15

21 February, 1804

Gracechurch Street, Cheapside, London

Dearest Kitty,

You may consider this my hearty consent to visit you. I apologise for not writing sooner. I wrote first to Papa about the journey, and by the time I received his reply, I had taken ill for a few days. Do not be alarmed, for I am perfectly well now. I went out walking in Green Park a week ago, determined to be self-indulgently morose, on a day so cold that it ought not to have been attempted. It began to snow heavily, and I came back chilled to the bone. Aunt insisted I spend a few days abed, but I am recovered entirely.

And so I can inform you that I shall arrive in a fortnight. Papa wishes to escape the incessant wedding preparations, and will journey to London before collecting me and taking me to Kent. I believe he will stay for a few weeks at the Parsonage, if you have the space for us both.

Tonight I am to attend another ball with Aunt Madeline, though I shall not have Olly with me to cheer me if I am not as popular as I was on the Twelfth Night. Good or bad, you must wait to hear of it until I see you, and I am thankful it shall be soon.

And now I must begin my toilette, for there is another new gown – ivory muslin with crimson beading in at the sleeves, hem, and bodice – awaiting me once I have adorned my hair with rose pins amidst elaborate curls.

Your soon-to-be-elegant sister,

Lizzy

***

5 March, 1804

Rosings Park, Kent

Dear Charles,

Forgive me for not congratulating you sooner. I wish you every happiness in marriage, though I fear I must express a modicum of doubt in your choice of a bride. Though I cannot deny Miss Bennet appears to be attached to you and eager to please you, I do not believe she is to be trusted.

Though I have no evidence to support my belief, I have my own experience in dealing with the maneuverings of the ton, as well as my own good sense and sound judgment, which you have often claimed to envy me.

During Miss Bennet’s stay at Netherfield, I began to suspect that her illness was not as serious as it was made to be; if it actually existed. Your step-sister’s behaviour toward her changed drastically, from distaste and distrust, to almost fanatical approval. Your fiancée took every opportunity to reciprocate in kind, and gave the impression of performing to my brother in speaking so warmly of her attentive hostess.

Even Miss Elizabeth shared my belief that her sister and yours had conspired together to display one another to advantage in the estimation of the very gentlemen to whom one is now wed and the other betrothed. She thought it odd that she had come to nurse her sister, but Miss Bennet shunned her company in favour of her new friend. Their collusion in such matters was a paltry art, though I fear it is not the worst of their treachery.

You may recall that there was a change made in the guest room assignments – Marcus was asked to switch rooms with Miss Bennet, and the very same woman who made this arrangement subsequently forgot it that very evening, or so she claimed when she was discovered with my brother, by none other than the lady who ought to have been abed with illness. I apologise if my perception of this event as a calculated design causes you any dismay, but I must

Darcy stilled his pen, read over his letter, and gaze a heavy sigh before casting it into the fire. He would not do this horrible thing to Bingley; he could not bear his friend to feel one iota of his own heartache. He placed another sheet of paper before himself and began again.

5 March, 1804

Rosings Park, Kent

Dear Charles,

My heartiest congratulations on your betrothal. I believe you shall find every happiness with Miss Bennet, who appears devoted to you and your step-sister. I ought to have written to you sooner, but trust you will understand the myriad matters that have delayed the leisure of letters.

It is because of my mourning as well as the seemingly endless tasks to be undertaken at Rosings that I must decline standing up with you or attending the joyous occasion. You might consider asking her cousin Collins, who is growing daily in sense and brevity alike. I believe it would be a right thing to acknowledge your new kinsman, as there is no Bennet brother for you to ask, and should you remain at Netherfield he will someday be your neighbour.

I shall write again soon; at present I am occupied with my mother and niece, who have come to Kent to placate Lady Catherine and allow my brother and his bride some time alone at Pemberley, since a honeymoon was not possible.

Again, I wish you joy – you deserve nothing less. And should the wedding preparations leave you wishing some reprieve, I might advise your asking Mr. Collins to stand up with you in person rather than writing to him. I cannot presently invite you to Rosings, but it would lift my spirits to see you nonetheless.

Yours I have advised him to ask Mr. Collins to stand up with him when he weds Miss Bennet next month. Perhaps he could be persuaded to accompany you back to Pemberley. If anyone can lighten Marcus up, it is Bingley. And then you could travel back as far as Meryton with him, and I could collect you there and bring you the rest of the way. ‘Tis but fifty miles of good road.”

Lady Anne smiled as if she knew precisely why he was so eager to journey to Hertfordshire. “Miss Elizabeth is coming to Kent in a few days.”

Darcy sucked in a sharp breath. “Has she written to you?”

“Though she is welcome to do so, I believe she may feel it would be presumptuous. No, I heard of it from her sister Mrs. Collins. She sent me a note that she had a gift for Little Lou – a doll that was once a favourite of hers – and so we called there this morning while Mr. Collins was at the dower house.”

“I see.” Darcy stared abstractedly across the room. “Last time we spoke of Elizabeth, your sentiments were not so generous.”

“Mrs. Collins and I spoke very frankly together; she told me what she knew of the night that Marcus became engaged, and she relayed a conversation she overheard between Miss Bennet and Caroline.”

“Mrs. Collins would have had her account of that night from Elizabeth, but I can attest to the veracity of whatever she told her sister. She and I spoke on the matter more than once.”

“Yes, so you said.” His mother leaned into him once more, fidgeting with the fringe on her gown. “I should not have spoken against her. I was angry at the situation, of course, for I do not think Caroline is worthy of Marcus or her new position, but I no longer hold your Miss Elizabeth accountable for it. Indeed, I am sorry for her, for Mrs. Collins expressed how pained she was by her sister’s actions, and I know Miss Elizabeth is very close with Miss Bennet. I have often felt discomfited by Catherine’s behaviour over the years. And Mrs. Collins indicated that she suspects Miss Elizabeth has been in very low spirits since Christmas. In a roundabout way, I suppose her elder sister’s actions led to her separation from you.”

Darcy gave a heavy sigh. He had felt this last bit keenly in the months since leaving Hertfordshire. Miss Bennet had acted in her own self-interest, and in securing an advantageous alliance for herself, she had cost the sister that adored her so dearly the chance at a love match.

And Elizabeth was coming to Kent. The possibilities of such a visit, and all the sentiments this prospect inspired, washed over Darcy in a dizzying wave that left him with goose flesh. Elizabeth would be at Rosings.

“When is she expected at the parsonage?”

“Her father will accompany her from London in a few days’ time,” Lady Anne said. She looked up at him with uncertainty. “I believe I shall depart for Pemberley the day after tomorrow, with or without Mr. Bingley.”

“You do not wish to see her?”

“I do not wish to be an impediment,” Lady Anne said sadly. “I know you all too well, my dear boy. You will wish to resume your courtship, and you would feel guilty when we are still in mourning, especially if you feared it would give me pain. With me absent for a fortnight, you might feel more comfortable in reacquainting yourselves. And when I return, I shall have Georgie for company, and Catherine and Little Lou. And then we shall be at half-mourning, and nobody could fault you for spending time with her.”

Darcy felt the truth of what she said, and squeezed her hand in agreement. “Georgie is going to love her.”

“I hope it shall induce Georgie to remain here, if you will allow it. She wrote more of George Wickham than I could like. I believe even your father would have disapproved if she should form an attachment, and he is a handsome lad.”

Darcy had formed the same fear after reading his own missive from his sister, and he nodded his agreement. “You are both as welcome as Elizabeth to make Rosings your permanent residence.”

“It is a shame Little Lou cannot stay with us indefinitely. Perhaps once Marcus has a son to dote upon, but at present I think she will give him comfort at Pemberley. I will take her home with me – Catherine is expecting another guest.”

A chill of presentiment went up Darcy’s spine. “Oh?”

“Catherine had intended to sponsor Lady Amelia’s season in London, but she left your cousin to her maternal grandmother’s care so that she could go to Pemberley in December, and since then she has been content with her granddaughter, for she wishes to keep Little Lou away from Caroline. But she has invited Lady Amelia to Kent, and I do not believe she has given up her fixation with making a match between you. If I cannot play hostess for you at Rosings for a fortnight, your cousin will have to stay at the dower house instead, and you will be able to keep a distance.”

It was just what Darcy had feared. His formidable aunt was never one to let matters rest, and had made her wishes known to him once again at Christmas. It was unsurprising that she would summon Lady Amelia – and unfortunate that it should happen just as he was to be reunited with the woman he preferred to marry.

He smiled wryly at his mother. “I have never thought you at all like your sister, but you certainly know your way around her scheming.”

“I have had half a century of practice,” his mother chortled. She let out a sudden gasp, and Darcy realised it was the first time he had heard her laugh since Netherfield. Since before his father died.

Darcy’s heart swelled with tenderness for the woman before him. “Will you spend the day with me tomorrow, if you must depart the following day?”

She had just smiled broadly and nodded her assent when the dinner gong was rung. She made her way downstairs, and Darcy promised to follow shortly.

Once alone in his bedchamber, he crossed the room to the armoire and pulled opened a small drawer. There was but one item within. Neatly folded inside the drawer was a red knit scarf that Elizabeth had left behind at Netherfield; she had worn it the night it had snowed, when they walked in the garden and then snuck into the kitchen.

He ran his fingers over it, where breadcrumbs still nestled in the wool from their late-night snack. Then, as he had done so many times before, he lifted it to his face and drank in the lingering scent of the woman who consumed his waking thoughts.