Trouble With Wickham

by Olivia Kane

  Thusly satisfied that the young Mr. Radcliffe was a man of sense and education, Fitzwilliam most highly desired to bring Georgiana to his attention. Surely she could stay at Pemberley unattended for a week and have no harm come to her, for his staff was loyal to a fault and just as protective of Georgiana as he was.

  Indeed, he was not unaware of how deeply he had been affected by Wickham’s scheme to entrap and ruin Georgiana in order to line his pockets. Wickham’s recent escapade with Miss Lydia Bennet convinced Fitzwilliam that his former friend’s wicked character was unimproved; he was still capable of wreaking havoc on unsuspecting lives. Although the near miss elopement with Georgiana at Ramsgate was a few years past, the feelings of betrayal had not ebbed. In Fitzwilliam’s mind, the narrowly averted disaster ignited deep feelings of mistrust in him, powerful feeling he did not know he possessed.

  His only consolation in the unhappy event was the fact that Georgiana herself had been the one to confess the plan. She was all goodness, and could not bear to be dishonest; her vulnerability only made Fitzwilliam despise Wickham even more.

  Since then he felt a deepened sense of responsibility toward Georgiana’s future. Perhaps he erred too often on the overprotective side, but he did not know how to ride the issue in the middle.

  Wickham’s marriage to Lydia Bennet had only served to complicate matters further. Fitzwilliam had done the right thing by intervening and inducing Wickham to marry Lydia, saving her and the Bennet family name from social death. He did not shirk from doing what he believed was right, knowing all the while that his love for Elizabeth could tie him and Georgiana permanently to a man he despised. Upon his marriage to Elizabeth, Fitzwilliam dealt with the Wickham issue the only way he knew how: by forbidding Lydia or Wickham to ever set foot on the grounds of Pemberley. Georgiana’s reputation and safety would always come first.

  Likewise, upon being settled at Pemberley Georgiana had but one restriction placed on her: under no circumstance could she accompany Elizabeth on her visits to Longbourn. Although she might have liked to see Elizabeth’s home, her brother would not allow it.

  “I cannot risk you running into objectionable company while visiting there,” he said.

  Georgiana wished he would just say his name.

  “You mean George Wickham?”

  Darcy refused to acknowledge his enemy.

  “It is not a sin to say his Christian name brother. The past is in the past.”

  Fitzwilliam was not so sure. He saw no good purpose in discussing George Wickham. “I have managed, with considerable finesse, to keep that debacle in Ramsgate a secret. Please, dear sister, follow my guidance in this matter.”

  “But is the debacle, as you like to call it, my own secret to keep or yours? Shouldn’t I be free to speak of it if I so desire, according to my own judgment?”

  “I do not think that it is wise to be introduced to society as the young lady once easily seduced by George Wickham,” he said bluntly. “Society is fickle. Consider that you are not the subject of gossip when you very well may have been,” he reminded her. For this Georgiana was not ungrateful.

  “I am sorry,” she said, laying a quick kiss on her brother’s cheek. “Obviously the George Wickham I thought I knew never existed,” she said, with a small laugh.

  For his part, Fitzwilliam could not laugh about the matter. He had no problem acting the bad guy where Georgiana’s reputation was concerned.

  However, bringing Georgiana to Bennington Park had the potential to afford her great future happiness, if the introductions he planned in his mind went accordingly. He smiled to himself at the thought of having Georgiana happily settled. He had tried his whole life to be the right brother to her; in the years since the death of his father he and Colonel Fitzwilliam had made their shared guardianship over her their first priority with no disagreements arising between the two of them on the direction of her care.

  Yet despite providing her with the best of education, food and whatever clothes she determined were necessary to keep up with society in London and Paris, in terms of his guardianship he believed he had yet to achieve the most important goal—a suitable spouse. He had harbored silent hope that his good friend Charles Bingley might be that man; alas, Bingley’s instant infatuation with Jane Bennet had forced Fitzwilliam to change course. But with his notice of Hugh Radcliffe, he saw the dawn of a new future.

  Of his wishes in this regard, he would be circumspect, for he had no intentions of forcing Georgiana into anyone’s company. He knew his sister well; if she suspected that she was being set up with the young Radcliffe she might purposely find him objectionable. Privacy was the key to success. So delicately did he feel the connection must be handled that he had not mentioned his matchmaking hopes even to Elizabeth, in whom he loved to confide. The easy introduction was an art; in Georgiana’s case if the weekend were to go smoothly then he figured she was halfway to becoming the next Lady Radcliffe.

  Recent changes in his sister’s nature convinced him even further of this need for secrecy. She had recently become more obstinate, chafing under his suggestions and flaunting her independence in insignificant incidents. Lately he had observed her shedding her timid ways in exchange for a stronger, surer voice. Her association with the Stanhopes in London, a connection she knew he disapproved of and which he happily severed the day he brought her back home to Pemberley, was the most recent example.

  It did not irritate him, this free spiritedness that she was currently exercising, a bird resisting her gilded cage. She was simply growing into a strong young lady. His mother, bless her soul, had been confident and bold. He had no desire to see his sister’s spirits downcast, or to sentence her to a solitary life without proper companionship. However, she had proven herself once to be a poor judge of character. As she herself did not have it in her to hurt another she could hardly recognize those that lived to do so.

  He wanted Georgiana to discover the young Mr. Radcliffe on her own. If by his powers of observation he was able to determine any modicum of delight on her end with the young man, then he vowed to do everything in his power to make sure that no obstacle interfered with her happiness. He offered a silent prayer that the weekend would surpass his hopes, and that he could play a significant part in making his sister’s happiness complete.

  Chapter Five

  Hugh Radcliffe was restless. Lately, he had found himself out of sorts; the lone child remaining at Bennington Park. The house was quiet with Charlotte gone. He had not noticed how much commotion she added to each day, what with her constant chattering on nonsensical topics or leaving her fashion magazines and gothic novels scattered all over the furniture. He even missed the smell of her paints and the messy easel that she had the habit of propping up right in his path.

  His former partner in idleness, Guy Lancaster, was now rightly preoccupied with matters of spouse and home and Hugh felt the loss of his companionship on a daily basis.

  He filled his days roaming the quiet house and grounds aimlessly. He was alternately restless and morose and the hunting party had come at the right time for him. He needed a distraction.

  “You need a wife,” his father insisted. “And some demanding children. Or take care I don’t put you in charge of one of the tenant farms. That will end your boredom quickly.”

  Hugh let his father’s words go in one ear and out the other.

  On the matter of marriage, he did not know if he had no wish to marry or simply no woman to tempt him. For a year or so he had harbored a secret affection for Miss Jane Bennett, as did most young men of the neighborhood. Jane was the brightest star in the Meryton sky, her only fault being an inability to show favor or affection to any one man. Indeed she showed it equally to all. As a result Hugh did not know if he should advance toward her or respectfully retreat.

  Compounding Jane’s diffidence was his mother’s constant harping on Mrs. Bennet’s lack of manners, the wildness of the sisters, and the indifference shown by Mr. Bennet to his daughters’ follies.
Fearing his mother’s disapproval, his admiration for Jane was conducted entirely from afar and in secret.

  Then, upon seeing the newcomer Mr. Bingley sweep into town and successfully court Jane, Hugh realized the error of his approach. It was a valuable lesson; in the future he would guard his heart against his mother’s influence and pursue with haste the next object of his affection, whoever she may be. His mother’s hawk-eyed evaluation of every eligible woman that crossed his path did not make matters any easier for him.

  As the heir to Bennington Park, his father lately insisted that he spend more time at the estate. Lord Radcliffe lived every day as if he were about to die the next, fixating over the accounts books, reviewing his last will and testament, always convinced that the next cough or sneeze signaled the end of his days.

  Since the end of August Hugh had been in residence in Hertfordshire, per his parents’ wishes. He knew that, in addition to his father’s peculiarities regarding his own mortality, the elder Lord Radcliffe was desperately trying to distract Lady Radcliffe from Charlotte’s absence.

  Hugh was well aware of his mother’s propensity to dissolve into tears when the subject of her empty nest arose. As a result he was happy to entrench himself at Bennington Park, accompanying his mother as she rode about the countryside on her charitable endeavors for the parish and offering himself up as a dependable dance partner for the familiar young women at the regular Meryton assemblies, many of them secretly hoping that the handsome heir would whisk them away to be the mistress of Bennington Park. Instead, he remained as indifferent to them as he had been the previous 25 years of his life.

  He had indulged his parents’ whims generously during this interval, only putting his foot down once. It occurred at the dinner table one evening, in response to his parent’s suggestion that he accompany them on their visit to Rosings Park to meet with the grand Lady Catherine.

  “I’d sooner pull my back teeth out with a pair of forceps,” he stated simply.

  “I will put you down as a no then,” his father replied.

  Hugh grinned at his father and speedily downed his glass of wine. The news of the impending trip to Rosings Park pleased him; he looked forward to his parents vacating the estate and leaving him in charge for a week. He might have a few old university chums out for a night or two of cards and drinking, he imagined.

  Such fun did occur for Hugh, and a memorable week passed with his male friends, ravishing the wine cellar, breaking the odd vase here and there and causing what he considered to be only minimal damage to the flowerbeds. By his parents return he had orchestrated the necessary repairs and the house and gardens were back to their usual high standards. He stuffed the broken pieces of pottery in a feed sack filled with heavy rocks and sunk them in the river.

  Fortunately for Hugh, upon return Lord and Lady Radcliffe were too preoccupied recounting the glories of their stay at Rosings Park to notice any evidence of disrepair in their surroundings. Unfortunately for Hugh, their visit to Rosings had unearthed another young heiress in need of a suitable mate.

  It was not long before he began to hear the name Miss Anne de Bourgh popping up repeatedly in conversation. He suspected, rightly, that she had no prospects of her own and that he had been singled out to fill that bill. He sighed, anticipating the inevitable awkward introduction, banal conversations about pastimes and preferences and, later, a thorough interrogation by his mother as to the exact reasons why the proffered heiress failed to excite him.

  It was at times such as these that he wished he had a childhood sweetheart with whom he was madly in love. Nathaniel Heresford, his friend from Eton, had such an arrangement with a tall and willowy charmer who was earmarked for him from childhood, leaving him free to move about without the endless speculation Hugh endured.

  As the heir to a great fortune he had always behaved admirably; his father had drilled into him that there were to be no bastards in the Radcliffe line of succession.

  “I am more than willing to cut you off in my lifetime if you prove you cannot control yourself,” his father had threatened.

  Hugh loved his home as much as his sister did, and vowed that he would not lose his father’s good opinion or marry unless the match incited the envy of his contemporaries.

  Nevertheless, talk of Rosings Park did not abate. Soon Hugh began to gird himself for dinner by preparing a small list of relevant topics to use in distracting his mother from the subject of Anne de Bourgh.

  “Rosings Park was one of the finest estates I have ever seen. The mantelpiece alone is quite costly,” Lady Radcliffe recalled as the soup was poured and served.

  “I heard, and smelled, that the cook made mince pies today,” Hugh replied, sipping from his spoon.

  “This Miss de Bourgh is blonde. Do you like fair haired girls my dear?” his mother asked, gazing at her son while absentmindedly stirring her soup.

  “I like all colors of hair. Oh, I have had a letter from my brother. Seems his footman left his post suddenly and without notice,” Hugh countered.

  “I don’t think Miss de Bourgh rides, from what I remember,” Lord Radcliffe guessed, trying hard to recollect any mention of her horsemanship.

  “What a pity. Those new pens from London were worth the expense, don’t you agree Father?” Hugh replied.

  “Yes, I agree. You will meet Miss de Bourgh here for the hunt. There will be plenty of time for you two to get acquainted,” his father persisted.

  Hugh gave up and concentrated on his meal. From his perspective, the inclusion of the unbetrothed heiress and her mother on the hunt party’s guest list cast an unnecessary pall on what he had been hoping would be an enjoyable gathering. He dreaded the pressure that came with such expectations. Rarely did he and his parents agree on suitable women.

  However, he left his true thoughts on the upcoming matchup unsaid, instead making a plan to hide out with Guy at the Meryton Arms on the day of Lady Catherine’s arrival. He intended to limit his encounters with Miss de Bourgh to crowded settings, where his attentions to her as the host could not be misconstrued as anything other than well mannered politeness.

  Therefore, he and Guy were happily situated at a prime place before the fire in the dark and welcoming tavern, taking refuge in tanks of ale and local gossip, shelling nuts at the familiar oak table, avoiding the incoming guests and the expectations that came with them.

  “I can only hope that her mother, Lady Catherine, is not the pushy type,” Hugh lamented to Guy. “I do not yet feel a pull toward matrimony, no matter how much my parents wish it for me.”

  Guy leaned forward excitedly. “But see there my friend, that is where you have got it all wrong. I was hardly seeking matrimony myself when I walked into Bennington Park and fell for your sister. One is only happy to enter into the institution of marriage when it seals the affections of the one you do not wish to ever get away. Therefore you should not seek the institution for it’s own sake, but as a means of securing the woman who has already captured your heart. I guarantee you my friend it has not yet happened to you, for if it had I would not be sitting here trying to explain it. Trust me on this.”

  Hugh hoped his friend was right. Indeed, he reflected, his affection for Jane Bennet must not have been of the right kind as it hardly stirred him to any sort of action. Instead he had stood silently by, as if in a dream, and watched Bingley swoop in and steal her heart without losing his appetite or a single night’s sleep over the whole matter.

  And yet here was the example of his good friend Guy, who could not stop himself from defying the Earl of Buckland in order to secure Charlotte’s love. Guy’s actions were a powerful example; Hugh vowed that he would not marry any woman unless he felt so strongly about her that he would anger the best shot in the county to keep from losing her.

  Perhaps he should not assume so quickly that this Miss de Bourgh would not stir those feelings in him. Indeed, a small part of him hoped she would, as he was beginning to fear that he was a man not easily pleased, and that a decade for
ward he would find himself in the exact same position, still alone, still the subject of constant matchmaking, and in the end settle for a woman solely to get the business done and over with and not because of any depth of feeling on his part.

  He certainly knew himself capable of love, or so he thought. He loved his mother and father dearly, and his brother and sister as a sibling should. There was no end to his affection for every one of his horses, from his first pony Teddy to Gilly, his current mare. Even Charlotte’s yapping Pomeranians melted his heart.

  No, he decided, after a moment of self-reflection, if he was capable of loving a horse he was capable of loving a woman. Ideally, there was a woman out there whom he could love more than his horse.

  Perhaps she simply hadn’t appeared yet.

  .

  Chapter Six

  It was a few minutes past three o’clock when the Darcy’s coach rattled down the lane to Bennington Park. Charlotte was resting in her old room, where she and Guy had relocated after vacating the south suite in anticipation of the arrival of Lady Catherine, when she heard the clop of the horses’ hooves approaching. Elizabeth had recently written that Fitzwilliam had splurged on a new coach, and at the sight of the shiny, expensive model coming down the lane, Charlotte ran from the window and went swiftly downstairs to join her parents in the forecourt to greet her friend.

  Conflicting emotions bubbled up inside Charlotte as the coach rolled to a stop in front of her. She felt unexpectedly nervous about the Darcys’ arrival; she worried that marriage might have changed the easy rapport she had with Elizabeth. She worried that, despite her friend’s assurances other wise, Mr. Darcy would be glum and not fit into the party. She worried that tending to the needs of his little sister Georgiana would leave her and Elizabeth with no time of their own. She had never invited another couple to stay with her at Bennington Park; whatever had possessed her to debut her hostessing skills on a man as proud as Mr. Darcy?