“You were always so kind to me,” Georgiana said with a glow in her eyes.
“What luck he came to Ramsgate, not three days after you arrived,” Lydia said, linking an arm through Wickham’s.
“I am, indeed, a lucky man, to have such beauty before me,” Wickham said, passing an appreciative eye over all of them.
Georgiana, Kitty, and Lydia all blushed and giggled, and even Elizabeth felt some heat in her cheeks. Before he had been at Ramsgate a week, Lydia declared him to be the perfect man. Kitty enjoyed his gallantry, butGeorgiana appeared quite ready to be fallen in love with by her childhood friend.
“But I am not the only friend you have in Ramsgate,” he said to Georgiana. “The Bennet ladies seem to have taken it upon themselves to look after you and adore you.”
“Oh yes,” said Lydia while Kitty nodded. “We might as well call her another Miss Bennet for how often we are together.”
The young people were pleased with each other from the first. On each side there was much to attract, and their acquaintance soon promised as early an intimacy as good manners would warrant. Lydia and Kitty had told her to call them by their names, and Georgiana was immediately drawn in to their merriment.
Elizabeth knew Mrs Younge did not approve of their lack of fortune and connexions. She got the impression the Darcy name meant a great deal in some circles, and the Bennets’ connexions werenothing to Georgiana’s. But Mrs Younge could not argue that a fortnight with them had not made Georgiana more comfortable with conversation.
“Will you be at the concert?” Georgiana asked Wickham with a hopeful smile. “You said last week when I mentioned my playing that you are fond of music.”
“That depends,” he said in a serious tone. Wickham met each of their eyes before saying, “There is no point in my attending unless each and every one of you is there.”
They all cried out at his teasing and then promised they would attend. Georgiana grinned and said, “I am so glad. My brother will be here by then, and he is excessively fond of music too.”
He paled, and Mrs Younge turned back from the window. “Your brother is coming?” asked her companion in a raised voice. “He said nothing of this to me.”
Georgiana drew back. “I had been writing to him of all the friends I made, and Fitzwilliam said he would visit sooner than he planned. He sent a brief letter this morning to say he is coming tonight.”
Mrs Younge and Wickham shared a look, at the same time as Kitty and Lydia attacked Georgiana with questions about her brother: was he single, was he handsome, was he rich? While she answered as diplomatically as she could, Elizabeth heard Mrs Younge and Wickham talk in hushed tones.
“No, it is too soon.”
“You have been distracted,” she retorted. “Too much time spent with every pretty—” Mrs Younge broke off when she noticed Elizabeth watching. She told Georgiana they were wanted at their friends’ in Prospect Row. They all parted with promises to see one another at the concert tomorrow.
Wickham followed, but Lydia said, “Where are you going? You said you would accompany us once we collected Lizzy.”
“Forgive me, my dear Miss Lydia,” Wickham said. “Lead the way.”
Elizabeth frowned to herself. Lydia’s forwardness was unbecoming. She might become even more imprudent with a flirtatious companion such as Wickham, here in Ramsgate, away from her father and where the temptations must be greater than at home. But with so manywealthier women like Georgiana about, Lydia may learn her own insignificance the hard way.
Kitty and Lydia crossed the street, and Elizabeth and Wickham followed. She noticed how he drew out a handkerchief and wiped his brow. He looked flushed. It was not that hot in the sun, and she hoped her friend was not ill. “Are you feverish, Mr Wickham? You must rest if you are unwell.”
He stuffed his handkerchief back into his pocket and gave her a smile. “Nonsense. Besides, nothing would keep me from seeing all of your pretty faces at the concert tomorrow.”
While Georgiana and her sisters had light banter and flirtatious talk with him, she tried to persevere with more serious conversations. “I noticed you looked displeased at the mention of Mr Darcy.”
“Not at all,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. When she gave him a disbelieving look, he smiled and dropped his voice. “Well, he is good enough, but duller than stagnant mud.”
She laughed. “You divert me against my conscience. You must not prejudice me against Miss Darcy’s brother.”
“Too true!” he agreed. “Aside from him being too proud of his family name, I cannot say a word against him, since his father supported my education, and because his sweet sister is my dear friend. Let us say no more about Mr Darcy.”
She thought he had looked too alarmed at the mention of a man whose only crime was that he was dull, but then Wickham employed his happy readiness of conversation to more diverting topics.
He might be the property of Georgiana given their previous relationship and how fondly she looked at him, but Wickham flirted with every young lady in Ramsgate.
Fitzwilliam Darcy detested watering places.All of Ramsgate felt too much like a perpetual holiday. London had public places and amusements, but it was still a city that worked and lived, educated and worshipped, governed and legislated. These resort towns had nothing of substance.
He chose to stay in the London Hotel, since the King’s Head was across the street from the assembly rooms. There would be no entertainment whilehe was here. He would dine at the hotel tonight, perhaps read the papers at Burgess’s library, and then take his sister from Ramsgate and George Wickham in the morning.
His sister was a month removed from school, and he had entrusted her to the care of a preparatory governess to superintend the rest of her education. A fifteen-year-old without a mother needed to learn how to manage a home, the servants, her expenses, and all the other talents and domesticities expected of her—and a seminary in London could do no more. Mrs Younge came to them highly recommended and would further her refinement, once she learnt Wickham was not to be trusted.
