A Continued Affection

Part 21

"You're sure I can't persuade you to join me?"

Denny stood at a crossroads, staring plaintively up at his friend. He tugged on a lock of hair, making him look even younger than his years, and the realisation irritated George Wickham more than it should have.

"Go on without me. You don't need me to hold your hand, I'm sure."

This had been unnecessarily cruel, and he smiled to soften the blow.

"Besides, I've already taken up to much of your time with my errands. I'll see to the rest myself and let you go and enjoy yourself." He stretched his smile thin as if to prove how genuinely he meant the dismissal, but even so, it was a moment before Denny shrugged and acquiesced, strolling down the road to the inn at which he had an appointment with friends.

Wickham might have gone with him. They were bound to be an agreeable set, for Denny seemed incapable of making any other kind of friend. He might even have succeeded in scoring himself a free meal, as he had done free passage to London and a bed - albeit little more than a blanket on the floor of Denny's room. Had cards been decided on, the whole thing might even have led to Wickham walking away in profit, so what made him refuse Denny's invitation so vociferously?

I have errands of my own to see to, he had said. It hadn't been a complete lie. He'd been unable to shrug Denny off yet that day, and been forced to bring him along to call on Colonel Fitzwilliam, which had led to him talking in circles in hopes of keeping the real cause of the call hidden from his friend. Wickham had never been particularly partial to friends like Denny and his type, who were easily won and even more easily manipulated, but just at present, conscious as he was of his own past sins and misdeeds, Wickham felt strangely possessive of the few friends he had and eager to keep them. At least Denny had taken the hint and allowed him to approach the colonel alone. Not that that had been of any benefit. Wickham winced, recalling the blazing fury that Colonel Fitzwilliam had scarcely concealed when he saw just who had stepped over the threshold of his poky, regimental offices. Had it not been for the recruit who had shown Wickham in, the colonel would doubtless have physically manhandled him out, as painfully as possible. As it was, he had given Wickham precisely three minutes of his time and given every indication of listening to what George had to say, although whether he believed a word of it was another matter.

Wickham rubbed the back of his neck, wondering what had compelled him to come here in the first place. I made a stab at repentance. It hasn't got me all that far...perhaps now is about the time I should call it quits.

He stopped in his slow progress down the street, moments away from turning on his heel and jogging a little to catch up with Denny. His friend's reception was sure to be positive, and dash it all, he was hungry. Something kept him rooted to his spot, though, wary of abandoning the path he had begun, however falteringly, to walk down.

"Mr Wickham! Is that you?"

The call of recognition was accompanied by a squeal and Wickham barely had time to rearrange his features into a bright smile before he was mobbed by a crowd of young ladies, and their mother, who was perhaps more enthusiastic than any of them to have spotted dear Mr Wickham so very far from home.

"I might say the same of Hertfordshire, Mrs Bennet," he remarked, deploying his trademark smile with moderate success, as the matriarch fluttered and flittered in his presence. "You forget, I am but lately arrived there, too."

"Lately arrived and even latelier leaving!" Kitty remarked, entirely oblivious of both grammar and her sister, who was inching ever closer to Wickham, determined to be the one to whom he was forced to offer his arm.

"And what brings you ladies here? I trust you have not been dispatched on regimental business?"

It was a lie but only slight, and unlikely ever to be unravelled by ladies such as this. Wickham glanced past the broad shoulders of Mrs Bennet, surprised to see only her two youngest daughters with her.

"You have abandoned your sisters, perhaps, and snuck away for an adventure?" He winked, and Lydia beamed at him, triumphantly succeeding in slipping her hand through his arm and forcing him to escort her.

"We have come shopping!" she declared, with a grin. "On account of tomorrow's assembly."

"Oh?" Wickham smiled, unsurprised that even in London Lydia should find little else of interest beyond shopping and dancing. "You plan to attend?"

"Of course!" Lydia was affronted. "Oh, and you must come too! Do, do say you will! Tell him he must, Mama, for we should love to have more friends there to dance with."

"More friends?" Wickham raised his eyebrows. "And who else do you plan on dancing with?" His thoughts had turned to Denny, who was so much in love with Lydia that his day would be truly conquered once he heard that she was in London and looking for a dance partner at the upcoming assembly. It would be a gift, Wickham thought, this piece of news, the encouragement to attend. It would make up for his uncharitable thoughts towards simple-headed, agreeable Denny and he had already begun to rehearse how he might deliver it. He had forgotten, then, that the same people he had been torn between seeing and avoiding in London might be the very same people Lydia Bennet could consider "friends."

"Why, Mr Bingley of course!" she declared, airily. Glancing at her mother, she sighed. "At least he is Jane's friend." She giggled as if this was a secret she ought not to be sharing, and not a piece of news that had been evident to any that had chanced to see Charles Bingley in company with Jane Bennet for more than a moment.

"Mr Darcy is here too," Lydia continued. "And think! We met his sister." She lifted her chin as if this news were worthy of note and Wickham recalled, too late, that he was meant to be surprised by this development.

"Indeed? And what do you think of her?"

"Charming!" Kitty declared.

"Agreeable enough, but a little shy." Lydia sniffed.

"You only think so because she was more partial to Mary and Elizabeth than to you," Kitty said, unkindly. "She certainly had plenty of pleasant things to say to me."

"Oh, go and spend your afternoon calling on her then!" Lydia retorted, with a wicked look. "Mama and I shall keep Mr Wickham all to ourselves. Now, come along and offer your advice, as a gentleman, on my choice of ribbons..."

Kitty pouted, and fell into line behind them, taking her mother's arm and whispering bitterly about Lydia's cruelties. Wickham was forced to swallow his indecision and frustration, and escort the party to the first of several shops, all the while wondering what other things, pleasant or not so pleasant, Georgiana Darcy might choose to share with people concerning him.