Page 15 of Heiress of Longbourn (Pride and Prejudice Variations)
Phillips House
Two Nights Later
George Wickham stepped into the drawing room of the Phillips’s house and cast an anxious look around the room, and then he relaxed. Neither his twin nor Mr. Darcy was in company tonight, which would make the evening far more pleasurable.
Having ascertained that his least favorite individuals were not in residence, he turned speculative eyes towards the ladies. All five Bennet girls were visiting their Aunt Phillips, along with Mrs. Bennet. He had his pick of companions to speak to, and after brief contemplation, he chose the youngest of the girls, Miss Lydia, who was seated alone on a loveseat near the fire, her pretty face twisted into a scowl.
He collected a glass of punch for himself and walked over to look down at the girl. “Is something the matter, Miss Lydia?”
Lydia looked up with a sudden grin and said, “Lieutenant Wickham! No, nothing is wrong at all now that you are here. Sit down, please!”
He did so, maintaining his courteous smile, though he allowed his gaze to flick down the girl’s curvaceous form. Miss Lydia was very young, not yet sixteen, but she was already tall and womanly. He would like to take her into his bed, but it was not worth it. The Bennets were well liked and respected, and his colonel would be outraged if he ruined one of the local ladies.
“I hope you are well?” he asked courteously.
Lydia sighed and glanced toward her mother, who was seated across the room, side by side with the lovely eldest Miss Bennet and opposite Mrs. Phillips, whose plump face was bright with enthusiasm.
“I am well enough, I suppose,” the girl said gloomily, “though Longbourn is rather dull at the moment, as everything is about Jane. She is engaged to Mr. Bingley, you know.”
George had not known, and he felt a brief flash of disappointment in his breast. He had not had much hope of capturing the heiress, but a little hope was better than none at all.
“Congratulations,” he said politely. “I am certain Mr. Bingley and Miss Bennet will be happy together.”
“Oh yes, I am pleased for Jane, especially as Mr. Bingley is so rich, but Mamma talks about nothing other than wedding clothes and the wedding breakfast, and it is very tedious for the rest of us.”
“I suppose Mrs. Bennet is satisfied to have a daughter on the cusp of being well married.”
“She is,” Lydia said and huffed. “And to think, only last week she was absolutely determined that Jane not marry Mr. Bingley. It is just like my father to hide the fact, until now that is, that Jane is not the heiress of Longbourn!”
Not surprisingly, this caused Wickham to prick his ears, though he kept his tone light. “Is she not? How surprising!”
“It is! We all thought for years, for our whole lives, that Jane would inherit Longbourn, because she is the oldest, and now it seems that Father has chosen someone else!”
Wickham, thinking quickly, cast a laughing look on Lydia. “Might the heiress be you yourself? I am confident that you would be a wonderful mistress of the estate.”
To his surprise, Lydia grimaced and said, “I certainly hope I am not! Mamma does not wish for the heiress to marry, ever, and I have no desire to be a spinster at Longbourn until she dies. No, I hope it is Lizzy or Mary or Kitty. For that matter, I suppose Father might just change the heiress depending on who is married and who is not.”
Wickham turned a thoughtful eye on Miss Elizabeth, who was cheerfully conversing with Captain Denny. Any dream of winning that lady’s admiration was at an end, thanks to Alexander’s unexpected arrival in Meryton. The more gullible ladies did not seem perturbed at his artful shading of the truth regarding Darcy and the Kympton living, but Miss Elizabeth was undeniably clever. If she was the heiress of Longbourn, he had little hope with her, which was a great pity.
On the other hand, perhaps it was one of the other Bennet daughters, in which case... Well, Longbourn was not a large estate, but neither was it especially small, and being married to the heiress of Longbourn would be very convenient. As for Mrs. Bennet’s supposed opposition to such a union, he could probably overcome it.
He would have to ponder the situation carefully to determine how to best make use of this new information.
***
Longbourn
Saturday, 13th December, 1811
The butler stepped back, permitting the guests entry. Bingley led his sisters, brother-in-law, and friend into the drawing room. Darcy glanced around, taking in the five Bennet sisters and their parents, and noticed with a jolt one of the Wickham twins seated beside the fire. A moment later, his stiffened spine relaxed as he recognized Alexander’s kindly expression. Though Alexander and his twin looked identical, George Wickham’s eyes always had a conniving glint in them, while the warmth on Alexander’s face was genuine. Moreover, Alexander was dressed in a sober brown waistcoat as opposed to bright red military garments.
Of course, bows must be made and the appropriate greetings exchanged, and Darcy went through this familiar ritual with half his mind. The other half was noting, unhappily, that Alexander seemed stuck to Miss Elizabeth’s elbow. Was it possible the parson was pursuing the lady? It certainly made sense; Alexander was well-established with a good living, and Darcy could certainly picture, with a lump in his throat, Miss Elizabeth as a parson’s clever, kind wife.
The idea of Miss Elizabeth moving to live at Kympton was torturous. To attend church each Sunday, to speak with her regarding the welfare of the surrounding families, to have to look into her smiling face and listen to her bright voice and arch speech and remain silent, for she was another man’s wife…
Darcy pulled himself from his thoughts. They were utterly absurd. Alexander and Miss Elizabeth were remarkably well-suited and could be happy together. Darcy would be a churl to grudge the young man for such a match.
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said, approaching with one of her breathtaking smiles, “I hope you are well.”
He felt his breath hitch a moment at her loveliness, and it took a few seconds before he managed to say, “Yes, I am very well. Thank you. How are you?”
“I am very well. We are all pleased about Jane and Charles. Mr. Wickham was just telling me that you and Charles have been friends for many years, since Eton, I believe?”
“Yes,” Bingley said, appearing at Darcy’s side with Miss Bennet on his arm. “Darcy is a few years older than I am and was kind enough to take pity on the son of a tradesman when I washed up, short and plump, on Eton’s hallowed doorstep.”
Miss Bennet laughed and said, “Were you indeed short, Charles?”
“Well, compared to Darcy, I still am! He is such a great, tall fellow, after all. But yes, I was and am grateful for your friendship, Darcy. I hope you know that.”
“You are aware that I benefited as much as you did, Bingley. I have always been more or less awkward in company, and you can count on being liked wherever you go.”
“Every person has his or her own personality, gifts, and weaknesses,” Alexander remarked, and Miss Elizabeth nodded. “That is entirely true. I am sometimes astonished at how very different my sisters and I are from one another. Five daughters, all raised in the same home, with the same parents, and yet we have very distinct personalities and interests.”
“And my brother and I are dissimilar as well,” Alexander said with a smile, “in spite of identical form and features. I think many people are surprised by that.”
As usual, Darcy felt a jolt of anger and resentment and concern at the reminder of George Wickham’s existence, but Bingley merely said, “Yes, and my sisters and I are very different as well. Now, Mr. Wickham, I understand that you grew up on the grounds of Pemberley and are now a clergyman in Derbyshire?”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy is my patron, and I am very grateful to him.”
“I would not have given you the living if I were not confident that you would serve the people of Kympton well,” Darcy said sincerely.
“Thank you, sir,” Alexander said and then looked at Bingley. “Mr. Bingley, may I offer my congratulations? I am certain you and Miss Bennet will be very happy.”
“I know we will,” Bingley replied and turned such an adoring look on his bride-to-be that Darcy was once again filled with tremendous envy.
At this moment, the butler entered to announce dinner, and Darcy, as the highest ranking man, guided Mrs. Bennet out of the room and down the hall to the dining room, while everyone else paired up appropriately to proceed into the room.
To his relief, Miss Elizabeth hurried to him at the table and said, “Mr. Darcy, would you care to sit next to Mr. Alexander near the foot of the table? My mother thought perhaps you would enjoy having an old friend to talk to at length, which is why she invited him.”
Darcy felt a strange easing of the chest at these words and said, “Thank you. I would like that very much.”
He did indeed enjoy dinner more than he expected. The food was excellent and the company, with Miss Mary on his right and Alexander Wickham on his left, was pleasant enough. Miss Mary was a quiet creature, but taking a leaf from Bingley, he introduced the topic of music, which proved to be a successful. In the midst of casual conversation, he found his eyes often moving to Miss Elizabeth, who was seated between Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. He was thankful, for his friend’s sake, that Mrs. Hurst was behaving with propriety toward the Bennets. As for Miss Bingley, while she looked rather sour and was mostly silent, she was, at least, not insulting anyone.
After dinner, when the ladies had departed, while Bingley and Bennet were speaking loudly, and Hurst was leaning back in his chair, looking somnolent. Alexander said softly, “Mr. Darcy, I will be returning to Kympton in a few days, and I have an idea to protect the people of Meryton from my brother’s depredations.”
Darcy turned curious eyes on his old friend. “What is your plan?”
***
The Pig in the Poke Pub and Inn
The Next Day
“Good morning, sir,” Mr. Bilson, the owner of the Pig in the Poke said. “What can I do for you?”
“I would like to pay off my current debt, along with three more days of lodging, Mr. Bilson,” Alexander said. “I will be leaving soon for home in Derbyshire.”
“Very good, sir,” Bilson said, pulling his ledger out, running a finger down the page, and then naming the amount.
Alexander pulled coins out of his purse, counted out the money, and pushed the small pile across to the landlord.
“Now,” he said, “what about my brother George? How much does he owe you?”
Bilson looked startled, but found the requisite sum in the ledger, named it, and smiled when Alexander paid that off as well.
“That is very kind of you, sir, very kind indeed, to assist your brother in such a way.”
“It is more that I am being kind to you,” Alexander said drily, replacing the purse in his pocket. “My brother never pays his debts.”
Bilson’s smile gave way to a frown. “Surely that is not true.”
“It is entirely and unfortunately true, much as I hate to admit it,” Alexander assured his host. “We were both the godsons of old Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, and my brother regrettably took on the airs of the gentry and a belief that debts can be ignored. I am well aware that the current Mr. Darcy has paid off literally hundreds of pounds in debts on my brother’s behalf in Lambton, the little town nearest Pemberley.”
Now Bilson’s plump face was set with disapproval, and he said, “Obviously you do not have the same beliefs, Mr. Wickham?”
“I do not,” Alexander agreed. “I am know that for a shopkeeper or a publican, a few pounds one way or the other is a serious problem. That is why I am paying off George’s debt. As for the future – well, you will have to decide what to do after I return to my parsonage in the north.”
Bilson nodded at these words. “Indeed. Thank you, Mr. Wickham.”
Alexander nodded in return and walked toward the outer door which led to the main street of Meryton.
The single cobbled street bustled with activity, farmers’ and merchants’ wives and daughters going about their shopping and haggling with the shopkeepers. Carts drawn by placid, plodding farm horses creaked up and down, a contrast to the tinkle of bells over shop doors. Alexander himself would need to visit all the shops and find out at which ones George had run up debts on a non-existent credit, backed only by his charm.
Some part of Alexander’s spirit quailed at taking such a step, one that he knew his brother would see as egregious betrayal. George’s reputation would be ruined by Alexander’s decision to pay off standing debts and warn the shopkeepers of the lieutenant’s habit of ignoring his pecuniary responsibilities. But then, Alexander reflected sadly, George had himself ensured that he did not deserve a good opinion from these folks.
It was still hard, seeing the path of destruction and perdition George Wickham had chosen. When they were children, Alexander had followed his older twin’s lead in everything, looking up to his brother in every adventure and decision. Even after they went off to Cambridge, Alexander had continued to follow George’s lead into various scrapes, despite his own growing unease. It was not until he had earnestly started studying for his ordination that his conscience had grown stronger than his idolized twin’s merry, inviting grin and, later, derisive mockery.
Once, Alexander had sincerely tried to explain his concerns, and just the once, George had patiently listened, presenting each argument with a counter-point. Lots of the young men at Cambridge ran up debts, the gentlemen’s sons rarely bothered to pay the shopkeepers who extended them credit. It was common, it was expected , even, he had said.
Alexander thought of the shopkeepers back home in Lambton, who balanced their books so very carefully, extending credit with great care and anxious when it came time to pay up accounts until all the farmers had done so. He maintained stubbornly that being commonplace did not make it right . George had simply laughed and patted his brother’s shoulder and departed for another night on the town, leaving Alexander alone with his books and his burdens of conscience.
It had been the beginning of the deterioration in their relationship. As Alexander had grown closer to God, he had grown farther from his profligate brother. All the younger twin’s appeals to the elder had fallen on ears that were first indulgent, then impatient, then hostile. Meanwhile, George grew less and less concerned with the wellbeing of others, intent only on the pursuit of his own pleasure.
By the time both young men left Cambridge, they had had very little to say to one another. Alexander would never stop loving his brother, but he could not stand mutely by while George destroyed the lives and livelihoods of these honest, hard-working folk in Meryton.