by P. O. Dixon
“I rather suspected the history between those two gentlemen was marred with contentiousness when we were all in London preparing for the wedding that Lydia is so fond of boasting of. I know none of the particulars, nor would I ever wish to, for it can hardly be any of my concern, but I will tell you this. If all that Darcy endured in seeing the Wickham affair settled did not diminish his ardent esteem for you, then nothing on this earth ever will.”
Chapter 3
Lydia, Georgiana, Mary, and Kitty were walking about the lanes when Lydia impatiently seized Georgiana’s arm. “Come, Georgiana, let us walk ahead of the others for I should like my fair share of your attention.”
Despite feeling the young woman’s rudeness toward the others, Georgiana silently consented. When they were a few paces ahead of their party, Lydia said, “My sisters, Mary and Kitty, had the pleasure of making your acquaintance at Lizzy’s wedding. I should have liked to have been there, and I would have been there too had Lizzy prevailed upon Darcy to make the proper arrangements, which I am certain he would have done given everything else he did for me and my dear Wickham.”
“I beg your pardon,” cried Georgiana.
“Oh, I should not have said a word, for that is meant to be a great secret. Pray forget I said anything.”
Georgiana’s countenance clouded a bit, but she said nothing.
Lydia said, “It is a fine morning for a walk, is it not?”
“Indeed, it is.”
“I always enjoyed walking with my sisters when we were all at Longbourn. Hardly a day went by, weather permitting, that we did not venture to Meryton. Do you ever walk to Lambton?”
“I am afraid I do not. Even if I wished it, my brother would never hear of such a thing.”
“I suppose it is very far when I am forced to think of it. Meryton is a very easy distance from my father’s estate. And, as I said, my sisters and I so enjoyed walking there—Lizzy especially, for she has always been an excellent walker. Did you know that on one of our walks to Meryton we had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Wickham for the first time?”
Georgiana’s voice cracked a little. “I did not.”
“Indeed. How fortunate we thought ourselves at the time, although I am forced to confess that he only noticed Lizzy and she likewise took note of him. He was her favorite beau for the longest time, but then a Miss Mary King —who went away to Liverpool once she inherited a small fortune —stole him away from Lizzy. That freckled thing—what Wickham admired about her I can scarcely imagine. However, as I said, she went away, which delighted all the other ladies in Meryton exceedingly and no one more than me, for I became the happy woman toward whom he lavished all his adoration from then on, and the rest, as they say, is history.” Lydia shrugged. “I say ‘as they say’ although, for the life of me, I have not a clue who they are.”
Georgiana did not utter anything in reply. Her mind was frantically engaged in thought on the implications of Lydia’s speech. She wondered if her brother knew of Elizabeth’s early fondness for George Wickham. If perchance he did then how did he endure it?
Lydia tugged at Georgiana’s sleeve to reclaim her attention. “Why does your brother not allow my Wickham to visit Pemberley? We are all family are we not?”
“No doubt my brother has what he supposes is a valid reason.”
“I’ll tell you his reason. It is because Darcy is so very mean. Why, you would think he would welcome both of us with open arms given that he paid for my own wedding and Wickham’s commission.” Lydia slapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh,” she cried, “there I go again telling the world what is meant to be a secret, but I trust I may depend on you not to tell another living soul, and I shall endeavor to do the same.”
“You may depend on it,” Georgiana said tentatively, not entirely convinced she would keep her word. Why would my brother do such a thing?
“Well, as I was saying, not only is Darcy mean-spirited when it comes to my Wickham, I fear he is exceedingly jealous, for everyone liked my Wickham best when we made his acquaintance in Hertfordshire and not a single one of us could tolerate Darcy—not even Lizzy.” Lydia huffed. “La! Especially not Lizzy!” she exclaimed. “She hated him the most. Of course, one would never know that now. The two of them forgave each other. Oh, if only they were half as magnanimous where my darling Wickham is concerned.”
Georgiana pursed her lips in puzzlement. “I find it hard to believe that my brother and Elizabeth were ever at odds.”
Lydia’s mouth flew open. “You need not take my word for it,” she said in the face of Georgiana’s skepticism. “Ask Mary for she never lies. She always tells the truth.” The young ladies turned to see what had become of the others. Kitty walked along with her arms crossed and her expression aggrieved. Mary trailed behind without regard to her surroundings with her head buried in a book.
“Oh, Mary!” Lydia cried. “Why are you reading on such a perfect day as this and at Pemberley of all places?”
Mary looked up at her sister inquisitively.
“Hurry and join us, for I want you to tell Georgiana how Darcy and Lizzy really felt about each other when they first met.”
Mary adjusted her spectacles. “What God has joined together, let no man put asunder.”
“La! Firstly, I am not a man, and secondly, I am not putting anything asunder. I speak nothing but the truth.”
“Lydia!” Mary chastised. She and her youngest sister were as different as night and day. While the latter took pleasure in being the center of attention, the former preferred living in the shadows. Not only did she prefer it, she depended on it. The occasional comparison between her sisters’ beauty and her own were becoming rather less mortifying with each passing day. She would not have traded places with any one of them. Her sisters might have suffered the greater part of their lives in fear of spinsterhood, but not Mary. Alas, with such a mother as Mrs. Bennet, whose business in life it was to see all her daughters well settled, Mary knew enough to keep her rather unconventional sentiments to herself.
Lydia hissed. “Oh, pay no attention to Mary. I am sure she means well, but everyone knows she is no fun. She would rather read a silly book than take notice of what is really important. Believe me when I say that everyone who knows anything about how your brother and my sister felt about each other during the earliest days of their acquaintance will tell you that he declared her barely tolerable and she proclaimed him the most arrogant and disdainful creature on Earth. Why, you can imagine how shocked I was when I learned that they were to be married and on the heels of my own wedding to my dear Wickham, which tells me that Lizzy simply could not bear the thought of having a younger sister married when she was on the verge of becoming an old spinster.
“I told her that I would be happy to help her and all my sisters find husbands, but she said she did not like my way of finding a husband. Although I am confident she would have been just as pleased with someone I picked out for her—” she paused to catch her breath “—except he would not have been nearly so rich as Darcy.”
Lydia pressed her fingers to her lips. “La! I have a brilliant idea. What say we all go to Lambton tomorrow? It has been far too long since I had a new frock and I really must have something stunning to wear to the dinner party. Although, I would much rather my sister gave a ball. Oh! How I wish my Wickham were welcome at Pemberley for he would surely wear his red coat—he is ever so dashing in his red coat. Oh, but what am I saying? My Wickham could be dressed in a barrel and it would not make him one jot less handsome.”
If Lydia had been looking, she might have noticed the color spread all over Georgiana’s face. Lydia continued, “And we must ask Lizzy to join us, for she will be the one to pay for everything. To have a look at all this”—she waved her arms with astonishing flourish—“you would think my sister is the most selfish person in the world, for she hardly sends me any money at all—when she has so much and Wickham and I have so little.”
Mary said, “It is entirely impolitic to discuss such
matters, Lydia. Pray hold your tongue.”
“Oh! Bother, Mary.” She laced her arm through Georgiana’s once again. “Are we not all family? Georgiana is our sister. I am sure there is nothing I would say to any of my sisters that I would not also say to her.”
Later that day, Georgiana and Darcy were walking toward the stables. The two of them were planning a horseback riding excursion. Georgiana’s mind was all aflutter after everything she had heard from Lydia earlier in the day. If half of what Lydia espoused was true, Georgiana suspected she never really knew her brother at all. Why had he condoned Elizabeth’s sister marrying Mr. Wickham after his fierce opposition to an alliance between George and her? And what of all the earlier acrimony between her brother and Elizabeth; had Elizabeth’s initial feelings for Wickham—the man who would be her brother’s worst enemy—been the cause?
Darcy cleared his throat. “Georgiana, I saw you walking with Lydia today.”
“Indeed, Kitty and Mary were walking with us as well.”
“It appeared Lydia had a great deal to say.”
“Though I have only just made her acquaintance, I feel confident in saying she is never at a lack for words.”
Darcy tensed. He remained silent, which seemed to encourage his sister to continue.
“She seemed intent on regaling me with a thorough accounting of the earliest days of your acquaintance with Elizabeth. I never would have imagined they were marked with such strife—that there was a time the two of you did not even like each other.”
The muscles stiffened in Darcy’s shoulders. He wished his sister had not been an audience to such talk. As silly as Lydia was then and continued to be there was no telling how her ill-formed mind may have perceived things. From the moment he detected her wild behavior at the Meryton assembly to what he had thought would be the last he’d ever see of her at the Netherfield Ball, his opinion of her had gone steadily downhill.
Lydia’s uncouth comportment gives proof to the reason that young girls ought not to come out when they are fifteen.
Now he could not even look at her without recalling the state in which he had found her living in squalor with that George Wickham. Nor was he likely ever to forget her appalling behavior in the days leading up to her wedding. All that he had done on Lydia’s behalf he had done for Elizabeth. Having spent time with her at Pemberley, he did suffer a modicum of hope that Elizabeth might care for him. What unfolded during his subsequent visit to Longbourn with his friend Charles Bingley nearly put an end to that. The cool reception—bordering on incivility—he received from Elizabeth’s mother was something to which he had accustomed himself. Elizabeth’s lukewarm reception when he returned with Bingley was not what he had expected and had nearly persuaded him of her complete indifference. Had it not been for his aunt’s timely visit to Longbourn on the heels of Bingley’s proposal to Jane, he would have lost all hope forever.
Lady Catherine had called on him on her return through London. There, she related her journey to Longbourn, its motive, and the substance of her conversation with Elizabeth. His aunt had meant to secure Elizabeth’s promise that she had not and never would accept a proposal of marriage from him. Unluckily for her ladyship, the visit’s effect had been exactly contrariwise. It had taught him to hope as he had scarcely ever allowed himself to do theretofore. He knew enough of Elizabeth’s disposition to be certain that, had she been absolutely and irrevocably decided against him, she would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine, frankly and openly. This had been the basis for their good understanding that paved the way to their present happiness.
Darcy said, “Georgiana, I have never meant to give you the impression that my relationship with Elizabeth was without its share of trials and tribulations.”
“No—I am not suggesting you did. However, I hope you will remember your own experiences when it comes to my own future acquaintances. I am very much aware that it was love that brought you and Elizabeth to where you are today. It was love that made you eschew society’s expectations and commit to such an unequal alliance, and at the end of the day, it is love that will carry you through. I only ask that you will afford me the same level of understanding should I elect to follow my heart as well.”
Chapter 4
“What are your plans for today?” Elizabeth asked her husband the next morning.
“I will visit some of the tenants on the lower east side this morning. You should come with me.”
“I rather supposed I would call on some of the tenants after the festivities.”
“If that is what you feel is best. What do you plan to do today?”
“It seems I am to go into Lambton with Lydia. She said she needs to procure a few items for the dinner party.”
Darcy arched his brow. “Will there be just the two of you?”
“Not exactly—I thought I would invite Georgiana, Kitty, and Mary to join us. We might make a day of it as it will require some time at the modiste.”
“Again, you must do what you think is best. However, the possibility that Georgiana might be in proximity to George Wickham concerns me. I trust you will do everything in your power to prevent anything of that nature from happening.” Darcy took a sip of his hot coffee. “It did not escape my notice that Lydia spent a prodigious amount of time chatting with Georgiana yesterday. There is no telling what she might have told her.”
“Perhaps you would rather Georgiana and my sister Lydia kept their distance from each other as well.”
“I have no wish to quarrel with you on this matter, Mrs. Darcy. Certainly, you can surmise that someone of Lydia’s character is best kept away from impressionable young women. No doubt your father would agree with me. He would not wish to have Kitty or Mary spend time alone with Mrs. Wickham outside of supervision either.” Darcy sat his paper aside. “If you feel uncomfortable with the position I am placing you in then simply bring Mrs. Annesley along with you to Lambton. She heeds my counsel without debate.”
“Pardon me for thinking that you married me for reasons that have nothing in common with your reasons for engaging Mrs. Annesley’s services, sir.”
“Pray refrain from willfully misunderstanding me on this matter. It is just that Lydia is determined to plant seeds of discord in my sister’s head that I fear are beginning to take root. That husband of hers may very well have put her up to her mischief making. All I ask is that you keep a sharp eye on the situation.”
~*~
George Wickham sat alone for a time in a dimly lit corner of the room. He had made more enemies than not the last time he was in Derbyshire. The last thing he desired was someone to whom he owed money seeing him. Not to mention the degradation he suffered being the brother of the Fitzwilliam Darcy and yet being forced to stay in a shabby little inn.
Having finished the drink he’d been nursing for the past half hour, he was about to stand and quit the establishment when he saw a gentleman approaching his table. However, as best he could tell, he had never laid eyes on the man before that moment. What’s more, the fellow was holding a bottle of liquor in one hand and balancing two glasses in the other.
I might as well see what this stranger is about, Wickham considered.
“May I offer you drink, sir—one weary traveler to another, as it were?”
Wickham gestured for the man to take a seat. “I do not see why not.”
The man took the proffered seat. He sat the bottle and glasses down and extended his hand to Wickham. “Alston Carter, at your service.”
“George Wickham,” he returned, reaching not for the other man’s hand, but the bottle. Wickham poured himself a drink and threw it back in short order. After making a face that testified to the quality of the liquor, he poured himself another. He looked at his new companion. “I must thank you for your generosity, good fellow.”
“George Wickham, you say,” the other man said.
“Indeed, no doubt you have heard of me. I believe I am a bit of a legend in these parts.”
“Ah, but as I
said, I am merely a weary traveler. I have been in Lambton for just a couple of days. Soon I will continue my travels.”
“And where, pray tell, is your destination?”
The fellow shrugged. “I shall go wherever the road leads, good sir.”
“Are you in search of anything in particular—a fortune or, heaven forbid, a woman?”
“That smacks of bitterness, my friend,” said the other man who had by now poured himself a drink and was savoring its taste.
“I doubt there is anyone on Earth who would describe me as bitter,” Wickham began. “Such is not in my nature, although if I were the type to suffer such sentiments, I would be wholly justified in doing so. My life, you see, is not at all what it was meant to be. I was destined to marry to a woman of means—with some sense and education—someone whose connections would have lifted me up. Yet, here I sit in this place on the outside wishing to be invited to my own childhood home—my family’s home.”
The other gentleman crossed one long leg over the other. “Family quarrels can be a tricky business, can they not?”
“You’ll get no argument from me.”
“You said you were meant to marry a woman of means. What happened to impede such a happy conclusion?”
Wickham threw back his drink in a single swallow. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he said, “Fitzwilliam Darcy is what happened.”
“Pardon me, my friend, but do you speak of the Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley?”
Wickham huffed. “Is there any other?”
“Might I ask what happened between the two of you?”
George Wickham was never one to shy away from a good Darcy lambasting, but, in this case, he was wary. How did he know this stranger was not one of Darcy’s people? “I have said enough already.” He looked up at the commotion at the door. “Ah, here is one of the greatest sources of my disappointment now.”
The other man peered in the direction that Wickham was staring. “Pardon my saying so, but I see nothing at all to disappoint.”
