Chapter Sixty-Four

A fter leaving Mrs. Harvester's house, Wickham was brought up before a judge, who took all of two minutes to conclude that the prisoner could not pay his debts. He was then taken to Fleet Prison.

When he and three other prisoners were decanted at the gates of the prison, Wickham craned his neck, searching for Evelina. Surely she was here, somewhere, and had found a means of rescuing him.

But he did not see her. He was pushed roughly from behind; finding himself face-to-face with a large man with cruel eyes, he pulled himself up to his full height and said, "I am certain this is a misunderstanding."

The man held out his hand and said, "Ten shillings to keep your clothing."

"Ten shillings? I do not have –" The large man was evidently done with the conversation, as he pushed George towards another man, who stripped him down to his smalls, clapped his hands in irons, and dragged a loudly protesting George Wickham down two flights of stairs, down to a small, dark, damp room in which seven nearly naked men were sitting on the floor.

One of the men groaned upon seeing George. "Guv'nor, we ain't got room for another – well, damn your eyes!" The last was added as the door was unlocked and George was shoved inside.

***

Evelina Younge Wickham watched from the Ludgate entrance to the city as George Wickham was taken from the back of a wagon and pushed toward the entrance of the prison. She was able, from her vantage point, to see his head swivel about. She knew he was looking for her, but she was determined not to be seen.

Evelina had experienced a sort of awakening the moment she had watched her twenty-five pounds disappear into George's hand. She knew enough of sponging houses to understand that the money would be used to feed George for several days, and he would then be taken to prison. It was impossible for them to raise five thousand pounds, of course, so there he would remain, likely for the remainder of his life.

She had put up with a good deal from him. She had watched him make love to and even marry Georgiana Darcy, while all along it had been she, Evelina Younge, who had truly been Mrs. Wickham. What other woman in all of England would have endured so much and been rewarded with so little?

It had taken her a long time to save up that twenty-five pounds. She would not be so foolish again.