Smooth silk handkerchiefs that were a delight to run one’s finger over, a cold gold watch that hung from his pocket, the silver cufflinks — little signs of prosperity Wickhamneeded.
Wickham — or The Wickham — as he often referred in his own mind to the personality he donned when seducing women, looked back at Lydia with a seductive grin that he showed her for just a second. Enough to make her flush, but to keep from being objectionably obvious to the other persons around.
“You loaned a guinea! There is still enough from that for more play,” Wickham replied. “I’ll win everything back from you, and thenyou’llowe me a return.”
“You won’t!” Denny slapped Wickham on the shoulder. He laughed. “Cash Out Wicky is a fine, fashionable, friendly fellow. But a card talent he is not.”
“I play cards perfectly well.”
“Miss Lydia, if I’d been a nearly penniless fellow, like this fellow,” Denny paused to hiccup out a faint stench of the small beer he preferred to wine, “I’d not play cards unless I could win more often than I lost.”
Lydia giggled. “I always win at cards.” She added stoutly, “I’d take all the allowance of the other girls at school, and they hated it, but then I’d buy everyone a perfectly ugly bonnet that we then took apart, and we would make it into something not too shameful to wear. So they forgave me. Except Ugly Elsie. But she was ugly, teeth too crooked, and skin too sallow. Even if her fatherwasthe brother of a baronet. Mrs. Castle always said it was impolite to win so much at cards. So this one time I told her that it was impolite to be such a sour apple, and she caned my hand so hard that it wouldn’t stop throbbing for a week.”
From her expression and laugh, this was clearly a joke to Lydia, and all the gentlemen at the table — she had of course contrived to be the only woman at a table full of officers — laughed with her.
This girl was as bursting from the seams as a slut milk maid with a need for fresh air, fresh exercise, and a man’s body to spread her legs.
Lydia Bennet’s flighty little mind might be the greatest piece of fortune that had ever fallen to Wickham’s lot.
Twenty thousand pounds.
It still wasn’t the thirty thousand from Georgiana Darcy that belonged to him by right.
Lydia was the sort of fool who he could convince to doanythingonce she thought herself to be in love.
And to his additional benefit, her father and Mr. Bingley seldom attended these card parties, and the members of her family who were here all liked him.
It had been the departure of that Miss Elizabeth Bennet — who never forgot to look at him with suspicious eyes, and who generally objected to his presence in company — that had given him this opportunity.
Shewould have been sufficiently suspicious to find out at least a hint of his scheme. There had even been some rumor about town that Colonel Fitzwilliam had admired her — but nothing had come of it.
But she was not here, and Wickham did not plan to wait.
Tomorrow!
A few words about how desperately in love with her he was, how he respected her too much to touch her without marriage, combined with Lydia’s rutting female desperation to find out what other sensations of slippery delight he could inspire, had been enough.
Tomorrow, the carriage would be ready, and she’d come out to him, and they’d rush off to Gretna Green, and he’d satisfy himself with her body repeatedly on the road, making it impossible for her family to say him nay, and then he’d take possession of all that sensual, sweet kissing money that she had in her dowry.
As the card party broke up, Wickham found a chance to whisper to her on the stairs, and to almost kiss her again.
She promised again,Tomorrow.
Shining eyes. A promising smile.
And after that he walked arm in arm with his bothersome brother officers, singing a stout marching song half drunkenly back to the rooms they shared.
Some talk of Alexander, and some of Hercules
Of Hector and Lysander, and such great names as these.
But of all the world's brave heroes, there's none that can compare.
With a tow, row, row, row, row, row, to the British Grenadiers.
“Hehe,” Carter said as they undressed, and settled onto the chairs around the little table in the joined room. “Cash Out Wicky foundonegirl for whom his credit is good. That Bennet girl made cow eyes at you all night. Pity for you that Mr. Bennet is too sound of a fellow to ever let a worthless fellow like you marry her. Never thought I’d see a woman fool enough to have that much interest inyou.”
A low rage burned in Wickham’s chest. The need to kick, bite, claw was a living thing.
