Life was certainly not as she had expected for Mrs. Lydia Wickham.
First being married, Lydia has expected to wake every morning to the face of her handsome husband, George Wickham, and lay to bed with him every night. She had expected to take him to balls, and show him off to everyone she could, and dance every dance with him until her feet ached. She had expected to show up at every family gathering, to see her sisters and their husbands aging, while she and Mr. Wickham remained as beautiful as ever. She had expected nice gowns, and gifts from her husband, and long walks with only him. Lydia Wickham had expected a fairy tale life, straight from the books.
This, was far from what she got.
After three years of marriage, Lydia and had blown through the ten thousand pounds that was given to by Darcy in order to get Wickham to marry Lydia. They had spent it on much, the bought new clothes, and went to balls, they went to operas, and theaters. They did manage to buy a home as well in the midst of all their spending, A nice but modest home in the town of New Castle.
Lydia had only asked a handful of times where such money came from, though Wickham had only ever said it was left to him by his father. The silly girl had never questioned the reply, never thinking twice of how a steward could gain so much.
But now the money was gone. And not only that, but Lydia rarely saw her husband. He would rise early, and never return home till late, long after she had gone to sleep herself. Still though, Lydia would never suspect Wickham's motives for never being around. She'd ask what kept him from time to time, though his answer to this was also, always the same. "I was kept by work"
The young woman of nineteen could not afford the luxuries she so desperately wished she could. She had no maid or cook, and her dear Wickham had to care for the horses by himself. They dared not invite company.
And to make matters worse, Lydia had rather large news she simply had to impose on her husband. And at this point, it could really only make matters much worse.
...
"What do you mean you are to have a child?!" George Wickham asked as he paced the bedroom. It was late in the night, and Lydia had been waiting up for him. She had seduced Wickham into the bedroom (which had always been quiet easy for Lydia to do whenever she pleased) And let him lay with her for several moments before deciding it would be a good time to tell Wickham of her news, which caused him to leap back from shock. He stared at his wife for several long moments before he had exclaimed the words of shock and confusion at the news Lydia has shared with him so suddenly.
Lydia propped herself up with her hand as she watched her darling Wickham look around the room. She then sat up straight and put her hands in her lap and grinned. "But Darling Wickham! Don't be so cross! This will be you, and I, Our child will be us! Don't you see! It is the most marvelous thing to happen!" Lydia exclaimed then fell back onto the pillows. She clearly was not grasping the idea that there was no way she and Wickham could raise a child. With Wickham always off, and Lydia for a mother, never mind the expenses that Wickham would never be able to afford unless he never had another drink or played a game of cards for the rest of his life.
"For once in your life would you stop dreaming your silly girlish dreams!" Yelled Wickham harshly. "What will we do with it?! We can not hardly afford ourselves! Much less another burden! We will no longer enjoy our fun! And You, my dearest wife, Will take the blunt of it all! You will lose your beauty! You will lose those mornings you spend in bed, and will never have a taste of fine wine again!" Wickham exclaimed cruelly. George Wickham was often able to tolerate Lydia's foolishness, even after years, her ridiculousness would entertain him. And his own humor often permitted her wild behavior.
He did not love Lydia as much as a husband ought to, he did a bit he could suppose, but that was more from her being the only constant person in his life since they wed. Though they did argue more then anyone else he'd ever met. The fought about money, they fought about his time away, they fought about their family and numerous other things.
Every fight would end the same, Lydia would hit Wickham in the chest as she wailed and cried (though Lydia had hardly any muscle behind it, it could hardly hurt the larger and much stronger man). Wickham would grab her hands, and attempt to pull her into his arms (as a part of him did wish to please his wife). Lydia would not accept the comfort, and say something harsh, causing Wickham to release her, Lydia would always then run up to their room and sob into the blankets, screaming about how unfair things were, and the lack of love everyone had for her, while Wickham stormed away from the home to drink.
Just now however, he was not even slightly amused by Lydia's silliness.
Lydia had now stopped laughing as she thought over Wickham's words. She stood and went to the mirror, touching her face. Turning her head in the mirror, taking herself in. She had always been considered rather pretty, not so beautiful as Jane, but pretty enough for Wickham to show her off at every ball.
It was as she looked at herself in the mirror, and kept an eye on Wickham behind her, that she made up her mind on what to do. "Well we mustn't let that happen" Lydia stated and turned around with a small smile. She walked over and took Wickham's hands.
"It is no trouble, I know what to do!" Lydia Exclaimed.
"And what might that be?" Wickham asked, watching her with suspiscion. His young wife rarely had a good idea, and on the off chance it was good, it could be counted on that it would be trouble.
"Well isn't it obvious? My Dear Wickham, we are to go to America! We can not take a baby on such a journey with us! The obvious solution, is to leave baby with one of my sisters!" Lydia threw his hands down, and nodded with a dignified grin, obviously very pleased with herself for thinking up such an idea.
"Mrs. Wickham, we can not just leave our child! If we we leave it, then they will no longer pay our fee for the ship! They will no longer pay anything for our way!" George Wickham reminded her, seemingly annoyed that his wife had not the brains to remember this on her own.
Lydia frowned for a mere moment before smiling again. She laughed loudly. "Well then we will simply ask for the pounds before we leave the baby! Who should we leave it with though? If we leave it with Jane, she will take very good care of it, and even let us see it if we wish! But, I doubt she'd ever pay us anything ever again! Perhaps Lizzie? I know you do not love Darcy, but surely they wouldn't turn away their sisters dear child, and even Lizzie would not be so cruel as to refuse me to see my own baby!" Lydia nodded as she made her decision. "There then! We will seek money from Jane for out voyage, and leave the baby with Lizzie until we can get on our feet!" She took Wickham's hands again. "It is a grand idea, is it not?!" She spun Wickham around with her until she reached the bed, which she then threw herself onto.
Wickham watched Lydia. A mischievous young woman she could often be. He considered her idea. It was a clever one, and one he could find no fault with thus far. They would go to America, and when ready...if they were ever ready, they would come retrieve the child. It was the perfect plan he decided.
Wickham then sat on the bed beside his wife. "My dear sweet Lydia, You have truly out done yourself" He lifted Lydia's hand and kissed it.
