P&P Prelude to Pemberley: Wickham Writes to Darcy

Welcome to our Pride & Prejudice prequel! P&P: Prelude to Pemberley tells the story of the time leading up to the events of Pride & Prejudice, including what Darcy and Elizabeth were doing and thinking, Georgiana Darcy’s story, the events of Ramsgate, how Mr. Bingley came to lease Netherfield, and much more! Join us on our journey as the Austen Variations authors post the events of 1811 in real time on the date they happened – 214 years in the future.

Wickham Writes to Darcy

15 January 1811

Darcy stood at the window of his study, watching the winter sun cast long shadows across Pemberley’s snow-covered grounds. The pain of his father’s absence was particularly acute in January, when the house fell silent after the bustle of the festive season. It was particularly noticeable upon leaving Matlock for Pemberley.

Darcy sighed. He almost wished he could keep Georgiana at home with a governess, but it was not possible. His aunt the countess assured him that Georgiana needed to be around other girls, to have companions her own age and learn to navigate society before she was presented. Two years would slip by very quickly, he knew. Still, the thought of his little sister alone among strangers and unhappy made him feel terribly guilty.

The estate books sitting beside Georgiana’s letter demanded his attention. His father had made it all look so effortless. The management of tenants, the constant upkeep of fields and homes, the endless stream of correct decisions required to keep Pemberley thriving. Darcy felt the weight of each choice pressed upon him, wondering if he would ever measure up to his father.

“Sir?” the butler asked from the open doorway. Darcy had no idea how long he had been there.

“Yes?”

“A letter has come from Lambton for you.” The old man’s lips pursed. “It is from Mr. George Wickham.”

Darcy grunted and took it. The familiar, elegant hand brought back memories of shared lessons, shared adventures, shared confidences, now tainted by the knowledge of Wickham’s true character. He was a gamester of the worst sort, one who believed himself far more skilled than he was. But he had a way about him that charmed others. How many times had his father praised George’s quick wit and charismatic manner?

Yet his father had not known everything. Had not seen how that charm masked a gambler’s reckless heart, how that quick wit was employed in the pursuit of immediate pleasures rather than lasting achievement. The living at Kympton would have been wasted on such a man. It would have been used merely as security against more debts, while the spiritual needs of the parish went unmet. Thank heavens that Wickham had not been patient enough to wait for the living to fall open and had requested to be bought out instead.

Clearly this missive would be a petition for more money. It was always the same, but this time Darcy would not capitulate. The man had not appeared for his godfather’s funeral, nor had he sent a note of condolence. Only when he learned he had been left something in the will had Wickham made his way to Pemberley. And then, when he heard what was to be his, one thousand pounds and the possibility of the Kympton living, he had not been grateful. He had wished to negotiate a sale, and Darcy had been only too pleased to comply. Wickham should not be a clergyman. Instead, he would disappear into London’s gaming hells and be out of Darcy’s life.

Apparently, that had been overly optimistic. He broke the plain seal and began to read.

15 January 1811

Darcy,

I trust this letter finds you well. Having spent these past weeks visiting my mother for the festive season, I cannot help but remember racing through Pemberley’s grounds with you. Your dear father would watch us from his study window, laughing at our antics. How he doted on us both, his son and godson, raised almost as brothers. It is thoughts of those cherished days that give me courage to address you, my oldest friend.

Though it pains me to burden you with my troubles, I write to you now in some distress. My attempt to establish myself in the law has proved most unprofitable. I did not understand how essential connections were for one to be called to the bar. My circumstances have become exceedingly difficult, and I find myself increasingly drawn to the church, a calling I believe I might yet fulfil with credit, given the opportunity.

With news of poor Mr. Williams’s passing, I apply to you once more regarding the living at Kympton. I know your father intended it for me, and as I understand you have no other candidate in mind for the position, surely his wishes might still be honoured. I am resolved now to take orders, and I cannot think you would have forgotten your father’s wishes in this matter.

I know there has been some unfortunate tension between us regarding the living at Kympton, but surely such a small matter cannot truly divide us? While I am still in the neighbourhood, I would be most grateful for the opportunity to speak with you in person. Perhaps over a glass of that excellent port your father always favoured?

You must know how deeply I respected him, Darcy. He was like a second father to me, and I know he wished us to remain close always. He would be grieved to see this distance between us. With your position and influence, surely we can find some arrangement that would satisfy us both? I am confident that once we speak face to face, as the dear friends we have always been, all will be set right between us.

Do say you will see me, Darcy. For the sake of old times, for the memory of your beloved father, grant me this small favour. I remain ever your most sincere friend and humble servant,

George Wickham

Darcy stared at the letter. The boldness of the inquiry was astonishing. He had alerted his solicitor’s office to advance Wickham money for his board and lodging if it appeared that he was applying himself, so he knew that the man had never opened a book. Darcy had not believed he would, but he had hoped. And of course the letter made no mention of the three thousand pounds Wickham had accepted in lieu of the living.

“’Unfortunate tension,’ he calls it,” Darcy muttered. “And to invoke father’s wishes!”

He might not be managing Pemberley or his sister as well as his father had, but this decision was one he would never regret. He took up his pen and wrote his answer.

15 January 1811

Mr. Wickham,

I have received your letter and must decline your request for a meeting. My position regarding the living at Kympton is that you requested payment in lieu of the preferment, and that you have received it. Any attempt to appeal to childhood memories or my father’s name will not alter this fact.

Do not write to me again.

F. Darcy

 

After sanding the letter, Darcy sat back in his chair and felt, for once, entirely certain of his course. His father had loved them both, yes, but he had also taught Darcy the meaning of duty, of responsibility, of protecting who and what had been entrusted to his care. In refusing Wickham, he was not betraying his father’s memory. He was honouring it.

Read all the scenes in Prelude to Pemberley here!