Amanda Grange - Wickham’s Diary

Mama wanted to know all about my friends at Cambridge when I went home for a few days. I was surprised to find her unwell, but as she lay on the sofa. I told her about the men of all types, the hard-riding countrymen with their well-worn boots and ill-fitting coats; the studious men with their abstracted air and their boots on the wrong feet; the wild men with their whoops and their drunkenness; and the dandies in their breeches that never wrinkle and their diamond tiepins.

She asked me about Fitzwilliam, and if I was still friends with him. and what he did at Cambridge. I told her that he was aloof, that he did not mix freely with the other men. that he had no taste for the drunks or the countrymen, and that he was unimpressed with the dandies' wealth. Mama said that she was not surprised, for he has seen far more ostentation at Leighford Castle, where he goes to stay with his Fitzwilliam cousins, than even Cambridge can muster.

I have never been invited there, despite my best efforts, but I live in hope that I may one day cross the threshold. There are two daughters, both unmarried, and although their parents would not approve of me as a son-in-law, the daughters are, by all accounts, headstrong. And when has a parents' disapproval ever stopped a headstrong girl from doing anything?

Fitzwilliam came to my lodgings this evening. He was bored, and he strode around the room like a tiger in a cage. I said as much and he turned to me and said. 'Do you ever feel you are looking for something. George?'

A rich wife, I thought, but I did not say it. It would not do to let Fitzwilliam know that I am hoping for an heiress, or he might think to keep Anne and Georgiana away from me. And he would definitely not persuade his cousins invite me to Leighford Castle.

'No,' I said. 'Do you?'

He drummed his fingers on the mantelpiece. 'Yes.'

'What?' I asked.

'I do not know,' he said with a frown. 'But I will know when I find it.' He was thoughtful for a while and then he said, 'Let us go out.'

'Where?'

'To my club.'

'I am not a member.'

'That can easily be remedied.' he said. 'My name will be enough to have you elected.'

We went out together and I soon found myself in a respectable establishment, too respectable for my tastes, though not for my purposes. I looked around me, making a note of names and faces, for who knows when the men at the club might prove useful in some way?

Fitzwilliam was still restless. He talked of his mother's devotion, his father's belief in him, his hopes for Cambridge, and his plans for the London house, but his mind was on none of it.

He knew everyone at the club and he introduced me. Before long we were talking to half a dozen fellows of our own age and we were soon on our way to a party organised by one of them.

When we arrived, I saw the way the women looked at Fitzwilliam and I thought, my mother was right, there is something about him that women find a challenge.

But then I thought no more of Fitzwilliam, for we soon became separated and not all of the women wanted a challenge. Some of them wanted a man to tease them and flirt with them and I was happy to oblige them.

I found myself drinking with Peter de Quincy tonight. I have seen him often before and exchanged a few words, but this time we spent all the evening together. He is a man after my own heart, though fortunately not a man after my own pocket. He is very wealthy, has a taste for drink and women, and his money is so easily come by that he can afford to give it away to friends who amuse him. He has recommended me to his tailor and he has given the man instructions that everything is to be put on his bill.

'There isn't a man in Cambridge can wear a coat like you do, George,' he said. 'And if there's one thing I want from my friends, it's that they don't disgrace me. We're going to a parly at old Geffers's rooms tomorrow. You'll like old Geffers and you'll like his company more. He has a way of finding the prettiest and the most willing women in any city he's staying in, and his cellar's the best you'll find anywhere in the county.'

We had a riotous night last night and I was just returning to my own room at seven o'clock this morning when I saw Darcy. He was up early and going out for a morning ride.

'Join me,' he said.

'My dear fellow, I am in no state for a ride.'

He eyed me distastefully.

'So I see. If you must drink. George, do it in better company. De Quincy has a bad reputation.'

'Are you afraid he'll lead me astray?' I asked, laughing.

'Yes, I am.' he said seriously. 'It's easy to get into bad habits somewhere like this, where there is no regular life to drag you out of them.'

'Good God. Darcy. you sound like my father!' I said.

'Will you come with me, George? The fresh air will do you good.'

For a moment I wavered. The thought of riding through the early morning countryside had a certain appeal. But my head hurt and in the end I declined. There will be time enough for riding in the holidays when I am back at Pemberley. I mean to enjoy myself whilst I am at Cambridge.

Damn! My head hurts. I wish I could remember what I was doing last night, where I went and who I was with. What was it that Mama said: that I should never get drunk, that I should keep a clear head, particularly if I was playing cards? Oh God! Mama! Oh God! I had forgotten. The fever took her so quickly... Where is the bottle?

I was roused from my stupor this morning by the sound of my door opening and then footsteps which stopped by my bed and then the curtains were pulled back and sunlight flooded the room. I groaned and clutched my head and said. 'Close the damn curtains. What is the matter with you?'

'It is twelve o'clock, time you were up,' said a voice I recognised.

'Darcy,' I said with a groan.

'This has gone on long enough. I cannot stand by and watch you sink any further.'

I put my head under the pillow.

'Just look at yourself.' he said, ripping the pillow from me and throwing a jug of water over me.

'Well?' I asked.

'I know we have grown apart, George, but you were never like this. You were always so careful with your appearance.'

I looked down, bleary eyed, at my clothes and saw that they were dirty and creased, for I had slept in them for God knows how long.

'I told you de Quincy was trouble. Where is your comb?'

'Somewhere,' I said, waving towards my desk.

I heard him rummaging through the papers and empty bottles and half-eaten sandwiches.

'You're worth more than this, George,' he said. 'For a few weeks there's no harm in it, but it can all too easily become a habit. Just look at your desk,' he said, throwing an empty bottle into the bin. 'Everything a mess, papers everywhere...'

He stopped and there was a deathly silence.

'I had no idea,' he said, and I knew he had found my father's letter. 'George, I am so sorry, I had not heard.'

'Nothing to be sorry about,' I said, with a feeling of hollowness. 'We live, we die, and there's an end of it.'

I pulled a half-empty bottle out from under the bed and put it to my lips, but he took it from me and sent for his valet.

'Get him up.' he said to the man when he arrived. 'I want him ready in half an hour. I am taking him to Pemberley.'

I wish I was back at Cambridge. I am glad I am at home. Lord, I do not know what I think or what I feel; I do not know where I am or what I am doing. Nothing is the same. The house without Mama is not a home. Papa is broken. Mr Darcy is thoughtful. Fitzwilliam is kind. God damn him! Why could he not have left me alone?

I avoided Peter de Quincy when I first returned to Cambridge, but he keeps seeking me out and it is easier to go along with him than resist him. Besides, he knows all the best people and, when he is not frequenting low taverns, he is introducing me to useful friends. I see less of Darcy than I used. Something about him makes me uncomfortable. He wants to save me, to put my feet on the right path, but his idea of the right path for me does not involve heiresses. On the few occasions I have seen him, I have rebuffed him.

I went to a party, a respectable one, tonight and saw Darcy for the first time in weeks. He was looking very handsome. For a moment I was jealous, for I knew that my own body had started to show the signs of too much drinking and wenching and not enough signs of riding and fencing. I shrugged it off, but when I saw the women hanging on his every word and ignoring me, I knew I must do something about it. To be sure, a lot of it is to do with the fact that he is Darcy of Pemberley, but not all. And I must not forget that I intend to be Wickham of Rosings. It would not do to go to seed before I have my future secure.

I went to bed sober last night and got up early this morning. I had forgotten how much I enjoy being out of doors when the sun is rising. I felt invigorated and full of new energies. It is time to put the past behind me and look to the future.