Chapter 43

19th February, 1812

Pemberley

Dear Elizabeth,

I wish to ask your advice about marriage.

As you know, I was engaged to be married to my Cousin Darcy and called a halt to the proceedings during the ceremony itself. Looking back, I am amazed at my courage, but it was born out of desperation.

Darcy himself is a wonderful man, though he and I do not suit one another particularly well. We are both too quiet, which I believe would make a poor match. And to be truly honest, my greatest worry had to do with childbearing. I know that is hardly the sort of topic to discuss with a fellow maiden, but I simply cannot discuss this with either of my Darcy cousins, and my mother would be no help at all since she had a child without difficulty, so of course she would say that I will as well!

She has always been strong and robust, and I have not. Indeed, for years my health was so precarious that I strongly believed I would pass on before I turned thirty.

These last months have very much opened my eyes! Much of my poor health apparently stemmed from being wrapped up in blankets at Rosings under the less than helpful care of my mother and her favorite physician, Mr. Bamber. Now I do not ascribe either of them with deliberate cruelty. I did come down with a wearisome succession of illnesses through my life and was always quite sick when I did fall ill.

But ever since I left London for Netherfield Park, and from there onto Pemberley, I have felt much better. I exercise regularly, avoid laudanum and excessive alcohol, and yes, I feel as if I could safely marry and bear a child now.

I have met a man whom I like very much and who likes me, though we have only known one another a few weeks. His name is Mr. Alexander Sinclair, and he holds the Kympton living near Pemberley. My Cousin Darcy is his patron. He is some five and thirty years of age, and Darcy thinks a great deal of him. He is kind, intelligent, and cares deeply for the families under his purview.

We have spoken honestly of a possible future together. He is the second of six brothers and has three young sisters as well, and his mother is a widow. He sends as much of his income home as he can.

It is not a love match, though I already hold him in affection. My reasoning for marrying soon is that if I am wed, Rosings would become mine. The estate is suffering under the direction of my mother; she is foolish in refusing to encourage the latest farming practices. Worse than that, she seems to have no real compassion for our tenant families.

My mother has long been a most active magistrate in her own parish, the minutest concerns of which used to be carried to her by Mr. Collins; and whenever any of the cottagers are disposed to be quarrelsome, discontented, or too poor, she sallies forth into the village to settle their differences, silence their complaints, and scold them into harmony and plenty.

She is a tiresome creature, my mother. I suppose at some level I do love her, but I have no desire to live with her and will have her sent to the Dower House if I return to Kent.

Of course, if I take control of Rosings and that proves to be the reason for my poor health, well, that would be most unfortunate!

In any case, I wish for your opinion. You strike me as a sensible, intelligent woman, and I distrust my own thoughts and reasoning.

Do you think that I should marry a man based on the practical desire to take control of my estate? If I wait a little more than four years, it will come to me as a single woman.

How important do you believe love is in marriage? I know that you are not wed, but two of your sisters are; thus, you have more experience than I do in this matter.

Given how sick I used to be, is it idiotic to consider marriage and childbearing?

Sincerely,

Anne de Bourgh

/

25 th February, 1812

Longbourn

Dear Mr. Darcy,

I apologize for the rather long delay in responding to your last letter. My sister Mary fell ill with influenza two weeks ago and spread it to my youngest sister, my mother, and to several servants. They are all on the mend now, but it was a busy time for those of us who remained healthy.

One encouraging aspect of the sickness was that is showed my new brother Collins in a positive light. He is not a particularly intelligent man, nor is he sensible, but he genuinely cares for Mary. He was eager to do whatever he could to help her, to succor her, to assist her in any way possible. It was really quite beautiful.

Your last letter was very reassuring. As you know, my parents' marriage was not a happy one. Even in the early days, my father was prone to tease and insult my mother, and after his serious riding accident, his tongue grew only more bitter and vengeful and spread to include my sisters and me as well. Mary was too plain, and I was a fool pretending to be intelligent, and Jane was too placid, and the younger girls were too silly…

It made Longbourn a difficult place much of the time. My mother, to her very great credit, did her best to shield us from our father's cruelty, as did Mrs. Montgomery, but we still walked on eggs when Mr. Bennet was in more pain than usual, or was more drunk than usual, or both. It was not all bad, of course; I adore my siblings and mother, and the school room in the attic was safe from my father, who never climbed those stairs, and Longbourn itself, the land and trails, were a constant comfort. I spent many an hour walking the paths of our estate after a challenging interaction with my father and always returned home feeling more at peace.

I have shared all this because I would far rather be unwed for the rest of my days than enter into a marriage like my parents'.

I am confident that you are not that sort of man. I have seen and heard of your care for your sister, your cousins, and your tenants, and your friend, Charles Bingley.

I think it is normal and reasonable for a woman to wish her husband to love her. I do desire that, but I also need respect from my husband. I want to be considered his equal partner in the marriage, not in terms of sheer physical strength, but intellectually, and in the sight of God.

I look forward eagerly to your reply.

Sincerely,

Elizabeth Bennet

/

27 th February, 1812

Longbourn

Dear Anne,

We had influenza spread throughout the house, and that delayed my ability to write back. Everyone is essentially well again, except for my mother, who continues to have a mild cough. I never fell ill, but I was busy helping nurse my mother and two sisters who contracted the disease. By God's grace, my sister Kitty, who is delicate, was at Netherfield staying with the Bingleys when Lydia first sickened, and she stayed away and remained healthy.

You asked some excellent and thought-provoking questions in your last letter.

I am overjoyed that your health has improved so much in these past months. I am no physician, of course, but I am confident that I am a great deal healthier for living an active life.

My sister Mary wedded our cousin, Mr. Collins, for largely pragmatic reasons. She is a sensible creature, my sister, and not terribly romantic. She was unhappy at Longbourn thanks to our father's unpleasantness, but she also has a tremendous love and concern for Longbourn and her tenants. She made the decision to marry our cousin, who is, to his credit, a kind and compassionate man, so that in addition to being a wife and mother, she could, when our father passed on, be mistress of Longbourn.

Obviously our father died far sooner than any of us expected. Now Mary is mistress of Longbourn and will be able to manage the household and the tenantry to her satisfaction. Longbourn is blessed to have her! This is, of course, very much like your situation with Rosings. You know that Lady Catherine is doing a poor job of overseeing the estate, and you care enough for the people to wish to assist them by taking control yourself.

My sister Jane and I are both far more romantic and made the decision long ago to marry only for genuine affection. Given that there is very little family money, we knew that we might remain unmarried. Then Jane met Charles Bingley, they fell in love quickly, and are obviously happy in their marriage. I am, as you know, now in an unofficial and unusual courtship with your cousin, Mr. Darcy.

I could have never married Mr. Collins, but I understand Mary's reasoning very well. Every individual in this world has a slightly different temperament.

Can you be happy in a marriage of convenience, so long as your husband is a kind and honorable gentleman?

I could not be, as I desire more, but many a lady engages in such a marriage with open eyes and a cheerful heart.

As for your health, only you know how you feel; having said that, I am aware of somewhat fragile ladies who have birthed children with perfect ease. Given that you suspect your way of living at Rosings contributed to your weakness, I think it likely that you would do well enough. But again, you and you alone can make that decision.

God bless you,

Elizabeth Bennet

/

10 th March, 1812

Pemberley

Miss Bennet,

It grieved me to read of your difficult life due to your father's cruel behavior. My instinctual reaction is to say that of course I would never behave in such a way.

As a child I was taught what wasright by my parents and given good principles. More than that, I had the very great advantage of observing a marriage of true affection between my parents. I am well aware that many members of the ton wed based entirely on connections and wealth. While my parents did doubtless consider such factors, they genuinely loved and respected one another.

Having said all that, I have forced myself to contemplate the question at hand; whether, after a great injury, while in much pain, I would lash at out at my loved ones.

I have come to the conclusion that I would not. On those rare occasions in my life when I have injured myself, when I have been in pain, my natural tendency is to retreat to my room and manage my discomfort with the assistance of my faithful valet. He has served me for a decade now, and I appreciate him as much as, I hope, he appreciates me.

I am not certain whether retreat is the best way of handling such situations, but it always seemed sensible to me. My mother, while loving and kind, suffered from ill health for many years, which worsened after the birth of my sister. My father, a most diligent landlord of Pemberley, spent most of his time managing the estate.

I can imagine, and long for, the tender care of a loving wife in such circumstances, but I cannot imagine turning my vitriol on my loved ones.

I am relieved to hear that you did not fall ill from influenza, and that the other members of the family are well on their way to full health.

God bless you,

Fitzwilliam Darcy

/

15 th April, 1812

London

Darcy,

We plan to make our way journey travel to Pemberley in the middle of next month.

We are confident now that my dear Jane is with child, as is her sister Mary Collins. We feel very blessed.

At your direction suggestion, we are making plans to have the roofs of two of the tenant cottages at Netherfield replaced in the next months, when it is hotter warmer.

Yes, we are happy.

Bingley

/

18th April, 1812

Longbourn

Dear Jane,

I hope you are enjoying your time in London! Is the Clarendon Hotel as wonderful as everyone says it is? Are the dinners remarkable?

I am so excited about our upcoming trip to Pemberley! It has been a peculiar sort of courtship, but courtship it is, and I think Mr. Darcy and I are the better for it. You and Charles had the marvelous opportunity of talking to one another at length, and in person, and realized quickly that you love one another.

I am a more fiery and, yes, fractious woman, compared to you at any rate. I know you are protesting aloud even as you read these words, but it is true! I would not be happy with a man exactly like Charles, and he would not be happy with me.

But Mr. Darcy! His looks and his deep voice are tantalizing to me, and I think, if we had spent much time in company, I would have fallen in love with him based on his person and his intelligence.

And that would have been good, but I think, no, I am certain, that this strange continuance of our relationship, carried out through letters, has allowed us both to analyze one another without the distraction of physical desire.

Not that physical desire is bad, but it is simpler, in a way, to be able to focus on other aspects.

I will say no more, dear married sister of mine!

Regarding the dresses you are having made up in London – you should definitely have at least one gown made up in dark blue. Your eyes are a dark blue, and you will look marvelous.

It was kind of you to invite me with you to London on a shopping spree, but I am glad I stayed here. Mamma will be alone with Mary and William after we leave for Pemberley, and I wish to spend extra hours with her now. I know she will do well here; Mary is competent and kindly, and William is a decent man, but I will miss her very much.

It will be, of course, worth it for the very great privilege of spending time at Pemberley. Based on our latest letters, I think – oh Jane! To be Mrs. Darcy!

Kitty and Lydia are now aware that Mr. Darcy and I are corresponding, but have been admirably silent on the matter. They know, as I do, that if William learned of the letters, he would send an express to Lady Catherine informing her that Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth Bennet are on the cusp of an engagement. She is a ridiculous person, Lady Catherine, but I do not care for another visit from her.

I have not told Mary. She is capable of keeping her own counsel, but I do not wish for her to be forced to keep something from her husband that he feels he has the right to know.

Mamma is aware, of course, and is overjoyed. It is reassuring to me that she approves of Mr. Darcy as much as she does Charles.

I wish to take a walk before dinner, my dear, and thus will end this. I will see you in a week, and then a fortnight later, we will be off to Pemberley!

With much love,

Elizabeth

/

20th April, 1812

Longbourn

Mr. Darcy,

Your recent letter was extremely encouraging. I appreciate that you really thought about what would happen if you were injured. So many gentlemen would indeed provide verbose reassurance without analyzing their own characters.

It inspired me to think about what I would do if I were in pain and lost my ability to walk with ease, and my looks. It was a surprisingly difficult task, and it gave me new sympathy for my father.

I am certain, however, that I would not behave as he did. I love those around me too much to treat others with such cruelty. But he did lose a great deal when he fell from that horse, and it obviously changed his life for the worse in a multitude of ways.

I understand from Charles and Jane that you have invited a large party of Bennets and Bingleys to Pemberley next month, and I intend to be a member of that party. It is kind of you to invite us all, and we are most grateful. My sisters and I will be out of mourning, and my dear mother will be in half mourning. Longbourn is a peculiar place nowadays, with Father gone and my Cousin Collins and sister Mary master and mistress of the estate. Not that it is worse, mind you, than when our father ruled. Indeed, for us as well as the tenants, I believe it is undoubtedly better!

However, we all look forward to being away from Hertfordshire for a season.

As for you and me, I expect that we will almost certainly suit as man and wife, but we ought not to make any promises. After all, one of us may look upon the other for the first time in six months and think, ‘oh dear, my memories and understanding were entirely in error.'

If so, if you have any doubts at all, I beg you not to ask for my hand in marriage. I have no desire at all for an unwilling husband.

God's blessings,

Elizabeth Bennet

/

Matlock House

London

24th April, 1812

Darcy,

Would you believe that sniveling wretch Wickham ran away from Marshalsea a fortnight go? The governor of the prison sent me a message of his escape, and fortunately I was at Matlock House to receive the note. I gathered up a few servants, searched for him, and found him. He was hiding with that Younge woman, which was no great surprise. He has not two pennies to rub together, and Mrs. Younge has a boarding house.

In any case, given that he ran away from Marshalsea and might well do it again, I am having him shipped off to Australia in a convict ship in the next week or two. The journey is dangerous, and he may not even survive the trip. If he does survive, he will no longer be the handsome scallywag who is able to trick ladies and gentlemen into parting with their fortunes.

I suspect that you will feel vaguely guilty about the matter. You should not. Wickham chose his own path. Moreover, I am the one who has arranged to have him expelled permanently from Britain's shores.

God bless,

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam

/

28th April, 1812

Pemberley

Dear Miss Bennet,

I am counting the days until you arrive with your family.

Myaffections and wishes are unchanged, but given your circumstances, I hope you will not feel obligated to me in any way. I wish for a successful marriage as well, and while I think we would be happy together, you must make that decision on your own.

Until we see one another again.

Affectionately,

Fitzwilliam Darcy