I know there was a time when you thought me unfit for the church, and you were right. I knew nothing then of the degradations awaiting me, but I know them now, as I know the healing power of redemption. I have seen the error of my ways, thanks to you, and I hope to use my life to help others see the error of such ways as well.
My godfather, and dear friend—your father—was always pleased to say that I had a good speaking voice and a good address, and that I could charm the birds from the trees if I so wished. He believed in me, and I know you believe in me, too. It was that thought which brought me back from the dark paths I walked in my folly and ignorance.
I know you will have given the living of Kympton elsewhere by now, but you still have other livings in your gift and I feel sure you would like to see me established in one of them. It will enable you to carry out your father’s wish, and it will give you the satisfaction of seeing me, as I was meant to be, a good man guiding the souls of my parishioners as they walk the difficult path of righteousness through this world of sin.
Your friend, much humbled and chastened,
George Wickham
Mr Darcy to Mr Wickham
Cumbria, January 25
Wickham,
It will do you no good to importune me further—the living of Kympton is no longer vacant as you surmise and I have no other vacant livings in my gift. I am glad you have seen the error of your ways but you must help yourself now; I cannot help you any further. This letter ends the matter.
Darcy
Mr Wickham to Mr Darcy
London, January 27
By God, Darcy, how dare you write me such a letter? Do you think I am some beggar trying to scrape an acquaintance with you? Are you so puffed up in your own conceit that you forget we rode the same horses when we were children, swam in the same lake, climbed the same trees, worked together and played together as equals—nay, as brothers?
I thank God your father is not alive to see it. He would have been ashamed of you. He would have been disgusted and appalled that he had raised such a son, devoid of any kind of honour or loyalty or compassion. What gives you the right to say I cannot have the living, when your father expressly promised it to me? It is nothing to you, and nothing to the people of Kympton, either, who holds the living.
But think again. You surely do not mean to rob me of a livelihood. I have always known you to be proud and supercilious, but I never thought you would stoop to being a thief as well; in fact I am sure you will not sink so low. If I had half your riches, you know, and you were poor like me, I would not begrudge you a pittance of a living; quite the reverse, I would give you an allowance, and a handsome one at that, so that you could live as a gentleman. I cannot believe you mean to rob me of a livelihood without a second thought. How do you suggest I live? I must have something, and you have many livings in your gift.
In memory of all the times we played together as children and the love and affection your father showed me…but that is at the root of it, is it not? You are jealous because he loved me like a second son—in fact I believe he preferred me, and who can blame him? I, at least, took pains to entertain him, whereas you would never give yourself the trouble. By God, that is it. I have always suspected it and now I know, and this is how you mean to pay me out: by reducing me to nothing.
How could I help it if he preferred me? An old man will always like a handsome face and charming manners. Your face is handsome enough, I’ll grant you, but your address is as stiff as a board. You have all the charm of a poker—is it any wonder that your father preferred me? He cannot be blamed for liking my cheerful manners or for being repulsed by your pride and your d——d self-righteous arrogance.
But you do blame him and now you are taking your revenge. What do you want? Do you want me to crawl? Then be d——d to you. I will not crawl to you or any man. If you do not mean to help me, then you can go hang.
I wish you every ill that you have inflicted on me.
Wickham
Mr Wickham to Mr Parker
London, January 30
Well, Matthew, you will be surprised to get this letter after so long a silence, but I had no wish to write to bore you with my troubles, and debtors’ prison is the most boring of all ills. But now I am out and living with a wealthy widow, though not for long: I would sooner be the master than the lapdog.
I have a mind to look about me for an heiress. Now that there is no chance of my getting the living of Kympton—I tried Darcy again, d——n him, but to no avail—I must look to some other way of supporting myself. Do you know any heiresses? Are there any in York? I am not known in that area, and I may pass there for a respectable man.
Let me know if you can help me. If I catch someone by your introduction, you may be sure you will always be welcome in my home.
Wickham
FEBRUARY
Mr Parker to Mr Wickham
York, February 5
Good God, George, I could not believe it when I received your letter. I thought you were dead! Well, well, well, so that is where you have been: debtors’ prison. I should have guessed. It is very good to know you are still alive and well, however, and looking for the love of your life. George Wickham married! What a sight that will be. I wish I knew any heiresses, but if I did, I would be making a play for them myself. My pockets are empty, as always.
Let me know the name of your widow. If you are leaving, then there will be a warm berth there for me, and it will suit me to leave York just at this moment. You might be able to pass for a respectable man here, but alas! I cannot. I must leave the city, at least for a while, and London would be as good a place as any for me to pass the time.
Have you seen anything of Belle lately?
Parker
Mr Wickham to Mr Parker
London, February 13
The widow is Mrs Dawson. Meet me at The Black Bull and I will take you home and introduce you, and then I will be off in pursuit of a wife. A pity there are none in York, but never mind, I will try my luck with Anne de Bourgh. If I can catch her away from her dragon of a mother, then something might be done.
You ask about Belle but sadly I have not seen her for years. We had some times together, Belle and I! But neither of us had any money and although we managed to scrape along together for a while, in the end the creditors were pressing and so we had to part. The last I heard of her, she was thinking of turning respectable.
Wickham
Mr Parker to Mr Wickham
Leeds, February 16
Belle! Respectable? Good Lord! That is the best joke I have heard in a long time.
The de Bourgh girl sounds promising. Does she have any money? If so, you’ll have to fight the mother for her. Not the first time a George has fought a dragon!
Parker
George Wickham to Matthew Parker
London, February 18