A Most Respectable Elopement, Part Thirty Two: Epilogue

Over the past months we have followed George Wickham and Lydia Bennet from the ballrooms to Brighton to the altar, via Napoleonic spies, heroic encounters and a lot of sauce. Today our tale of this infamous couple concludes; we hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as we have!

Catherine Curzon and Nicole Clarkston

You can relive this scandalous story from the beginning below.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve,Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Twenty One, Twenty Two,Twenty Three, Twenty Four, Twenty Five, Twenty Six, Twenty Seven, Twenty Eight, Twenty Nine, Thirty, Thirty One.

Lydia Wickham had never danced so long, laughed so merrily, nor been admired by so many as she had been on this night. To tired feet or an aching head she would not confess, but she was quite satisfied to at last take the arm of her beloved to witness the final festivities of the triumphal ball. Distinguished gentlemen and bedazzled ladies gathered round as the final champagne was uncorked and the last huzzahs were offered.

Napoleon Bonaparte was defeated, England was safe, and her very own Sir George Wickham was a decorated hero. He smiled down at her now, though a dozen ladies vied for his attention and as many gentlemen had clapped him on the back in congratulation for the honours accorded him this night. Through it all, he had eyes only for her.

“Lady W,” George Wickham purred as he took her hand. “You have dazzled all of Europe and now London too. I am the envy of every man in this ballroom, from those who wear crowns to those who tend them.”

He bowed low and added, “And you still dazzle me every day.”

“As is only fitting,” she replied blithely. “For did I not, I would not be honouring my distinguished husband as he deserves. Are you quite satisfied, my love?” She brushed the glittering new medal at his breast, and met his warm gaze with a playful one of her own. “No other was accorded this honour, you know. It was your saving of those troops, by your own cleverness and nobility, which impressed the Regent. And you are quite my own! How could I not dazzle, when I shine with pride for you?”

“And it was your acquiring of the battle plans that gave me the intelligence to set the scheme in motion. Without your sleight of hand, many families would have no loved one to welcome home.” Wickham slipped his arm through hers and patted her hand. “I have been blessed indeed.”

“That fool lieutenant was a pleasure to beguile,” she laughed. “La, how shocked he was when you nearly took his head off for touching me! But it has all come right, and everyone now knows your valour. I suppose that must be the end of any spy work for you, for you are too famous now. You must now find another way to serve king and country.”

“I believe we have earned some time alone before we consider such weighty matters as king and country,” he smiled. “Would you not say, my love?”

She smothered a private smile, for his thoughts so perfectly mirrored her own, but she was not ready to let the matter rest. Too delightful was he to tease, for her rose so admirably to each jest. “My love,” she protested, all innocence, “who will save the Prussian attache, or become the new ambassador to India?”

“I shall be both and more besides,” her husband chuckled. “And you shall be empress of Russia whilst we’re at it. Would that please my lady?”

She affected a pout, cast her eyes to the gilded ceiling, and considered. “I was thinking something rather less glamorous, but far more satisfying. Have you no other lofty objects which we might consider?”

“I shall build you a castle,” he decided, the dropped his voice to a whisper to tell her, “Or simply take you to bed and stay there for the next few weeks?”

She stood somewhat taller, her eyes brightening. “Say ‘months’ and we have an agreement. Oh, my darling, may we not retire? The guests of honour and distinction are never the last to leave a party, of course.”

“Then months it shall be.” Wickham smiled, his eyes sparkling with happiness. “And I believe the moment has come to depart the ballroom. Always leave your audience wanting more.”

She drew up her shoulders, just as the finest lady in any court, and grandly rested her arm over his as he began to bow his regrets to their bevy of admirers. “My darling,” she confided in a low voice as they approached their carriage, “do you know, this business of the last few years has taught me a terribly useful new talent. Would you care to hear of it?”

“Another?” He assisted her into the opulent interior with a nod to the footman and pulled the door shut behind them. “Do tell, you glorious creature.”

“Oh, why, it is the most useful art. I do not quite know how I ever managed without it, for I might have spared myself much trouble and scolding as a girl, had I known to employ my trick then.” She rested against the velvet squabs of the grand carriage and casually plucked the satin gloves from her fingers. “I believe I have you to thank for some little of my acquisition of this talent.”

“Swordplay?” Wickham quirked one eyebrow and set his hand gently on her silk-draped thigh. “Marksmanship?”

“La, but you are so strange!” she laughed. “You know of those abilities quite well, for it was you who taught me to knock the apple off the post from thirty paces and you who showed me how to disarm a man with my own blade. No, my love, this is a far more useful thing, and one I am quite certain that you do not know of. My own parents would be astounded!”

“Breaking a code?” He peered more closely, as though he might see the secret in her merry eyes. “Not beguiling an emperor, for that is a talent you are already adept in. Prinny barely looked away from you all night, the old rogue!”

She tilted her head and pursed her cherry lips. “Code breaking is rather simple, for it is the same as beguiling an emperor. All that is needed is the right man, and I may charm the answer from him in a trice. No, my dear, I think you will be quite astonished at my new talent. Shall I tell you, or shall I continue to tease?”

“Tell me, you dreadful teasing minx!” Wickham kissed her on those cherry lips and touched his forehead to hers. “And I shall show you my gratitude all night long.”

“Then we have a bargain,” she whispered into his cheek. “Very well, my love, prepare to be astonished. I have learned,” she leaned closer and her lips brushed his ear, “to keep a secret.”

He laughed softly and asked, “But not from your loving, devoted husband?”

“My dear, what do you take me for?” she drew back in mock horror. “Why, if I intended to keep it from you, I would never breathe a word of suspicion in your hearing. Nay, for my abilities are far more sophisticated than that. But before I reveal my secret, I think I should like to be comfortable, and this simply gorgeous headdress will not suit to the occasion.”

“Then let us hope this carriage hastens us home, and your ladies are quick to attend you!” The vehicle drew to a halt and Wickham kissed her again. “Away with you, Lady Wickham, and when nought but a banyan and a smile stand between you and I, I will hasten to your chamber.”

“An excellent plan, my love, for naught but the finest comforts will do for the revelation I have planned.”

Some while after this, once the maids had settled their lavishly appointed mistress and the gentle knight of the realm had received the attentions of his gentleman’s man, Lydia had the privilege of seeing the door to her chamber opened by a smiling chevalier in a red silk robe. She slid to the side of her large poster bed and laid aside the sheets to receive him. “I had begun to grow impatient, my love.”

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“Yet you are the one who knows the secret; I am the one left waiting to hear.” Wickham threw off the banyan with a flourish and climbed into bed beside Lydia. He drew the sheets up to his waist and snuggled close to her, nuzzling a kiss to her shoulder. “Tell me, you glorious creature, what secret do you hold?”

“Oh, my dearest, do you not simply adore a fine adventure? Is it not the wine of life, heady and sweet and more than a little romantic?” She wriggled a little more closely, resting her head on his chest. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and held her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“I love every adventure we have had,” Wickham told her. “And the greatest of all has been this marriage to you, the finest prize a man might wish. I love you, Lydia Wickham, as much today as I did when we stood at the altar.”

“You know just how to please, my love, but you are wrong about one thing. Our life to this point, delicious and wild and wondrous as it has been, is not the greatest adventure, for one thing remains.”

She felt a frown of concentration on the lips that rested against her hair, his voice a whisper when he mused, “We have material comforts, stories to tell, the love we share… Would that one thing be a very small, very blessed thing?”

“Blessed, of course, but what Wickham can be small? I expect our young George shall be a giant among men, just as his father is. But if you care to dispute me on that point, you shall have to wait until August, for I expect he shall announce his arrival to our happy adventure around then.”

“My darling girl!” He hugged her tight to him, his voice alive with joy and wonder. “A babe to call our own? The first young Wickham of many!”

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“And a most respectable family we shall have, I dare say. I hope to have at least as many girls as my mama, and more young men besides. What more could any happy couple want for perfect felicity?”

“And that, my marvellous, magnificent Lady Lydia Wickham, will be the greatest adventure of all!”

The End!