Wickham's Wife

by C. J. Hill

  Both ladies received his increasing attentions with a polite demureness, with no attempt at a rebuff which encouraged him to enquire, one week after their first encounter, whether it was their intent to attend a card evening at the Philips' that evening.

  "I am sure it would not be unseemly for you to be seen out in more varied company if you do not partake of the entertainment. I am sure that some conversation with friends would only be of benefit in relieving your sadness."

  Mrs. King demurred quietly. "I believe you may be correct, Mr. Wickham, but we now find ourselves here in Meryton alone, and do not tend to socialise in the evenings with no gentleman of our acquaintance available to escort us."

  Wickham was delighted!

  "Then I insist upon calling for both of you this evening and escorting you to the Philips' myself. I am well-known there and can assure you of a pleasant evening amongst friends. Would you allow me to be of such service, madam?"

  Miss King blushed profusely at the thought of her mother's confession being taken as a request but her mother had no such qualms.

  "Your offer is very kind and thoughtful, sir; I am sure there can be nothing against such a chivalrous service. We are in need of an escort, and you willingly provide yourself; we should be delighted to await your call this evening."

  After ascertaining the exact time, Wickham bowed to the ladies and set off back to his lodgings with a spring in his step. Miss King was certainly a demure, retiring little thing but not entirely unhandsome. If her fortune was as Denny had stated, then she might be just the lady he was seeking. Added to that was her apparent lack of male companions; none appeared to have given a thought to their female relations' predicament of being removed to a retired village without connections, friends, or the means of making them: it was curious indeed. And the absence of an interested male relative only paved the way for his approach; there would be no one to ask awkward questions about his intentions, history, connections, or means of supporting a family. The mother, he was certain he could charm; indeed, she was almost there already. She would believe everything he said without question.

  Denny was waiting with Carter for him as he entered his building.

  "Hello, Wickham! Where have you been hiding yourself this past week? We have hardly seen sight nor sound of you and have come to make sure you are in good health, and to impart some news. We can inform you that there will be a card evening at the Philips' tonight where a certain young lady might be in attendance, and so you must be certain to attend, too."

  Wickham laughed and placed his hat upon the chair. "Well, I can tell you that, unless you had arranged for it, she would certainly not have been in attendance tonight. Fortunately, I have already made her acquaintance this week - gradually, incrementally, over a period of days - and it transpired in our conversation today that they have not been able to attend any evening entertainments due to the lack of an escort, which is quite right and proper. And so I have proffered my services in said role, which were gratefully received, and the result is: I shall be bringing Mrs. and Miss King to the Philips' tonight, under my protection."

  Denny whistled in admiration. "I see you do not need anybody's help in matters of the heart, Wickham, nor of the purse! Come, Carter, we must also find young ladies to ensnare before Wickham here catches them all for himself!"

  "I am sure Miss Lydia will be available, Denny," called Wickham, as his friends walked out of the door, "she is always happy to be entertained by amusing and eager young men, as is her sister, Kitty! There - I have solved your problem for this evening!"

  Denny's laconic wave of dismissal as he retreated down the stairs was his only reply.

  Wickham took greater care about his appearance than usual that evening, and for many other evenings to follow: setting his belt just so, combing his hair, and brushing every last speck from his brilliant red jacket. He was welcomed into the house where the King ladies were staying and he gallantly offered his arm to Mrs. King for the short walk to the Philips', even though he would much have preferred her daughter in that position. Still, he told himself, slowly and graciously will win this race; better not to startle Miss King with too much attention too soon, and scare her away.

  His concern for their comfort throughout the evening did not falter, was noticed by many in attendance, and commented upon behind fans and raised hands. Lydia, although otherwise highly entertained by Denny and Carter, certainly felt the exclusion but, remembering his treatment of her at the wedding, determined to show him how little she cared for his attention and increased her flirtatious behaviour to such an extent that her sisters were moved to remind her of it and attempt some restraint, to no avail.

  Happily, Lizzy was not feeling the same sense of loss as her sister; she felt herself quite capable of smiling and talking just as always, not even slightly put out that her former lover was even now focusing his entire attention, which used to be hers alone, upon Miss King and was seemingly unaware that Lizzy was even in the room. She, too, had heard of the recent good fortune of Miss King and understood his transfer of affection with the greatest of ease. She merely found herself slightly disappointed that he was not being rather more discreet about his intentions and motivations - it was so very obvious what they were and, were she Miss King, she would not be sitting there passively accepting his attentions with such pleasure.

  Wickham, however, was immune from each lady's inner thoughts about him: his entire focus was upon Miss King and how he could impress her. She had already received his account of his misfortunes suffered at the hands of Darcy with pleasing sympathy, if not quite the energetic distaste it had aroused in another young lady he had wished to impress. But Miss King was not acquainted with the gentleman under discussion and certainly had not had occasion to build up any resentment towards him, and so, her more reserved response could not be called into question nor considered wanting.

  Upon walking the ladies back to their lodgings at the end of each succeeding evening’s entertainment, Wickham made sure to have planned the next outing to suggest for them all - such as was to be had in Meryton in the dead of Winter: a visit to the Clarkes Lending Library had now become within Miss King's budget and he enjoyed showing her around and introducing her to his friends there. Looking in the shop fronts at their displays while walking very slowly along the main street also became quite common, when the dirt and cold allowed it; Miss King could now also afford several items on display, where once she could only admire from afar. Wickham found that very little encouragement was required for her to give in to temptation and it pleased him that she was so liberal - sometimes she would include a little something for him, too, amongst her purchases when her mother was not looking – as it boded well for his future ease not to have a parsimonious wife. Arguments over money and the spending of it was not conducive to a harmonious partnership - he had tasted the bitterness of it with Julia and her attachment to her security - and he had no wish to endure it with someone who he was marrying merely for the benefit of that money. For it to be withheld, or used as a bargaining tool could not be borne and so, with approbation, he watched as Miss King purchased several lengths of muslin, spools of ribbon and enough lace for who knew what.

  Not only was this attention to Miss King furthering his aspirations but it also had the benefit of limiting the time he spent in the company of the other officers, gambling or drinking away money he did not have. While spending time quietly conversing with Miss King, or out walking with her and her mother was not the greatest source of entertainment, Miss King being rather diffident about voicing an opinion upon anything, Wickham found that he could bear the deprivation with the greatest ease; as long as he was not seen to be increasing his debts, he hoped that the merchants to whom he owed money would not be reminded of the fact. His funds were indeed running alarmingly low, even though he had managed to evade, with the deftness learned very early on in his career, any expectation of him to pay for the minor costs of the ladies' outings. Occasionally, though, after six w
eeks of such excursions and evenings and walks and taking tea, such expenses were impossible to avoid without embarrassment, making it increasingly urgent that his intentions should be aired without delay. Ironically, he felt more assured of Mrs. King's approval of such a proposal than he did of Miss King's, who continued to treat him with a calm indifference, friendly but not effusively so; but he believed such a display was merely hiding her true feelings as was only right and proper, and was confident they could be easily influenced towards matrimony.

  One such opportunity presented itself upon a damp and cold late-February afternoon. Wickham called, as was his routine, only to find Miss King alone in the drawing room as her mother had taken to her bed with a debilitating headache. Miss King welcomed him into the room which was overly filled with furniture and ornaments, and overly warm from the blazing fire in the grate; Wickham began to feel oppressed by the heat and wished he was at liberty to remove his jacket to relieve his discomfort. But perhaps, looking the part of an anxious lover with flushed cheeks and sweating brow would only improve his performance, and he smiled as she waved him towards the chair he was accustomed to occupying.

  "I am sorry to hear of your mother's indisposition, Miss King, I hope she will recover very soon. Does she require anything? A doctor, or a draft, perhaps?"

  "Oh, I thank you, but no. She will be quite well by this evening, I am sure, Mr. Wickham. We have the musical performance to attend tonight at Lucas Lodge, do not we? She would not allow such a trifling thing as a headache to prevent her from such an entertainment. We hope that you will escort us as usual, Mr. Wickham? Although we are now quite at home with most of the families of Meryton, thanks to your solicitous attention, we still prefer to arrive under the protection of a gentleman friend."

  "And shall you perform tonight, Miss King?"

  "Perhaps I shall, if anybody requests it," she blushed, "but performing to large groups is not something I enjoy, so I shall be quite content to be merely a listener. I hope Miss Elizabeth Bennet will play for us; I have heard from her aunt, many times, that she is a most accomplished pianist and singer."

  "Oh, indeed she is. I have had the pleasure of hearing her play on several occasions and she has a most delicate touch and sweet voice, but I am sure that she could not outshine any performance of yours, Miss King, and I would dearly love to hear you play and sing. If I request it, would you do me the honour of playing tonight?"

  "If there is a space for me in the programme, then, yes, I will play tonight, but only because you wish it so ardently, Mr. Wickham. But, I warn you, do not be disappointed in my performance if it does not match the skill of the other ladies."

  "I doubt I could feel any such emotion when it comes to you, Miss King. For the short time I have known you I have been impressed by your charm, your good sense, and your sincerity of feelings for your late grandfather - all of which prove what an honourable and kind person you are – and added to those are your beauty and elegance; I can hardly imagine that anything you attempt would be less than perfection."

  Miss King blushed hotly under such an open discussion of her merits and rose from her chair in agitation, turning away from Wickham to hide her distress.

  "Miss King! Please do not distress yourself. Forgive me but surely you have noticed that my feelings for you have been developing for some time now? I have made little attempt to conceal them; indeed, ever since I first saw you walking with your mother, I found myself wishing to know more of you."

  He rose and walked over to her, turning her around to face him, and taking her hands in his. She withdrew them immediately and moved further away.

  "Mr. Wickham! Do not say such things; words and feelings that you cannot mean. My mother is upstairs ill: if she were down here with us, you would not be making such declarations, of that I am certain. Please stop this nonsense immediately. We are friends: that is all. I have not intended to affect you in this manner. Please allow us to continue as we have been.”

  Wickham stepped back astonished! His shock must have registered upon his face as Miss King continued in a gentler tone.

  "Indeed, we are both exceedingly grateful for your kind attentions to us, Mr. Wickham, and I have greatly enjoyed your company; I should hate to lose your friendship over this matter, but, as to anything more - it cannot be presumed upon, I assure you, indeed it cannot."

  "And is this all I can expect from you, Miss King? Friendship? While I also have enjoyed our time together, I had hoped to have affected you beyond friendship. I believe your mother has assumed otherwise, encouraging me as she has in my expectations, as have you, although certainly to a less effusive degree. But I put that down to your natural modesty; your unwillingness to seem too interested as becomes a young lady, and I thought highly of you for it. But now I find that I have been misled entirely."

  He walked to the door and paused.

  "Allow me to wish you every good fortune and health, Miss King. Please convey my respects to Mrs. King and my wishes for her speedy recovery. I shall not call for you again unless I am invited; I would not be the cause of any further discomfort. Good day to you." And he closed the door quietly behind him, utterly confused and demoralised; it seemed every lady he chose for matrimony refused him, thinking more of her own security than her heart.

  But she would regret her refusal, he assured himself as he strode angrily back to his lodgings; she would reconsider and ask him to escort her again and all would be well. It was the duty of any self-respecting young woman to at first refuse the man she privately meant to accept. He just had to keep trying, that was all! She could not be entirely serious about her refusal; no sensible woman wished for a secluded life.

  Confident in his predictions, his mood improved greatly, inflated even further by a note delivered later that afternoon from Mrs. King, announcing her expectation that he would be escorting them that evening, and that they would be ready to receive him at seven-thirty. Of his conversation with her daughter, there was no mention: perhaps she had not been made aware of it; perhaps Miss King had spoken of it and her mother had advised against such a rash refusal. In any event, Wickham received the note with the greatest satisfaction as his dashed hopes began to re-build.

  Unbeknownst to him, or her daughter, Mrs. King's headache had been a figment of that same head and invented for the express purpose which had transpired in the drawing room. Mrs. King, although not the most intelligent of women, wanted her daughter to find a husband, even if he had no particular business or fortune of his own: her daughter's recent inheritance would ensure her comfort. All that needed to be ascertained was that the gentleman in question was well-mannered, charming, considerate towards both her daughter and herself, and had the ability to manage money. In her conversations with Mr. Wickham, she had been charmed by his manner; impressed by his selfless dedication to his country along with his apparent ability to sustain himself as a Gentleman Volunteer; and hopeful that his frequent hints at his connection with the Darcy family, although strained at the present time, would introduce her daughter to the level of society she deserved. Her ability to read a person's character was something upon which she prided herself and she felt her good opinion of Mr. Wickham was sensible and unbiased.

  She had heard - of course she had - the rumours and gossip spreading throughout the town regarding Mr. Wickham's prior behaviour, but this she discounted as a person who has had the opportunity to personally observe him for a length of time and, not once - she had reiterated to several of her new acquaintance who had tried to warn her against him - not once had he indicated the slightest desire to abandon her and her daughter to join a game of cards; nor by the smell of alcohol on his breath, had she been given the evidence of what they were accusing him. Perhaps he had turned over a new leaf due to his growing affection for Mary, she had suggested while watching them together.

  Upon descending to the drawing room that afternoon after hearing the front door close behind Wickham, she heard, therefore, with utter horror, her daughter's relation
of the events that had preceded Wickham's departure.

  "But what can you be thinking to send him away with such a definite refusal, Mary? Are you quite mad, I wonder? Who do you think will take care of you when I am gone if you do not find a suitable gentleman to marry, pray? You could not ask for a more agreeable, pleasant fellow than Mr. Wickham. He is so kind and considerate towards us both, I should have thought you would have been delighted at the prospect of becoming Mrs. Wickham. There are many other young ladies who would take him in an instant, believe me. Miss Elizabeth Bennet was smitten until recently, and, I have noticed, her sister, Miss Lydia, does not attempt to hide her admiration for him. Of course, neither of them have the fortune that you are blessed with, but nevertheless, he is a desirable man. I refuse to allow you to be so selfish and thoughtless in a matter that concerns not only your future happiness but that of your mother. How should I fare, pray, if you settle upon a man who refuses to take care of me? Mr. Wickham shows every warmth of feeling towards me and I should not be disappointed to have to face him every day of the rest of my life."

  "But Mamma! I do not love Mr. Wickham and I do not know him: neither do you. You are swayed by his outward appearance and behaviour but I fear there is something beneath the smooth veneer which I do not quite understand and therefore I cannot like him without knowing what he is hiding. Yes, you are correct, he is a most charming, solicitous, and attentive gentleman, and I do prefer his company to any other gentleman's, but I cannot think of marrying someone without knowing their past which I do not feel he has revealed to me.

  “I have heard whispers, Mamma, as I know have you, and I would know what the truth is behind those whispers before I trust the rest of my life to such a person who causes such them in the first place. Would you be happy if he gained my fortune and squandered it, or revealed a vicious nature? I cannot think our lives would be improved at all by such an ill-advised and rash decision."