Trouble With Wickham (6 page)

Georgiana eyed the impressive gates. “I’ve heard it’s beautiful inside, modeled after the palace at Brighton.”

“I have not been inside but Charlotte has,” Elizabeth said. “She thought it not quite her style.”

“Mrs. Lancaster had a close call with the Earl, who seemed most agreeable but was really living a double life of treachery and wanton excess. You see, Georgiana, that I am right to be extra cautious regarding your suitors in light of the Radcliffe family’s experience. Even the best of society can have hidden secrets,” Fitzwilliam said with authority.

Georgiana ignored her brother’s lecturing. “I wonder if the Duke will attend, as he is a neighbor?”

Her brother sniffed at her obvious curiosity. “I do not know the Duke of Rutleigh. Of course any connections made in the course of this party will be subject to my investigation afterward,” he warned.

Georgiana rolled her eyes.

In truth Fitzwilliam thought it right to be wary of dukes, earls, viscounts and even reverends, where his sister Georgiana was concerned. There was but one man that he did not plan to discourage from developing an interest in his sister. In fact, truth be told he possessed an ulterior motive for bringing Georgiana to Bennington Park, beyond the superficial claim of controlling her actions.

He had been introduced to Charlotte’s brother Hugh at the Meryton assembly and had reason to run into him while in London recently. Knowing the impressive reputation of his father, Lord Radcliffe, Fitzwilliam had taken it upon himself to make discreet inquiries around London as to the character and reputation of Hugh Radcliffe.

The results had pleased him.

No gossip surrounded the young man, other than his sister’s inconsequential gaffe regarding the Earl of Buckland, who was a disaster anyway. The young heir had a traditional gentleman’s education, sitting at Cambridge, versed in Latin and Greek and the French languages and displaying a knack for Algebra. According to the observations of Louisa Hurst and Caroline Bingley, Hugh Radcliffe dressed smartly, appearing in a stylish blue coat at London assemblies. Sadly, he was reported by each of them to be an unenthusiastic dance partner.

Hugh had a reputation in his London club as one who enjoyed his drink but not to excess, with expensive tastes befitting his rank. His favorite pastime was shooting; hence he spent the hunting season in Hertfordshire. His closest friend was his former tutor and now brother-in-law, Guy Lancaster, whose reputation was clean.

Thusly satisfied that the young Mr. Radcliffe was a man of sense and education, Fitzwilliam most highly desired to bring Georgiana to his attention. Surely she could stay at Pemberley unattended for a week and have no harm come to her, for his staff was loyal to a fault and just as protective of Georgiana as he was.

Indeed, he was not unaware of how deeply he had been affected by Wickham’s scheme to entrap and ruin Georgiana in order to line his pockets. Wickham’s recent escapade with Miss Lydia Bennet convinced Fitzwilliam that his former friend’s wicked character was unimproved; he was still capable of wreaking havoc on unsuspecting lives. Although the near miss elopement with Georgiana at Ramsgate was a few years past, the feelings of betrayal had not ebbed. In Fitzwilliam’s mind, the narrowly averted disaster ignited deep feelings of mistrust in him, powerful feeling he did not know he possessed.

His only consolation in the unhappy event was the fact that Georgiana herself had been the one to confess the plan. She was all goodness, and could not bear to be dishonest; her vulnerability only made Fitzwilliam despise Wickham even more.

Since then he felt a deepened sense of responsibility toward Georgiana’s future. Perhaps he erred too often on the overprotective side, but he did not know how to ride the issue in the middle.

Wickham’s marriage to Lydia Bennet had only served to complicate matters further. Fitzwilliam had done the right thing by intervening and inducing Wickham to marry Lydia, saving her and the Bennet family name from social death. He did not shirk from doing what he believed was right, knowing all the while that his love for Elizabeth could tie him and Georgiana permanently to a man he despised. Upon his marriage to Elizabeth, Fitzwilliam dealt with the Wickham issue the only way he knew how: by forbidding Lydia or Wickham to ever set foot on the grounds of Pemberley. Georgiana’s reputation and safety would always come first.

Likewise, upon being settled at Pemberley Georgiana had but one restriction placed on her: under no circumstance could she accompany Elizabeth on her visits to Longbourn. Although she might have liked to see Elizabeth’s home, her brother would not allow it.

“I cannot risk you running into objectionable company while visiting there,” he said.

Georgiana wished he would just say his name.

“You mean George Wickham?”

Darcy refused to acknowledge his enemy.

“It is not a sin to say his Christian name brother. The past is in the past.”

Fitzwilliam was not so sure. He saw no good purpose in discussing George Wickham. “I have managed, with considerable finesse, to keep that debacle in Ramsgate a secret. Please, dear sister, follow my guidance in this matter.”

“But is the debacle, as you like to call it, my own secret to keep or yours? Shouldn’t I be free to speak of it if I so desire, according to my own judgment?”

“I do not think that it is wise to be introduced to society as the young lady once easily seduced by George Wickham,” he said bluntly. “Society is fickle. Consider that you are not the subject of gossip when you very well may have been,” he reminded her. For this Georgiana was not ungrateful.

“I am sorry,” she said, laying a quick kiss on her brother’s cheek. “Obviously the George Wickham I thought I knew never existed,” she said, with a small laugh.

For his part, Fitzwilliam could not laugh about the matter. He had no problem acting the bad guy where Georgiana’s reputation was concerned.

However, bringing Georgiana to Bennington Park had the potential to afford her great future happiness, if the introductions he planned in his mind went accordingly. He smiled to himself at the thought of having Georgiana happily settled. He had tried his whole life to be the right brother to her; in the years since the death of his father he and Colonel Fitzwilliam had made their shared guardianship over her their first priority with no disagreements arising between the two of them on the direction of her care.

Yet despite providing her with the best of education, food and whatever clothes she determined were necessary to keep up with society in London and Paris, in terms of his guardianship he believed he had yet to achieve the most important goal—a suitable spouse. He had harbored silent hope that his good friend Charles Bingley might be that man; alas, Bingley’s instant infatuation with Jane Bennet had forced Fitzwilliam to change course. But with his notice of Hugh Radcliffe, he saw the dawn of a new future.

Of his wishes in this regard, he would be circumspect, for he had no intentions of forcing Georgiana into anyone’s company. He knew his sister well; if she suspected that she was being set up with the young Radcliffe she might purposely find him objectionable. Privacy was the key to success. So delicately did he feel the connection must be handled that he had not mentioned his matchmaking hopes even to Elizabeth, in whom he loved to confide. The easy introduction was an art; in Georgiana’s case if the weekend were to go smoothly then he figured she was halfway to becoming the next Lady Radcliffe.

Recent changes in his sister’s nature convinced him even further of this need for secrecy. She had recently become more obstinate, chafing under his suggestions and flaunting her independence in insignificant incidents. Lately he had observed her shedding her timid ways in exchange for a stronger, surer voice. Her association with the Stanhopes in London, a connection she knew he disapproved of and which he happily severed the day he brought her back home to Pemberley, was the most recent example.

It did not irritate him, this free spiritedness that she was currently exercising, a bird resisting her gilded cage. She was simply growing into a strong young lady. His mother, bless her soul, had been confident and bold. He had no desire to see his sister’s spirits downcast, or to sentence her to a solitary life without proper companionship. However, she had proven herself once to be a poor judge of character. As she herself did not have it in her to hurt another she could hardly recognize those that lived to do so.

He wanted Georgiana to discover the young Mr. Radcliffe on her own. If by his powers of observation he was able to determine any modicum of delight on her end with the young man, then he vowed to do everything in his power to make sure that no obstacle interfered with her happiness. He offered a silent prayer that the weekend would surpass his hopes, and that he could play a significant part in making his sister’s happiness complete.

H
ugh Radcliffe was restless. Lately, he had found himself out of sorts; the lone child remaining at Bennington Park. The house was quiet with Charlotte gone. He had not noticed how much commotion she added to each day, what with her constant chattering on nonsensical topics or leaving her fashion magazines and gothic novels scattered all over the furniture. He even missed the smell of her paints and the messy easel that she had the habit of propping up right in his path.

His former partner in idleness, Guy Lancaster, was now rightly preoccupied with matters of spouse and home and Hugh felt the loss of his companionship on a daily basis.

He filled his days roaming the quiet house and grounds aimlessly. He was alternately restless and morose and the hunting party had come at the right time for him. He needed a distraction.

“You need a wife,” his father insisted. “And some demanding children. Or take care I don’t put you in charge of one of the tenant farms. That will end your boredom quickly.”

Hugh let his father’s words go in one ear and out the other.

On the matter of marriage, he did not know if he had no wish to marry or simply no woman to tempt him. For a year or so he had harbored a secret affection for Miss Jane Bennett, as did most young men of the neighborhood. Jane was the brightest star in the Meryton sky, her only fault being an inability to show favor or affection to any one man. Indeed she showed it equally to all. As a result Hugh did not know if he should advance toward her or respectfully retreat.

Compounding Jane’s diffidence was his mother’s constant harping on Mrs. Bennet’s lack of manners, the wildness of the sisters, and the indifference shown by Mr. Bennet to his daughters’ follies. Fearing his mother’s disapproval, his admiration for Jane was conducted entirely from afar and in secret.

Then, upon seeing the newcomer Mr. Bingley sweep into town and successfully court Jane, Hugh realized the error of his approach. It was a valuable lesson; in the future he would guard his heart against his mother’s influence and pursue with haste the next object of his affection, whoever she may be. His mother’s hawk-eyed evaluation of every eligible woman that crossed his path did not make matters any easier for him.

As the heir to Bennington Park, his father lately insisted that he spend more time at the estate. Lord Radcliffe lived every day as if he were about to die the next, fixating over the accounts books, reviewing his last will and testament, always convinced that the next cough or sneeze signaled the end of his days.

Since the end of August Hugh had been in residence in Hertfordshire, per his parents’ wishes. He knew that, in addition to his father’s peculiarities regarding his own mortality, the elder Lord Radcliffe was desperately trying to distract Lady Radcliffe from Charlotte’s absence.

Hugh was well aware of his mother’s propensity to dissolve into tears when the subject of her empty nest arose. As a result he was happy to entrench himself at Bennington Park, accompanying his mother as she rode about the countryside on her charitable endeavors for the parish and offering himself up as a dependable dance partner for the familiar young women at the regular Meryton assemblies, many of them secretly hoping that the handsome heir would whisk them away to be the mistress of Bennington Park. Instead, he remained as indifferent to them as he had been the previous 25 years of his life.

He had indulged his parents’ whims generously during this interval, only putting his foot down once. It occurred at the dinner table one evening, in response to his parent’s suggestion that he accompany them on their visit to Rosings Park to meet with the grand Lady Catherine.

“I’d sooner pull my back teeth out with a pair of forceps,” he stated simply.

“I will put you down as a no then,” his father replied.

Hugh grinned at his father and speedily downed his glass of wine. The news of the impending trip to Rosings Park pleased him; he looked forward to his parents vacating the estate and leaving him in charge for a week. He might have a few old university chums out for a night or two of cards and drinking, he imagined.  

Such fun did occur for Hugh, and a memorable week passed with his male friends, ravishing the wine cellar, breaking the odd vase here and there and causing what he considered to be only minimal damage to the flowerbeds. By his parents return he had orchestrated the necessary repairs and the house and gardens were back to their usual high standards. He stuffed the broken pieces of pottery in a feed sack filled with heavy rocks and sunk them in the river.

Fortunately for Hugh, upon return Lord and Lady Radcliffe were too preoccupied recounting the glories of their stay at Rosings Park to notice any evidence of disrepair in their surroundings. Unfortunately for Hugh, their visit to Rosings had unearthed another young heiress in need of a suitable mate.

It was not long before he began to hear the name Miss Anne de Bourgh popping up repeatedly in conversation. He suspected, rightly, that she had no prospects of her own and that he had been singled out to fill that bill. He sighed, anticipating the inevitable awkward introduction, banal conversations about pastimes and preferences and, later, a thorough interrogation by his mother as to the exact reasons why the proffered heiress failed to excite him.