Page 10 of Brighton Rescue (Pride and Prejudice Variation #23)
“My dear Miss Lydia, you are an excellent dancer! I have rarely enjoyed a set so much,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said, looking down into the girl’s sparkling eyes.
“Why thank you, Colonel!” Lydia answered happily. “I simply adore dancing, especially with a fine military man like yourself.”
“I am honored that you think so highly of a man in a red coat,” the earl’s son responded, managing a slight bow in the midst of their movement in the dance. “Many a young lady is more interested in a rich, landed gentleman like my cousin Darcy than a soldier like myself.”
“Oh, I am not like that at all!” Lydia exclaimed. “I cannot understand any girl preferring Mr. Darcy to you, Colonel Fitzwilliam. He is so stern and distant, whereas you are a cheerful man with such wonderful manners, and your father is an earl!”
“Thank you,” the colonel responded with a warm smile.
“Is Mr. Darcy here tonight? And my sister Elizabeth?”
“No, I fear my cousin is rarely interested in public assemblies, and your sister is spending this evening with Lady Amelia and her son. I find I cannot repine, as this allows me to spend additional time with you.”
Lydia simpered at these words while Fitzwilliam looked down on her with something akin to astonishment.
He was being absurd; no son of an earl would drool so idiotically over an impoverished daughter of a country gentleman.
It was clear that the girl did not understand traditional society, nor did she understand true breeding.
He felt a brief stab of compunction at his methods, which quickly melted away.
He was overtly flattering the young woman for her own benefit, and the benefit of her sisters and family.
For that matter, his own aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Rosings, was used to her underlings and dependents figuratively groveling in her presence.
If a lady of some fifty odd years could be foolish enough to believe the honeyed words of her retainers, why should Miss Lydia wonder at his own charming speeches?
He cleared his throat and said, “I did wish to inquire whether you believe you will be free to attend a party in the near future, Miss Lydia, at the Marine Pavilion.”
Lydia was so startled that she almost missed her step. “The Marine Pavilion, sir?” she demanded in awe. “Where the Prince Regent stays when he is in Brighton?”
“Yes, precisely. Prinny is back in Brighton as of three days ago and he always likes meeting new people, especially lovely young ladies. I do not yet know the date of the party, of course, but I suspect we will be invited in the next week.”
“Are you … are you truly serious?” the girl asked, suddenly looking much younger. “Might I truly meet the Prince Regent himself?”
“Of course I am serious! Lady Amelia Hartford, with whom I am staying, is a long standing resident of Brighton and thus has interacted with his Royal Highness many times. She is always invited to the Pavilion at least twice a summer, and the Regent just arrived from London in the last few weeks. Your sister will come, as will Darcy and I, and Lady Amelia and her son and, we hope, you and the Forsters, if you think your hosts would be interested.”
“Of course they will be interested, Colonel! I can hardly believe … oh, how Kitty will cry when she hears that I met the Prince Regent himself. Oh, sir, thank you very much!”
“I am honored to be of service in any way.”
/
George Wickham took a last swig of beer from his cup, lowered it onto the scarred wooden table, and strode briskly up to the proprietor of The Golden Daffodil , one of the many drinking establishment which catered to the military men in Brighton.
“Yes?” the man inquired absently, rapidly pouring alcohol into glasses to assuage the endless thirst of the military men chatting and drinking and even quarreling in the increasingly loud room.
“I wish to pay off my tab!” Wickham informed the man over the din. “My name is Lieutenant George Wickham!”
The man’s blue eyes brightened and, after handing off the drinks to one of the weary girls bustling about, picked up a grubby book from behind the counter and began thumbing through it.
“George Wickham?” he repeated a minute later, though now his tone was slightly disappointed.
“Yes.”
“You are already paid up, this morning indeed.”
“Oh, perhaps it was my friend Scott? Tall, dark and quite handsome, wearing gentleman’s clothing?”
The red headed owner of The Golden Daffodil frowned and then shook his head. “No, ‘twas a thin, short, blond gentleman, though not a gentleman, if you take my meaning. Dressed like a laborer, he was. ”
“Ah, perhaps Scott sent an underling! Well, I am glad the tab is paid off. I do not care to be in debt,” Wickham lied calmly. “Good evening to you, sir.”
“Good evening,” his host answered courteously, already beginning to pour more cups of spirits for the benefit of his clamoring patrons.
Wickham strode out of the smoky room and into the humid evening air, cursing softly under his breath.
This was the fourth tavern he had visited this evening, and at three of the four, the same thin man had bought up his tab.
There was only one explanation – someone was intending to have him arrested for indebtedness.
As for who, that too was obvious enough. It could not be a coincidence that Fitzwilliam Darcy and Richard Fitzwilliam were in Brighton, nor could it be mere chance that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was with them.
For a brief moment, Wickham allowed his mind to dwell on the image of the lovely and lively Miss Elizabeth. She had been quite a favorite of his back in Meryton, and had accepted without hesitation his tale of woe regarding his cruel treatment at the hands of Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Unfortunately, Miss Elizabeth had spent two months in Kent in the spring, and had met both Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam when they visited their mutual aunt, the imperious Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
Elizabeth had been quite altered in her attitude toward Wickham when she returned from the Hunsford Parsonage where she had been staying with her friend, Mrs. Charlotte Collins.
When Wickham had met Miss Elizabeth after her return, he was no longer the beneficiary of the lady’s admiring smiles.
Instead, he had experienced satirical looks, and uncomfortable questions, and odd statements concerning Darcy and Fitzwilliam.
Clearly, one of the men had told the girl something about Wickham’s dealings with the Darcy family in general and the stolen living in particular, and while Lydia Bennet had accepted that three thousand pounds was not nearly enough to pay for such a valuable living, Elizabeth no doubt felt differently about the matter.
Wickham’s steps slowed as he approached another tavern, The Goose Girl .
On one hand, he had a strong desire to get extremely drunk to escape his fears.
On the other hand, he had better stay sober and plan to .
.. to what? Run away? He had been intending to flee soon, of course, given his steadily mounting debts not only with the tradesmen and tavern keepers, but with his fellow officers.
Given that Fitzwilliam and Darcy were plotting against him, he had best leave very quickly indeed.
As to where he would go, he did not know.
His time in the militia had not been monetarily remunerative, but he had benefited from the status of a red coat, which allowed him to borrow freely from local merchants.
Once he fled to London, he could no longer safely wear his military regimentals, as he would, technically, be deserting .
Ah well, he could always lodge at least briefly with Mrs. Younge, who had been his accomplice when he had attempted to elope with Georgiana Darcy.
The woman now ran a boarding house, and no doubt she could find some corner in which he could stay temporarily.
It was not ideal, but he would determine something afterwards.
He had not starved yet thanks to his good looks, charm, breeding, and intelligence.
Of course, it would be more pleasurable to flee with a companion, and he had one in mind, Miss Lydia Bennet, who was besotted with him and was both well-endowed and handsome, though regrettably poor.
Wait...
Lydia Bennet was a foolish flirt with none of the sense and gentility of her elder sister, but she and Elizabeth were both Bennets.
Something must have brought the elder Miss Bennet to Brighton, and given Lydia’s character, it was almost certain that the foolish girl had boasted of her love for Wickham, in a letter perhaps, which in turn caused Elizabeth to rush hot foot to Brighton to save her young sister from what was, without a doubt, a most disadvantageous relationship for the Bennet family.
But why were Darcy and Fitzwilliam involved? Why would Darcy bestir himself on behalf of the Bennets, whom he despised both for their ties to trade and for the behavior of Mrs. Bennet and her younger two daughters, all of whom were vulgar and ill-bred ?
It was not as if Darcy could have any interest in Miss Elizabeth!
All of Meryton had overheard his insult of her at an assembly before Wickham had joined his regiment.
Darcy had said loudly that Miss Elizabeth was not ‘handsome enough to dance with’; it had been a convenient insult for Wickham as it had turned the local gentry against Darcy.
Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth were much admired in Meryton society.
No, Darcy took himself and his place in society very seriously and was too much of a cold fish to be genuinely stirred by passion for any woman, much less the unconventional, if lovely, Miss Elizabeth.