This piece can function as a stand-alone Pride and Prejudice fanfiction, but for those interested I'll explain the backstory behind it. In 'Wickham's Second Attempt', Georgiana loses her memory in a carriage accident and is taken in by the Bennets. Elizabeth, unaware of her identity, accidentally reintroduces her to Wickham, thus allowing him a second chance to worm his way into Georgiana's good graces and fortune. In 'Wickham's Second Attempt', we only see Georgiana and Elizabeth's perspective on that first meeting with Mr. Wickham; this is my take on what Wickham may have thought when he saw Georgiana in Longbourn's garden and realized what an opportunity fate had afforded him.
George Wickham arrived at Longbourn fashionably late. It was the last day before the militia were to depart for Brighton, and Mrs. Bennet had insisted on having a party for the officers, much to her younger daughters' delight. Wickham had declined an invitation from his fellow officers to walk with them from Meryton, for they had declared their intention of stopping at several shops along the way to settle their accounts; such encounters would have been exceedingly awkward for him, considering that all his funds had recently been spent in ill-played card games at the tavern. George Wickham was accustomed to leaving towns in haste, by night. The idea of parting with a place in broad daylight at an appointed time was a relatively new concept to him, and one which he did not relish, for it gave shopkeepers ample opportunity to confront him and demand payment of his debts. Thus, he had made it a point to avoid the main streets of Meryton for several days.
As he walked towards his fellow guests, he briefly considered what a disappointment Hertfordshire had been. In the first few days, his hopes had soared as all the young women in the county had vied for his attention. Even one of the local beauties, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, had taken an interest in him!
And then, he learned the unbelievable. Not one of the pretty young ladies had a sizable fortune! The father of the famous Miss Bennets owned an estate which was entailed, leaving his daughters all but penniless.
Wickham had tried to salvage what he could of the situation when he learned that Miss Mary King, a pale, freckled creature, had inherited a fortune of ten thousand pounds. It was nauseating to flatter such a plain, silly creature, but like any dedicated fortune hunter, the officer played his part dutifully. Fortunately for him, the young woman was unaccustomed to men paying her any mind, and was soon infatuated. But then, her uncle – impossible man! – observed them together, and straightaway decided that his niece was worthy of a better match. Against her protests, the young lady was transported miles away to Liverpool. And Wickham knew that he had lost another investment.
Taking up a glass of wine from the refreshment table, George Wickham wove his way into the crowd. As he was passing by a group of young ladies, he overheard their conversation.
"So what have you heard about Miss Anne Edwards?" Mrs. Harriet Forster was murmuring to her companions. "Have any of you actually met her?"
"I did," Sophia Long proudly stated. "She seems like a sweet thing but is so painfully shy! I found it difficult to obtain even a monosyllable from her."
Wickham swallowed the contents of his wineglass impatiently and used all of his willpower to refrain from glancing up at the sky in exasperation. How much longer would these villagers insist on dwelling upon the topic of Miss Anne Edwards? He had heard the story ten times already. Mr. Bennet, returning from a rare business trip to London, had noticed the girl lying unconscious by the road (Wickham was rather surprised that a man as indolent as Mr. Bennet had noticed anything besides the pages of a book, but that aside) and had brought her home. His daughters and Mr. Jones feared that she would not live, but she had. Curiously, when she awakened, she remembered nothing of her former life. The apothecary made the diagnosis of amnesia, but some (primarily Mrs. Bennet), insisted that the girl was willfully denying memories of the past in order to continue living on Mr. Bennet's generosity. The debates surrounding the girl's origins were long and spirited, and George Wickham was heartily sick of them. Penniless young ladies without connections were of no interest to him.
"Is she here today?" Mrs. Forster persisted.
"Yes, indeed!" Sophia Long exclaimed. "That is her, sitting on the garden bench with Elizabeth Bennet."
She gestured discretely in their general direction. Everyone in the group looked over. Wickham, out of sheer boredom, followed suit.
The sight which met his eyes nearly caused him to lose his footing from shock.
At the other end of the garden sat Elizabeth Bennet and a young woman – a young woman who Wickham knew very well.
It did not matter that her hair was done up in a simple knot at the back of her head rather than in the most fashionable styles of the day. It did not matter that she was wearing a plain cotton gown instead of silk. He would have known Darcy's darling little sister if she were wearing a burlap sack!
As he stared at the young woman, an idea began to slowly form in his conniving mind. But first, he had to confirm a few vital pieces of information.
Looking around, he noticed Lydia Bennet standing by herself, pouting. He decided to put the girl to use.
Walking briskly towards her, Wickham greeted the downcast maiden,
"Good afternoon, Miss Bennet."
"O Mr. Wickham!" the fifteen-year-old cried out, brightening at the sight of him. "We had quite despaired of you! I am so happy that you came."
"And so am I," he said. Then, without further ado, he asked, "I understand that there have been many interesting changes at Longbourn since I was here last – you now have a guest staying with you?"
"You must mean Anne," Lydia replied with an unladylike yawn.
"Yes, I do. How good of your family to take her in! Is that her, by any chance, sitting by your sister?"
Lydia nodded, clearly annoyed that he wished to discuss any young lady besides herself.
"She seems very pretty. Is it true what they say – that she cannot remember her past?"
"Yes."
"She remembers nothing? No places, no faces, no family?"
"No. She did not even know the color of her own hair until Lizzy showed her the braid."
"Who do you think she is?" Wickham persisted.
"We do not know," Lydia returned, exasperated. "She was unable to tell us her name. It was Lizzy who decided to call her 'Anne Edwards'".
"And has no one come to claim her?" the officer asked, with bated breath. He could only imagine what Colonel Fitzwilliam would do if he ever found out that Wickham had toyed with Georgiana again – he had to be absolutely certain that the gentleman was nowhere in the vicinity.
"Not a single person!" Lydia exclaimed. "Papa says that she is probably unwanted by her own family, if they be living. Mary thinks that she may be a stowaway from an orphanage. It has been weeks, and Mama says that no one will ever come, and that Longbourn will always have another person to provide for. I do not mind her so much myself – she is jolly to talk to and never scolds like Jane, Lizzy and Mary do."
"She indeed sounds like a remarkable young woman," Wickham said, repressing a satisfied, triumphant smile. "Would you be so good as to introduce me to her?"
Although loathe to relinquish an officer to Anne or anyone else, Lydia saw no alternative but to walk with him across the grass, in the direction of the unsuspecting young woman.
George Wickham was almost giddy. What a beautiful stroke of fortune this was! Georgiana Darcy and her thirty thousand pounds were but a few steps in front of him, unknown and unprotected. Her brother had to believe that she was dead, somehow, since he had not torn through all of Hertfordshire seeking her. With him and his hot-tempered cousin out of the way, all that remained now was to flatter the maiden and persuade her new friends that he, George Wickham, was truly, deeply in love with their guest. It would not be difficult to do – he had nearly tempted the girl into an elopement a few months ago, and only loyalty to her brother had prevented her from going to Gretna Green with him. And now, she did not remember that she had a brother!
"Lizzy, I have been telling Mr. Wickham about Anne, and he wishes to become acquainted with her," Lydia said shortly.
"Miss Bennet, it is wonderful to see you again," Wickham said with a smile. "As your delightful sister was saying, I would be forever grateful if you would do me the honor of introducing me to your seatmate, of whom I have already heard much."
Elizabeth Bennet curtly made the introduction. Wickham eyed the golden-haired maiden in front of him warily, hoping that his familiar face would not awaken any memories.
It did not. Georgiana Darcy – no, Miss Anne Edwards - merely murmured,
"A pleasure, sir."
Feeling himself on safe ground, Mr. Wickham masterfully lowered his voice into a tone which, from great experience, he knew would set a feminine heart aflutter,
"A very great pleasure, indeed, madam… forgive me for intruding upon your quiet little niche here, but as an unworthy moth is drawn to a brilliant lamp, so was I drawn hither by your beauty…"
There you have it! Our favorite villain has a second chance to steal Georgiana Darcy's enormous fortune. I don't want to rewrite all of "Wickham's Second Attempt" from Wickham's perspective, so I'll leave this as a oneshot, but that book has plenty 'scope for imagination' as Anne of Green Gables would say.