Chapter 19
When Georgiana heard that Mr. Wickham was locked up and would be tried for attacking a lady, she jumped for joy on the inside. Not that she was happy for whoever had been attacked, but she couldn’t help being gleeful that Mr. Wickham was no longer free to affect her life in any way.
She would no longer need to remain indoors all the time. She could ride her horse or even go walking in the garden. She hoped that she could go shopping in Meryton with Kitty and Lydia.
The day after she learned of his incarceration, Georgiana joined her brother in his visit to Longbourn, just as she had done nearly every day since arriving in the neighborhood.
This time, however, it was with a much lighter heart.
She hoped to be able to invite her friends on a shopping excursion the following day.
When they arrived, Fitzwilliam went straight to Miss Elizabeth, and Mr. Masters went straight to Miss Bennet. Of course, she went over to where her friends, Kitty and Lydia were sitting.
Kitty had a sketchbook out, and Lydia looked as though she was embroidering a new reticule. “Good morning,” she said. After they returned her greeting she asked, “May I see what you are working on?”
“I was just sketching ideas for a painted table, but I haven’t come up with anything I would actually want to paint,” said Kitty. “What do you think is better on a table, flowers or a landscape?”
“I have only ever painted one once,” replied Georgiana. “It was at school, and our painting master told us what to paint, which was flowers. I have seen tables that my mother painted, however, and every single one is different. She even painted her favorite horse on one.”
“That sounds as though it could be quite lovely,” said Kitty. “But I have never been able to draw horses accurately. No matter how I try, their necks never look quite right.”
“That is why I don’t even try to draw,” said Lydia. “I much prefer embroidery. Most of the time, I simply copy what someone else has done, but even when I come up with my own pictures, no one expects embroidery to be a faithful representation. It only needs to be recognizable.”
Georgiana looked over at Lydia’s project to see what she was embroidering. It was simple enough, just a row of tiny flowers just under the drawstring.
“But enough about that,” continued Lydia. “Have you heard the news that poor Wickham is to be sent away? Banished from the army and tried for attacking a lady. It must be slander. He is all goodness and kindness, and he is so handsome. I simply can’t believe he would have done such a thing.”
“I have heard it, and I can’t help but say that I was pleased at the news,” said Georgiana. Despite Lydia’s glare of disagreement, she bravely continued. “I can well believe that man could behave in such a way.”
“How would you know anything about him?” asked Lydia accusingly. “You haven’t even met him or any other of the officers.”
“You are correct that I haven’t met the officers, but Mr. Wickham is my father’s godson.
I can say with certainty that he has nearly eloped with a fifteen-year-old girl he didn’t even like just to get his hands on her dowry.
I can also say that my brother has had to pay his debts repeatedly, because Mr. Wickham is in the habit of spending more than he has. ”
Despite Lydia’s skeptical looks, Georgiana remained firm in her expression and her bearing, but it was difficult. She had never been particularly assertive, and her experience with Mr. Wickham this past summer had shattered what little confidence she had.
Now, she had found two new friends, who would hopefully be her sisters someday soon, and she didn’t want to lose them. Even more than that, however, she did not want them to make the same error she had, that of mistaking excitement for love.
Lydia was not convinced. “You have told us many times that you are not allowed to do many things and that you have made no friends since leaving school in May. You simply can’t know that much about Mr. Wickham.
Anything you know about him must have come from your brother, and everyone knows Mr. Darcy hates Mr. Wickham. ”
Lydia’s assertions forcefully brought back memories of Georgiana doing the exact same thing.
When she had told her brother about her engagement to Mr. Wickham, and Fitzwilliam had tried to tell her how very bad Mr. Wickham was.
Georgiana had refused to believe him, attempting to excuse any accusation Fitzwilliam made by declaring it must be a misunderstanding.
Mr. Wickham was so charming, so good, that he couldn’t possibly be as bad as Fitzwilliam said.
In the end, the only thing that convinced Georgiana was Mr. Wickham’s own words as he left the house after having been forcefully informed that there was no engagement and that there never would be.
Fitzwilliam had already shoved him into the hall and towards the front door. Even so, Georgiana distinctly heard him say, “I suppose it’s just as well. She is so boring, I was beginning to think that being stuck with her might not be worth it after all.”
Georgiana’s world had crashed down around her as she heard the distinct sound of Fitzwilliam hitting Mr. Wickham.
More than anything, Georgiana did not want her new friends to have to experience such a thing. The desire to protect them, to teach them a valuable lesson that would hopefully help them find a respectable husband rather than a rake, steeled her spine.
“I know, because the lady he attempted to elope with was me,” she said. Saying it out loud was so terrifying that she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking.
Kitty seemed to notice her distress, and her expression showed both surprise and sympathy.
Lydia, however, said, “Oh, that’s so romantic! I assume your brother stepped in and ruined it all, but imagine how it would have been had he not done so. You could have escaped to Gretna Green and been married over the anvil, flouting the world that tried to keep you apart.”
“My brother did step in,” said Georgiana, “and he did prevent the marriage, but I assure you that in the end I was glad he did.
As Mr. Wickham left, he made it clear that he disliked me intensely and that he had only been pretending all along.
That man is a snake, capable of saying or doing anything to make himself appear to be what you want him to be.
In reality, he cares nothing for anyone but himself.
“If I had succeeded in eloping, I would have been the farthest thing from happy a woman can be. He would have taken my money, which would rightfully belong to him, and he probably would have abandoned me somewhere so he could live the way he wanted. Even if he hadn’t abandoned me physically, he certainly wouldn’t have loved me the way I thought he did.
“Though my brother tends to shelter me a great deal, my other guardian, Colonel Fitzwilliam, has told me much more about the kind of mischief and misbehavior Mr. Wickham has been involved in. I can only say, with absolute certainty, that I am glad I never married him. I am glad he has been locked up. I can well believe he has done what he is being tried for, and I hope that he is convicted and sent to Australia.”
As Georgiana made her long speech, Kitty’s expression grew even more sympathetic. When she was done speaking, Kitty reached out and took her hand, squeezing it to offer reassurance. Georgiana was grateful, but she was most concerned for Lydia’s reaction.
At first Lydia maintained her stubborn expression, but within a few seconds doubt showed through. She asked, “What did he say when he left that changed your opinion of him?”
“He said that I was so boring that I wasn’t worth marrying, not even for my dowry, which is thirty thousand pounds,” Georgiana said.
Even now, when she thought she had mostly recovered from the ordeal, saying it out loud brought tears to her eyes and made her throat tight.
“Imagine being told that being with you was so unpleasant that no one would want to do it, not even for a fortune. And all the time he felt that way, he had seemed to be charming, kind, solicitous. Until that moment, I truly believed he loved me.”
For several long moments, none of them said anything. Kitty and Lydia simply stared at her.
The silence was broken when Lydia said, “I wonder if you can help me think of a new design for a purse I wish to make. Here, Kitty, let me borrow your sketchbook, so that I can show Georgiana my idea and get her opinion on how to make it better.”
Kitty willingly handed over her sketchbook.
While Lydia was drawing, Kitty quietly said to Georgiana, “Lydia can never admit when she is wrong right away, but I believe you have helped both of us with your warning. Thank you for telling us such a difficult tale, and I am sorry you had to go through it.”
“If it helped, it was worth it,” said Georgiana.