Wickham turned his chair so his face was hidden from the men at the table to his right. Three of them were strangers to him, but one—a very powerful one—could definitely identify him. It was a risk to be in the room and so close, but he needed to hear what Lord Matlock, Darcy’s uncle, had to say. Perhaps he would share some information which could be used against his nephew.
Wickham drew a letter from his pocket and smoothed out the creases against the table. He had read and reread the letter so many times, he knew it by heart, but it gave a good cover to be pretending to read while listening to the conversation beside him.
The main room of the Blue Thistle was busy, as was always the case, but the card room was almost vacant. Lord Matlock, Mr. Gardiner, Mr. Phillips and Mr. Bennet had been meeting here once a month or more for years. They would discuss business, play cards and imbibe the more quality drinks of the establishment.
Without a word, a barmaid brought over a decanter of port and four glasses. The men nodded their appreciation and Matlock slipped her a coin.
“Well, gentlemen. High stakes or low?” asked Phillips as he cut the cards and prepared to deal.
Gardiner laughed. “Low as always. I would rather like to keep my fortune, such that it is.”
“So, Bennet, how is Bingley adjusting to Netherfield?” Matlock arranged his cards in his hand.
“He is learning quickly. I think, in time, he shall be a fine estate manager. Of course, it does not hurt that he has Darcy to help him along. That boy is positively brilliant at running an estate. He has surely been keeping me on my toes. His father would be proud.”
Phillips threw a card on the table. “With the improvements Bingley is making to Netherfield, I shall have no trouble selling it or leasing it to someone else should he decide not to purchase the estate. And he has done it in such a short time. Oh, to be young and full of vigor.”
“Yes, full of vigor and romantic notions,” quipped Matlock. “I received a very promising letter from my nephew, Bennet. It seems he may be requesting an interview with you shortly.”
Bennet smiled. “I would not be surprised by the request. I am only surprised I have not yet had either Darcy or Bingley in my study. I rather expected Bingley to corner me about a month ago, but I am still waiting. They do take tea at the cottage on a regular basis, and now with Miss Darcy in residence, they are staying for evening meals as well.”
“Ah, but there is an assembly coming in a fortnight,” commented Phillips. “I imagine the young men will wish to stake their claims before then. Now that planting is behind them and estate matters are well-in-hand, I suspect they will be joining us for the assembly?” He leaned back in his chair and studied his cards.
Matlock laughed. “An assembly. What I would not give to see my nephew attending a country assembly. The boy hates crowds and is not particularly fond of dancing. Perhaps I should join you for this assembly.”
“He may not be fond of crowds and dancing, but he is definitely fond of Lizzy. You would be amazed at the change in him, Henry. He’s relaxed and jovial. Not at all the serious chap you described to me or that I met that first day. But, as you predicted, a perfect match for my daughter.”
“I had my suspicions that she would be his counterpart from the first moment I met the little brown-eyed scamp at Gardiner’s. Mind as quick as a whip, personality as strong and gentle as a well-bred mare….just what my duty-bound serious-minded nephew needed. And pretty, too. Pemberley will flourish with such a couple as master and mistress.”
Wickham wanted to clap his hands in glee. Mrs. Young had been correct in her assertion, and better yet, there were four seemingly wealthy gentlemen, in addition to Darcy, who would pay to keep this Miss Elizabeth safe.
He caught the eye of a rather large brute across the room, held up three fingers and motioned to the back door. Then, tossing some money on the table, he pocketed his letter and slipped out of the room.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Mrs. Younge sat in front of her mirror as Hannah pulled a brush through her hair. “Miss Darcy seems well-adjusted to life here at the cottage.”
“Yes, ma’am,” replied Hannah. “She seems to be getting on amiably with these young ladies. I’ve not seen her so happy. Just now, she is gone out gathering berries with Miss Elizabeth.”
“Miss Elizabeth seems to be a favourite of both Mr. and Miss Darcy.”
“Quite. Miss Darcy was telling how her brother is quite besotted with the girl and talking about speaking to her father. But he is waiting to hear from his uncle.”
“I knew he favoured her, but to be petitioning Lord Matlock for approval. It seems we may find ourselves in her employ before long. Proof that humble beginnings can be risen above.” Mrs. Younge laid a hand on Hannah’s arm, stilling the brush “Have you given any more thought to what my sister has to offer?”
Hannah blushed. “I have ma’am, but I am still a maiden and have no easy virtue, so such a life as your sister offers…I do not know.”
Mrs. Younge rose and motioned to Hannah to join her on the bed. “Isabella’s clientele are of the best sort. Most of them are looking for a lady to keep. Often her girls are set up in lovely townhouses with carriages and servants and fine food and clothing. It is a very sumptuous life. One only needs to master the skill of teaching a man to pleasure a woman.”
“But, how does one acquire such a skill?” Hannah asked, eyes wide.
Mrs. Younge leaned a bit closer and lowered her voice just a bit more as she darted a look towards the door. “I have a friend. He is the man who poses as my brother. He is a very good teacher. Isabella employs him as such on a regular basis. Perhaps he might help you decide?”
Hannah gasped. The thought was rather intriguing, but what of the risks? “But, how does one provide the service of a courtesan without the consequences of motherhood?”
Mrs. Younge smiled at the girl’s naiveté. “There are methods which can be used, although to be truthful, none is without risk. My sister takes care of those who do increase; you shall not be turned out.
“While I have a book with illustrations and descriptions which you may read, I really do recommend George. He knows the precautions, and he has helped more than one innocent learn the pleasures of the flesh.” She gripped Hannah’s hand and whispered. “And not one of them ever uttered a word of complaint.”
Hannah gulped and her insides quivered. When Mrs. Younge had first presented the idea of entering her sister’s employ, Hannah had been shocked that a woman in such a trusted position in the Darcy household would speak of such things.
She knew many men of position employed such services, but to speak of it was highly improper. However, over the course of time, she had begun to accept the idea. Hannah was certain that knowing Hannah’s situation in life Mrs. Younge had only spoken of such to her out of concern. Hannah was, after all, alone in the world, an orphan. She had been such from a young age.
Her father had been killed in the street, trampled by a runaway carriage when she was but ten, and her mother had succumbed to a fever not two years later. In the seven years since, she had worked hard to maintain her position in service, rising through the ranks until her current position in service to Miss Darcy had been presented to her. While she found her position as lady’s maid pleasing, she dreamed of a better life, a life of ease and luxury, a life of being cared for by someone—even if that someone was not her husband. If she remained in service, especially if she remained with Miss Darcy, she knew her life would be comfortable as the Darcys were generous and caring employers, but her life would never be her own. She had risen as high as a female below stairs might. She was not educated. She had attempted to learn to read, but her success was limited. She possessed not the skills to rise any higher, to attain any further success. Her decision seemed to be made for her.
“The book, do you have it with you?”
Mrs. Younge went to the wardrobe and rummaged through a bag. She handed a small book that could fit easily into a pocket to Hannah. “Should I pen a note to George? I am expecting him to be in Meryton on business later this week. Meeting with him does not obligate you to say yes to my sister. It will only give you all the information you need to make a decision. Of course, the meeting would have to be kept secret. Should Mr. Darcy hear of it, you may find you have no choice but to accept my sister’s offer.” Should Mr. Darcy hear of George’s presence in the neighbourhood, all would be lost. This time, she could not secretly inform her employer of his maid’s actions forcing the maid into Isabella’s employ. No, this time, there was no way to ensure against the guilt that had caused more than one young maid to question her decisions. This time successfully acquiring Hannah for Isabella’s establishment would have to rely solely on George’s skills.
Hannah thumbed through the book. She knew of what happened between a man and a woman, but this book, these illustrations, were shocking and fascinating. She nodded her head. Yes, she would meet with him.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Mrs. Younge strolled in front of the Meryton shops. She paused to look into windows here and there as she went. A small package of lace and buttons was tucked into her reticule along with a small packet of comfits and a tincture to aid with sleep from the apothecary. She noted a man limping along the street. He appeared to be headed toward the inn. At a careful distance, she followed.
The elderly gentleman stopped and turned toward her. “Mrs. Younge,” his feeble voice crackled. “It is such a pleasure to see you.”
“Mr. Worthing,” said Mrs. Younge. “How are Isabella and her children?”
“Fine, fine. Those girls keep her busy with all their comings and goings. Could use another maid, she could.”
“As fortune would have it, I might be able to assist you in your search. Do you have a moment for tea, Mr. Worthing?”
“Indeed, Mrs. Younge. Would it be too improper for a man of my age to request you take tea in my rooms?”
“No, but I shall bring Hannah with me none-the-less. One cannot be too cautious when it comes to appearances.” Mrs. Younge laughed softly.
“Indeed. Where is this Hannah? Must we wait for tea?”
“No, Hannah is just coming now.”
“Oh, my Mrs. Younge, she is a pretty little thing. How old?”
“Just turned nineteen this past summer. I have worked with her for almost a year now.” Mrs. Younge continued her tale, weaving a believable story for the ears of any who might happen by.
“A finer maid cannot be found, but, she does have family who could use her assistance. They are from near your home. It is so dreadfully far for her to travel on her current wages. I would hate to see her go, but if it could bring relief to her family, I will make the sacrifice.”
“You are too good, Mrs. Younge.” He chuckled lightly.
“Hannah,” Mrs. Younge said as the young maid approached. “We are going to take tea with Mr. Worthing in his rooms at the inn. He is a friend of long standing. His daughter Isabella is in need of a new maid.”
Hannah drew in a deep breath. “Of course, ma’am.” She looked at Mr. Worthing carefully. She knew Mrs. Younge had said he was a fine teacher in the arts of being a courtesan, but she had really expected someone much younger, not this grey-haired, doddering gentleman who looked old enough to be her grandfather.
The old man extended an arm to each of them. Hannah placed her hand on his arm. It was not the saggy, soft feeling arm of a feeble old man. “Do not worry,” a smooth voice whispered in her ear. “I am not nearly as old or as safe as I appear. People are less likely to gossip if you are found in my company as an elderly man.”
Hannah turned to look at the gentleman beside her. His eyes were friendly and definitely not old. She smiled at him slightly.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Together the three of them entered the inn and proceeded to the suite of rooms rented by Mr. Worthing. A maid carrying a tea tray followed them. Mr. Worthing thanked the girl and closed the door making sure to bolt it. He removed his hat and grey wig. “A few scrubs of a cloth, and I shall be forty years younger.” He disappeared into the bedroom.
“You are sure you wish to do this?” questioned Mrs. Younge.
“I am,” said Hannah. “How else will I make an informed decision?”
“Then, you should have some tea with brandy.” Mrs. Younge pulled a small flask from her reticule. “It will ease your nerves. Everyone is nervous the first time.”
“Thank you.” Hannah gulped the tea that was given to her.
Wickham rejoined them and sat casually in a chair. He had shed his jacket and waistcoat already and now he was stripping off his cravat. “I have a more appropriate set of clothes for our meeting, Hannah. They are lying on the bed. Take your time; there is no need to rush. Just open the door when you are ready. Do you require assistance with any of your fastenings?”
“No, sir. We maids must be adept at fastening and unfastening our own clothing.”
“George. Call me George.”
“Thank you, George.” Hannah rose and went to the bedroom.
“A fine treat you have brought me today, Sophia.” He leant across and placed a long, slow kiss on her mouth. “Not as tasty as you, I am sure.”
“But fresh and untouched, just the way you prefer them, George.” Mrs. Younge ran a finger along his jaw. “Now, about the other business. You have employed the necessary men?”
“Indeed. I have four rather hulking men waiting for my orders. And what are my orders, my lady?” He trailed a finger down her neck and traced the edge of her neckline.
“George, really. You must focus.” She took his hand from her bodice and held it. “There will be time for that later. Right now, we have a few minutes before your instruction begins for Hannah, and the details of our plan must be in place.” She leaned closer and whispered her plans to him.
“Very thorough as always, Sophia. Now, could you please find a way to take a walk by yourself later today? ” He nibbled at her neck. “I do find you incredibly delicious, but breaking the new fillies pays the bills.” He stood, pulled her into a very firm embrace but released her quickly as the bedroom door began to open.
“George, I cannot tell her employer of this indiscretion, so you really do need to convince her that Isabella’s offer is worthy of acceptance.”
“Right. I shall do my best.”