Chapter Text
“He so far recommended himself to Georgiana, whose affectionate heart retained a strong impression of his kindness to her as a child, that she was persuaded to believe herself in love, and to consent to an elopement.”
Each time that a certain person who did me ill is mentioned, I find myself recalling my past with him in a level of detail which is not at all pleasant. The aforementioned individual, Mr. Wickham, deceived me most effectively, and I still chide myself for my naivety.
I was staying in Ramsgate, a seaside resort, with my guardian Ms. Younge. Mr. Wickham, who had prior disagreements with my brother, was there too, which I believed was by chance, although it is now clear it was no accident. His disputes with my brother and his presence in Ramsgate could hardly have been a coincidence.
He was endlessly charming, with cleverly chosen words to make me sure he held affection for me, and I had no reason to be wary of him. We used to walk by the sea each morning, sometimes as the sun began to rise, and he would lure me in with astounding eloquence. I see now that his words were merely a mask for his true intent, yet they served their purpose and I believed myself to be in love with him, and he with me. When he asked me to elope I was but fifteen, and, convinced of our affection, I acquiesced. Charmed by the beauty of Ramsgate and with all the passions of young love, I never even thought to question his words.
It was only because of my brother that I was saved from great misfortune and my family’s name avoided the stain of an elopement which surely would not have ended in marriage. I confessed the whole affair to him when he came to Ramsgate, and it is quite fortunate he came when he did, for had he arrived but a few days later Mr. Wickham and I would no longer have been there. He arrived on time, however, and wrote to Mr. Wickham, who left immediately.
I have endeavored to move on from the whole affair, yet the slightest allusion to him makes me remember my foolishness. Even now, I vividly recall the smell of salt by the early morning sea at Ramsgate, and the words of one who I innocently believed I loved.