Part 12 (2/2)

Write soon, dearest.

Your loving coz, Anne Mrs Charlotte Collins to Miss Elizabeth Bennet Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent, July 12 Dear Eliza, I have some news which I hope will please you as much as it pleases me. I am going to have a child! I have just written to Mama but I wanted to write to you by the same post so that you will hear it first from me. I fear my mama will be a little too vocal in her delight. I fear, too, that your mama will be similarly vocal in her lack of delight. But I hope you will be pleased for me. I know you thought my marriage ill-advised but last year at this time I was nothing but Charlotte Lucas, spinster, with no life to call my own. Now I have my own home to care for, my parish affairs to interest me and a child on the way. I am happy with my lot.

Your friend, Charlotte Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Mrs Charlotte Collins Longbourn, Hertfords.h.i.+re, July 18 Charlotte, of course I am delighted for you. Mama is less pleased and is even more vocal than you might imagine. Papa has retreated to his library and Jane and I now take regular refuge out of doors. Thank goodness for fine weather! Mary amuses herself by spouting words of wisdom, remarking on the blessing of an olive branch, and Kitty has written of it to Lydia. We were not allowed to see Lydia's reply. Kitty read it with many smothered giggles and furtive glances towards us, as though we were likely to steal it away from her, and when Papa asked her what it contained she said only that she would not betray a sister's confidence nor spoil Lydia's happiness. With this cryptic reply we had to be content, although I doubt that Lydia's letter contained much about your happy event, and suspect it contained a great deal about officers, red coats, private b.a.l.l.s, a.s.semblies and flirting.

Poor Kitty! It is very hard for her to read all about the exciting times Lydia is having when she is having so little excitement herself, apart from my aunt's card parties. I must confess, they are not so lively now that the officers have gone, but I am not sorry on the whole that they have left us.

My dear Jane is still quietly melancholy but does not complain. I am full of admiration for her fort.i.tude. Luckily, she will have the little Gardiners to play with soon, for my young cousins are to stay here at Longbourn whilst I travel to Derbys.h.i.+re with my uncle and aunt. The children's high spirits will lift Jane's own low mood, and Jane's steady sense and sweetness of temper will be exactly what they need as she teaches them, plays with them and loves them.

I have started a cap for the baby and hope to have finished a dozen by the time it arrives.

Lizzy Mr Darcy to Colonel Fitzwilliam Darcy House, London, July 20 Henry, it is done. I have encouraged Bingley to think of Jane Bennet once more. I told him something of my meeting with Miss Elizabeth at Rosings: that she had been staying with the Collinses and that I had spoken to her about her family. He asked hesitantly after her sisters and I told him that Miss Bennet had been out of spirits. I saw the workings of his mind flit across his face: that Jane was out of spirits because she missed him, and I saw hope rising within him. When he said he thought that he might return to Netherfield Park after his visit to Pemberley, I gave him my blessing.

It is enough that I have ruined my own chances of happiness; I will not ruin his as well.

I never before knew what a burden it was to be so admired. I have become so used to looking after everyone and everything since my father died-my sister, the tenants, the estate, the Pemberley staff, my friend-that I had forgotten that some of them were capable of taking care of themselves. And I have come to realise something else as well: that I do not always know what is best for everyone else. I wish I could say that I had come to this knowledge on my own, but it is Elizabeth who has shown it to me. I resented her for it at first, but now I thank her for it.

I will be taking Georgiana to Pemberley in August. If you have not returned to your regiment by then, I hope you will join us. We will be quite a party, and you will be well entertained. You will meet Caroline, Louisa and Charles there, and I have invited the rector of Kympton, Mr Haydock, too. I like him. He is intelligent and sensible and yet he is also lively and a favourite with his paris.h.i.+oners. I think he will like Georgiana and she him. Not that I am thinking of her marrying him, but it will do her good to have some more young men to mix with; she knows so very few of them at the moment and I want her to become accustomed to their ways before she has her formal come-out.

Darcy Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Miss Jane Bennet Derbys.h.i.+re, July 30 My dearest Jane, Our Derbys.h.i.+re adventure is filled with as much novelty and amus.e.m.e.nt as I had hoped; indeed, if not for your absence, it would be perfect. We have pa.s.sed through Oxford, stopping to see the university and then going on to visit the palace at Blenheim. As we travelled farther north, pa.s.sing through Birmingham and then on into Derbys.h.i.+re, the landscape began to change into something altogether wilder than anything I have so far seen. I never thought such hills existed in our country. The roads climbed constantly, so that we often left the carriage and walked in order to spare the horses until they reached the summit of the moors, which are truly splendid. I have never seen such grandeur of landscape. Standing on top of the moors it is possible to see for miles, and to believe oneself at the end of the world, for apart from a few sheep there is nothing to be seen in the remoter areas, save swathes of harsh gra.s.ses, large boulders and picturesque stone walls. We are too early to see the heather, but my aunt tells me it covers the moors with a purple cloak in the late summer and I hope to come back again one day and see it.

We have been blessed with fine weather and we walk each day, sometimes by the side of boulder-strewn rivers and sometimes through woodland, as well as visiting any houses of note along the way. My aunt is eager to see Chatsworth, and I am just as eager to visit it.

One place I am not so eager to visit is Lambton. Although I have some curiosity to see my aunt's old neighbourhood, it is so close to Pemberley that I am apprehensive about it, for Pemberley is exactly the kind of great house my aunt likes to visit. I have thought of taking her into my confidence, but it would lead to so many questions that I cannot bring myself to do it. If she insists on seeing Pemberley, therefore, I intend to make enquiries as to whether or not the family is at home, and if they are, I think I will plead a headache and remain at the inn.

How are my cousins going on? Are they plaguing you? Not too much, I hope. I dare not ask if Kitty and Mary are plaguing you, let alone our mother, as I fear I know the answer to that already.

I must go. My aunt is ready to go out. We will be at Lambton by the time a reply is able to reach us, so write to me at the inn there; we plan to reach it by August fourth.

Your loving sister, Lizzy

AUGUST.

Miss Lydia Bennet to Miss Kitty Bennet Brighton, August 1 Lord! Kitty! What a lark. You will never guess and you must not tell, not until it is done and I can sign my name Lydia Wickham! Is it not a good joke? My dear Wickham and I are eloping. The next time I write to you I will be Mrs Wickham! You must come and stay with us, we will be returning to Brighton or perhaps London, just as soon as we get back from Gretna Green. Is it not romantic? We will be married in Scotland, over the anvil. I will be married at sixteen! And my sisters not yet married, and all of them older than me. I will get a husband for you as soon as I return, never fear. There are officers aplenty in Brighton and we must go back there eventually, for Wickham's regiment is there. You might marry Denny or Pratt or Colonel Fitzwilliam, though he is not very handsome, but they cannot all be as handsome as my Wickham. Lord! What a lark! I thought I would die laughing when Wickham said we could run away together! How surprised Harriet will be. They will all be astonished. It will be the talk of Brighton and I dare say I will be the toast of the officers. Only tell no one of it. You know how Lizzy and Jane tried to stop me going to Brighton in the first place, they will only try to spoil my fun if they know. Mama would not do anything to spoil it, but she would tell everyone and I want to tell them myself, you know.

Your soon-to-be-married sister, Lydia Mr Wickham to Mrs Younge Brighton, August 2 Belle, I am in a fix. I thought I would have longer credit here but the shopkeepers in Brighton are used to being swindled and they have started demanding payment. I found a line of creditors at my door this evening and had to climb out of the window. Lydia Bennet saw me but thought it was all a lark. When I said I would have to leave Brighton, she said we should elope. You know me, Belle, I cannot say no to a woman, and the upshot is that I am on the point of escaping to London. I will need somewhere to stay until things blow over. Do you still have your boarding house? I hope so, for I have nowhere else to go. I will be there sometime tomorrow.

Hoping this letter reaches you before I do, George Miss Lydia Bennet to Mrs Harriet Forster Brighton, August 2 My dear Harriet, You will laugh when you know where I am gone, and I cannot help laughing myself at your surprise tomorrow morning, as soon as I am missed. I am going to Gretna Green, and if you cannot guess with who, I shall think you a simpleton, for there is but one man in the world I love, and he is an angel. I should never be happy without him, so think it no harm to be off. You need not send them word at Longbourn of my going, if you do not like it, for it will make the surprise the greater, when I write to them, and sign my name Lydia Wickham. What a good joke it will be! I can hardly write for laughing. Pray make my excuses to Pratt for not keeping my engagement, and dancing with him tonight. Tell him I hope he will excuse me when he knows all, and tell him I will dance with him at the next ball we meet, with great pleasure. I shall send for my clothes when I get to Longbourn; but I wish you would tell Sally to mend a great slit in my worked muslin gown before they are packed up. Good-bye. Give my love to Colonel Forster. I hope you will drink to our good journey.

Your affectionate friend, Lydia Bennet Miss Jane Bennet to Miss Elizabeth Bennet Longbourn, Hertfords.h.i.+re, August 3 Dearest Lizzy, I knew you would enjoy yourself with my aunt and uncle and I am glad you are now having your share of the amus.e.m.e.nts. I would have liked to have you with me in London earlier in the year, but it would have been too cruel to deprive our father of both of us at once. He misses you sorely, and I believe he might even write to you in a few days' time. In the meantime, you will want to know what we have been doing in Hertfords.h.i.+re. We had a card party at my aunt Philips's house the night before last and then yesterday we went to dinner with the Lucases. Lady Lucas could talk of nothing but Charlotte's impending happy event and Mama could not help being disagreeable. I have started a bonnet for Charlotte's baby. I could not decide whether to make it blue or pink and so I have settled on yellow.

My cousins keep me busy. In the morning I help them with their reading and in the afternoons we spend most of our time out of doors. Mary, too, helps with their education, although I do not think that Fordyce's Sermons are of much use to the little ones, since they cannot understand one word in ten. Kitty plays with them sometimes but more often she is shut up in her room, writing to Lydia or reading letters from her. I must say that Lydia has surprised me. I did not think she would be such a regular correspondent. She still sends no more than a few short notes to Mama and Papa, but her letters to Kitty arrive with increasing frequency and Kitty laughs and giggles as she reads them. I am glad she is happy again.

I can write no more at present, my cousins need me, but I will finish my letter tomorrow. For now, adieu.

August 4 Since writing the above, dearest Lizzy, something has occurred of a most unexpected and serious nature; but I am afraid of alarming you-be a.s.sured that we are all well. What I have to say relates to poor Lydia. An express came at twelve last night, just as we were all gone to bed, from Colonel Forster, to inform us that she was gone off to Scotland with one of his officers; to own the truth, with Wickham! Imagine our surprise. To Kitty, however, it does not seem so wholly unexpected. I am very, very sorry. So imprudent a match on both sides! But I am willing to hope the best, and that his character has been misunderstood. Thoughtless and indiscreet I can easily believe him, but this step (and let us rejoice over it) marks nothing bad at heart. His choice is disinterested at least, for he must know my father can give her nothing. Our poor mother is sadly grieved. My father bears it better. How thankful am I that we never let them know what has been said against him! We must forget it ourselves. They were off Sat.u.r.day night about twelve, as is conjectured, but were not missed till yesterday morning at eight. The express was sent off directly. My dear Lizzy, they must have pa.s.sed within ten miles of us. Colonel Forster gives us reason to expect him here soon. Lydia left a few lines for his wife, informing her of their intention. I must conclude, for I cannot be long from my poor mother. I am afraid you will not be able to make it out, but I hardly know what I have written.

Jane Miss Mary Bennet to Miss Lucy Sotherton Longbourn, Hertfords.h.i.+re, August 4 Most n.o.ble Friend, My sister Lydia is ruined. I am not surprised. If ever a girl was born to be ruined, it is Lydia. She has run away with an officer. Mama has spent the day bewailing her poor baby's fate, though as I remarked to Mama, Lydia is not in point of fact a baby, but a young lady of sixteen summers. Mama ignored me, saying that if she had only had her way we would all have gone to Brighton. When I said that if she had carried the day, she might now have four daughters who had run away with officers instead of only one (since I would never have done anything so foolish), she told me that she wished I would run away and then I would not be able to plague her with my moralising. Poor Mama! She would never be accepted into the bluestockings, for she has far too many nerves.

My sister Jane has spent the morning writing to Elizabeth, whilst I have spent my time more profitably by searching for suitable extracts to sustain my family in their hour of need.

Your sister in moral rect.i.tude, Mary Miss Jane Bennet to Miss Elizabeth Bennet Longbourn, Hertfords.h.i.+re, August 5 By this time, my dearest sister, you have received my hurried letter; I wish this may be more intelligible, but though not confined for time, my head is so bewildered that I cannot answer for being coherent. Dearest Lizzy, I hardly know what I would write, but I have bad news for you, and it cannot be delayed. Imprudent as a marriage between Mr Wickham and our poor Lydia would be, we are now anxious to be a.s.sured it has taken place, for there is but too much reason to fear they are not gone to Scotland. Colonel Forster came yesterday, having left Brighton the day before, not many hours after the express. Though Lydia's short letter to Mrs Forster gave them to understand that they were going to Gretna Green, something was dropped by Denny expressing his belief that Wickham never intended to go there, or to marry Lydia at all, which was repeated to Colonel Forster, who, instantly taking the alarm, set off from Brighton, intending to trace their route. He did trace them easily to Clapham, but no farther; for on entering that place they removed into a hackney coach, and dismissed the chaise that brought them from Epsom. All that is known after this is that they were seen to continue the London road. I know not what to think. After making every possible enquiry on that side of London, Colonel Forster came on into Hertfords.h.i.+re, anxiously renewing them at all the turnpikes, and at the inns in Barnet and Hatfield, but without any success-no such people had been seen to pa.s.s through. With the kindest concern he came on to Longbourn, and broke his apprehensions to us in a manner most creditable to his heart. I am sincerely grieved for him and Mrs Forster, but no one can throw any blame on them. Our distress, my dear Lizzy, is very great. My father and mother believe the worst, but I cannot think so ill of him. Many circ.u.mstances might make it more eligible for them to be married privately in town than to pursue their first plan; and even if he could form such a design against a young woman of Lydia's connections, which is not likely, can I suppose her so lost to everything? Impossible! I grieve to find, however, that Colonel Forster is not disposed to depend upon their marriage; he shook his head when I expressed my hopes, and said he feared Wickham was not a man to be trusted. My poor mother is really ill, and keeps her room. Could she exert herself, it would be better; but this is not to be expected. And as to my father, I never in my life saw him so affected. Poor Kitty has incurred their anger for having concealed the attachment; but as it was a matter of confidence, one cannot wonder.

I am truly glad, dearest Lizzy, that you have been spared something of these distressing scenes; but now, as the first shock is over, shall I own that I long for your return? I am not so selfish, however, as to press for it, if inconvenient. Adieu!

I take up my pen again to do what I have just told you I would not; but circ.u.mstances are such that I cannot help earnestly begging you all to come here as soon as possible. I know my dear uncle and aunt so well that I am not afraid of requesting it, though I have still something more to ask of the former. My father is going to London with Colonel Forster instantly, to try to discover her. What he means to do I am sure I know not; but his excessive distress will not allow him to pursue any measure in the best and safest way, and Colonel Forster is obliged to be at Brighton again tomorrow evening. In such an exigence my uncle's advice and a.s.sistance would be everything in the world; he will immediately comprehend what I must feel, and I rely upon his goodness.

Jane Mr Darcy to Colonel Fitzwilliam Carriage, on the way to London, August 8 Something terrible has happened. Wickham! How I curse his name! Oh, do not fear, it is not Georgiana he has run away with this time, but another young woman. If you have not yet returned to your regiment, meet me in London at my club. If you cannot meet me, pray let me know Mrs Younge's address as soon as possible; I know you discovered it last year and I have urgent need of it.

But I must explain. I must go back, in fact, to make you understand my interest in the matter, nay my determination to put everything right.

I returned to Pemberley a few days ago and having occasion to ride on ahead of the rest of the party in order to attend to some business with my steward, I turned the corner of the stables to find myself looking into the eyes of Elizabeth Bennet! Never had they looked more beautiful, and never had I been more tempted to take her in my arms and kiss her, but I could do nothing except stand and stare. I thought for a moment it must be a dream, a hallucination, for the day was very hot, but when she blushed I knew it was not a dream. Recovering myself, I advanced and spoke to her, if not composedly, at least civilly. As I spoke I could not stop my eyes from roving over her, taking in every small detail of her face and hair. From the depth and beauty of her eyes to the remaining blush on her cheek, I was drinking her in.

She turned away, embarra.s.sed, but she turned towards me again when I spoke to her. I know not what I said; something about the weather, her journey, my surprise at seeing her, the date on which she left Longbourn, her stay in Derbys.h.i.+re and the health of her family; in short, nothing, but simply words to hold her so that I would have more time to look at her and love her and wonder how I ever thought I would be able to conquer my feelings for her. And all the while she was as uncomfortable as I was, and yet she did not turn away; not after the first time, which, I am convinced, was only because of embarra.s.sment.

And when I could think of nothing further to say, I still remained rooted to the spot, unable to leave, unwilling to relinquish one second of her company, glad to be with her, wanting to be near her; wanting to look at her, and to hear the sound of her breathing and to feel my fingers s.h.i.+ver with the desire to reach out and touch her.

I still want her. I cannot disguise it from myself. No one else will ever do. Only Elizabeth.

I knew it as I stood there, unable to leave, whilst the gardener looked at me curiously and her aunt and uncle watched me from a distance and I knew I must depart, but could not.

At last I tore myself away and went indoors, making sure that the house was ready to receive my guests, as had been my original plan. But I could not remain long indoors. I wanted to be near her, and to show her that her reprovals had been attended to; that I was no longer insufferable or disdainful of the feelings of others; that I had changed.

And so I left the house. I found her at last as she walked by the river. She was at that part of the grounds where the path is open and I saw her long before I reached her. I could tell she saw me, too. The walk seemed endless. A turning in the path hid her from view and then I was suddenly in front of her. Mindful of her previous words about my incivility, I set out to please and to charm her. She seemed to sense it and to want to imitate my politeness. She remarked on the beauty of the place, then blushed and fell silent, as if remembering that, had she accepted my proposal, it could have been hers. Any other woman would have made it hers, even if she despised me. But not Elizabeth. Only love will do for her. And I have known, deep down, for many years, that only love will do for me.

Our conversation faltered and I asked if she would do me the honour of introducing me to her friends. Something of her mischievousness returned, for she smiled with a gleam in her eye as she introduced them as her aunt and uncle. I was surprised; I knew they lived in Cheapside and had therefore not expected them to be so fas.h.i.+onable. To please her, and to show her I was not the rude, arrogant and unfeeling man she thought me, I walked with them, all the time wondering how I could make sure I saw her again. Her party were on a travelling holiday and I did not want them to leave Derbys.h.i.+re, and so I hit upon the happy notion of inviting her uncle to fish at Pemberley.

And so we continued, the two ladies in front and the two gentlemen behind. I was just wondering how I could alter things when luck played into my hands. Her aunt became tired and leant on her husband's arm, leaving me free to walk with Elizabeth. There was a silence, but I was not anxious. I was content to catch her scent and to watch the play of colour on her cheek. But she was not easy and soon made it clear that she had been told the family were away from home, and that she would not have taken the liberty of visiting Pemberley otherwise.

I blessed my good fortune. A day later and I would have been in residence, in which case she would not have come; a day earlier and I would have been in London and missed her. I acknowledged that I had arrived earlier than expected and told her that Bingley and his sisters would be joining me.

It was not a happy thought. She became withdrawn and I could tell that her thoughts had returned to her sister and my interference in the matter of Bingley's attentions. I sought to divert her and found a happy topic in my own sister, asking if I might introduce Georgiana to her during her stay at Lambton. She was surprised, but agreed, and I was content. I would very much like the two of them to come to know each other.

We walked on in silence, each deep in thought. My mind was wondering how I could have stayed away from her so long and wondering how soon I could offer her my hand again. Her mind I did not know, but I hoped it was not entirely set against me.

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