Page 74 of Near Pemberley

The mirror itself was scarcely worth examining. Neither, at present, was the gentleman reflected within it.

His coat remained respectable enough at a distance, though the cuffs had begun showing unmistakable signs of wear. The shirt beneath was no longer truly white, however much he might prefer to think otherwise, and his cravat had not seen a proper laundry in so long that he had abandoned all attempts to remember when it last had.

He adjusted it nevertheless.

Appearances still mattered.

Indeed, they mattered now more than ever. A man deprived of money must rely upon other resources, and Wickham had always considered his appearance among the most dependable of his assets.

The lodging-house offered little encouragement. The room was narrow, ill-aired, and furnished with a degree of economy which suggested its proprietor regarded comfort as an unnecessary extravagance. Rain had found its way through the roof often enough to stain the ceiling, while the mattress possessed a remarkable ability to make itself felt through every blanket placed upon it.

Wickham was becoming increasingly tired of the place.

Still, it was inexpensive. And inexpensive lodgings were preferable to no lodgings at all.

He searched his pockets once more before putting on his coat, though the exercise produced no result different from the one obtained ten minutes earlier. His finances remained unimproved.

An unfortunate circumstance, but hardly a novel one.

Only yesterday, however, fortune appeared to have presented a possible remedy. At a public house near Holborn, he had made the acquaintance of a prosperous tradesman whose conversation improved steadily with every bottle consumed. The fellow possessed money, vanity, and a gratifying tendency to trust people he had known for less than an hour. Such qualities had often proved useful in the past and might prove useful again.

Whether the man might be persuaded to lend money, lose money, or just misplace it altogether remained to be determined.

Wickham had not yet decided which possibility he preferred.

He smiled faintly at the thought while reaching for his hat.

Life had certainly become less comfortable during the past two months. The Bennets had searched for him at first with a persistence he had not entirely expected, and for several weeks, he had been obliged to change lodgings more frequently than convenience recommended. There had also been creditors, former acquaintances, and one particularly determined gentleman from Brighton whom he had no desire ever to encounter again.

Lately, however, the pressure appeared to have eased.

No new enquiries had reached him for several days. No unpleasant visitor had appeared demanding repayment. Even the rumours seemed less active than before.

People grew tired.

Experience had taught him that much.

Indignation rarely sustained itself indefinitely, and scandal possessed a shorter life than most moralists liked to believe. Families exhausted themselves. Creditors found fresher prey. Society discovered newer subjects for outrage.

The world moved on.

It generally had.

He swore under his breath. Persuading the foolish chit to run away with him had proved easy enough; but once her money was gone, she became nothing but an encumbrance. He had been obliged to leave her behind, especially as she was not easy. For a moment, he wondered what might have become of her but dismissed the thought. He was alone now and must contrive for himself.

The militia, admittedly, was lost to him now. Returning would require explanations he had no wish to provide and settlements he had no means of making. Yet London remained full of possibilities for a man willing to recognise them.

He gave his reflection one final glance.

The clothes were disappointing. The lodgings were worse. Yet the face remained unchanged.

Wickham smiled.

It was astonishing how often people preferred a pleasant face to an honest character.

Taking up his hat, he left the room entirely unaware that elsewhere in London a new search was undertaken by money that would not run out.

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