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24 November, 1805

Cameron Court, Yorkshire

Dearest Lizzy,

Words cannot express how my heart broke for you when I heard news of your husband’s death. I cannot bear to think that the twins (whom I long to meet) should grow up without such a kind and loving father. Though things are not well between Charles and I, this reminder that life is precious has brought us a little closer, and I am doing my best to cherish little Marcus. I miscarried again last spring; perhaps this motherless babe is the only child I shall ever have.

But, Lizzy, his resemblance to my husband is uncanny – his parentage is undeniable. My husband took a mistress, and it must have occurred very near to the time we wed. I continually ask myself what you would do in such a situation as I now find myself. I know that you would love the little cherub, who is blameless and impossible not to dote upon. But I cannot find it in myself to voice my suspicions to Charles – I do not know that it would be right.

I followed Caroline’s advice, fool that I was, in avoiding that activity which creates life, for she wished us to advance ourselves unencumbered in London society. Only when it became clear that was unlikely to happen, given her bereavement and subsequent illness – only then did I endeavour to give my husband an heir, and it seems another has bested me in that.

But I digress – I can hardly send my condolences and then go on about my own tribulations, which are of my own creation, I suppose.

I hope you will join us at Cameron Court for Christmas. Come sooner, if you are able to travel with the twins. It must be terrible to live in a house so full of painful memories. A change of scenery and an elder sister to dote upon you and your darling babies would surely cheer you.

I wish us to be as we once were – I have long desired it. I know the reason why your letters are seldom, and merely cordial. And I am ready to throw myself on your mercy. It was all so badly done of me, and nothing has been right since the moment Caroline cornered me and coerced me into dancing to her tune. Though I could not have known that act would lead to circumstances which separated you from a man you loved, I did know it was wrong. I chose wrong, out of weakness and desperate self-interest.

It has been nearly a year since Caroline died, and many months longer since I have heard from her. Charles and I gave up our honeymoon to stay at Pemberley and comfort her after Marcus’s death, but she has not contacted me since then. What horrid thing transpired, I know not, but I suppose I simply ceased to be of any use to her. That must be a relief, at least. And yet it is a bitter feeling, to know I blackened a piece of my soul for a woman who six months later cast me aside and left me holding all the broken pieces of what I had done for her.

The worst of it shall always be that it cost me my beloved sister. I saw how ruined you were when I went to Kent, and I did what seemed my only option, but it was still self-interest in the end. Perhaps my wickedness is why God will not grant me a child.

But I wish us to be truly reconciled, not only for my own sake but for yours. After such a loss, you deserve peace and succour – and you deserve my heartfelt apology.

All my love,

Jane Bingley

***

24 December, 1805

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire

Dear Jane,

I cannot tell you what your last letter meant to me. You are quite right – it is past time for us to acknowledge all that happened, and heal the breach. You broke my heart, that night at Netherfield two years past, and again when you came to Kent. And every time you carried out Caroline’s beastly schemes, I was separated from a man I love so much it nearly killed me.

I wish I could say the wound no longer hurt me. Two months into my mourning, my grief ought to be all for my husband, and yet there is still a small hole in my heart that aches for that first love. It is impossible not to wonder how it all might have happened differently, even if I have been content at Netherfield with my children – Olly’s children.

But I once told Captain Darcy that we ought to think of the past only as it gives us pleasure, and it is time for me to take my own advice. I am grateful that you have at least spared me from having to initiate such a difficult conversation, and I admire your courage. Of course I accept your apology. Caroline is gone, and we need not let her treachery haunt us any longer.

I hope it will cheer you to know that I shall not be weeping in solitude on Christmas. Charlotte is with me, of course, and the Lucases are my in-laws now; they could not be denied this first Christmas with Bennet and Sophia. Some relations of theirs arrived last week, as well as a most unexpected group of visitors.

You may remember the assembly, when we first met Charles and his friends. Olly also had a friend in attendance, Captain Drake. Now knighted and married, Sir John Drake has come to visit, along with his wife. She is affable, if a bit reserved, and Sir John has been excellent company, regailing us with many tales of his adventures abroad with Olly.

Before his death, my husband gave me a letter to deliver to Sir John in the event of his death. Surely you understand certain facts that I will not apply my pen to – I believe the old gossip in Meryton from years ago may have led you to think Olly a safe choice as my supposed fiancé, when you told Captain Darcy of it – you knew that he would be aware of why this would be most unlikely.

Thus I suppose you can imagine that Sir John has been in high emotion during his visit. When he arrived, he asked me for some memento of Olly. I offered him a sketch Kitty had done, and though he accepted it with tears in his eyes, he asked for a shirt belonging to my husband as well. I thought it a strange request until I beheld him bury his face in the garment and breathe in Olly’s scent. It was incredibly moving, though it broke my heart.

I was very happy with my husband, the short year that we were wed. We were the best of friends, but ours was not the deep and ardent love that one reads about in novels. It was not the consuming passion I felt for Captain Darcy, though it did help to heal the pain of his abandonment.

I truly wish you and Charles every happiness. I know not what to say regarding your speculations about little Marcus, but I hope that you may put the past away and be happy together. I have always wanted your happiness, even when you jeopardized mine.

I know not when I might visit – perhaps in the summer. Until then, I shall endeavour to be a more reliable correspondent.

Your loving sister,

Lizzy Lucas

***

2 January, 1806

Cameron Court, Yorkshire

Dear Darcy,

If you are reading this letter and have not cast it into the fire, I thank you, and must say that I wrote to make amends, if I can. We have been settled in Yorkshire, but thirty miles from Pemberley, for a year and a half now, and Caroline has been gone for a year. It pains me to be so close, and yet so far removed from you, my old friend. The loss pains me as much as losing Marcus, and thus my grief is doubled.

You would not hear my apologies when last I was at Pemberley, and perhaps you were right to rebuff my sentiments, which were ill-informed at the time. Caroline would have made me believe it to be my own fault – what you walked in on. And I might have done so, had you not found us out. I am glad you did, truly; I could not have allowed her lie to succeed, and I would have endeavoured to prevent it, had she attempted to pass our child off as a Darcy.

She did bear a child, Will. I sent her to Brighton before her condition became evident. Louisa cut ties with her, and I attempted to do the same, even preventing her from communicating with Jane. She wrote me several scathing letters while she was in Brighton, and made no secret of the fact that she duped me. She preyed upon me at a weak moment, when I had been weeping for Marcus, and seduced me for the purpose of bearing an heir that would allow her to keep Pemberley. I did not see it at the time, but I am grateful beyond measure that you did.

The child survived the birth, though she did not. Little Marcus Bingley has come to live with Jane and I, though to all the world he is the orphan of a distant cousin of mine. You would have guessed his parentage, I think, for his resemblance to his father is unfortunate – even Jane seems suspicious, and I cannot bring myself to confess the truth to her.

Perhaps it is because things are amiss with my wife that I throw myself on your mercy, for I am in need of a friend, Will. Jane has miscarried twice, and we cannot seem to rid ourselves of her mother, who has not been welcome at Longbourn in quite some time. I had hoped Mrs. Bennet might return to Meryton and reside with Lizzy when the twins were born, but Jane refuses to even ask her sister about it.

The Collinses are a curious couple. I can see your influence on the man, and his wife has improved a great deal since their union as well. I rather admire her for putting her foot down when Mrs. Bennet carried on as if she were still mistress of the Longbourn, though it has caused considerable inconvenience having Mrs. Bennet at Cameron Court. I have resolved to build a dower house in all haste.

I long to hear from you, Will. Even if you wish to castigate me once again for what I have done, I shall bear your ire until it is spent, if only we could be friends again afterward.

Your humble servant,

Charles Bingley

***

22 January, 1806

Darcy House, London

Dear Bingley,

I cannot say how pleased I was to hear from you. I have been so immersed in the business of managing my estate and doing my duty to my family these last two years, that I have had little cause to smile as I did when I received your letter. Elizabeth Bennet once told me to think of the last only as it gives me pleasure, and I am perfectly ready to do so. The timing could not be better, for over Christmas my uncle Lord Russell encouraged me to heal the breach between us, though I knew not how to go about it.

We need not dwell upon the wickedness of your-stepsister. On that subject I will only say that I cannot approve of you keeping the child’s parentage from your wife, for whatever suspicions she bears must pain her a great deal. Caroline caused a great deal of misery, perhaps more than you may realise, though I should rather save that ghastly tale for another time.

I am no longer quite so consumed by my endeavours to correct the mismanagement of my estate prior to my inheritance. During the years of my father’s illness, when Marcus was mourning Anne and then much aggrieved by his choice of second wife, there was a great deal of neglect which I have devoted myself to rectifying.

I have had little society, though Collins has remained a faithful and amusing correspondent, and Richard plagues me with his frequent visits and irreverent high spirits. I have missed our friendship, and mourned it as you did. But I cannot stand upon principle, against my own heartfelt inclination, and I should be glad to call you friend once more.

We are in London for Georgiana’s season; my family finally came out of mourning in the spring, though it has hardly felt any different. My sister is happier, however, and my mother has found a much-needed sense of purpose in chaperoning Georgiana about town and pondering the possibilities of her myriad suitors.

I have been avoiding their many social engagements, though I have made a point of acquainting myself with the gentlemen who express interest in my sister – naturally none of them shall ever be up to snuff. But beyond attending the club to survey how these youths comport themselves when the ladies are not present, I am more reclusive than ever.

I must confess, fool that I am, I have not recovered from my attachment to Elizabeth Bennet, though it has been more than two years since I courted her, and above a year and a half since I last met with her. Our last parting was on such terms that I was shocked and aggrieved to learn of her marriage to my friend Captain Lucas. I have since come to understand why it happened, but it was a discovery that did little to ease my suffering.

My mother would have me attend balls and find a suitable bride, but I find I am not prepared. Perhaps I should compare every woman I meet to Elizabeth, or worse, perhaps I should have my heart broken a second time. I shall be content to see Georgiana happy, and my mother as well. As to my own contentment, I find I look forward to renewing our correspondence. If you happen to be in London this spring, it would truly be delightful to see you.

Yours ever,

Fitzwilliam Darcy

***

15 February, 1806

Cameron Court, Yorkshire

Dear Will,

It was such a relief to receive your response! I am glad we are to be friends again. I did intend to take your advice regarding Caroline’s villainy, but I could not bring myself to confess it to Jane – she has just given me the most excellent news!

Yesterday was St. Valentine’s Day, and we managed to convince her mother to visit relations in London last week. Thus we managed a proper romantic dinner together, and she told me that she is again with child! This time, she waited until she felt the quickening, though of course I have had my suspicions since Christmas. She has miscarried twice, and so we are equally fearful and hopeful that this time we may finally have a child, as we have long desired.

I believe she is fond of little Marcus, who is now taking proud strides about Cameron Court. He is a dear boy, and perhaps shall be my heir. I mean to be sure there is little of his mother in his disposition; if he grows to possess Jane’s sweetness and my penchant for cheerful babbling, he might be as fine a fellow as ever there was!

But I feel some apprehension of mentioning my own felicity when you are so dejected. I knew of your attachment to Lizzy when we were in Hertfordshire – it seems a lifetime ago! I had no notion that your feelings were so enduring, how ghastly. Perhaps one day you might tell me the particulars over a glass or three of brandy, just between us, and I shall commiserate with you.

But I would not wish you to endure the London marriage mart, even if your mother advises it. I must tell you, if you have not heard – Lizzy is now a widow; her husband fell at Trafalgar. If your feelings remain what they were, perhaps there is still a chance?

But Jane is at my side, and she bids me not to press you on the matter. She sends her regards, of course, and her wishes that you might pay us a visit in the spring. She hopes to have her sister with us by the time she enters her confinement.

By the by, we have heard from Lydia, who saw your cousin Richard at a ball in London recently. Apparently she was enamored of him when first they met years ago, and they even saw a little of one another in Kent when Lydia attended Mrs. Collins for her first confinement. But I ought not speculate – perhaps it is Mrs. Bennet’s lingering influence!

I feel myself quite a simpleton, for I was so enamored of my dear wife when we first met that I was hardly aware of the other attachments forming at the time. Yet now, I cannot help but wonder….

But I shall leave off for now. Oh! But how is your sister? I hope you are at your most imposing when the suitors come to call! And I hope your mother and charming little niece are in good health. Do write again soon.

Your devoted friend,

Charles Bingley

***

25 February, 1806

Cameron Court, Yorkshire

Dear Lizzy,

I hope you and the twins are well, and do send my regards to Charlotte – I saw news of her engagement in the papers. How wonderful that poor Mr. Goulding should find so fine a wife and mother to his children, after so many years a widower. I confess I find second attachments to be terribly romantic, even though I know Charlotte styles herself quite a pragmatist. I wish them every happiness, and I hope it will not pain you to lose her constant company.

Perhaps it would cheer you to visit Cameron Court at last? I will admit to some ulterior motive in beseeching you to visit. Things are not well between Charles and I – more fraught than usual since Mamma’s return. For the short time that she was away, it seemed that things were better. I told him that I had felt the quickening, and am once again expecting a child. I believe this shall really be the time it happens. By my count, the babe should arrive in August.

Charles has been attentive since then, but Mamma had too much to drink at dinner a few nights ago, and made some very distressing comments about Marcus’s resemblance to Charles. I confronted him about it, and he finally confessed. He will not speak of the babe’s mother, but he confessed that he is the child’s father. Crestfallen as I was, I had to admit that I deserved his infidelity, after how I schemed with Caroline.

I finally admitted my duplicity in compromising Mr. Darcy, and Charles was incensed beyond words. It was utterly horrid – I cannot bring myself to recount the words spoken in anger and despair. Though he remains concerned for my well being while I carry his child, we are barely more than cordial.

And so I have contrived to host a little house party this spring, for then we must behave civilly to one another. I hope you will consent to be one of the party. Indeed, as your marriage to Olly, even when you loved another, was still happier than my love match – perhaps you might advise me. I wish to make things right between Charles and I at last, and I had thought my confession would accomplish it, but it has only made matters worse.

Please, Lizzy. Please come to Yorkshire. I need my sister, and I am desperate to right my many wrongs. Perhaps then God will grant me a living child.

I shall invite Colonel Fitzwilliam, as well – Charles wrote to him recently, for Lydia saw the colonel in London and remains as infatuated as ever. I know that Kitty is happy with Mr. Collins, but I wounded her in helping Caroline compromise Mr. Darcy. I cannot change that, but I might do what I can for Lydia.

Do say you will consent to visit and bring little Sophia and Bennet. I need my dear Lizzy desperately.

Your loving sister,

Jane Bingley

***

1 March, 1806

Darcy House, London

Dear Bingley,

My heartiest congratulations on your good news. I hope your wife remains in excellent health, and all your family, as well.

Congratulations are in order here at Darcy House, as well, for my sister is to be wed in a fortnight. I am of the opinion she is too young yet, but it seems I am overruled. Mamma heartily approves of her fiancé, Viscount Webster – Jerome, and he would have me call him. I like him well enough, and I could deny my sister nothing after all she has suffered these past two years.

Tomorrow is her eighteenth birthday, and our mother and I intend to indulge her excessively in a day of shopping. I find the near-constant talk of her nuptials does not distress me as I imagined it would, and I am to acquire an amiable new brother. I should much rather gain relations, when I have lost too many in recent years.

My mother has regained a great deal of her tranquillity and fondness for company. She was even visited by Miss Lydia Bennet, whom I suspect came to call in the hopes of catching a glimpse of my cousin – she has not grown in subtly, though her manners have improved – her Aunt Gardiner seems a most genteel companion for her. Georgiana liked her, and took to her interest in the colonel with such alacrity that I may have to speak to my sister about letting matters take their own course. You may imagine I do not think well of interference in matters of the heart. However, I encouraged Georgiana to correspond with Miss Bennet when she departed London for Cameron Court.

Little Lou is now six years old – you would hardly recognize her for the growth spurt she has had this winter. I believe there is a very apt quote by William Shakespeare I shall bore you with, as I think it suits her perfectly – though she be but little, she is fierce.

I can recall with pain and pleasure alike, a particular occasion at Netherfield when we all spoke of accomplished women, and that is just what Little Lou aspires to be. She has satisfied the criteria I contributed to that discussion long ago, in the improvement of her mind through extensive reading. I believe she will be consuming novels in a few short years, at the rate she is going. She also aspires to emulate her Aunt Georgie in applying herself to the pianoforte, and I am sure she already speaks better French than anyone in the family. She is truly a prodigy – you will laugh when I jest that Marcus would be quite astonished at her ambition.

How goes the progress of the dower house? I hope it may be completed expediently, for I cannot imagine Mrs. Bingley would enjoy her mother's presence for her confinement. I hope you may maintain some semblance of serenity as that time draws near.

It may perhaps be within my power to visit you in a few weeks. I mean to return to Pemberley for the spring planting, and if you will have me, I might first come to Yorkshire for a few days.

Yours ever,

Fitzwilliam Darcy

***

7 March, 1806

Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire

Dearest Jane,

My congratulations on your wonderful news! What a joy that must be for you – it delights me to hear of it. Though I am sorry that you are still encumbered by troubles. I hope I might be of some help.

And now you must prepare yourself for a great shock, though it is joyful tidings – I shall at last accept your invitation. It is high time I see Cameron Court, and introduce you to your niece and nephew. Charlotte says she will beat me about the head if I do not visit you at last – whatever your letter to her contained, it was most convincing.

She is to be married in a fortnight, and remove to Haye Park. Though it is not far, I imagine she will be occupied with her new husband and her step-children, and I shall indeed be lonely without her. Perhaps I ought to leave Netherfield for the first time since I have taken up residence here. It is time.

What is the progress of the dower house? I must confess, I have no wish to see Mamma when I go to Yorkshire. I might suggest she come to Hertfordshire, in fact. She is welcome to stay at Netherfield and lord over her friends here in my absence – I shall pay my servants double for the trouble she is sure to give them. The Collinses are to travel to Shropshire to visit the Taylors – Mr. Taylor unexpectedly inherited an estate there, not long after their last visit to Longbourn. With the Collinses away, they will hardly be vexed by Mamma residing so near her former domain.

I would love to see Lydia, however – do ask her to stay behind. Even if her conversation is much the same as her letters from London, it has been so long since I have seen her that I shall listen with rapt attention and only roll my eyes when absolutely necessary! But I must say, it would be better not to meddle with her and the colonel. I should be glad to see him again, for he was very kind to me in Kent – but I am sure Lydia needs no assistance from us where he is concerned.

If this plan is agreeable to you, I shall travel north after Charlotte’s wedding, and arrive at Cameron Court one month from today.

With affection and excitement,

Lizzy Lucas

***

15 March, 1806

Cameron Court, Yorkshire

Dear Darcy,

What excellent news about your sister! Do give her my warmest regards! Lydia has already exchanged a few letters with her, and I have decided to invite your cousin the colonel to visit when you come to us. Only you would do better to visit after you have seen to the planting at Pemberley. We are to host a little house party, and at the end of it I mean to give a ball, as a belated anniversary gift to my wife. You must come three weeks from now, and be one of our house party – you might remain more than a few days, for I dearly miss your company, and should like a few weeks of it if you will indulge me.

I have a particular reason to wish you here. Though I have endeavoured not to distress my wife while she is in a delicate condition, we have quarrelled again. She confessed to me that she aided Caroline in compromising Marcus, and the mere mention of my step-sister enraged me more than I ought to have shown. I said something rather ghastly to my wife, and I fear she will never forgive me for it. Will, I blamed her for Marcus’s death – I said that Marcus was so miserable with Caroline that he fought Wickham to escape the marriage Jane helped bring about. I am the most infamous idiot in existence.

I must make things right before the babe arrives, for we have long wished for this child, and it ought to be the happiest of times for us. I have spoiled it all, and I know not how to unspoil it. I beg your assistance, for I daresay you have gotten me out of a scrape or two before.

Your beseeching friend,

Charles Bingley