Page 37 of I am Jael (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

George Wickham was disappointed by his recent luck.

Life would be far more pleasant if he had pulled off the coup of eloping with Georgiana Darcy, the well dowered younger sister of the very wealthy Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Alas, the best of plans do not always succeed.

Georgiana’s brother had unexpectedly visited Ramsgate, where Georgiana and her companion, Mrs. Younge, had been on holiday by the seaside.

Mrs. Younge was George’s mistress and accomplice, and had encouraged the girl to fall in love with him, though that had not required much work on the older woman’s part.

George Wickham was handsome, spirited, amusing and charming, and Georgiana would be fortunate to be his wife.

Alas, the girl had foolishly told her brother of their plans to travel to Gretna Greene for a hurried marriage across the anvil.

Darcy had been incandescent with rage, tossing Mrs. Younge into the street and sending Wickham a threatening letter ordering him to stay away from his insipid sister.

At least Darcy would do no more. Darcy, always a slave to propriety and the dictates of society, would not risk news of this escapade reaching the ears of the ton as Miss Darcy’s reputation would be damaged.

Thus, Wickham held the upper hand; he could ruin Georgiana Darcy at will, and Darcy knew it.

In addition, George Wickham had been old Mr. Darcy’s favorite, and this also would give Darcy pause.

The younger Darcy was a bore, but he could be counted on to go easily on his father’s godson.

Wickham’s father had been the steward of Pemberley, a vast estate in the county of Kent, and had been greatly valued by his employer, Mr. George Darcy.

In fact, Mr. Darcy, now deceased, had seen George’s promise and provided for him liberally.

George had happily accepted his godfather’s generosity.

His patron’s favor included an education at Cambridge and a reasonable, though not generous, allowance.

George accepted these blessings as his due.

He had always delighted his godfather, making him laugh in a way that the man’s own son, Fitzwilliam Darcy, had been quite unable to do.

The latter was a dour individual, always focused on hard work and diligence and devotion to duty.

Life was meant to be enjoyed, was it not?

Darcy was a cold hearted, arrogant snob, and it would have served him right if his precious sister, and her even more precious dowry, had been won. It was incredibly frustrating that it had come to nothing.

Since his disappointment in Ramsgate, George had spent some time in London living off of Mrs. Younge, Miss Darcy’s former companion. She did not have enough money to provide proper lodgings or enough drink, but he used her resources until he tired of them and found a more palatable situation.

A former casual acquaintance, a Mr. Denny, who George chance met in London, suggested he join him in the militia in Meryton, Hertfordshire.

The work held no interest to Wickham, but the social opportunities did.

He intended to spend most of his days promenading the main street on the lookout for lovely ladies and his nights in the local pubs, gambling and drinking.

The militia, according to Mr. Denny, was a well-regarded entity in these backwards towns and many young ladies swooned at the sight of men in red coats.

He knew he set off a red coat with tremendous style, and had no doubt that his charming air and gentlemanly speech would permit him to run up debts with the local tradesmen.

Since the militia moved regularly, he would find it easy enough to leave his debts behind him every few months.

In addition, it was just possible that a well dowered young lady would find him a pleasing husband.

His new plan set, George had joined the militia in Meryton.

To his astonishment and chagrin, Wickham had found Darcy himself on his first day in that provincial little town.

Darcy was staying with Mr. Bingley, the son of a man of trade, who had recently leased a nearby estate called Netherfield.

Fortunately, his nemesis had made things easy for Wickham; a thoroughly lovely young woman named Miss Elizabeth Bennet, whom he had conversed with at a party given by her aunt, informed him that Darcy was despised throughout the local society for his arrogance and rude manners.

Wickham had found Miss Bennet a most willing listener to his grievances; he had told her of the living and Darcy’s refusal to give it to him, though he had neglected to mention the sum Darcy had already paid him.

After all, that was hardly the issue, was it not?

The living was worth far more than that paltry amount of money!

Furthermore, his godfather had left it for him, and Darcy had cunningly encouraged Wickham to give up the living for a small sum!

Elizabeth Bennet, a passionate and clever young woman, had been sympathetic of his suffering and admiring of his person.

She was the second eldest of five daughters of a local gentleman named Bennet.

Wickham would keep his ears open to learn whether she or the elder sister, an astonishingly handsome young woman, would bring significant money into marriage.

It seemed unlikely given how many daughters there were – a mistake on the mother’s part; why had she had only daughters?

It was certainly worth investigating. Marriage to a wealthy woman was the quickest way to the life that he deserved.