Free The Gypsy Blessing by Wendi Sotis Page A

Fitzwilliam was here. I am certain he will come to Ramsgate directly when I write him in the morning and tell him of your presence here.”
    Wickham’s smile faded, and he suddenly paled. He cleared his throat. “Dearest Georgiana, I would prefer it if you did not tell him that I am at Ramsgate.”
    Georgiana answered, “But why, George? You are a particular friend of Fitzwilliam’s—” She shook her head.
    “I once thought so, too...” Wickham closed his eyes for several heartbeats, and then met her gaze. “Will you simply trust me on this, my dear? It saddens me to speak of this subject. I do not wish to cause you any pain.”
    “Cause me pain?” It was not the first time this evening that Georgiana’s heartbeat had quickened, but this time it was not a result of Wickham’s smouldering gazes or his fingers grazing her hand when Mrs. Younge was not looking in their direction. Now, fear fueled her rapid pulse.
    Wickham sighed deeply before speaking in a reluctant tone, “I am afraid the reason I have not seen your brother for the past several years is that we have had a falling out.” His gaze fell to where his fingers toyed with the stem of his wine glass. “But, I wouldn’t feel comfortable speaking of your brother’s betrayal to anyone .” He quickly looked up at Georgiana with horror in his expression. “Oh! I did not mean to say that—”
    Georgiana gasped. “Betrayal? Fitzwilliam ?”
    The sight of Wickham’s eyes filling with tears nearly broke Georgiana’s heart as he whispered with defeat, “My devotion to your father’s memory forbids that I should utter another word upon the subject.”
    The young lady looked at Mrs. Younge to see if she knew to what Wickham referred, but her companion sat still, in wide-eyed astonishment.
    Georgiana asked, “Please, will you not explain, sir?”
    Wickham shook his head.
    “You can trust us, George.” Georgiana reached for his hand. “I must know what Fitzwilliam has done to cause this breach in your friendship.”
    Wickham sighed deeply. “My dear lady, please be aware of how it pains me to my very soul to expose him in this manner, but you have convinced me of your need to know more of this circumstance.” He swallowed a bracing gulp of wine before he continued. “Your father treated me like a son, Georgiana.” Wickham looked off into the distance and smiled wistfully. “Mr. Darcy was such a kind and generous gentleman; he did more for me than I had ever expected.”
    Georgiana smiled.
    Wickham continued, “I had nothing more to offer him in return but my love, which I shared freely.”
    Georgiana had not seen a tear fall, but he wiped at his cheek, so she assumed one must have done so.
    Wickham looked off into the distance once again and furrowed his brow. “When your father passed on...” Wickham paused to sigh again. “He had already been so generous towards me, but no matter how much I loved him as a father, I was not actually his son. I am sure you can understand my astonishment when he bequeathed to me a living, plus one thousand pounds.”
    Georgiana’s smile fell with his next statement.
    “But—oh, please, dearest Georgiana. Please, do not ask me to say anything further. Nay, I would not destroy the way you view your brother!”
    Georgiana began to tremble. After a minute or two passed in an uncomfortable silence, she asked, “Which living did Father leave to you?”
    Wickham swallowed hard before answering, “The living at Kympton.”
    “Since you are not yet a clergyman, I assumed the living you were promised had not fallen vacant, but Mr. Harper became rector at Kympton after Father died!”
    Wickham nodded and looked down at his plate. His voice was again a whisper when he replied, “My claim to the living was denied.”
    “But how... how could Fitzwilliam do such a thing?” She shook her head. “And why?”
    “Hearing Mr. Darcy’s laughter was a balm to my heart, and so I tried to make him laugh as much as possible.