Wickham's Wife

by C. J. Hill

  Julia leant her head against the cool wood of the front door, her hand grasping the key, her breathing and heartbeat gradually slowing, as she listened to the horses' hooves diminish into the distance. Wherever they had gone, she knew without a doubt that George had finally and irrevocably altered the direction of his life, and hers. He was now forever beyond her reach. Nothing he could say or do could rescue him from this fatal final gamble, however innocently he might claim it began.

  After a while, sighing, exhausted and quite sick at heart, she picked up the lamp from the table and walked very slowly back down the hall and into her private parlour where the cosiness of the firelight and candles seemed a world away from the dramatic events at the front door.

  "Ah! Julia; at last! I wondered where you had got to – who was it at the door that you were kept so long? I should have come with you; I would have dismissed ‘em pretty sharp this time of night. My dear? Are you quite well? No, indeed, I see clearly that you ain’t. You are white as a ghost; come and sit by me; give me your hands - I will warm you."

  Julia smiled wanly and leaned wearily up against his side.

  "I hope at least you sent 'em off with a flea in their ear for botherin’ you?"

  "Oh, yes, I did indeed. It was a young couple in need of a room, quite desperately as it appeared, but I suspected impropriety in their request and so could do nothing for them. They have gone to enquire elsewhere."

  "Well, it took ‘em long enough to get the message. This here is a respectable house and I surely admire you for keepin’ it that way.

  Julia smiled weakly up at him; he was so solid and dependable.

  "I hope you are still considerin' my offer, Julia? There would be no late-night callers disturbin' us if you was to accept, y'know."

  Julia smiled again, breathing deeply and steadying her pained heart.

  "Oh, I am certainly considering it very carefully, Samuel. I believe I can see my way much more clearly now; everything is not as it was."

  Mr. Clemens smiled in delight.

  "That gives me great joy to hear, Julia. But you take your time my dear; we ain't got nothin' but time from now on. If you agree, you will make me the happiest man on both sides of the Atlantic."

  It was not another late-night caller who disturbed Julia several days later, but in the late afternoon just as the dark was gathering, a loud and persistent rapping was heard again upon the door. The intervening days had further increased her misery as her vivid memories of George’s stricken face when she had refused to help him, and the selfish satisfaction displayed upon that of Lydia, had whirled around her head. Continuous images which had interfered with sleep, attention to daily details, and coherent conversation.

  Eagerly, therefore, upon hearing the knocking on her door, she rose from her chair in the anticipation that George had finally returned to explain; to apologise; to confess – it did not matter, as long as he returned - so they could at least part as friends; she hoped for nothing more than that, now.

  Her disappointment, then, was great indeed when the maid ushered in not George, but another gentleman with whom she was much less acquainted but recognised instantly.

  "Mr. Darcy!"

  His face was grim as he bowed and acknowledged her astonishment.

  "Good afternoon, Mrs. Younge. Yes, unfortunately, we meet again, and, once again, under circumstances of an egregious nature not unlike those which brought us together in Ramsgate. Once again I find myself in search of Mr. Wickham, and, remembering that my sister had mentioned your correspondence with her, I was able to gain your previous address; from there it was an easy matter to find you here."

  "And how is Miss Darcy, sir?" Julia stammered in confusion.

  "My sister is, I thank you, very well and safely in Derbyshire for the Summer."

  He hesitated as he considered something, and then, taking the proffered seat, continued.

  "Have no fear, madam; my sister has assured me that you were in no way to blame for the misunderstanding of last year, and I wish firstly to apologise for my behaviour towards you in that matter: for my behaviour and actions towards Mr. Wickham, I make no apology. In fact, I heartily wish I had done more to expose his behaviour at that time, rather than allowing my pride dictate it be kept secret. If I had not had such misplaced pride, I would not be seeking him again for another, similar exploit and one for which, this time, he cannot be allowed to escape the consequences.”

  Julia heard his words in confusion and it flashed through her mind that at another time she would have, at this juncture, made an attempt to clear George’s name for that prior misunderstanding: now, she felt no compunction to do so, and understood any explanation would be useless against Mr. Darcy’s present agitation.

  "I thank you for your apology, sir; it has long preyed on my mind that you have thought me guilty of a crime against your sister whose interests and innocence I only wished to protect, and I am glad to hear of her current health and happiness.

  "But what is it that Mr. Wickham has done that now concerns you, sir, if Miss Darcy is safe?"

  Darcy glanced uncomfortably in Julia’s direction, cleared his throat and, shifting his position, began in a quieter tone.

  "I am aware, madam, that you have had a long acquaintance with Mr. Wickham, not as long as I, but long enough to know his character. The level of your friendship, I do not doubt, is of an enduring and intimate kind and I do not presume to judge nor comment on it, except to say that the news that I bring will, I have no doubt, cause you some pain.

  "Casting aspersions upon another’s character is not usually within my nature, but I find myself in the unenviable position of being forced so to do; if there were any other way of gaining the information I require, I would have taken it, I assure you."

  "You allude, perhaps, to Mr. Wickham’s unexpected departure from Brighton several nights ago, in the company of Miss Lydia Bennet?" Julia asked flatly, concealing her anguish at the words spoken aloud.

  Darcy started and stared at her intently.

  "Indeed; that is the event to which I refer, Mrs. Younge, and, since you already know of it, I would ask you most earnestly to divulge the whereabouts of Mr. Wickham and Miss Bennet; it is an elopement that must be concealed before he refuses to honour his promise, which I am sure he must have made to her, and her character is utterly ruined. I have not the slightest doubt that he has no intention of marrying a girl who lacks wealth, position, or connections, and I fear for her reputation if he manages to evade it. You must assist me in my endeavour, Mrs. Younge, before the situation is irredeemable."

  "But I do not understand your interest in rescuing a girl who is not one of your family or friends. What is her reputation to you, sir? Why should you take so much trouble over her, other than having the satisfaction of prevailing upon Mr. Wickham and forcing him into a marriage you believe he clearly wishes to evade?"

  "My motives are selfish, I admit, but not, I hope, as selfish as that. I am not at liberty to share the reasons for them with you, madam. Let it suffice to say that Mr. Wickham must be stopped; he is a careless, indolent man who uses and casts others aside in order to pursue his own pleasure. I know that you cannot be unaware of this as a long-time friend, and I am sorry to speak so harshly of him, but it is the case. If he is not found immediately and forced to marry Miss Bennet, or she is not returned to her family, then she will be ruined and I would not wish that upon any woman whose only faults are a lack of good sense, immaturity, and a false belief that she is loved.

  "Mrs. Younge, whatever your feelings for Mr. Wickham, please cast them aside and favour Miss Bennet in this sorry situation. Please: give me the address of Mr. Wickham so I can either remove Lydia from his company and immediately return her to her family, or ensure the marriage takes place. You must see that these are the only alternatives in the case."

  Julia felt ill; her heart was now entirely broken. Mr. Darcy’s words rang with truth and reason, and put an end to any lingering hopes she may have foolishly held;
they also showed a depth of sympathy and concern for both her and Lydia that was unexpected.

  Distressed, she fought back tears and spoke in an almost whisper.

  "I confess, sir, that they came to me several nights ago, very late, after travelling alone almost two days together from Brighton." She raised her eyes to ensure he understood her meaning: he did.

  "They asked for a room: I refused them. I was so angry and humiliated: once again he had placed himself in an intolerable position from which he could not extricate himself, and she, utterly unaware, was supremely confident of becoming Mrs. Wickham – a name I had once thought would be mine one day. The situation was insupportable in every way and I turned them away without waiting for an explanation or asking where they would go, or anything.

  "I truly do not know where they are at present; I have not heard from, nor seen them since that night, but if they are still in London they will probably be somewhere close to Wickham’s lodgings off Sheer Lane in St. Clement’s - perhaps there are some in that quarter who might know of them; or perhaps Mr. Jardine has taken them in, but I truly do not know more than that."

  Julia’s voice trailed away into silence.

  "I thank you for your honesty, Mrs. Younge, much as it grieves me to inflict such pain upon you. I fear, from what you have now told me, that there is no alternative course to be taken: they must marry. But, it will be for the best; perhaps you cannot see it as such at the moment, but everyone deserves a partner in life who cares as much about them as they do; I am sure you have endured many disappointments during your attachment to Mr. Wickham to cause you to question your feelings and devotion towards him."

  Julia smiled sadly. "And yet, even after many such disappointments, Mr. Darcy, my feelings and devotion are strangely unaffected and intact - how I wish that they were not. It would make his mistakes and failures easier to bear if I could detach myself from him and truly love another, but we women tend to love longest even when it would appear to have no future in it; it is our weakness and our burden. But I sincerely wish you success in your quest, even though it spells certain heartbreak for me."

  Darcy rose and gently bade his farewell, in the knowledge that his actions would ruin the happiness of the woman who stood with such dignity before him.

  "We must always have hope, Mrs. Younge, in love and in life; it is a lesson that has taken me a long time to learn. I hope that your future will merely be shaped by this episode, not permanently scarred.

  "Good evening, Mrs. Younge, and please accept my best wishes for your health and happiness."

  "Good evening, Mr. Darcy. I thank you for your kindness and sincerely hope you are able to discover the couple before it is too late."

  She watched as the door closed behind Mr. Darcy, and then sat, as she had many times before, reflecting upon her life, love and future, but this time without tears or recrimination, merely a numb acceptance.

  It would be done; it was beyond her control. Wickham was now lost to her forever. She knew Mr. Darcy would not rest until he had forced the marriage and erased the blot upon Lydia’s name.

  Epilogue

  A businessman, eagerly returning from a lengthy trip in the North, knocked upon the familiar front door in Edward Street. He enquired of the maid who answered about a room - his usual room if possible - and was taken into the front parlour. He was just noticing the absence of the usual homely decorations and comfortable furnishings that had been in that same room upon his last visit, how quite bare and coldly unwelcoming it was now, when an older woman entered and bade him make himself comfortable.

  “I understand, sir, that you would be wantin’ a room? Now which room was it you was requestin’, sir? We ‘ave several available, sir, and for as long as you might be needin’ it.”

  The businessman, quite taken aback, requested to speak with Mrs. Younge - she knew his preferences and requirements intimately - he was a regular and valued guest.

  “Oh, God bless you no, sir! Mrs. Younge, sir, she ain’t here no more. Did not you hear? Well p’rhaps you won’t ‘ave, being a travelling man an’ all, but she up an’ lef’ the City, oh, a while ago now, with an American gentleman, sir. Said she was going as his housekeeper. Said she fancied a bit o’ a change, like. She gave me a good price for the lease of this ‘ere business to do with as I liked.

  “Now, which room would you prefer, sir? Come along with me and you can choose; we ain’t so busy as that Mrs. Younge claimed we would be, but mebbe ‘tis jus’ the time of year, sir.

  “This way, sir, if you please.”

  Acknowledgments

  While this work is entirely of the author’s imagination, she would like to acknowledge that some excerpts have been used from Pride and Prejudice in order to authenticate scenes and conversations which appear in both books.

  Grateful thanks also go to her primary proofreaders, Elyse Hill and Chloe Hill, whose detailed and thoughtful suggestions were warmly appreciated.

  Catherine Hill is a high school English teacher and great admirer of Jane Austen’s wit and social commentary. She has lived in England and Northern California, and now resides in New Zealand.

  Further information about the author can be found on:

  Facebook: facebook.com/pages/CJ-Hill

  Goodreads: goodreads.com/CJHill

  Her first novel, Prudence and Practicality, also based on Pride and Prejudice, explores the story behind Charlotte Lucas and William Collins, and their first year of marriage. The opening chapter is included here for your enjoyment. Please find the book in its entirety wherever e-books are sold.

  I

  “My dear!” exclaimed Sir William to his wife and assorted children at luncheon one chilly September Thursday, “I almost forgot to mention, what with all the commotion regarding the new governess arriving for the children – “I heard from Mr. Tripp, who farms on the Netherfield property, that it would appear someone has taken an interest in renting Netherfield Park at last!”

  “And who might this someone be?” languidly enquired Lady Lucas, exhausted with her duties as employer of the aforementioned governess and all that it had entailed this morning. Really, it was so inconvenient having to keep replacing staff on account of them being unable to control the children. Governesses appeared to be made of rather poor stuff these days. Perhaps it was time to retain a tutor for the younger boys, she reflected; a male figure would stand for none of their nonsense and beat the insolence out of them.

  “Tripp was not able to see the interested party for himself, but his wife, who is friends with the cook there, said that the servants had been told to expect a small party from the North and that they would arrive some time after Michaelmas and stay for the year, if not longer. His concern mainly appeared to centre upon the nature of the gentleman and how his stewardship would affect the tithes due from the tenant farmers.”

  “Yes, yes, but who could he be? I’ll warrant it must be a young man in search of an estate worthy of his fortune but I know of none such from the north. I wonder if he is single or married? Sir William, you must visit him as soon as may be and discover if he is single and, if he is, place our girls at an advantage; for you know that he will be the object of all the families in the area. His fortune must be a sizeable one to afford such a property as Netherfield.”

  “Indeed, my dear, but I am far more interested in making acquaintances equal to my standing. There are not many in this area who can boast of an entrée into the Court of St. James or to have connections in the London trade circles as I do.

  “I do hope he is a man of commerce and good sense, and not another idle aristocrat with naught on his mind and even less in it.”

  “Maybe, father,” interrupted his eldest daughter, Charlotte, with a twinkle in her eye, “it would behove him to be single, of good fortune, have acute business sense, and favourable, pleasant manners and appearance, and also be amenable to marriage! Then he would surely please every person in Meryton and beyond; until he makes his choice which, of course, he must.
Then he shall be reviled by all who are discarded and live to rue the day he ever approached even the perimeter of the Netherfield Estate! I do hope he has a strong constitution to withstand all the attention he will attract, and, later, the jibes that will be thrown upon him.”

  Charlotte laughed heartily at her vision of the poor, as yet unknown, gentleman being importuned by all, and surely ensnared by one of the many families around about that had daughters of eligible age, perfectly unaware of the commotion his tenancy was already causing before he had even slept a night in his newly-acquired country seat.

  “You might well laugh, young lady,” Lady Lucas snapped at her twenty-seven year old daughter, “but you should have found a husband before now and I hope that your father will press your case most firmly when he welcomes our new neighbour. I despair of you finding a husband when you bury yourself so deeply in this household and its affairs. You must make an opportunity of this new neighbour and our early warning of his arrival, and hope that something can be made of it. Otherwise, I shall insist that Maria be brought out and let her have her chance in society as she deserves.”

  “Ohh, yes, Mamma!! Please may I go to the next assembly? I should so like to dance and see society; Lydia and Kitty Bennet both are out and they tell me such wonderful stories about the balls and assemblies that I should rather like to experience them for myself. It seems most unfair that they should have all the advantages and I have none.”