Chapter 16

T he next day, Elizabeth joined Georgiana at the breakfast table. Georgiana, now looking much restored, remarked that she felt considerably better than she had the previous day. Noting the pallor that had overtaken her the day before, Elizabeth thought it best to refrain from inquiring further into the matter, lest she inadvertently cause distress. Mr. Darcy had yet to return, but Georgiana reassured Elizabeth that he was undoubtedly well, explaining that he often spent several days away when matters concerning the estate or his attorney required his attention.

"However," Georgiana added with a gentle smile, "if he were not to return by this evening, he would certainly send word. My brother is not one to leave us without news for more than two days."

As their conversation continued over the meal, Mrs. Reynolds appeared in the doorway, a letter in hand.

"A letter has arrived for you, madam." Mrs. Reynolds said with a courteous smile.

"Perhaps it is from Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth whispered, feeling a surprising flutter in her heart.

"It is not from the master, Madam," Mrs. Reynolds replied, with a small, reassuring smile. "I believe it is from Meryton."

Meryton?

Elizabeth accepted the letter with a grateful nod, recognizing the familiar handwriting of her beloved sister Jane at the back. She allowed herself smile wholeheartedly as she carefully broke the seal and unfolded the letter, her heart already buoyed by the thought of hearing from home.

My Dearest Lizzy, the letter began.

I pray this letter meets you well and in good spirits. I chose to write two days after your departure from Meryton, having been informed that it may take two to three days for any letter to reach Derbyshire. How are you faring, dear sister? How is married life treating you? I cannot help but wonder if you have found it in your heart to make peace with Mr. Darcy. I know how difficult the circumstances must be, and I know it is quite early, but I urge you, for your own sake, to do so. It will make your new role as Mrs. Darcy far easier, and perhaps even more pleasant than you expect.

In a surprising turn of events, I must tell you that Mr. Collins has proposed to Charlotte Lucas! He did so this morning. I was quite astonished when I heard the news, and even more so when he announced that he was travelling to Rosings Park to inform his esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. What a change of fortune for our dear friend Charlotte, though I confess I am curious to see how she will manage Mr. Collins's particularities.

As for myself, I have visited Netherfield once, at the kind invitation of Mr. Bingley for dinner. His sisters were most civil to me, which I found rather unexpected but welcome. I must confess, Lizzy, that I am quite fond of Mr. Bingley, and I do believe he holds me in some regard as well. However, he has said nothing that might suggest a proposal, and I do not wish to be a foolish girl, building castles in the air. Still, I cannot help but hope.

Kitty and Lydia send their greetings, as do our dear father and mother. Kitty is as lively as ever, and Lydia, as you can imagine, is already planning what she will wear when next she sees you.

Tell me, Lizzy, are you enjoying Pemberley? It must be a grand place, and I trust you are finding some comfort there. I thank you once again for the sacrifice you have made, a sacrifice that I know was not light. I do hope you will invite me to visit Pemberley soon, perhaps when next I visit the Gardiners before summer next year.

Until then, take care of yourself, dear sister. I shall await your next letter with eager anticipation.

Yours ever,

Jane

Elizabeth giggled as she read the closing lines of Jane's letter. Aside from her interaction with Georgiana, Jane's kind words were the most enjoyable she had heard since she left Meryton. Yet, as the letter came to an end, Elizabeth felt a pang of guilt. How remiss she had been! It had been two days since her arrival at Pemberley, and not once had she thought to write to her family. The sense of duty that had so often guided her actions stirred within her, urging her to correct this oversight.

Setting the letter aside, Elizabeth resolved that she would write to her family as soon as breakfast was concluded. The thought of Jane awaiting her reply with eager anticipation spurred her on, and she could not bear the idea of disappointing her dear sister.

But as Elizabeth folded Jane's letter, another thought lingered at the edge of her mind. How was it that, despite the upheaval in her life, she had found a certain solace in these quiet moments at Pemberley? The beauty of the estate, the kindness of Mrs. Reynolds, and even the prospect of Georgiana's company —these were all small comforts in what had otherwise been a tumultuous period.

And yet, beneath these comforts, there lay a deeper troubling, one that Elizabeth found difficult to dispel. Jane's letter had served as a reminder of the complexities now entwined with her life, the weight of the title "Mrs. Darcy," and the manifold expectations it carried. She had made a sacrifice, as Jane had so gently expressed, but was it one she could truly endure? The prospect of reconciling with Mr. Darcy, of making peace with him as Jane had so sensibly advised, seemed both necessary and formidable, though it aligned with the resolution she had already formed in her mind.

"Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds," Elizabeth said.

"Is there anything else you require, madam?" Mrs. Reynolds asked.

Elizabeth shook her head, offering a polite smile. "No, nothing more at the moment. I shall retire to write a letter of my own."

"Very well, madam. Should you need anything, please do not hesitate to call for me."

With that, Mrs. Reynolds curtsied and withdrew, leaving Elizabeth and Georgiana to resume their sisterly conversation. Georgiana did not inquire about the details of the letter, and Elizabeth did not offer any gossip about it either.