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Story
II - A Most Deserving Couple
(Author's Note:
In this Pride & Prejudice variation, things are not
what they seem, especially in Ramsgate. Not quite Regency, but
I think you'll forgive me.)
Fitzwilliam Darcy,
an erstwhile knight errant, walked the evening streets of a most
disreputable section of London, looking for a particular boarding
house. With him were two burley footmen, for once not dressed
in Darcy livery. At a corner, he checked the slip of paper in
his hand again. The few words scribbled upon it in Mrs. Younge's
crabbed hand had cost him a gold sovereign. Satisfied that the
directions were complete, he waved his men on. The three entered
a run-down public house and strode directly to the barkeep.
"My man,"
Darcy said without preamble, "I am looking for George Wickham.
He should be with a young woman. I have reason to know that he
is here. Which room is he in?"
The man, wiping
a glass with a filthy towel, scowled at the well-dressed gentleman.
"Be your name Darcy, guv'nor?"
Darcy hid his astonishment
at being recognized. "I am Mr. Darcy," he replied in
a frosty tone.
The barkeep returned
to his task. "Room six, at the top o' th'stairs."
Darcy placed a shilling
on the bar and the small group ascended the stairs. Darcy quickly
found the room and rapped on it with the head of his cane-a cane
that concealed a thin sword.
"Wickham! Wickham!
Open up, I say!"
The two footmen
crowded close to the door as they heard noises from within. Suddenly,
the door opened.
"Darcy! You
finally got here!" cried George Wickham.
Having ordered his
footmen to stand guard outside, Darcy entered the small room
at Wickham's invitation. Stepping over an empty wine bottle and
some discarded clothing, Darcy eased himself into the rather
rickety chair. "All right, Wickham," he began, "I
will not mince words. I have come for Miss Lydia Bennet. Produce
her immediately."
"Here-who are
you to order me about?" Wickham cried. "My wife is
no concern of yours."
"Wickham, I
warn you-I beg your pardon? Did you say wife?"
"I did."
"You are married?"
"Yes."
"To Miss Lydia
Bennet?"
Wickham grinned.
"I'll say!"
Darcy thought for
a moment, then scowled. "It cannot be a real wedding. You
had not the time for the bans to be read or to go to Scotland,
and you don't have the money to purchase a special license!"
Wickham looked abashed.
"Well…that's true. But it's not because of lack of
trying! Lydia's my wife, and there's an end to it!"
"What did you
do?"
"You see, there's
this gent I know near the Thames. Captain of a riverboat…"
"Wickham! A
riverboat captain cannot perform a marriage!"
"Why not? A
ship's captain can! We rowed right offshore-did it right. Damn
near capsized, we did!"
Darcy put a hand
to his face. "Wickham, it is not the same."
"Well, maybe
not in a strictly legal parlance-"
"That is the
only parlance that counts!"
"Well, what
else could we do? Denny took all my money!"
"What?"
"I really was
trying to do things right this time, Darcy. No more drinkin'
or gamblin. I was saving my money so's we could get married,
proper-like."
"Wickham, why
are you speaking in that Cockney manner? You are not an East
Ender, you're from Derbyshire."
"Oh! Ha! I
suppose I have been around the docks too much lately. You know
my ear for accents. I will attempt to refrain from offending
your sensibilities, Darcy. To continue, Denny found out and threatened
to write to Mr. Bennet. I had to pay him off."
Darcy shook his
head in confusion. "Perhaps you should start at the beginning."
"Very well.
You see, Lydia and I…"
"Hold on, Wickham.
Where is Miss Lydia?"
"That's Mrs.
Wickham to you, sir!"
"Wickham…!"
Wickham sighed.
"She out delivering hats to a shop a couple of streets away."
"Hats?"
"Bonnets, actually.
She's very good, and we need the money. She should be back within
the hour."
"Are you saying
Miss L… urr, she's making bonnets for sale?"
"Yes. The first
ones she made were old ones fixed up with scraps of cloth from
an old dress. We took the money from them to buy more cheap plain
bonnets and cloth."
"Indeed?"
"Our inventory
and raw materials are in the closet there. Care for a look?"
"That's all
right. I believe you."
"It is no trouble.
You ought to see this blue pattern we found. Very sharp - it
should fetch a pretty penny."
"Wickham, let
us get back to the story."
"Oh, very well.
I had not been long in Hertfordshire before I found I fancied
Miss Lydia Bennet above any other lady of my acquaintance. But
me, a poor lieutenant of militia-how could I afford to marry
her? There was no way Mr. Bennet would approve. I thought things
were hopeless."
"Wait. You
liked Miss Lydia? Then how do you explain your attentions to
Mary King?"
"That little
freckled thing? That was only about the money. But after a while,
even her ten thousand was not anywhere near enough for me to
put up with her any more. But she was fixated on me, so I had
to extract myself."
"How did you
do that?"
"Who do you
think wrote to her uncle? Worked like a dream."
Darcy grew grim.
"I see. Ten thousand was not enough, but thirty thousand-"
Wickham hung his
head sheepishly. "Uhh, Darce, it was not quite like that…"
"What do you
mean?"
"Really, I
had very little to do with all that-"
"Do not lie
to me!" Darcy thundered. "You tried to seduce my sister!"
"Darcy, keep
your voice down!" Wickham cried. "Do you want
to ruin Georgie's reputation?"
"That is fine,
coming from you," Darcy responded, but in a quieter voice.
"Darce, you
do not understand. That was all Mrs. Younge's idea. And…you
are not going to like this…"
"Like what?"
"I'm telling
the truth…"
"Tell me!"
"Georgie was
in on it."
"WHAT!?"
Darcy leapt to his feet, almost overturning the table between
them.
"DON'T HIT
ME! LET ME EXPLAIN! Sit down, please!"
"I will NOT
ALLOW you to defame my sister!"
Wickham was begging.
"Just listen to me first! If you do not believe me, you
can have the first punch."
Darcy, his face
dark, sat back down.
"The whole
idea was Mrs. Younge's. She wanted to get her hands on Georgiana's
money, and figured I would be the tool to extract it. She convinced
Georgie that I was destitute and that the way to get you to give
me money was to pretend to run away with me. But what Younge
really had in mind was a real marriage. That way she would control
Georgie's money through me."
"Wickham, that
makes no sense! How would she control the money through you?"
"She was to
be my mistress."
Darcy thought about
that. "Oh God, you were sleeping with Mrs. Younge?"
Wickham nodded guiltily. "So you were going to have both
of them?"
This time, Wickham
leapt to his feet. "YOU TAKE THAT BACK!"
"Pardon me?"
"You take back
that part about Georgie and me! That is just sick!"
"You…you
were not after Georgiana?"
"You sick bastard!
She is like a sister to me! Ugh!"
"Then…then
why did you say that you were?"
"Because it
was part of the plan to get some money from you. We did not know
until the last moment that Younge had her own game going."
"How can I
believe you?"
"Who do you
think wrote to you about traveling to Ramsgate?"
"You…you
know about that? No one knows about that note!"
"Except the
person that wrote it."
"Then…then
why was Georgie so upset?"
"You were so
angry, and Mrs. Younge proved to be so wicked. Is there any wonder
she took the blame onto herself? You are not the only Darcy with
an over-developed sense of honor!"
Darcy simply sat
there, absorbing all that he had learned. "So, you say you
were not trying to seduce Georgie."
"Right."
"But you were
trying to get more money from me."
"Yes…Oh,
come on, Darce! I was hungry!"
"That is no
excuse."
Wickham shrugged.
"Younge was worse."
Darcy sighed. "Let
us return to Lydia. Why did you blacken my name in Meryton?"
"Well, I thought
that if everybody felt sorry for me, it would ease my way into
Meryton society. You must admit you did not do yourself any favors
during your time in the neighborhood. If you would have danced
with a few of the local girls, you would have been the toast
of the village! I would not have had a chance!"
Darcy winced. That
was too close for comfort to what Miss Elizabeth had said back
in Hunsford.
"So, all the
time you were in Meryton, you were pining for Miss Lydia?"
"That's so.
But I thought I had no chance. But Providence smiled me when
Mrs. Forster invited Lydia to travel to Brighton with us! For
a month I courted her, meeting secretly and in public, often
right underneath Mrs. Forster's nose. All the while I was trying
to raise the funds to be able to ask Mr. Bennet for Lydia. Then
everything went wrong."
"Denny."
Wickham nodded.
"Yes, he was part of it. But the main difficulty was Mrs.
Forster."
"Why? Did she
discover you?"
"No. She wanted
me for herself."
Darcy groaned, "Oh,
good lord!"
Wickham raised his
hand helplessly. "I cannot be held responsible for that!
Women throw themselves at me. You remember what it was like at
university."
"You could
have said no."
"Sure,
I could," Wickham said dismissively.
"I did."
Wickham gave his
old childhood friend a sideways glance. "Humph. I'll bet
you're gay."
"Hardly."
Wickham narrowed
his eyes. "You are not as upset as I thought you would be-me
questioning your sexuality. Are you getting some?"
Darcy started. "Wickham!"
"Sweet on someone,
then. Who? Let me think."
"Wickham-"
Darcy said dangerously.
"Not that Bingley
bitch…I know! Miss Elizabeth Bennet!"
"Wickham, stop
it!"
"Now it makes
sense why you have shown so much interest in the Bennets. I thought
there was something there. Good choice, old boy!"
Darcy pounded the
table with a fist. "Wickham, I will not stand for you making
untoward statements about-what was that?"
"Let me tell
you, old chum, when it comes to pleasure, if Miss Elizabeth is
anything like her sister, well…let us just say you have
a happy life before you!"
Darcy was both offended
and intrigued by Wickham's words. Curiosity won out. "I
do not understand your meaning."
"Are you sure
you're not gay?"
"Damnit Wickham!
Tell me what you mean!"
"Darcy, I am
no stranger to a woman's bed. But I have NEVER been with anyone
like my Lydie!"
"Lydie?"
"Yes. So many
curves where a man might find comfort. Always ready for a romp.
A quick learner, and able to come up with some interesting
ideas of her own! And that mouth of hers! Good for something
other than talking, if you catch my meaning."
"I am…not
sure…"
Wickham sat back,
disgusted. "Ah, you should have gone to the brothels while
at Cambridge, like I told you!"
Darcy got it. "Wickham,
you are no gentleman."
"Yes, I'm well
aware of that. Fortunately, Lydie's no gentle-lady in the boudoir,
thank goodness! I'm in love!"
"In love!"
Darcy repeated derisively. Catching Wickham's look, he grew amazed.
"Are you in earnest?"
"Yes! I know,
I know! I can hardly believe it myself. But it is true. Lydie's
a female version of me!"
At that moment,
the door to the room opened, and in bounced a short, buxom girl
in a dress that had seen better days. "Wicky!" she
cried. "Wicky! Guess how much-Mr. Darcy! What a surprise!"
Darcy got to his
feet and gave the girl a short bow. "Good evening, Miss
Lydia."
She presented her
hand with a smile. "No, Mr. Darcy. I am Mrs. Wickham, now!
Wicky, have you not told him?"
Wickham gave his
bride a discreet peck on the cheek. "I did, my pet, but
my old friend did not believe me."
Lydia tried to give
Darcy a stern look, but her giggles spoiled her performance.
"Dear Wickham and I married almost a fortnight ago, Mr.
Darcy. We have the certificate, if you would care to see it."
Darcy gave in to
the girl's delusion. "Forgive me, Mrs. Wickham. Your husband
indeed gave me details of your…wedding."
"It is too
bad you could not be there, but the boat was so small! That is
why I could not invite my sisters. Wicky, did you not offer Mr.
Darcy any refreshments?" She turned to Darcy. "Forgive
us, sir. I will be right back!" To her husband, she said,
"Here is the money from the shop, dear."
Wickham laughed
as he took the shelf of notes. "Twenty pounds! You're a
wonder!"
"There is more
where that came from, but we will have to get to work!"
Lydia advised him. "I will be just a moment, Mr. Darcy."
With that, Lydia went into a back room. Meanwhile, her common-law
husband put the money in a lockbox near the table.
"Twenty pounds
just for bonnets?" Darcy asked in wonder.
"Hah! You have
not priced ladies goods lately, have you?" Wickham smiled.
"The secret is good materials and a French name. Chapeaux
de Mme. Minou - ladies will pay extra for something French,
you know."
"'Hats by Miss
Pussycat?'"
"You know that,
and I know that. But they do not know that, or they do not care!"
A headache was starting
just behind Darcy's right eye when Lydia returned with a tray.
"Here. It is not much, but I hope you will like it."
She put the tray of biscuits on the table. "I will pop down
for the tea. Won't be a minute!" She blew a kiss to Wickham
and left through the main door.
Wickham grinned.
"Try some o' this, old boy!" he said as he handed a
biscuit to Darcy. Never had Darcy put something so delicious
in his mouth. His obvious pleasure drew a laugh from his companion.
"Not bad, eh? Now do you understand? She can cook, she can
fuck, and she makes more money than she spends! What more can
you ask from a wife, eh?"
Darcy cleared his
throat. "Intelligent conversation?"
"Overrated
in my opinion, especially since Lydie has other talents her tongue
is better suited for, like-"
"I really DO
NOT need to know, Wickham!" Darcy collected himself. "The
point remains that you are not legally married!"
"Yes, I know.
But that is where you come in. You can help us-front the cash
so we can get a special license. Maybe be a silent investor in
Chapeaux de Mme. Minou. We certainly can use the capital."
"You expect
me to help?"
"Darcy, come
on. Help a fellow out. Besides, we will give you part ownership
in the business. You will make a tidy profit, you'll see."
"You really
think this venture will make enough to support both of you?"
"Well, we hope
so. If we can expand the market, we might be able to gross two
hundred a month."
Darcy's business
mind mulled over the figures. "That is not net. You will
need outside income to cover your living expenses. What will
you do?"
Wickham sighed.
"It is a shame about the militia. I rather fancied the military
life. The discipline was good for me, and the red coat really
got Lydie's juices going-"
"Too much information,
Wickham! All right, here is my offer-I will pay for your special
license, get you a commission in the regulars, pay off any debts
you have left, and make an investment in the business. I will
cover a year's worth of fabrics from Lydia's uncle, Mr. Gardiner.
How's that?"
"Splendid!
Umm, do you think you can get us in a regiment some distance
from Hertfordshire? Mrs. Bennet is a bad influence on Lydia."
I have gone insane, Darcy thought. "I can make no
promises. Colonel Fitzwilliam might be able to help."
"Excellent!"
Wickham reached into the lockbox and removed a bottle of brandy.
"Been saving this for a celebration, and this is as good
a reason as any!" He got two rather clean glasses and filled
them. Handing one to Darcy, he said, "You know, if you get
off your high horse and marry Lizzy, we will finally be brothers!
Here's to the Bennet ladies!"
Darcy returned the
toast and threw back the drink. "Ow, but that is good stuff!"
He leaned forward. "Now, before your wife gets back, what's
that about the Bennet girls being talented?"
The End
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