Chapter 11
HIS INNERMOST THOUGHTS
brIGHTON, ENGLAND
George Wickham halted his hurried steps to admire his reflection in the shop window. Removing his hat, he brushed his long fingers through his hair. How handsome he supposed himself donning his regimentals, even though he knew that soon enough he would have no such need of his uniform.
While putting his hat on again, Wickham could not help but congratulate himself as he entertained happy thoughts on his recent change in luck, specifically the windfall that had practically fallen into his lap.
How fortunate it was for him that the only thing that had been asked of him was to sully the reputation of a young woman.
Even better was the fact that the girl was the youngest sister of the one woman in the world who might truly have meant something to him.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn Village in Hertfordshire. The notion of everything he had given up all those months ago was never far from his innermost thoughts.
If only I had not lost sight of my aching desire to claim Elizabeth as my own by abruptly pursuing Mary King.
He threw a reflective glance over the hours he had spent on that failed courtship.
What a waste of my time, not to mention the deprivation wrought on all the young ladies longing for my favors.
In hindsight, he knew he would not have changed a thing.
That young woman’s recent inheritance of ten thousand pounds in combination with the manner in which she threw herself in my path was simply too powerful a temptation to resist. In the end, his efforts had been for naught for she was forced to move to Liverpool to live with her uncle, thereby thwarting Wickham’s chances of controlling her fortune by marrying her.
Wickham gleefully contemplated the sizeable fortune that had recently found its way to him. It was far less than Mary King’s inheritance, but it served his needs quite adequately. He could finally make something of himself and live in a manner more befitting the life he was meant to live.
Puffing out his chest, he grinned all over. Where was it that I read that lightning does not strike twice in the same place?
What a bright future awaited him. First things first, he reminded himself, for I must persuade that silly Bennet girl to run away with me.
Once I have sufficiently ruined her, I shall abandon her by the wayside.
Then I shall place myself in the path of a young heiress who is truly worthy of my attention—preferably one with a light and pleasing figure, a healthy measure of wit and charm, and the most amazing dark eyes one has ever seen.
The very thought of Elizabeth sent a surge of desire coursing through his body and a bounce in his step as he quickened his pace on the way to his clandestine meeting with her youngest sister.
Finding the wild young lady eagerly waiting for him in the appointed place, he hurriedly stole away with her under the guise of escorting her back to the Forsters’ home.
The desire to satiate his yearning for her older sister fueled his longing and, in no time at all, the silly girl was in his arms. Young Lydia Bennet twisted her head to the side, purposely evading the intended brush of his lips against hers.
What an unabashed flirt this one is, Wickham considered.
Never before had he encountered a girl as wild as this one, so eager to flaunt her feminine wiles before every man who gave her the slightest bit of attention and so deft at working him into such a frenzy of unrequited lust. The dark-haired minx had a body that belied her tender age of sixteen, and his desire to have his way with her was immeasurable.
“It is just the two of us, Lydia. You promised me tonight would be the night. I chose this spot especially for this moment, knowing that no one would find us here.”
“I—I think I have changed my mind.”
“What are you saying?” Wickham asked, refusing to release her from his embrace despite her feeble attempts to pull away.
“A girl must always reserve the liberty of changing her mind. Indeed, I have been giving this matter quite a bit of thought, and I have decided I ought to wait until after we are married. I know very well that none of my sisters have any real prospects and thus I shall be the first to be married.”
Tired of her excuses, he covered her mouth with his with great passion. A soft moan escaped her. Then another. At length, she tore her swollen lips away.
“You do intend to marry me, do you not?”
Wickham blew a frustrated breath deep down inside. Does this silly little chit ever think of anything else? As though I would ever settle for someone as uncouth as her. Think of the money, he reminded himself. Think of Elizabeth.
“Lydia, my dear,” he gently pleaded, “allow me to do with you what I will tonight—what you and I have been longing to do for days—and I shall carry you off to Scotland tomorrow, and we will be married in Gretna Green,” he urged, positioning her against the wall, slowly lifting her skirt to receive him.
His words made her wiggle in delight. “Oh, Wickham! Do you promise? I should like nothing more than to be married before my sisters.”
“You shall have your wish, my dear. Tomorrow. Tonight, I must have mine.” Covering her mouth with his once again to silence her girlish exultations, he commenced satisfying his urgent desire.
At length, Lydia’s inhalations intermingled with Wickham’s deep exhalations.
Holding nothing back, he congratulated himself on the ease of his conquest. What did it matter to him if there were consequences?
He prided himself on doing nothing by halves.
Besides, he would be rid of her long before such evidence manifested itself.
Soon enough, Lydia Bennet will be someone else’s problem.