Author's Notes: Wickham makes his return here, and well, luck puts the right lady in his path, but whether that is a good thing or bad is not for me to say.
Edited to add: in a private message, someone brought up a detail that could be confusing to the reader. While it was originally clarified in the next chapter, upon consideration, I believe it's best explained at the point of potential confusion, so the chapter has been edited accordingly.
Chapter 6
Courting a Good Opinion
George Wickham lay low for nearly two weeks until all his obvious bruises healed, though he had spoken with Mrs. Younge soon after he arrived in town. She had assured him that Maria Montcraven was still free and looking for a handsome young husband. She even assured him that she could procure him an invitation to a ball that Mrs. Montcraven intended to attend in three weeks time. Happily, he had enough funds (probably because he had been too busy hiding to gamble it away) to procure a truly fine suit of clothes for the evening as his preferred tailor would no longer extend him credit. However, he knew that he needed to make a good impression and as he could not cut a dash in a red uniform, he would be assured that what he did wear would be well-tailored and striking.
The night of the ball he went over all the information Mrs. Younge had given him on the widow, her likes and dislikes, her appearance, how to best impress her on introduction. To his surprise (confident though he was) it went exactly as smoothly as he had hoped it would. He and Mrs. Younge arrived together, but she quickly left him once the all important introduction to Maria Montcraven happened. He knew well enough that she would find her own entertainment and her own way home.
When Mrs. Younge first pointed his quarry out to him, Wickham was pleased to note that Maria Montcraven was indeed as handsome a woman as described, though more angular and slender than his tastes generally ran to, not that it would have changed anything but his approach, as her fortune and position were the primary draws; however, he was pleased to note that it would be no hardship to consider wooing or even bedding her. On the other hand the very fact that she was not unattractive meant that he would likely have plenty of competition for her attention, even with her reputation as a rather fastidious and aloof woman, so he would have to be at his most ingratiating.
It was fortunate that Mrs. Younge had provided him with enough information on Mrs. Montcraven's particular tastes to allow him to determine his best approach. He knew she was extraordinarily vain of her appearance and convinced she looked much younger than her 32 years, which explained in part her determination to don pale colors now that her mourning was complete. Tonight it was a lavender dress in the latest fashion, simple yet elegant, but more suited to a younger woman. Nevertheless, he still acted exactly as he planned.
Although Mrs. Younge had a prior acquaintance with the lady, Wickham first circulated the edges of the room, sending admiring glances her way whenever he thought he could catch her eye. Once he was certain that he had sufficiently captured her attention, he then let Mrs. Younge know he was ready for an introduction. He had his most charming smile on display.
Mrs. Younge spoke first. "Mrs. Montcraven, how good it is to see you here," she said. "It has been such a time."
"Indeed," Mrs. Montcraven said, her voice rich with condescension as if she were granting a privilege to a lesser being. "I hardly knew whether we would meet again so soon." She then turned a rather more appraising glance on Wickham. "Will you introduce me to your companion?"
"Of course," Mrs. Younge said, as if that were not the entire reason why they had come in the first place. "This is George Wickham. Mr. Wickham, Mrs. Montcraven."
"Enchanted," Wickham said, taking the hand Mrs. Montcraven regally extended and giving it a slightly longer than proper kiss. "I have been most eager to meet the loveliest lady here."
"You are quite the flatterer," Mrs. Montcraven said, though her slight smile indicated her pleasure in the compliment.
"Not at all, madam," Wickham said, "merely stating the obvious. Surely there can be no two opinions on the matter."
Mrs. Montcraven smiled, and at this point, her job done, Mrs. Younge took the opportunity to excuse herself saying she had spotted another old acquaintance that she simply must speak with.
As soon as she left, Mrs. Montcraven looked up at Wickham and said, "Mr. Wickham, I must inform you that your reputation has proceeded you."
Wickham managed to keep his face neutral, while fervently hoping it was his better reputation that she heard. "Might I hope that it was all to the good," he said in a low tone.
"It rather depends on your definition of good," she replied with a flirtatious snap of her fan.
That was not particularly helpful, but he ploughed forward gamely. "For the purposes of a ball, I am known as quite a good dancer," he said. "I would find it a great pleasure to demonstrate if you would be willing to grant me a dance."
"It would please me to see you demonstrate your skills on the dance floor, and I trust you do not exaggerate as I cannot abide dancing with a poor partner, and it would be a pity to end our acquaintance so quickly."
"Mrs Montcraven, that would be a pity indeed," Wickham said, relief allowing him to speak in his most seductive tones. "But I believe I can safely promise not to disappoint."
~o~O~o~
It was two weeks after the Netherfield Ball, and Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley were both calling at Longbourn. Darcy having made his decision had found himself somewhat unsure of the progress of his courtship with Elizabeth, as his only experience was in fending off the attentions of others rather than expressing any intentions of his own. He had never really given any thought as to what the proper length of a courtship would be, probably because until he met Elizabeth, he had never really considered that a courtship would be necessary on his side. Even now he was eager to skip to a proposal as he had certainly made up his mind, yet there was something exhilarating in his pursuit of Elizabeth's good opinion, of being free to indulge in flirtation, knowing that he was sincere in his intentions.
He had managed some more moments with her during the past week, privately rejoicing that even with the absence of Miss Mary's betrothed, Mrs Bennet was still too distracted by the wedding preparations and the thoughts of Bingley and Jane to pay too much heed to his and Elizabeth's conversations, which allowed them more time to get to know one another and take pleasure in one another's company.
However, the reason for his visit today was less of a pleasure than usual, as he was taking his leave before returning to town to see his sister. He disliked the thought of leaving Elizabeth, but he took comfort that the separation would be short as he had just the day before accepted Bingley's invitation for both him and Georgiana to spend Christmas at Netherfield, and thus he would soon be given the pleasure of introducing his sister to the woman he fully intended to marry.
Darcy was not a man in general who made impulsive decisions, but once they were made he disliked any delay in implementing them. However, much though he wished to declare himself immediately, he had discovered that there were pleasures in the process of courtship that it would have been a pity to forego. There was something irresistible in the thought of truly winning Elizabeth's approval and affection for himself alone, something he had never really considered before, since he had known since his youth that his circumstances made it incredibly improbable that any woman would refuse his suit. However, Elizabeth made him realize how precious a genuine regard could be.
He felt it was fortunate that the day was mild enough that Bingley could suggest taking a turn in the garden. Mrs. Bennet eager to put Jane with Bingley gave her permission, barely waiting to hear that Elizabeth and Darcy would accompany them. Mary was claimed by Mrs. Bennet, and the other two sisters claimed it was too cold. Mr. Bennet, determined to avoid the flurry of wedding talk, was safely ensconced in his bookroom, a fact that Darcy rather rejoiced in as he suspected that Mr. Bennet would notice far too much too soon. Not that Darcy had any particular desire to hide his attachment to Elizabeth, but he wished to remain out of the center of attention for as long as possible.
In any event, once outside the two couples put distance between them in order to indulge in more private conversations.
"So you are for town, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said, not hiding her unhappiness nearly as well as he believed she thought she was.
"Yes," he said. "I cannot put it off anymore. However..." He noticed a brightening of her expression at the word. "However, I will soon be returning as Bingley has invited both my sister and me to spend Christmas here with him."
He definitely was not mistaken at the way she suddenly beamed at him. "Are you indeed, sir? I thought you had other plans."
"None that could not be easily altered," he said. "The country is more pleasant than town in the winter, and I could not ask for more pleasant company."
Elizabeth's mouth twisted in a mischievous grin. "I am sure Miss Bingley will greatly appreciate the sentiment."
"I think not, Miss Elizabeth," he said, with a slight smile of his own. "Not when the company I am referring to is not hers."
"Ah, well, you and Mr. Bingley are old friends..."
"Will you always wilfully misunderstand me?" he asked.
"When I find it useful or amusing, it is highly likely, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said.
"Or if you want to divert my attention from something as well, I suspect," he said. "I am sure you are quite aware of the company I find most pleasant, and I am hoping that I might have the honor of introducing my sister to you."
"I would very much like to meet your sister," she said sincerely. "Though perhaps I should be worried if she is at all as intimidating as her brother can be."
"Hardly," Darcy said. "She's a rather shy girl, more easily intimidated than intimidating. She is rather uncomfortable in unfamiliar environments."
"Then I shall do my best not to make her uncomfortable. What are her favorite pursuits?" Elizabeth asked, having dropped her teasing.
"She is particularly fond of the pianoforte," he said. "I think if she had her way, it would be her sole object of study. However, she also draws rather well."
"And like her brother is she fond of reading?" Elizabeth asked.
"She is rather fonder of novels than I would wish," he said. "But, yes, she enjoys reading."
"As to other accomplishments, is it safe for me to assume that she is one of the half dozen ladies you would deem truly accomplished?"
"I believe she is well on her way," he said, and then added, "and I am sure she would enjoy meeting another of the women I truly esteem accomplished."
"As would I," Elizabeth said, the teasing glint back in her eye. "Such a formidable creature must be seen to be believed."
"Miss Elizabeth," he said, "you may not have all the fashionable accomplishments, but the ones you have are remarkable."
"You are all politeness, sir," she said with a slight degree of unease, realizing what he was saying.
"It is not politeness but honesty," he said. "I would not have you doubt me."
He had managed to silence her as a sudden blush suffused her cheeks and she looked away as if abashed. Finally, as the silence stretched out between them, she said quietly, "I do not doubt you, sir."
What he would have said next would have to wait as they were rejoined by Bingley and Miss Bennet, who was feeling chilled. He supposed it was for the best, since it would hardly do for him to say more and then be forced to leave for town immediately thereafter. As it was he could bask in the warmth of her farewell.
"And I pray, Miss Elizabeth, to never give you cause to do so."
~o~O~o~
George Wickham made his way carefully and discreetly to Mrs. Montcraven's town house that evening hoping that her invitation to a private dinner would lead to the realization of his greater ambitions. He had been showering attention on her for a week and had been invited to escort her to an exclusive dinner party when the gentleman who had been due to accompany her had to bow out because of an indisposition. Of course, she had taken pains to explain that without him the hostess would be seating thirteen at the table, something that could not be tolerable. While it was slightly vexing to be issued the invitation so entirely at the last moment under the clear assumption not that he was eager to spend time with her but that he had nothing of any import to do, he was not unaccustomed to that particular attitude in the very rich, and he flattered himself that she wished his company in order to see how he conducted himself among those of her circle. It was a good sign that she was considering him as something more than a potential lover.
While he suspected that he could obtain some valuable gifts from her if he pleased her well enough, he kept his eyes on the greater prize. After all, he knew that she had been Sir Richard Montcraven's only child, and with no other relatives of any consequence nor any entail upon the estates, she had inherited the whole of the Montcraven fortune, which made Georgiana's dowry seem like pocket money, especially considering that he would have had to fight Darcy to acquire it as he had discovered only after the failed elopement that her dowry was in trust so that he could not touch it even as her husband without the consent of Darcy, and he knew that Darcy would have made it as difficult as possible for him. No, this was a much better opportunity.
After all, what could be better than to marry a widow in sole control of her own fortune? That much he had managed to ascertain through a number of contacts. If he played his cards correctly, it would soon be in his hands to do with as he willed. Mrs. Montcraven was somewhat demanding and imperious, as was evidenced in the fact that her first husband had taken on the Montcraven name rather than she taking on his, but Wickham had practice enough in dealing with the overly particular. Had he not charmed the elder Mr. Darcy for years? If only he had not died when he did, Wickham was certain that he would have done much better than being left a pittance and a living. Damn Darcy for being such a fastidious, moralizing prig. If he had half the opportunities of pleasure that man had just by luck of birth, he certainly would not have wasted them as Darcy did.
He also felt confident that he was closer to his goal with this invitation issued after the dinner party where he felt he acquitted himself particularly well, listening when required, flattering when necessary, and always deferring to the opinions of Mrs. Montcraven. She had seemed pleased, or at least as pleased as she ever seemed to allow herself to be in public. Now all he had to do was convince her that he would be the perfect husband.
Almost immediately after he knocked, the door was opened and he was led to what was clearly Mrs. Montcraven's private sitting room. The room was very fine, opulent even, and some refreshments were set out on a small table. While he was tempted, it would not do to make a move until his hostess arrived. He suspected that this was yet another test, one more way for her to judge his character. While he had understood what she had been looking for during the dinner party and even during their first meeting, at the moment, he was unsure what it was that would serve him best here, so he settled for looking around the room, at the paintings on the wall, the small statuary, the bookshelf filled with a small but select number of volumes. He was still perusing them, when the door opened behind him.
Immediately turning, he saw Mrs. Montcraven. She was wearing an evening dress in light blue, low cut in the front, but not so much as to make it obvious that she was planning for seduction, though he could not but be certain that that was her intention as her hair was in a far more relaxed style than he had seen her wear before, and she was not wearing her usual amount of jewelry beyond the pins in her hair nor was she wearing gloves. He gazed at her a moment, letting his mouth drop open slightly as if entranced, before crossing the room and taking the hand that she held out imperiously.
"Mrs. Montcraven, you are indeed a vision. I have never seen anything lovelier," he said, before he gave her hand a lingering kiss.
"I should hardly like to be considered a thing," she said, "but I will accept the compliment for the moment in the spirit I am sure you intended it."
There was a slight feeling of unease, as Wickham realized that this test might be more of a trial than he thought. But he did his best to recover. "I apologize for the lack of creativity, as I find myself dumbstruck in the contemplation of your loveliness every time I see you."
"Slightly better," she said. She made her way over to a chair near the table with the food and sat down regally. "Do be seated, Mr. Wickham. Or perhaps you would care for refreshments now."
"It all does look delicious," he said, keeping his eyes on her, "perhaps I could prepare a plate for you."
"Thank you," she said, and then proceeded to tell him exactly what she wished and asked that he pour out the wine, which he did with as much style and flair as he could muster before he prepared a plate for himself and seated himself as close to her as he could.
He watched as she nibbled at her food and tried to convey as much desire as he could while they ate and he asked questions about her preferences, how she had spent her day, anything he could think of to make her think of him as desiring to know all about her. As she was an avid horsewoman who devoted quite a bit of time to seeing that her stables had some of the finest horses in the country, most of the conversation revolved around her latest acquisitions and her determination that even the farm horses show superior form.
Once she exhausted the topic to her satisfaction, she then turned them around. "You are very curious, Mr. Wickham, but should I not also hear about you?"
Wickham stiffened slightly. "There is nothing of particular interest to say. When I am away from you, it seems as if I merely exist until we meet again."
"Very pretty words," she said, putting aside her now empty plate. "Not that I believe in their sincerity."
"Madam, I assure you..."
She interrupted him. "No, I have no need of false assurances. You are very practiced with flattery. Now I would like to see just how well you can match pretty words with deeds." She leaned forwards a bit, her voice suddenly turned seductive.
"Mrs. Montcraven," Wickham said with a show of reluctance. "I have too great a respect for you to wish to treat you so casually. Simply being able to spend time with you has had charms all of its own."
The lady raised a brow. "I am not asking to be treated casually, but you can hardly expect me to wish a continuance of this... friendship without knowing how well I would be treated. I have no intention of entering any other state without being fully acquainted with the gentleman's particular charms. It would be too rash."
Her words both gave him hope and worried him, as it seemed that she was indeed entertaining the notion of matrimony but not without knowing his skills as a lover. While he had every confidence in his prowess, it was rather daunting to know how much might rest on his ability to please her. Nevertheless, he was willing to risk it for the chance at a fortune.
"I understand," Wickham said, coming to kneel at Mrs. Montcraven's feet. "It would be unfortunate to discover that the man you have chosen, no matter how devoted, would not make your pleasure his duty. And you are too beautiful to have to settle for anything less than full and complete adoration." He took her hand in his and began to kiss it passionately.
Mrs. Montcraven smiled at him from under heavy lidded eyes. "I do love being adored," she said.
~to be continued~
Next up on Monday: Chapter 7 - Begging the Question. As to who is begging what question to whom, that will have to be seen.
End Notes:
Explanation for December 12, 2015 edit. I was vague at the top because I know some people really don't like spoilery information of any kind. Anyway, it was brought up to me that it was confusing that Mrs. Montcraven still had the same name as her father. I do/did explain in the next chapter, but thinking it over, I realized that it would be best to put the explanation now, so that readers don't think it's some kind of mistake rather than deliberate. So it is here now, and I can't believe that I didn't think about this earlier. Sorry about that.
I have to admit that while I have a great deal of fun writing a miserable Wickham (think, rubbing my hands together and cackling gleefully over his misery like a villain from an old melodrama), I have a lot of trouble writing a charming one, as I loathe the character so much. I have to keep reminding myself that he's a guppy going after a shark. Or maybe a lamprey, since he's really a parasitic organism. And I also found myself occasionally giving him insincere dialogue that ended up unconsciously echoing Darcy's more sincere dialogue (since the Darcy part was written first). While I thought I might change it, I also considered that that was rather the point, not what was said, but the intentions behind it, and Wickham is rather a mimic.
In any event, I found myself getting literally nauseated (or is it nauseous? That's one pair of words I always confuse) writing some of the dialogue between Wickham and Mrs. Montcraven, which is why there is a very limited amount of time devoted to their courtship. That and the fact that if for some reason I ever broke down and wrote a sex scene (which is highly improbable as I can barely manage to write kissing), it certainly would be for one of the couples I like not one I can hardly stomach.
Also, I had to include some Darcy and Elizabeth as honestly, there is only so much of Wickham that I can take at a time, especially when he's not actively suffering and is smarming about. And it was fun writing a Darcy who isn't entirely sure of what he is doing as he's never expected to have to try to win a woman's good opinion, and as I'm not really as witty as Elizabeth, I hope her teasing of him came off well enough.
To Chapter 4 Guest reviewer (Dec 9) and the other guest who agreed about Caroline being a liar:
I actually agree with you that Caroline was worse overall (I really can't stand her, which is why I was rather disconcerted when I was comparing her behavior with Darcy's up until just after the Bennets' stay at Netherfield in the novel and discovered that Darcy's behavior was not that much better than hers). However, at the time of the Netherfield Ball, she hadn't actually done any of those things which was why I didn't feel like at that point in the novel a massive comeuppance was due her (now if this story were set at Pemberley, post-Hunsford, all bets would be off and she might find herself more than six inches deep in mud with her hair being positively wild; it's not like she could wear it as well as Elizabeth).
But I have to say that even if her behavior was worse, both she and Darcy were on the same side when it came to breaking up Jane and Bingley. Their motivations and behavior may have been different, but the outcome was the same. Darcy may have had the better intentions, but then they do say that the road to hell is paved with them, and it looks like it was his argument rather than Caroline's that was the convincer for Bingley (whom I blame for his part in abandoning Jane; it's not like they chained him up or anything). Look, I'm not really defending Caroline; it's just that I realized I was cutting Darcy a lot of slack for not too dissimilar behavior, and that kept me from being as cruel to Caroline as I could have. She's definitely not a nice character, but here I just wanted her to be a pest and annoyance not a villain.
And just a reminder that Darcy says in his letter: "There is but one part of my conduct in the whole affair on which I do not reflect with satisfaction; it is, that I condescended to adopt the measures of art so far as to conceal from him your sister's being in town. I knew it myself, as it was known to Miss Bingley; but her brother is even yet ignorant of it. ... Perhaps this concealment, this disguise was beneath me; it is done, however, and it was done for the best. On this subject I have nothing more to say, no other apology to offer. If I have wounded your sister's feelings, it was unknowingly done; and though the motives which governed me may to you very naturally appear insufficient, I have not yet learnt to condemn them."
He may not have lied directly, but I think this qualifies as a lie by omission. However, unlike Caroline, he does change and behave better becoming the hero we love so much. It's just that he does behave rather badly (though not horribly) before Hunsford.
Also, by the by, despite my seeming defense of Caroline Bingley (why in the world am I defending that shrew?), it's not as if I am nice to her in this story. I'm just not as cruel as I could be or as cruel as I am to Wickham. She has a couple more appearances to make, and she doesn't exactly come out on top in either of them.
To Pumza: Thank you so much. Glad to share your opinion of Claudio, but also very glad you're enjoying the story and Galahad (though alas, that is his last appearance, but at least it was a good one).
To Raina: You're welcome.
As always all feedback is welcome, but reviews are especially appreciated.
