This is my third chapter for today. When Wickham attends the church service, the quoted words are part of the optional and mandatory parts of order of service in the 1662 Book of Common Prayer.

After the week passed, Rebecca and Mr. Muckingham appeared to him late at night while he lay awake with his eyes closed. "I know now what I want my wish to be," Wickham announced to them. He felt clarity and certainty; he was finally confident in his choice.

Rebecca looked at him with both hope and fear in her eyes.

Muck looked to be without any trepidation and completely self assured. He said, "Wickham, as soon as you make your wish you will get everything you deserve as you should have."

Wickham thought, I know I did not deserve what happened but Darcy does not deserve to die for his sins or mine, he does not deserve to die to benefit me. We all have evil in our hearts but one. I do not deserve Lydia, she deserves more than me and yet, somehow, she put her faith in me. I will not let it be ill-deserved, I cannot.

"Before I announce my decision, there are a few thing I need to do to prepare to leave this life behind in the right way," Wickham said calmly. "There is a letter or two I must write."

"There is nothing you need do," Muck said, crossing his arms and giving a slightly sour look, "no one you need to justify yourself to. No one needs any explanation. They do not deserve it and it would be pointless as once you make your wish this world as you know it will fall away."

Wickham crossed his arms in return and straightened himself up. He asserted calmly, "Nevertheless, it is not your decision to make, Muck."

Wickham noticed Muck looked annoyed. Wickham wondered if it was because of his general attitude, calling him "Muck" instead of "Mr. Muckingham" or just because he suddenly saw a reason to be less confident.

Then Wickham's eyes drifted over to Rebecca. She looked more hopeful now and her hope made her lovelier. Wickham idly wondered whether his new sister Jane's whole countenance was more beatific now that she had captured the heart of Mr. Bingley, he made his addresses and was accepted.

Rebecca gave him a slight nod and the barest of smiles.

Wickham directed his next words to Rebecca, "You told me that this is my choice, mine alone, though I know you want me to do what is right because that is what would be best for me."

He looked back at Muck when he added, "I will do what I think I should regarding my life, not what you think I should do. Not what would most benefit you and the one you serve."

He then looked at both of them. "I will be ready to tell you tomorrow night, after Lydia is asleep."

Muck made an annoyed noise and grumbled to himself indistinctly before giving a curt nod and then vanished.

Rebecca gave him a smile, took his outstretched hand (that he had not even realized he held out toward her) and gave it a squeeze between her two smaller hands. She looked up at him with such hope. "I have been praying that you would see things clearly and it seems that you have. I am glad I will have the chance to see you one more time."

"Good night," he told her.

She nodded and smiled once more; then Wickham was blinking and found himself back in his own bed.

It was full night and Lydia was lying on her side, turned away from him. Wickham turned on his side toward her and snuggled against Lydia, wrapping his left arm around her waist. Feeling a bit sentimental, he thought, Everything will change tomorrow night; I should enjoy being with my dear, sweet wife while I still can. The idea of not being married to her was strange. He gave her a light kiss on the cheek and then ran his hand down her side. He placed gentle kisses along the side of her face down the column of her neck. Her skin tasted sweet and he thought she had likely had a bath that day. It made him think about how the rest of her might taste.

Wickham wondered how deeply Lydia was sleeping. She seemed especially tired these days and he was trying to be more considerate of her than he was wont to be earlier in their marriage. Lately, with all the deep thoughts he had in his mind, Wickham had been intimate with Lydia less than when they were initially married. He considered just how long and was surprised to calculate that it had been three days. But now, tonight, though he had decided his future he wanted to forget about all of that for a while, to touch and taste, to hear the sounds of delight from her that no one else ever had, to be together, against and within her. He felt his desire and hoped he might raise a similar desire in her, if only his kisses were enough to rouse her.

Fate or perhaps God smiled upon him as he heard her give a little sigh of pleasure and rouse enough to turn toward him. Their lips found each other and they drank deeply of each other. That night their loving was sweet and unhurried but came to a passionate conclusion. At the end they clung to each other, not willing to admit it was over and Wickham felt tears collect in his eyes. He could not help by compare how it felt being intimate with the Lydia of Muck's vision compared with the real one. The first encounter certainly had plenty of physical pleasure but he preferred this more recent encounter as it was about far more. Could this really be the last time we love each other this way? He asked himself.

As was to be expected given the lateness of the hour, he drifted off to sleep even as he tried to remain awake and savor the feeling he felt just then.

When the morning came, Wickham was pleased it was Sunday and he was not expected to work. Attending church, he usually just found as a useful way to let his mind drift. So long as he made sure to complement Lydia on her dress and appearance, she did not demand much of him but his arm to escort her on their walk there. She was eagerly greeting other people, anxious to get a bit of gossip from those she was now too busy to see on a regular basis, curious to see how people were turned out and the like. As had become their practice, now they sat with the Egertons.

Wickham made a genuine effort on this occasion to pay attention to the church service. It was the third Sunday of Advent and he felt different now about the approach of Christmas than he had before. Although the lessons drifted over him without him giving them adequate attention, somehow the singing of the Te Deum Laudemus was heard differently by him.

The church at Newcastle was the first one he had attended in which these words were sung rather than spoken and he imagined both methods must be permissible in the Book of Common Prayer. He knew the words of course; all did and he could have probably said them with unfailing accuracy even if half asleep or drunk, but they were just sounds and had been for a long time. Now, though, when he sang "O Lord, have mercy upon us, have mercy upon us, O Lord, let thy mercy lighten upon us, as our trust is in thee" he was truly asking this for himself with all the others singing it.

During the singing of the Apostle's Creed when he sang the list of beliefs which included "forgiveness of sins" he listened anew. His ears paid attention to and picked up on all the other times during the prayers where the requests for mercy and forgiveness were repeated again and again. He heard the words, as if for the first time.

When the minister intoned, "O Lord, shew thy mercy upon us" and he answered in unison with the rest of the congregation, "And grant us thy salvation" he was indeed sending up a fervent prayer and desiring its answer.

That afternoon Wickham wrote his letters, trusting that He would understand why he was working on something on His day. First he wrote to Darcy.

Dear Darcy,

I remember when we were almost brothers and then when it all changed. I have resented you for far too long, blamed you for everything, and tried to make your life miserable and take everything I could get from you and those that belonged to you. In the end, I was the one who ended up miserable. That ends today.

You did wrong me, but I wronged myself, too, when I allowed that to define my life. I wronged many people along the way, did far more evil to far more people than you. Your harsh treatment of me was an aberration from your general character and I know that all the evil you believed of me I have more than fulfilled.

In looking back at that day when I saved you from drowning, there were times that I considered what my life would have been like if I had let you drown. Would my life have been better with you not around? I do not know, but I know it would be a betrayal to the boy I was who fought for his friend to even think such a thought. The boy I was saved you not for praise, accolades, your love or even to please your father, but because of the love he had for you. I wish I could be like that boy again.

You have returned good for my evil many times, paying off my debts and arranging for my current commission so that I might have yet another fresh start funded by you. Tomorrow will be a new beginning for me and I plan to take full advantage of the opportunities that I have been given. So, though you have never apologized or tried to right that wrong you did me, I forgive you.

By now Elizabeth must be Mrs. Darcy. Earning her love is a special feat. I am sure she will adore Pemberley. You do not deserve her, but then neither do I deserve Lydia. Being wed to one of the Bennet sisters can only better you and improve your life. I ought to know.

With all sincerity and best wishes for your future happiness.

George Wickham

Wickham knew there was no time for such a letter to reach Darcy, but that was not really the point. Darcy would be fine with or without his forgiveness. It was he, Wickham, who needed to forgive and be forgiven.

Next Wickham wrote to Lydia to ask for her forgiveness.

Dear Lydia,

My darling wife, you have had such faith in me which I ill deserved. I have treated you as a play thing, made many choices that could have resulted in disastrous consequences to you. I was selfish and childish yet somehow you still care for me, love me even. I do not deserve your love. Please forgive me for all the ways that I have wronged you.

I am not sure when it happened, but you have captured my heart. I love you my darling. I know I have said these words before, to you and others to obtain whatever I wanted in that moment, but I feel them now, quite deeply in fact. This is something I should have been telling you every day.

I am still grateful that you picked me and stayed resolute in that decision, little that I deserved such loyalty. I know you have made great sacrifices to be with me and I acted as if it was of little import that you gave up your home and the society of all you hold dear to be with me. I have been so proud in seeing how hard you have worked to learn the skills many of these other women have known for many a year.

I am not worthy of you, but I wish to be.

Please know if starting over again I would single you out for my admiration from the beginning of our acquaintance and would court you in the manner you deserved to be courted. And then, when you were truly ready to be a wife rather than rushed into it by circumstances, I would marry you in front of all of your family and friends, and find a way for us to live near your family as I have no family to offer you besides myself.

When you told me about your birth, the part of the story that has stayed with me the most is when you told me that once your mother got a hold of you and knew you were hers, she would not let you go. I, too, having gotten a hold of you have learned that you are mine and will never let you go. Too, I am yours forever.

You make me want to be better that I am.

Love,

George

Unlike Darcy, Lydia was right there and Wickham pondered whether he should let her read the missive, given what he planned to do. In the end, though, he decided he should.