“If you do not explain yourself, I will have you beaten and thrown out.”
“Ahhh, you see, our business had finished, but then my dear godfather’s son became engaged to your…hmmm, lovely is not the correct term… Darcy became engaged to your distinguished daughter. And upon hearing the news, I raised a toast to his happiness — we have been enemies, but there is some fondness. You can hardly be surprised that I would become sentimental upon hearing that my closest childhood companion is to marry.”
“What is your point?”
Wickham smiled widely. He loved the temper into which he could put this woman so easily. She was such a silly creature who truly believed the whole world revolved around her and her wishes. And she’d rather lost whatever pragmatic sense she’d ever had.
Simply giving him a thousand pounds without any guarantees last time he’d visited? He’d expected to gain maybe a fifth of that sum. The thousand pounds had paid all his debts of honor, bought him a new suit of clothes from an excellent tailor who had long since learned to demand payment in advance from Wickham, a fine horse, and a long drinking binge, during which he gambled the horse away.
After the hangover, Wickham had only a few fivers left to settle his debt with his landlord. He gathered his new suit and other important belongings and sneaked from the building. While walking to a friend’s lodging, Wickham found that his headache was worsened by the awful, awful glare of the noonday sun glinting off the Thames.
It was too hot in London. Muggy, and sweaty. And the damned glare. He should get out of town until the weather cooled. If only he had more money.
Then Wickham’s happy genius intervened. He had a beautiful idea.
If Lady Catherine was so determined to be generous, he ought to give her opportunity to exercise this newly discovered trait. At her age, she might not be long for the world, and it would be good for her soul to shower her goods upon the less fortunate.
Now he was here with her Ladyship once more. Wickham grinned widely at Lady Catherine.
It was only when she struggled to her feet to grab the bell pull that he held up his hand to delay her. “I suspect Mr. Darcy is in fact unhappy about this marriage. He had so many opportunities to ask Miss de Bourgh before, and the announcement came just a few days after my visit. Cathy, are you” — Wickham lowered his voice and forced a serious expression. He glanced from side to side, as though checking to make sure they were alone — “are you blackmailing Mr. Darcy with my information?”
Lady Catherine glared at him, gripping the cane she kept with her between her gnarled hands.
Wickham let his question hang in the air. Then he theatrically widened his eyes and clutched at his chest. “Cathy! Cathy! No — say it is not so! Not you! I would never, never have believed this of you. I thought you wanted to protect the Earl of Chancey from Georgiana’s contamination…not this! I am shocked, shocked to find you involved in such an enterprise.”
“What do you want!”
“Now, Cathy—”
“Never use my Christian name again. I swear, I’ll have you beaten about the head if you do so.”
The old woman had risen, and she swung the cane at Wickham’s head. He grabbed it from the air and pulled it away from her. She was left standing unsteadily on her feet. Wickham helped her to sit on the couch and then took her place in the thronelike chair she preferred to use.
He said in a voice that barely managed a pretense of being hurt, “I thought we were better friends than that.”
Wickham picked up the box of jewelry that the lady had been sorting through when he entered the room and began to look through it himself. “It hit me in the conscience — a painful place to be struck. I realized I might be hurting the happiness of my childhood companion. Having a conscience is such an expensive proposition. They cost so much to suppress.”
“You intend to steal more money from me?”
“Steal? Steal! Take that back. I would never steal from a gentlewoman! I insist you take that insult back.”
Lady Catherine spat at him. “You are a foul pestilential toad who is not worthy to sit upon my chair.”
“You are quite crude. Spitting, milady? I no longer even want to call you Cathy.”
It was there in her eyes. She was thinking of standing and trying to attack him again. Wickham felt a little disappointed when she didn’t.
“Get out!”
“Now, I could do that. But I’d have to go to Mr. Darcy and explain my attack of conscience if I did that. I would simply be unable then to later provide you the evidence you want if Darcy bows out. In fact if Darcy gave me a little money, I’d quite willingly swear before Lord Chancey that Georgiana never even agreed to an elopement.”
“I already paid you!”
“Yes, but…you paid me. Not my conscience.” Wickham spread his hands out widely. “Surely you can see the difference — you’ve already tasted success. Think of the extra scandal if Darcy abandoned Anne now. You surely would be willing to pay a great sum to avoid that.”
“I ought to have you killed. I’ll tell everyone you need to be killed.”
Wickham rolled his eyes and pulled from the jewelry box a pretty jeweled hair pin. He held it up in the air to catch the early afternoon light streaming through the windows. “If I died, who would provide evidence for your wild story? I must say, I’ve begun to entertain grave doubts about your sanity — I suspect you’ll more likely end up in Bedlam than believed without my help.”
“What do you want?”
“A great sum. Much bigger than the last.”
Wickham was not going to give a number until he saw if Lady Catherine would name something really ridiculous. He sang the chorus of a bawdy song.
If she tried to lowball him, he’d threaten to go to Darcy. And then if she refused to give him a decent amount, he would go to Darcy. He could get some money out of Darcy for providing testimony that his aunt was insane.
Lady Catherine glared at him. “I’ll only give you what I did last time. And you’ll need to give me guarantees you won’t betray me again. I’ll only give you the money once they are married.”
She was pretending at some sort of prudence. Wickham rolled his eyes. “I’ll give you a signed note when you give me the bill on your bankers. I won’t be able to betray you once you have that. And I have the sheet I promised you — a virgin’s bloodstains.”
Lady Catherine glared at him.
Wickham laughed.
Lady Catherine’s eyes went unfocused. “I trust you not.”
“You should not trust me. But I am giving you all of the proofs. I’ll need twice what you paid me last time for it.” Wickham pointed to the small traveling bag he’d brought into the room with him and left by the sofa Lady Catherine now sat on. “It also has a note from Mrs. Young, Georgiana’s companion at the time, which swears she saw me take the girl’s virginity. Everything you need is here. I only need your money.”
The old woman looked greedily from the bag, then to Wickham, and then back at the bag.
Wickham shook his head. “No, no, no. I’ll be able to get it and leave long before you have chance to pull the bell. I’ll go straight to Darcy with the entire story. Just imagine your nephew’s reaction when he knows he is safe. I wonder if he’ll simply leave, or try to seek some sort of revenge. I will tell him that you should be evaluated for Bedlam. There are several other aristocratic ladies stuck in that asylum by relatives who do not like them. And you…you’ve been quite insane of late. I think they might succeed.”
She bared her teeth at him.
“Two thousand pounds — and this.” Wickham held up the hair pin he’d been playing with and put the jewelry box back onto Lady Catherine’s incidental table. “It is quite pretty, and I know just the girl to give it to. I think I can get her to wear it too.”
Lady Catherine spat at him again, the small ball of liquid splashing on the red patterned rug. Wickham raised his eyebrows. “Shall it be Bedlam or shall Darcy be your son-in-law?
”
The fight left Lady Catherine’s eyes; she went to her desk and again pulled out her bank book. Wickham eagerly watched her write out the cheque. He then seized it from her and kissed the paper before carefully having it disappear into his coat. He tossed the riding bag with her proofs to her, and with a laughing bow left the room.
It was rather a pity he’d needed to leave behind those papers, since otherwise he might have tried to come a third time to bilk her. With anyone else even his sense of shame would have rebelled at the prospect of ripping them off a third time, but Lady Catherine… He enjoyed seeing that wild rage at the behavior of a mere steward’s son too much to forgo any opportunity. Perhaps he’d find some later chance to bother her, after Darcy and his ugly bride left Rosings.
Pamela was in the servant’s stairway hallway behind the door. Wickham winked at her. “Did you hear our conversation and now know all about the secret, secretive business between us?”
She shook her head. “The door is corked so servants can’t listen through. It’s like Lady Catherine does not trust us.” She giggled. “I heard that the mistress was quite displeased with you, those sounds penetrated.”
Wickham kissed her, and she let him kiss and paw her for several minutes. A small part of him hoped for a sweaty quick amorous encounter on these stairs or in her room — he would not stay in the proximity of Darcy long enough for a nighttime assignation. Alas, she pushed him away. “Now, now, I am not a very naughty girl.”
“Ahh, but you are a little naughty. And so lovely — there is nothing in creation I wish more than to touch you, and feel your bum and your—”
“Stop that!” She laughed. “Do you say that to all the pretty girls?”
“Of course not. Only to the very prettiest.”
She blushed at the compliment. “I must go back to my duties.”
She started down the stairs; Wickham caught her again and kissed her soundly once more. Then he pulled the hairpin he’d gotten from Lady Catherine out of his pocket. “Please take this.”
She shook her head, with a look of offense in her eyes. “I am not that sort of—”
“No, you misunderstand me. I too should return to London quickly. But I want to give you some little token of this interlude.”
He kissed her again.
She looked hesitatingly at the hair pin. “It looks very fine, it must be expensive.”
Wickham shrugged. “I won it at a game of chance, and I always believe in giving such winnings to the next pretty girl who thoroughly kisses me.”
She laughed.
Wickham took her head and carefully rearranged her hair so that the ornament would fit. “There, you look even more beautiful with my mark — promise me you shall wear it. For me.”
He looked deep into her eyes as he said that. She went pale and then red and nodded breathlessly. “I shall.”
They kissed again. Wickham left the estate with a whistle. It had been a quite pleasant afternoon, even if he would need to use some of the money he still had in his pocket to find a buyable lady in the first town he ran across once he was out of Darcy’s range.
It filled his heart with a joyous song to picture Lady Catherine’s reaction upon seeing her maid wearing the hair pin he’d gotten from her.
Chapter Twelve
Elizabeth stared into the small mirror above the nursery’s fireplace and wondered what to wear. Darcy had convinced Lady Catherine to let her sit at dinner tonight. He had explained to her that he was so bored every night.
It was Darcy’s little game. Elizabeth did not expect it would go well. Anne already thought the worst of her, and Lady Catherine was Lady Catherine. But she could not refuse Darcy’s eagerness to have her company, even though she knew the whole matter would end in tears.
There was a knock on the door, and Pamela entered.
“Miss Bennet! Miss Bennet! A dinner with Lady Catherine! Treating you like a guest for a night. Aren’t you excited? Are you not?”
Pamela hopped with eagerness. Elizabeth paused for a long time. Her feelings were too conflicted for her to enthusiastically agree. “It shall be nice.”
“It must not be such a surprise — you are a gentlewoman, and Mr. Darcy is such a friend of yours. He is sweet on you! Anyone can see that. It is a pity he is to marry Miss de Bourgh. I think Mr. Darcy would marry you, if he didn’t have to marry her!”
“Pamela, that is gossip and speculation, I hope you have not told anyone—”
“Everyone knows it. Don't be such a goose. Do you think we do not talk among ourselves? We all wish you the best. You are such a good woman. I admire you enormously!”
Pamela’s smile was so friendly, and she had no intention to be intrusive.
It made Elizabeth anxious and pale though to think of all the servants gossiping about the flirtation she’d carried on with Mr. Darcy.
But if everyone knows, then there is no need to hide.
“I would not — you know I am a woman of honor, and Mr. Darcy is to be married. Neither of us would—”
“Oh!” Pamela blanched. “Do you think any of us think that? Of course I do not! Gentry never have fun, unless it is boring — do not look at me that way! I am no fool; I know when to stop the men. I do.”
The girl had a firm set to her lip, glaring back with firm eyes that said that while Elizabeth might be a gentlewoman, she would not be scared of her. Pamela’s eyes dared Elizabeth to think that she was anything but the most responsible in her fun with the gentlemen.
Elizabeth quirked a smile. “I have never had much fun, but I can promise you that some gentlewomen do have fun. It is why I must be careful about my reputation.”
There was a confused silence. Then Pamela exclaimed, “I heard that from someone, but I did not believe it. They said your sister had a child with no husband. But, Miss Bennet, you are a perfect lady. Surely your sister—”
“My sister is quite her own woman.” Elizabeth laughed. “You would not expect me to judge Mrs. Shore by you, would you? “
“I am a credit to the family!”
Elizabeth laughed. “You are a credit. But Mrs. Shore is quite boring.”
“She is today, but Papa told me that when she was a girl, she wasn’t such a square ribbon.”
Emma had been listening with an intent expression. She said nibbling on her lip, “You need a ribbon. Lizzy, what shall you wear to the dinner? Your dresses are not nearly so fine as my Mama’s were or as Miss de Bourgh’s though you shall look far better than her!”
“Oh? Shall I?” Elizabeth grabbed Emma and kissed her.
“Yes!” Pamela exclaimed. “Let me help you to dress! But…do you have any dress worth wearing?”
“I still have one dress. It is out of fashion, some four years old, but I did not sell everything after my uncle’s bankruptcy. “
“Let me see it! Let me see it!” Both Emma and Pamela exclaimed at the same time, with equally eager expressions.
They went into Elizabeth’s room, which was quite cramped with three people, and Elizabeth pushed both Emma and Pamela to sit on the bed so she would have room to open up the wardrobe and shuffle through it to find the dress in the bottom which had been carefully wrapped and stored.
It was a fine silk gown, with a lavender color and long sleeves — sleeves that were quite out of the fashion of the present year, though they had been in the mode in the year 1811 when Elizabeth had been younger. There were signs of wear about the edges, but they would only be noticed by a critical eye. As she looked it over, Elizabeth realized this was the dress she’d worn the one night she had danced with Darcy, at the ball at Netherfield.
She doubted he would recognize it, but she wondered if some memory of that dance had been why she had chosen this to be the one dress they did not sell.
“Oooooh!” Pamela exclaimed. “That is out of style, but you will look very well in it.”
“Just as pretty as Mama’s dresses! But it does have that smell from those balls.”
Elizabe
th laughed at Emma.
The three girls then carefully pulled it out, and they opened the window and hung the dress to air it out.
Pamela clapped her hands. “It is only another two hours before you will be called down! You must begin to prepare if you are to be the prettiest!”
“I do not know that I wish to outshine every lady…”
“Of course you do! And you will!”
Elizabeth grinned at the young maid. She was such a kindly creature, even if her character was uncomfortably similar to Lydia’s. “A small part of me would be delighted to outshine other ladies.” It would require a great effort to not outshine Anne.
Elizabeth’s silent petty addition was spoken aloud by Emma. “You are so much prettier than meanie Annie. Mr. Darcy will see you are the prettiest by far!”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and said, more for Pamela’s benefit than Emma’s, “You shouldn’t call your cousin that.”
Emma stuck her nose in the air. “You will look much prettier than ugly Annie.”
Pamela laughed. “You will! Miss Bennet, let me prepare your face and hair. You must let me. You must! If we start now, I can be finished before Lady Catherine calls me up to help her. “
Elizabeth was happy to be a gentlewoman who was served and dressed by a lady’s maid again, even if just for one night. Elizabeth’s room just had a small wash basin and mirror. Elizabeth stripped out of her outerclothes and sat on the bed in a chemise while Pamela released Elizabeth’s hair so that it fell in long waves past her shoulders. Pamela began to braid it.
“It is a pity we do not have a day so there is no time to put your hair into curls. You would look quite the mode then.”
Emma watched the procedure with intense interest. “Miss Lizzy doesn’t need to look in the mode to be the most beautiful.”
“Thank you, dear. I quite agree.”
Pamela argued back, “Miss Bennet is so beautiful she should look her best.”
“Mama said fashion was quite arbitrary. Miss Lizzy looks very handsome with her hair this way — besides it shall be Cousin Anne who she must look better than. Miss Lizzy could dress in anything and do that.”
The Trials: A Pride and Prejudice Story Page 10