SUSPENDING PLEASURES-

CHAPTER 14 - SOME TROUBLE KEEPING HIS FRIENDS

In which Mr. Wickham appreciated his blessings

Mr. George Wickham was one of those happy creatures who have the particular skill to turn negative situations to their advantage. He had never had the stamina for reading and failed his theology courses spectacularly but his years in the university had made him a pretty good gambler. He had lost a living that had been promised to him but the sad tale of this injustice had earned him quite a few free ales in quite a few taverns. He had not excelled in the study of law but the lecturer on financial crimes liked to illustrate the legal principles by examples from real life crimes and Mr. Wickham had learned some new tricks and strategies that might be successfully used to defraud unsuspecting victims. Last summer at Ramsgate, he had not managed to marry a heiress but she had given him a handkerchief embroidered with her initials and he reckoned it was probably worth some money. He had seen the girl's brother at church on Sunday and while he did not know what the man was doing here his proximity would make blackmail easier as mailing a letter had become more difficult when the epidemic started and one did not wish to provide written evidence for blackmail anyway.

Recently, Mr. Wickham had joined a militia regiment which had never been his dream, but he had made some new friends and he looked good in the red coat. Good enough that he believed he had a chance with a local heiress. True, Miss King's fortune was smaller than the one he had attempted to snag at Ramsgate, and she was freshly in mourning so he would have to wait. But as far as Mr. Wickham could tell the lady did not have an officious brother nor a cousin who was handy with both swords and pistols, and the uncle who had been her guardian had recently died, leaving her relatively unprotected. He had heard about her tragic loss from some local gossips and promptly set out to comfort and console her, as any good Christian would do. She was wearing black which was not her colour but it was only for an uncle so it need not last very long, and he thought she would look tolerable once she got past the weeping stage.

The epidemic had its drawbacks as other officers told him that there had been more invitations and more free dinners before everyone started talking about the plague, but on the positive side, Wickham had been ordered to quarantine himself and had no duties with the militia for a week which was not unlike a paid vacation. He had used his free time well and learned to know the local businesses. Meryton was definitely not London but there were certain benefits to a small town. The merchants were more trusting, and he was easily able to buy things on credit while wearing his red coat. A man serving the Crown would certainly be an upstanding citizen, and he had purchased new boots on credit. Last night he had spent at the inn, gambling with Denny, Pratt, Chamberlayne, and some locals, and he had won three pounds.

Yes, things were finally going his way, and he had earned it.

Then, Colonel Forster summoned Wickham in his office. Wickham did not know Forster well but he had seemed like a friendly sort of fellow and Pratt said he was fair and did not usually yell much. When Wickham first joined the regiment Forster had asked him about his reasons and appeared very sympathetic when he heard about the inheritance that had been cheated from him. Maybe Forster needed someone to go to London again. He'd be happy to travel on behalf of the militia – anything for a diversion.

Colonel Forster sat behind a desk, and Captain Carter was also there.

"Good morning, sir, how may I serve, sir?"

"Oh, you wish to serve?"

"Certainly, as do we all. That is why I joined the regiment. Because I hope to be of use to my country."

"And do you also wish to obey orders?"

"Sir, following your wise and worthy orders is my pleasure, sir."

"Yet you chose to suspend that pleasure."

"I do not have the felicity to understand you, sir."

"As I recall, I ordered you to quarantine yourself until it could be verified that you had not contracted the disease in London. Yet you were observed at church, courting a local lady."

"Sir, before joining the militia, I was to be a clergyman and I still crave the spiritual sustenance we can only get at church. Miss King was recently bereaved, and I have lost all of my family, so I felt both duty and compassion compelling me to offer my sympathy and support."

"Very kind of you, Lieutenant," Colonel Forster said. "Very biblically motivated."

"Nobody could do any less in my situation, sir."

"What about the shops? Did your fellow feelings force you to visit the shops?" Captain Carter asked. "I have made inquiries and been told that you already owe money to several merchants."

"Which is very peculiar considering you were supposed to stay at your quarters, according to my orders."

"Sir, you must understand that I am new here and I needed some provisions. "

"Is that so? And was there something urgent that you needed from the inn? Something that you alone could help them in?"

"I was not alone at the inn, sir. I was with Denny, Pratt and Chamberlayne, and we liaised with some local gentlemen regarding matters of common interest."

"I believe you," Colonel Forster said. "Money is a very common interest."

"Yes, well, a man needs something to live on."

"Very true, Lieutenant," Colonel Forster said.

"Don't stop till you get enough," said Captain Carter.

"But the fact remains that you were ordered to quarantine yourself and you did not."

"Sir, we cannot live our lives based on fear," said Mr. Wickham. "We are soldiers, we are strong and courageous, we must face fierce enemies and deadly weapons bravely, so why should we be afraid of a little fever?"

"I did not tell you to be afraid, I told you to keep your quarantine."

"Sir, surely it was not necessary. As you can see, I am healthy as a horse."

"Some horses are sick, Mr. Wickham," Colonel Forster said.

"Pratt's horse died recently," Captain Carter said.

"Oh yes, he told me," Mr. Wickham said.

"Yes but he should not have. Because you should have been in quarantine and kept away from everyone," Colonel Forster said.

"How do you suggest that we remedy this situation?" Captain Carter asked.

"I think this is moot now, as I am not at all feverish," Mr. Wickham said.

"Yes but my orders are not moot, and when you joined the militia you signed papers saying you would obey them," Colonel Forster said.

"Perhaps you should spend some more time in quarantine in order to learn this lesson," Captain Carter said.

"Of course, I will gladly do that," said Mr. Wickham. Some extra days or another week without military duties sounded quite nice, in fact. He was man enough to admit that he enjoyed the lazy life. He would just have to be more discreet about going out.

"Then you will be happy to know wou will be quarantined for four weeks," said Colonel Forster. "In jail."

The jail was a shock to George Wickham. The cell was just four walls that would have seemed far too close if it was not too dark to see them properly. He did not like the the temperature, the smell, the food, or the rats. But the worst thing was the weight of consequences. He was not used to facing consequences but this time he could not lie, flatter, bribe or blackmail his way out of his cell.

And it was to last for four weeks. So many plans could be ruined in four weeks. While he was in jail Wickham would have no opportunity to earn money using threats and the handkerchief. Darcy might be gone by the time he got out. Someone else might be able to charm Miss King. Pratt perhaps? He was not as handsome as Wickham but the blackguard had been quite solicitous of her feelings at church the other day, and as they had a more long-standing acquaintance he might convince her that it stemmed from real caring, and Wickham would be unlucky in love again.

He was alone in the cell, bored and lonely, with nothing to do but to contemplate who was to blame. He had not yet come up with a definitive way to blame Darcy for his jail time but Darcy was the king of boring and jail was such a tedious place that surely this must be Darcy's fault too..

He was painfully bored, so it was a very happy surprise when a friend appeared.

"Denny! What are you doing here?"

"As if you do not know. We are to be cellmates."

"Did you get quarantined too?"

"Yes, for four weeks."

"Oh, that is too bad. But I am glad to have some company."

"You are glad," said Denny.

"Yes, it is less boring if there is someone to talk to."

"You are glad! You are glad that I got four weeks in jail because I am here to amuse you."

"Oh no, Denny, I would not put it exactly like that."

"In fact, my entire purpose in life is to be your entertainment."

"No, no, I did not mean it that way -"

"I am to languish here because you told Forster that I broke my quarantine and went to the inn with you! I thought we were friends!"

"Yes, that is true, you are one of my best friends and that is why you cannot think that.."

Denny took umbrage at Wickham's notion of friendship or the idea that he could not think whatever he wanted, launched a sudden swing and punched Wickham in the face. Wickham was taken by surprise and stumbled on the floor, hitting his face when he fell. When he got up he spit out some blood.

Wickham and Denny had very little to say to each other after that so he was happy to see Chamberlayne and Pratt later. They said they were not quarantined, they just came to inform him of the assistance they had given him.

"We cleared your personal effects from your room and put them in a box. Seeing as how you will not be needing your room for a while, it has been repurposed as an extra sick room."

"Oh, thank you very much. That's what friends are for."

"Friends! Do you cheat on all of your friends?" Chamberlayne took a swing, and Wickham fell. When he got up he spit out some blood.

"I found your card deck, and noticed that they were marked," Chamberlayne explained. "I will be needing my eight shillings back."

"The cards are not mine!" Wickham said.

"Neither is my pocketwatch but I found it among your possessions," said Pratt. "I thanked you for helping me search for it but you are the one who took it." He took a swing and Wickham fell. When he got up he spit out some blood.

In the corner of the cell, a rat was gnawing on one of his new boots.

"It seems that Mr. Wickham has some trouble keeping his friends," Denny said.

"And his teeth," said Chamberlayne.

"Thif if a mifunderftanding," said Wickham.

Meanwhile in Meryton, Miss King had a bad cold and it had resulted in a nosebleed. She had already gone through several handkerchiefs until she found one that was not like her own.

"Where on earth did this handkerchief come from? I do not recognize these initials."

"That nice young man gave you his handkerchief at church. Maybe it is his."

"But these initials are GD, and I thought his name was George Wickham, not George Di-"

Miss King never found out whose handkerchief it was and in the end it did not matter for whoever GD was would not wish to get it back in its current state. It was a sad waste because somebody had toiled over the lovely embroidery for hours but all the handkerchiefs with blood stains were ruined and had to be burned.