Page 46 of Shields and Roses

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George Wickham read the letter through a second time, still trying to decide if it would end up being good news or bad. When he had written to Lady Catherine, he had made his request for a large allowance as something of a lark. There was no real harm in asking, he had thought, considering it likely she would simply decline and that would be an end to it. While she had not granted the money he requested, what she offered instead had been more of a surprise than the funds would have been.

...In light of the important information you have provided, I shall offer you the benefit of the doubt and ascribe your request to leave the position I so generously procured for you to an honest desire to serve me rather than gross ingratitude engendered by laziness and desire to live a life of self-indulgent ease. Indeed, having you tied to the legal office no longer suits my plan and I, therefore, have provided you with an alternate way in which to serve.

The search for Miss Rose can be better undertaken by others. I shall find her and prevent any chance that she may interfere with the marriage of my nephew and my daughter. If searching the ballrooms of the elite has not yet worked for him, it is no more likely to prove fruitful for you. I have other hunters better suited to find this quarry using other means.

To meet my other requirements, I have sent word to your employer requesting that you be released from duty to take up a place in the militia. You will be joining a unit that is quartered in a Hertfordshire village called Meryton. I expect you to use your charm to ingratiate yourself with both your fellow officers and the people of the village. Among the inhabitants is a family called Bennet. They have five daughters. Make yourself irresistible to them. For now, you will report anything of note about them to me. I have plans for the Bennet family and you will help enact them.

Mr. Bennet is a friend of Viscount Rand and godfather to Richard Fitzwilliam, so it is likely they will have heard your name. For that reason, you will take the name Brickham. It is close enough to your own that you should have no problem answering to it, but just different enough that they will have no reason to suspect you are anything but what you present yourself to be. I am sure you can come up with enough of a history for yourself to carry it off and avert any questions.

Close out your affairs in London quickly. Lieutenant George Brickham is to present himself to the commanding officer, Colonel Forster, on Monday morning at 10:00 without fail. All the paperwork has been completed already. Your commission is enclosed. You will, of course, receive the standard allowance for your rank. I realize that this is less than the salary you have received at the law office, so I am raising the monthly stipend I pay you to make up the difference and a slight bit more. A small bonus to cover the cost of your new uniform and any incidentals is also enclosed. I will expect regular reports and prompt action in return.

Do not fail me, Lieutenant Brickham.

Wickham dropped the letter on the table and turned to the other documents in the packet he had received. He found the lieutenant's commission made out to George Brickham. Next came the orders. 10:00? That meant he would have to leave London much earlier than he would prefer to even be awake. And she had only given him five days to prepare. Typical.

After quickly reading the rest of the information in the orders, he dropped that page down on the table as well. The next item was much more to his liking. Enclosed in a sealed paper packet were several bank notes. It was a pity he would have to use the majority of it to buy his new uniform and other gear. At least he already had a horse and tack, a gift from his godfather when he turned eighteen. Perhaps he could find something secondhand and save some of the money for other purposes. Wickham would have to see what was available. If he was to present himself creditably, he could not look slovenly or cheap. He put the packet down on the table as well and took up the glass of wine he had poured just before the messenger had arrived with the letter. He sipped at the drink while he thought.

He knew about the Bennets already. How could he not? He would have to be careful not to betray his origins. Well, telling stories and making people believe them had always been one of Wickham's strengths. He also knew there was much more to this situation than Lady Catherine had told him. Once on the scene he could find out what that was and decide on the course that would be most to his own advantage.

Looking around the small room that had been his home for the last five years, Wickham considered the new assignment. The lodgings had been comfortable enough, but he would not be sorry to leave them. He would find something better when he eventually returned to London. Hopefully, the militia officers would not be quartered in tents like the common men.

The militia. Hmm. The idea was growing on him. He had no desire to be a regular soldier. That may have been Richard Fitzwilliam's dream, but Wickham was too smart to put himself in danger for so little return. The militia was something else. Yes, there would be some training and a little bit of work, but it was not that serious. Wickham knew that the majority of a militia officer's time was spent socializing with the locals or drinking and gambling with his fellow officers. They had all the benefits of the fancy red coat, in particular the effect it had on the ladies, without anyone shooting at them or expecting them to fight. They would be meeting the local gentry as equals in status. If he was lucky, there might even be an heiress he could charm into a lucrative marriage.

Yes. He could turn this to his advantage. Better yet, Lady Catherine had provided him with an alias. If anything went wrong, Lieutenant Brickham could disappear and George Wickham would still be safe.

Smiling now, Wickham picked up the packet of banknotes and stood. He would hide these for now. Tomorrow he would go to the office and collect his belongings. After that, he had a little shopping to do. It was time for a change. If he played his cards correctly, his future would look bright.

Chapter 28: Sighted

Acting more from habit than hope, Darcy searched the ballroom looking for one particular face. It was difficult not to feel discouraged. Here it was, almost the end of March. He had attended so many gatherings in the past two months, yet there was still no hint or word of Miss Elizabeth. Sometimes he wondered if their dance was merely an imagined memory and she a phantom in his mind.

Darcy shook his head slightly as that thought struck him for what might have been the thousandth time. No. She was real. He had spoken to her, danced with her, touched her hand. He would find her.

From his place at Darcy's side, Bingley also looked around the room. He had never seen Miss Elizabeth, so he was not searching the room for her. He was simply enjoying looking at all the ladies in their finery. Off to the side he spotted his younger sister and the smile dropped from his face.

"I am sorry we got off to such a late start this evening, Darcy," he said. It was not the first time he had apologized for their tardiness - after all, they had arrived nearly an hour beyond what would be considered fashionably late - but he continued as if it were. "Caroline was so focused on impressing Mr. Lollard with her appearance tonight that she lost track of time while making her preparations. I can only hope she receives an appropriate reward for her efforts."

Darcy followed his friend's gaze to where Miss Bingley stood in a small group of ladies surrounding a well-dressed man in his late twenties. "It is not a problem," he said, "although I do normally dislike being late. Knowing she is aiming for someone other than me is worth a little tardiness. However, I still think Mr. Lollard is a bit above her touch. He may be only a third son, but he is still the son of a duke. Your sister will have plenty of competition for his attention."

"I know. And she knows as well. That was why she was making such a fuss over her appearance."

"Well, I wish her luck," Darcy said, turning away from his friend's sister to continue his search. Bingley's eyes began to rove again as well.

"I say, Darcy, do you happen to know who those lovely creatures by the punch bowl are? The one in light blue gown is particularly fine. Oh, and is that Sir Barnaby Linton with her?"

Darcy turned his gaze in the indicated direction, already suspecting what he would see. He coughed involuntarily as his suspicions were confirmed. He recognized both the blonde and the strawberry-blonde women from the night of the assembly in Lambton.

"It is Sir Barnaby," he confirmed, "and the lovely creature in blue is Miss Jane Bennet. At least one of the others is her sister."

"Well, well," Bingley said appreciatively, "so that is a Bennet." He looked at his friend with a smirk and asked, "Do you not plan to warn me against them?"

Darcy shook his head and raised his hands in protest. "Oh, no. I have learned my lesson," he said. "I will not say anything against them or any other young women unless what I say comes from my personal experience." He looked back at Miss Bennet and added, "Probably not even then."

"I am just teasing, you know," Bingley said. "Although I will admit I am interested in finally meeting one of the famous Bennet daughters. Do you think Sir Barnaby will introduce us?"

"He could hardly refuse to introduce you," Darcy said.