I know nothing about marriage laws, legality, or anything like that. Everything in this chapter has been pulled straight out of my… hm… well, you know where it was pulled from. Thanks for reading, and I hope that my playing fast and loose with such things doesn't horribly bother anyone. Sorry if it does.
The pretty, younger, unattached Jones girl was walking towards him, a brazenly daring look quirking her full lips upward. Wickham had known that this girl was different. She would not be adverse to a little bit of fun. Conveniently, she seemed to be without her disapproving older sister and the rather Darcy like young man she was engaged to.
Wickham pondered, only momentarily, the reasons why he should ignore her. He was, after all and once again, on a mission. Unbeknownst to Darcy, Wickham still had friends in Lambton. Not everyone, as is usually the case, was on the side of the handsome, brooding Master of Pemberly. Relying on the charity of his rather shady friend, Wickham was able to stay in town for a bit, recuperating and plotting, soberly this time, his next strategy of revenge. Wickham knew he would succeed this time, for the news of Darcy's desperation to find a preacher was soon quiet a valuable piece of information in his hands. Was it possible that the annulment papers had somehow been lost in the disastrous fray? He somehow knew that Lady Catherine had had something to do with it all. Why else would all of the available ministers in town be conveniently (or unconveniently depending on whose side was taken) out of town for a disclosed amount of time.
Wickham chuckled; his luck was changing it appeared. The girl was walking ever closer. She was not as silly as Lydia, he mused. This pleased him as much as it scared him. Would he be able to persuade her to his will as easily as he could other women? Perhaps there was no need. She looked as if she were the huntress and he the prey. It was this thought that made Wickham decide to turn around and confront the approaching girl head on.
"Miss. Jones, I believe," he said, extending his hand towards her as she smiled brilliantly at him. He gave her his most charming look, dimples popping from the corners of his mouth.
"Yes. But please, call me Rene. I feel we should be on more… intimate terms, don't you?"
Wickham's insides flipped up and over. "Yes, I do. You will call me George?"
Her only answer was a smile. Brazenly, she placed her hand on his arm, and let him walk her down the street in the direction they had just come from. "Tell me… George, has Mr. Darcy always treated you so abominably? And you do not mean to seriously tell me that Miss. Bennet is truly the object of your affections? Surely you prefer women of a… younger vintage and more exotic taste."
Wickham, for once, was at a loss. He did not know how to respond to this openly scandalous talk. His flirting had always been within the bounds of propriety until he knew for sure the lady was his for the taking; charming and polite until she was ready for the plucking was his strategy.
Obviously, the young girl was quite ready for him to abandon all charm and propriety. Obviously, she was a step or two ahead of him even. So occupied was he with this wonderfully welcome anomaly, that he never even realized that she was leading him back down the road towards Pemberly.
"Jonathan, surely you can make up more papers. And surely a marriage certificate is easier to forge than annulment papers." Elaina whined and pleaded with her fiancé, tugging on his arm and looking pleadingly into his downcast gaze. She had cornered him at the Inn as he was helping her father take his leave towards Pemberly. She kept him there, reminding him that the girls needed him to escort them back. Lydia and Kitty had not wished to stay, and instead, shared the carriage ride back to the estate with Mr. Jones. Richards and Elaina stood in the same room her father and Richards had just enjoyed a good whiskey in. It was a sign of trust that Mr. Jones had left the couple alone together.
"It will never work! It does not matter how many fake marriage certificates we get Wickham to sign, it still will not be legal. His name might be willfully signed, but we must not forget the bride, and the document itself will not be real. And not to mention that I've never even laid eyes on an official marriage document! I'd have no idea how to make one up!"
"Wickham won't notice! I doubt he's ever seen a marriage certificate either Jonathan. Come on! It's just for fun… and for revenge. Besides, you obviously have never heard of the Winslow case." Elaina distanced herself from Mr. Richards and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him superiorly.
Richards sighed. "No, no I have not. Please enlighten me as to what the Winslow case is."
"It 1672, or somewhere thereabouts, a couple was duped by a traveling minister into thinking they were married. Well, somehow they found out that they weren't, but it was too late. The young lady was very pregnant by that time, and it had all become quite a scandal. Her father, in an attempt to save his daughter's good name, wrote up a marriage certificate, had both his daughter and her would be husband sign the document, which he then sent to a church in London to have made official." Elaine smiled triumphantly.
Richards, however, was quite dumbfounded and confused. "And what does this have to do with Wickham?"
"Oh you are dull aren't you!"
Richards glared and sat huffily in a chair. Elaina realized she was losing him and threw herself across the couch closest to his chair, smiling at him lovingly. "I'm sorry. I realize that men have no imagination when it comes to matchmaking and marriage. It's quite forgiven." Putting her weight on her arms against the arm of the couch, she reached her torso across the small space between her chair and his and kissed his cheek. "You draw up papers, quickly I might add, we get Wickham to sign it, then send it to a church in London with some similar type of story. The marriage becomes legal, and… oh Jonathan! Do you not see how brilliantly hilarious it will be?"
Richards chuckled. "I suppose. Yes, yes, I do see how funny it will be. And it is not beyond our capabilities."
"Not at all! We are, after all, literary artists of the first degree."
Richards nodded his head in firm agreement. "How much time do I have?"
"Not much, not much. I told her we would give her an hour of rambling." Elaina looked thoughtful for a second. "I think she needs more time. She said she didn't even need an hour though. She can't do it in an hour! I realize that it is perhaps not the most… realistic plan, but… Rene has always wanted to see how quickly she could get a man to agree to marriage. She simply insisted Jonathan!"
Had she… had she really just… just. Had she really grabbed his backside just then! Wickham was shocked, elated, scared. "Rene… Rene, I must have you. Right now." The girl didn't even blush, just smiled seductively. It was too much for him. Wickham pulled Rene around and crushed his lips against hers, his hands starting to rove as it became apparent that she was quite a willing participant.
Rene pulled herself away and allowed herself one more sultry smile. "I cannot," she said.
Wickham's mouth dropped, dismay clouding his eyes. "But! But!"
"Oh, I want to George. I want to. But I won't."
"You won't! What exactly do you mean by that!"
"It is quite simple," she began. "I know how much I'm worth dear George. I am worth quite a lot actually."
"And I do not have the money to buy you then?" complained Wickham. "What was your meaning then? What games do you play with me?"
"No games, dear Wickham," said Rene, slinking her arms around her neck and pulling him close. "There is nothing I desire more than you." She played with the word desire, rolling it off her tongue. "But I cannot give myself to you freely. Any man who has me must prove that he truly wants me." Her eyes glittered towards him as she said these words, beckoning him to become lost in them.
And he was lost. He had never known anyone as startling as this girl. He would do anything to take her, and he told her so.
"Marry me."
The two words knocked him from his haze, but as she continued to speak, he could not help but fall back under.
"I'll be your completely. No man will ever be able to claim me as his own, but you dear Wickham. Am I not a prize worthy enough? Do you not wish to claim such riches?
Somehow, her words were so tempting. She was! He did! "How soon?"
"Now."
The fact that there were no preachers left in town never once entered Wickham's clouded mind.
"You look perfect!" Elaina clapped her hands together and smiled triumphantly at a disguised Mr. Richards. They had temporarily borrowed a small chapel that had been left unlocked by a quickly retreating, bribed minister. Candles were lit in the windows, illuminating them in the darkening street. It was the signal Rene and Elaina had agreed on.
"Yes, and we still have ten minutes," said Richards
"If she succeeds at her goal of an hour. Which I do not think she will."
"I don't know Ella. I think there is certainly a good chance of success on her part."
"Oh, really?" She glared at him fiercely. "And why is that?"
But Richards was not able to answer, for Wickham came bursting through the doors, practically dragging Rene behind him.
Elaina quickly ducked behind a pew, hiding herself from Wickham's vision. Richards, who wore an overly large preacher's robe with a pillow stuffed inside, screwed his face up as if he were squinting. Though it could have been the fake mustache placed precariously on his upper lip. The glue Elaina had used to secure it stank horribly and its bristly hairs tickled his nose. "My children," he droned in deep, aged tones, "Why have you came here in such a frantic fashion?" Elaina thought he was being quite overly dramatic, and had to stifle a groan.
"We've come to be…" Wickham seemed to be at a loss for words. "We've come to be- to be-" The last word was proving difficult for him to choke out.
"To be what, dear boy?" teased Preacher Richards successfully keeping a grin from his lips.
"To be-" Still Wickham could not seem to finish his sentence.
"We've come to be married," spoke Rene without hesitation, uttering the word Wickham could not force himself to say. She had been momentarily stunned by the appearance of her future brother in law looking like a stuffed goose. She had also been so appalled by his horrid acting skills that it had taken much concentration not to burst out into laughter.
"Indeed?" groaned Richards.
Rene stifled a giggle and Elaina, safely hidden behind her pew clamped both hands over her mouth. "Yes indeed Reverend. We realize that it is quite unorthodox, but we are in a tight predicament. You see, I am somewhat… oh how to say this… in a certain delicate situation." She blushed on cue and placed a hand protectively over her flat stomach.
Wickham, who had started to rethink this hasty decision, completely changed his mind with the false words that fell from Rene's lips. She was perfect! She was as much of a thief and liar as he was a cad and a coward! How could he not wish to marry a woman as deceitful as himself?
"Yes, Reverend, m-m-mar-ry us." He tripped over the word, but finally managed to speak it in its entirety.
"I cannot condone such situations!" condemned Richards in lofty tone's. What is he doing, thought Elaina and Rene at once. He continued. "I will not sanctify as holy an institution as marriage with your tainted relationship. It would be sin to do so!" Richards looked down on them disapprovingly. Wickham squirmed in his boots and Rene glared openly at her future, now former she hoped, brother in law. For she would kill him when this was all over…
"No, I will not marry you in the traditional way," finished Richards. Rene narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "However, as you are in a," he coughed and looked uncomfortable, shifting on the spot where he stood, "delicate situation, then I believe there is something I can do."
No one spoke as Richards paused for dramatic effect.
Wickham however, was never good at waiting. "Well?" he demanded.
"You may sign a legal marriage certificate. I will witness the signing, and then send the document to London to have it legalized. No ceremony will take place for such a desecration of the sanctity of marriage." Richards looked down his upturned nose and hairy mustache at the roguish couple.
The Jones girls once again suppressed laughter.
Within minutes, the papers were signed, and Richards had then safely stowed away in the inside pocket of his coat. He watched as Wickham drew his future sister in law from the church and asked, "When do we go after them?"
"As soon as possible," answered Elaina, rising from her cramped position behind the pew. "Now, I would say. Let's take the back exit from here and walk down the street as if coming to search for Rene from the direction of Pemberly. If she is proceeding as planned she has stopped out front on some premise or another to stall their imminent departure to some disreputable place or other." A disapproving sneer hovered momentarily on her face before Richards took her arm and hauled her towards the back room and back exit of the small church. She pulled her cloak up tight around her head and shoulders and clung to Richards' arm as they stepped out into the quiet darkness of early evening. Around the corner of the church, they spied Rene squatted on the ground, digging in her boot.
"A pebble, George, nothing more. Let me remove it and then I promise you we shall be on our way."
Wickham was obviously not a very patient man, and strode back and forth in front of her, mumbling incoherently.
Elaina stared at her sister, wondering at the power the young girl held. She had made this singly obsessed man momentarily forget his desperate search for revenge on the Darcy family in favor of, well, herself. It was quite amazing, and Elaina was more than a little impressed. She wondered if her sister would use her powers for good or… she laughed at her thoughts and urged Richards forward. Excitement was about to ensue.
"Rene!" exclaimed Richards, running toward the squatted figure digging in her boot. "Rene, we've been looking all over for you! Where have you been?"
Rene popped up as Richards skid to a halt in front of her. "Jonathan dear, I've been right here in Lambton the entire time," she stated as if she had been two feet from him all day long. "Where is your dear fiancé? Oh, there you are Elaina. I knew you could not be far. It's getting dreadfully late. Don't you believe Rachel and Papa will be worried sick over us by now? You inconsiderate children, I do believe it is time we headed home." Rene took Richards' and Elaina's arms in her own and headed down the path toward Pemberly, and away from Wickham.
Wickham, who had been completely befuddled by this exchange from the start, finally found his voice in the mess of confused thoughts his brain had become, and called out after her. "Wait! You are my wife! What the bloody hell do you think you are doing!" He took several large steps towards her as he spoke, his fists balling at his sides and his eyes passing wildly over the three figures on the street in front of him.
Richards stepped forward to defend Rene, but she pushed him back.
"Wickham, dear George, you were fun to play with for a while, but it is quite time for me to go to bed." She said all this as if she were a five year old dismissing her friend for the evening.
"MY WIFE!" he sputtered.
Rene laughed, a tinkling, light laugh that carried through the night and settled like lead in Wickham's stomach. "Will you do anything about it? Richards is excellent at hand to hand fighting don't you know. And I'm sure you are quite aware of Mr. Darcy's proficiency with a rapier. And please do not forget the short job my little brother made of you last night. Trounced by a five year old! Imagine! You are a laugh Georgie. But," she sighed, "You are also a coward. I have the distinct feeling that all your evil machinations are underhanded and carried out from quite a safe range. You wouldn't even dare attempt to fight the many people who would claw you to death over me. Notice the protective gleam in my sister's eyes. I should think she is writing you up as we speak, as some cowardly villain in her next novel. Richards too most likely." She laughed again. "I would leave town tonight Wickham. For I feel quite sure that within the next hour or two, Mr. Richards here, Mr. Darcy, my father, and my little brother will be scouring the town for the man you attempted to sabotage the master of Pemberly's marriage, and who forced Rene Jones to marry him when he didn't succeed."
"You… you can't do this," stammered Wickham, his face turning quite pale in the darkness.
"Oh, she can," assured Elaina. "She's used her fake tears on father too many times to count. He's such a softy, falls for it every time."
"She is a master," stated Richards softly, though his voice held an edge. "I believe it would be best for you to leave, and never make your face, nor even your name known here again." And he turned his back on the pale, astounded man, whose jaw would simply not close. As he started to walk away, Rene and Elaina mimicked him, catching up to him and each taking an arm. They walked silently away from Wickham, away from Lambton, and towards the soft lights and sounds of laughter emanating from the hall of Pemberly.
The Bennets had been gone from their second eldest daughter's home for two weeks when a London newspaper made its way into Elizabeth's hands through a letter she had received from Elaina Jones. The Jones clan had departed two days after Mr. Bennet himself had dragged the Bennet clan from Pemberly's hallowed halls. "The annulment papers have been found and destroyed my dear," he told him wife. "It is time we left the children alone. Mrs. Bennet, of course, was not quite in peaceful conjecture with her husband, but found that she could not curtail his desire in this. Therefore, two days after the "annulment papers" were found conveniently under Mr. Darcy's bed, the Bennets took their leave. Along with them, left Bingley, who sped to London to begin legal wedding preparations. He, at least, would do things right!
The Joneses could not be persuaded to stay longer, though the Darcys did try. Mr. Jones had secured quite a nice residence in London and was anxious to have his own family under his own roof. Mr. Richards, unfortunately for Darcy who had become quite used to the young man's quite convenient services, also took his leave. He said that he did not wish to be indebted to the Darcys for his entire lively hood. He would try to make it on his own. Elizabeth (who had read his early novels, figured that his once romantic and sorrowful themes would turn domestically tame and therefore uninteresting now that he had captured the desire of his heart and inspiration of his writing) secretly thought that he would be back working for her husband in less than six months.
Elaina's letter only proved her theory. Apparently he was having troubles securing a job. Whenever he mentioned Darcy as a reference, his interviewers shoved him from their offices. Elizabeth noted a rather smug look on Darcy's face when she read this part of the letter to him. She dropped the paper into her lap and looked amazed at her husband (For they had been married. Three days ago, by a minister who had come back early from his unexpectedly paid vacation).
"William, did you have anything to do with this?"
Darcy buried his nose in a book about the flight patterns of ducks.
"William, what did you do?"
Throwing the book down on the table, he stood abruptly from his chair. "It's deuced annoying to lose a good secretary Elizabeth!"
"But William!" she exclaimed laughing, "You'd never had one before Mr. Richards!"
"I never knew I'd needed one before," he grumbled.
Elaina's letter and the newspaper clipping fell from Elizabeth's lap and floated onto the floor as Elizabeth threw her arms around her husband's neck, laughing all the while. Elizabeth's laughter eased some of Darcy's annoyance at having lost a good secretary and prompted him to engage in activities involving his wife that caused the fallen letter and paper clipping to be quite forgotten for the time being. In fact, as Darcy picked Elizabeth off her feet, kidnapping her for the bedroom, the epistle would lay quite alone on the floor until the next afternoon, the small headline Secret Marriage Scandalizes London peeking out from under the gold table cloth that discretely swept the sitting room floor.
Secret Marriage Scandalizes LondonThe editor of this esteemed paper was shocked to find a marriage certificate stuffed in amongst his daily mail yesterday morning. Upon further examination, the certificate, which is dated a week ago today, quite shockingly contained the name of a very well known and respected lady of the ton. Suprisingly, Miss. Caroline Bingley, sister to a one Mr. Charles Bingley, has finally tied the knot. However, it is to no one this newspaper or its employees would ever have guessed. Matter of fact, it is no one we have ever even heard of. If anyone in polite society knows of a one Mr. George Wickham, we would certainly like to know who he is.
Rumors have indicated that he is a soldier who was recently stationed in the small country village next to Miss. Bingley's brother's country residence (which is rumored to be sprawling and tasteful). And while Miss. Bingley is certainly not from old money, and while she does not hail from a title of any sort, this writer had always assumed, as had everyone else, that she was seeking a gentleman to marry who could alleviate those obvious flaws in her circumstances.
However, what makes this situation so remarkably scandalous is that the bridegroom seems to be missing, and Miss. Bingley herself completely denies the marriage…