Chapter Three
Meryton Village
Wickham stepped down from the post coach, grateful to be on solid ground once more. His journey from Ramsgate had been long; he was tired of being jostled about in a coach and wished nothing more than to be at his new lodgings, resting from his travels.
He gazed about the bustling market town as the coachman unloaded his trunks. People strolled the streets and a very great number of redcoats milled about as well. A militia company must be stationed here, he mused. Well, that would provide some diversion.
Mr. Phillips had given his direction in his last letter, which Wickham consulted. As he perused the letter, he was startled to hear his name.
“George Wickham, as I live and breathe!” said a scarlet-coated officer approaching from across the street.
“Denny!” cried Wickham in reply. He had met the young soldier briefly at university, but it had been some time since they were last in one another’s company. “What a pleasant surprise! I never would have guessed I should encounter anyone I knew here.”
“And you are the last man I would have supposed I would meet,” Denny replied with a laugh. “Whatever brings you to this insignificant corner of the kingdom?”
“I have taken a position as a clerk with a man named Mr. Phillips,” Wickham replied. “Do you happen to know where I might hire a wagon to transport my belongings?”
Before Denny could answer, there was a shout from the lane. “Denny!” came a shrill female voice. The pair turned and watched as a group of young ladies approached. They were trailed by yet another lady and a tall, awkward-looking gentleman.
“Denny!” the young lady cried again as they neared.
“Miss Lydia,” Denny said cordially. “How are you today?”
“Lydia!” hissed a soberly dressed girl. “A proper young lady does not shout in public! Nor does she approach a gentleman. It is the gentleman’s prerogative -”
“Oh hush, Mary,” said Lydia. “Denny does not mind, do you Denny?” The young lady batted her eyelashes in what George imagined was supposed to be a flirtatious way.
Denny shuffled awkwardly but shook his head slightly in response.
“Will you not introduce us to your friend?” Lydia said.
“Of course,” Denny said congenially. “Miss Lydia, Miss Mary, may I present -”
This time it was Denny that was cut off. “George Wickham, I can scarcely believe my eyes! Is it truly you?”
The rest of the party had reached Denny and Wickham, and the awkward looking fellow among them was the one speaking.
“Collins!” Wickham was shocked to see his old roommate with the gaggle of young ladies. “What an unexpected surprise!” Really, thought Wickham. Meeting two acquaintances in such a small and out of the way place? What are the odds?
Collins shook his hand firmly. “I cannot tell you what an absolute pleasure it is to find you in Meryton,” he said enthusiastically. “Why, when I decided to visit my cousin Bennet, such a wondrous occasion never even crossed my mind.”
Wickham observed Mr. Collins during his speech.
He was pleased to note that the hygiene lessons from years past seemed to have stuck.
Collins was fairly well groomed and carried himself with more pride than he had in the past. As he continued talking, Wickham was forced to note that some things were much the same. Collins was verbose as ever.
“Collins, would you do me the honor of introducing me to the rest of your party?” Wickham asked, if only to stop the unceasing flow from his old friend’s mouth.
“Oh, of course, of course. Please allow me to introduce my fair cousins to you. This is Miss Jane Bennet and her sisters, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, Miss Catherine, and Miss Lydia. Ladies, my friend from my time at Cambridge, Mr. George Wickham.” The ladies curtseyed politely.
Lydia piped up again. “Are you here to join the militia, Mr. Wickham? I have no doubt you would look most dashing in a red coat!”
“No, Miss Lydia, I am not,” he replied. “I have come to take other employment.” Once again, he found himself explaining his purpose for being in Meryton. It was Miss Elizabeth who responded to the name of his employer.
“Mr. Phillips is my uncle, Mr. Wickham,” she said enthusiastically. “I had heard he was to hire a new clerk. You are very welcome, indeed!
“Perhaps we might escort you to his offices?” Miss Lydia asked with a giggle. “We are to have tea with my aunt in an hour or so, and a man as handsome of you should join us.”
Wickham agreed thankfully. As Mr. Phillips was not expecting him for a while yet, George saw no reason not to accept the offer.
A wagon was hired to transport his belongings and in short order was dispatched to the Philip’s home, which was adjoining the solicitor’s office.
If Wickham thought the surprises of the day were over, he was disabused of that notion with the approach of two riders.
“Miss Bennet!” a voice called out. “We were just on our way to Longbourn to inquire after your health.”
Wickham turned and noted a blond gentleman dismounting from a fabulous bay. The rider on the other horse was Fitzwilliam Darcy. Darcy noted him quickly, his face freezing before his emotions were shuttered.
Both men approached the party, the blond man going almost immediately to the eldest Miss Bennet’s side. The lady’s eyes twinkled with pleasure at his attention.
“Darcy,” Wickham greeted his friend. “What a pleasure to see you! It seems today is a day for renewing old acquaintances.”
“Indeed,” was Darcy’s near-glacial response.
Wickham could sense his friend’s the unspoken desire to meet privately.
“I find myself in need of some refreshment after my long coach ride,” Wickham said. “Perhaps you would like to join me, Darcy? I am not expected at the Phillips’ for a time.”
Darcy agreed and it was arranged with the Bennet ladies for Wickham to meet them by the haberdashery in an hour so they might all attend tea with the Phillips.
Darcy and Wickham entered the inn, where Darcy promptly requested the use of a private parlor. Once they were ensconced within, his friend was quick to come to his point.
“How much?” he demanded.
Wickham was caught entirely off-guard and was quite confused. “What do you mean, Darcy?”
“It cannot be coincidence that I find you here after the events of this summer.” Darcy’s voice was cold and hard. “How much do you wish for your silence about Georgiana’s folly?”
“So, this is truly what you think of me. Thank you for explaining so fully. Did it not occur to you that if I wanted money for my silence, I would have demanded it at Ramsgate? I told you then that Georgiana was as a sister to me. I was not prevaricating.”
“How am I to believe you?” demanded Darcy. “At Cambridge - “
“Really, Darcy? Cambridge again? You and I were at Cambridge together for three years. I freely admit that during the first two years, I was on a path of self-destruction, but I changed. After my father died, I set my feet back on the right path.”
“Did you? What of the compensation for the Kympton living? Does ignoring my father’s wishes and bequest put you back on the right path?”
“I was being honest when I told you the church did not suit me. I tried. For two years, I tried to like it, to force myself in that direction. Making sermons really was not the right fit for me, no matter how much I wished it to be. I followed my own father’s advice and turned toward studying the law. It has been a near perfect fit.”
Darcy appeared skeptical, but no longer stubbornly in denial. “You really were working as a clerk in Ramsgate?” he asked.
Wickham nodded.
“Then what on Earth are you doing in Meryton?”
“I told you at Ramsgate that I had taken another position. That position is in Meryton. I have been taken on by Mr. Phillips, a solicitor here in the village.”
Darcy nodded slowly. “I am familiar with the man,” he admitted reluctantly. “I suppose I ought to wish you the best of luck with your employment.”
“I thank you,” Wickham said. He looked at his old friend.
He was much changed, even since Ramsgate.
There were hard lines around his mouth and his forehead was creased with anxiety.
He seemed more suspicious than Wickham recalled him being in the past, and Darcy simply did not look happy.
Wickham wondered… did he dare ask his friend to confide in him? He decided to take the chance.
“Darcy,” he hesitatingly said. “I would ask you to speak to me. To trust me with your burdens. I can see them weighing on you. I know we have been distant these last years, but I would be your friend once more, if you would let me.”
He had said the right thing. Though George did not know it, Darcy’s desire for their friendship to be what it was before was rivaled his own. Darcy’s head dropped into his hands, and he sighed deeply.
“Where do I even begin?” Darcy’s voice was bitter and sad.
“The pressures of the estate, society’s expectations, the pursuit of every lady in existence, be they eligible or not…
I simply do not have the desire, nay, the will to go on.
No one sees me. They see my ten thousand a year and my house in town, but they ignore the man.
And now Georgiana’s near disgrace? It is all too much. ”
“Might I ask… why was Georgiana in Ramsgate with only a companion? I would not have thought her old enough to be on her own.”
Darcy sighed. “She was in school until December of last year. When she came home for the Christmas season, she was… changed. She carried herself with her nose in the air, speaking harshly to the servants and acting as if she were the queen. Truly, she was so altered after only 2 terms in school that I felt it imperative to remove her from the influence of the snobbish girls she was emulating. I found her a companion and she seemed to return to her usual self after that. Given her improvements, I was convinced of the benefits of a holiday by the sea. The rest you already know.”
“Is she much affected by her time in Ramsgate?” Wickham asked.