Wickham stood at the back door and watched Georgiana read in the garden. She sat on a stone bench with a small book in her hand. Errant curls fluttered in her face and every minute or so, she would push them back into place, only for the wind to disrupt her handiwork. In a moment like this, he could see how young she was. At fifteen years old, her face still held the sweet roundness of youth and her naïve nature got her into her current position as his future bride. 

“Damn you, Younge.” If the old man had not died, Wilhelmina would be in London skimming the affluent households instead of here targeting the youngest Darcy in her latest scheme. 

He closed his eyes and thought back to the discussion he had with Wilhelmina not half an hour prior.

Both of them sat in the study of the rented house. Mrs. Younge had taken up the room as her own, to write her letters and conduct her business from. 

She was writing a letter and did not bother to look him in the eye as she made her demand.

“George, you have to convince her to elope today.” 

Wickham grimaced at the idea and took another generous sip of his brandy.

“It’s still too soon. We have all summer for me to court her properly. She will not agree to an elopement without developing more of an attachment to me.”

Wilhelmina slammed her fist into the oak desk. Her knuckles cracked against the surface and caused Wickham to flinch at the sudden sound. 

“We do not have the privilege of time. Darcy plans on visiting Georgiana within the month and she will tell him about you sniffing around her. Our work will have gone to waste, and I’ll be sent packing! No, you have to talk to her now, Wickham. No more dawdling.”

That was how he found himself at the edge of the garden. Wickham paced in a circle as his mind raced to come up with a speech to give Georgiana. 

 You know I admire you, no, love you greatly. I desire to make us man and wife as soon as possible. There is no need for the banns to be called when we can make the short trip to Gretna Green. On our way back, we can stop at Pemberley to give the news to Darcy. 

That’s not bad, old boy. Good enough for now and I can always improvise. Resolve strengthened, he strode to the middle of the yard where Georgiana read, unaware of his presence. 

“Miss Darcy. Would you allow me the honor of resting beside you?” 

She startles at his announcement and sets her book face down on her lap. 

“Yes, of course, Mr. Wickham. I was not aware you were visiting today. Mrs. Younge never mentioned it to me this morning at breakfast.”            

Wickham smiled his usual grin, the one that took years to perfect. 

“It may have been because she kept it a secret from you, darling. Tell me dearest,” he shifted to face her. “Have you thought more about my suggestion for a short engagement?”

Georgiana avoided his gaze and played with her book ribbon. “I have. You desire for us to elope quickly, and while I don’t care for a fancy wedding, I do wish for my family to be at the ceremony. My brother and Colonel Fitzwilliam should be there. Don’t you have anyone you want to invite to our union?”

Anger welled inside him for the first time that year. No, I don’t have anyone you wretch. I am a penniless, friendless, worthless excuse of man! Wickham sighed and picked up Georgiana’s hands to hold them in his. He knew he couldn’t take out his rage on her. None of it was her fault and she was the innocent party in this entire con. 

“No, my dear. All of my family has passed. Your relations will become mine once we are married.”

He paused to brush the backs of his knuckles against her cheek. “I do so want to marry you, my love.” 

“George.” She whispered. Her lips fluttered against his wrist as she spoke. “We…we could go to Gretna Green. Perhaps next week? Can you wait until then?”

His stomach plummeted at her easy acquiescence, but he buried the discomfort and hugged her. 

“Oh, my love! You have made me the happiest of men! We can start making preparations now so that there’s no rush.”

”I am glad. I sent Fitzwilliam a letter three days ago telling him of our desire to wed. He should make it to Ramsgate to travel with us unless an urgent matter keeps him away.” 

He shoved her away from him, but kept his grip on her shoulders. “You what?!”

The sudden change in tone wiped the happy expression from her face. Georgiana looked down and fidgeted with her hands. 

“Both you and Mrs. Younge told me not to inform Fitzwilliam or the Colonel, but I couldn’t stay silent. I let him know of our wish to marry. B-But do not worry. Fitzwilliam is an understanding brother. If we speak to him, he will give us his blessing.”

For a moment Wickham’s head went numb. His thoughts felt fuzzy, similar to when he drank too much. It was incredulous how naïve and simple-minded Georgiana Darcy was. He tried to think of a way to salvage the entire sham when shouting rang out from the street.

“Stop the carriage here! Georgiana!”

She pulled away from his embrace to face the house. “That sounds like Fitzwilliam. But he cannot be here. His last letter told me he was still in Derbyshire.”

All the muscles in Wickham’s body tensed and he knew it was a matter of minutes before Darcy descended on them. An idea came to him and he relaxed as he considered the option. 

“If dear old Darcy came all this way to visit we must not keep him waiting. Come Georgiana.” He stretched out his hand to help her off the bench and escorted her towards the house. 

Maybe this will work out in my favor after all. 

Editor: Lisa Mildon