Jump to new as of January 5, 2000

Chapter 1

Posted on Tuesday, 28 December 1999, at 7 : 26 a.m.

"Miss Lydia Bennet, can you not give me any hope of there being a future for the two of us some day?" George Wickham asked.

Lydia smiled and threw caution to the wind. She got up and flung her arms around Wickham's neck, half strangling him.

"George my love, do you really need to ask such a question? Lord I thought that I'd made it more than clear as to what my own feelings are!" she exclaimed happily. She released him and spun in circles, flinging her arms out wide in excitement. "Oh Mama will be so happy!"

Wickham's lips parted in a little smile. This is easier that I thought he thought to himself in satisfaction. Why waste a little adulation? Just a few days should be enough to stop Darcy from marrying Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Damn him! Not giving me that living was a bad mistake Darcy. Now we'll see how you cope with unhappiness, and see if you should find it agreeable.

"Lydia my love, calm down!" he said aloud. Lydia stopped prancing around the room and regarded him for a moment with wide-eyed innocence.

"What is it my love?" she asked. "Are you not excited too?"

Wickham hastily plastered a winning smile on his face as he cajoled her. "Nay dearest, it's just that I wish to keep our engagement a secret before exposing us to the rest of the world. Wouldn't it be exciting when we finally reveal our secret to everyone else?"

Lydia's frown of confusion vanished as she took in what he was saying. "Oh but of course!"

"In fact why don't we go off and get married tonight at Gretna Green?" he suggested. "No one need know, and how excited everyone will be when they do find out!"

"Oh George!" Lydia exclaimed and flung herself on to him once again. "Yes! We'll do that. I think we're calling on some friends of Mrs Forster's this afternoon, could you leave the details there whilst we're out?" she looked up at him beguilingly, her lips half puckered into a kiss.

Wickham thought to himself quickly this is so easy! Darcy, you're going to regret you ever got on the wrong side of George Wickham!

Then he said, "Yes my lovely, and just be sure to have packed enough for a few days tonight."

The carriage drew up in front of the door. Lydia bounced out of the door excitedly as Wickham, ever the gentleman in gesture, if not at heart, opened the door to the carriage.

"Madam, your carriage awaits," he said, and bowed with a flourish. Lydia giggled and clambered in, almost half falling in her haste.

"Whoa my love!" Wickham laughed as he went to catch his lady. "I don't want you to break your head before the ceremony!"

"Oh George!" Lydia squealed. "I can't wait till we get there! When do we arrive there?"

Wickham thought to himself quickly. He had no real intention of marrying the little twit, only to enjoy himself with her, then send her back home, a real woman. Perhaps I should take her to London for a while. We can stay at Mrs Young's house.

"Lydia, dearest," Wickham said aloud. "We will be going to London and spending a few days there whilst I attend to some business. Would you mind so much if we postpone our wedding for a few days?"

"Of course not!" Lydia exclaimed. She leaned towards him and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "As long as I am with you, my beloved, I don't mind where we are!

Although..." she chewed her lip for a moment. Wickham held his breath anxiously, wondering if she had seen through his scheme. "I told the Forster's in the note that we were going straight to Gretna. Still..." her face brightened, "it cannot be an unpleasant surprise once they find out where we've been!"

Wickham gave a sigh of relief. Thank the Lord she didn't stop and think. I wonder is she realises what she's got herself in for. Wickham's thoughts were abruptly cut off as Lydia snuggled next to him, her head burrowing in his shoulder. Hmmm... Now off to London we go.

Chapter 2

Posted on Wednesday, 5 January 2000, at 2 : 30 a.m.

They arrived in London some hours later. Tired and hungry, Wickham alighted from the carriage, relieved at having to leave the stuffy interior for a while to stretch his legs. He glanced at the piece of paper that contained the name and the place of Mrs. Young's lodgings. He turned to the coachman, who stood watching him, awaiting his orders.

"To Loddon Street," he commanded imperiously. The coachman nodded his head to the command and urged the horses to move.

Lydia was jolted awake by the movements of the carriage.
"George?" she murmured sleepily.

"I'm here, my love," Wickham answered, the 'my love' rolling off his tongue as easily as the rest of the false endearments he had showered her with previously.

Lydia smiled at the imagined affection in his voice, and snuggled down into his shoulder once more. Wickham looked down at the head that rested so close to his own, and felt something stir. He ignored it. Miss Lydia Bennet was one of the key parts of his plans to revenge himself on to Darcy. And that was all it was going to be, he vowed. He had seen the way Darcy observed Miss Elizabeth; it was one of the reasons as to why he had gone out of his way to engage Miss Bennet's attention. However, since her return to Hertfordshire from Hunsford, she had been acting rather strangely. It's as if she knew what I did in my former life. And didn't like it. Damn Darcy! Well, this time you're not going to win old man. No indeed. This time it will be me who will be the victor.

Wickham continued his musings along this vein until he was alerted by the signal from the man up front that they had arrived at their destination. He shook Lydia gently. She moaned, and protested gently. Wickham then tickled her, waking her up with a gasp.

"What? Oh George, did you have to do that?" Lydia grumbled good naturedly, still laughing at his tickles.

"Lydia love, you were so adorable, I couldn't resist," Wickham said with a smile, before bending his head and kissing her. Lydia's eyes sparkled as he bent his head towards her, and willingly offered her lips to him. This is so easy! Can't she at least pretend a little reluctance? It would make things more exciting if she did.

Chapter 3

Lydia hummed to herself as she found herself in the room where she and Wickham were registered as man and wife for the next few days. The thought of impropriety never entered her head. All she knew was that she was with the man she loved, and that was all that mattered to her. It never occurred to her that Wickham would be less than honourable, seeing how she did not know the meaning of the word. As far as Lydia was concerned, whilst she was with her Wickham, nothing could go wrong.

She turned away from the window at the sound of Wickham entering the room.

Wickham glanced at the woman who had stationed herself next to the window. Pain, for one moment, pierced him. It brought him back to another time when he was looking back at another woman...

"Wickham my love, come here," a soft dulcet voice whispered huskily. Mesmerised, he went over to her, where she drew him into her embrace that filled his soul with joy.

"I love you," he said fervently, gripping her tightly. Hoping that his feelings would be reciprocated, he looked down into her eyes but instead, and all he saw was a coldness that he had never seen before. Feeling frightened at what he saw, he implored to her silently to return his words, but instead, silence followed his declaration, creating a void he can never again cross. Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore and had to ask her. "Don't you feel this way too about me?"

She slanted her gaze at him, and for a moment, those eyes of dark chocolate melted his fears for a moment, before becoming as hard as stone. In dread, he awaited her reply.
She toyed with his collar, contemplating his shirt before answering his query. "Wasn't this all meant to be fun?"

He felt his heart shatter. No this can't be right, he
thought to himself numbly. I must have heard wrong. He felt his heart stop as she gently began to withdraw from him.

"No!" he said forcefully. He turned to find her walking around the room, methodically retrieving the articles of clothing that had been scattered in their haste. He followed her movements with his eyes, then chilled by her distance, stopped her as she was in the middle of slipping back into her dress. She gently but firmly moved his hand away, and continued with her toilette. When Wickham forcefully stilled her movements, she sighed and did as he was silently asking her.

She looked into his eyes and answered to his query. "I thought we had an agreement," she said to him. "This was only for our mutual enjoyment, but the time has come to move on."

Wickham realised that her words, although soft, did not hold the warmth that he thought would have been there. He forced himself to ask for the last time. "Don't you love me?"

She paused. Then came the crushing blow. "No, I'm afraid I don't."