pillows with a sigh.

  “Ohhh! I do feel quite ill this morning, Harriet. Although not as much as last night, it is true. Now my head thumps rather than spins; it is all rather unpleasant, the after-effects of a night’s revels.”

  “I am only surprised that this is the first time you have experienced the consequences, Lydia!” laughed her friend. “But it had the desired effect after all: Mr. Wickham certainly noticed you, rescued you, carried you home, and called to enquire after you the next morning. I would say that is a very successful evening’s work, with or without the accompanying illnesses. But why were you down at the sea-front with Pratt, in the dark, alone? Surely you must have been aware of the impropriety of it all?”

  “Oh, la, Harriet! Pratt is a boy! A very nice looking boy, I am sure you would agree, and with money enough to make him interesting; and he certainly likes me – he would do anything for me, I am sure. He took a chance being alone with me last night and paid the price for it as the recipient of Wickham’s accusations. But, Harriet, those accusations, and Wickham’s anger upon finding us alone both cause me to hope that he has some feelings for me. Do not you think so? Unfortunately for Pratt, he is nothing when measured against Wickham. I am sure he would never have been able to carry me up the hill and all the way home. Wickham managed it without even pausing for breath.”

  “That must have taken a very great strength indeed!” laughed Harriet. “Your very own Hercules!”

  “Yes! No! Not a very great strength, Harriet, but he is very strong. I felt so secure in his arms – I only wish that I had been able to enjoy the experience more as it was happening. I fear I might have said one or two things that I wou
ld prefer I had not and which might cause him some discomfort, but that cannot be helped now. I must ensure he stays interested in my welfare, although I hope I do not have to perform more and more outrageously to keep his attention, or I shall shock even myself very soon.

  “Now, I must try to get up and make myself presentable. If Wickham should return again to enquire, you may show him in and I shall apologise profusely for my disgraceful behaviour and promise never to behave in such a manner again if he will only notice me when I am being good. I shall make him see that it is all his fault – his lack of attention forced me to do it - how would that do?”

  “I would not advise such a plan, Lydia. And I would not advise jeopardising your reputation further in the pursuit of a man. Allow things to unfold as they are meant to, for goodness’ sake! If Wickham is meant for you, and you for him, then it will eventuate without any interference.

  “I will leave you to get dressed; I will see you downstairs, my dear.”

  After being forced to accompany Denny to the Colonel’s house to enquire after Lydia, Wickham thought no more about her than the occasional reminder his arm muscles gave him when he lifted something or other. While not unfit, he certainly was not used to carrying a dead-weight for a mile or more.

  He was glad he had intervened before anything had happened between Pratt and Lydia, but more than that did not occur to him; that she was considering him her personal ‘Hercules’ would have, had he known of it, caused him to rather wish he had left her to her fate. He had, however, taken it upon himself to warn Pratt the next morning of the impropriety of the previous evening, no matter how innocent its beginnings, and advise him to take care when dealing with the likes of Miss Bennet. She was not a girl with whom one would wish to become too fond or entangled.

  Consequently, to her great disappointment, Lydia had no more visitors that day, or the next, and by the beginning of the third day announced herself quite recovered and ready to seek out her usual friends and become acquainted with the latest gossip she had missed. She and Harriet proceeded along the sea-front to their favourite coffee shop where they found their acquaintances already engaged with the news of the previous night: apparently an engagement had been announced between two very unlikely persons and everybody had an opinion on it.