Enemies

Enemies

5 September 1812 Gracechurch Street

Dearest Sisters,

Would you feel terribly bad if I were hanged for murdering our sister? I only ask as a point of reference, as I would judge that the most likely outcome of any further exposure to her. Aside from Mrs Bennet, she is the most ill-mannered, ill-bred, and ignorant female it has ever been my displeasure to know, or in fact ever heard of. I now repent the loss of the Bingley sisters, as they would be an improvement.

I have been charged with informing my sisters that Lydia has been found, and she will be married from Gracechurch Street in our local parish. Uncle has been looking for her these three weeks, meeting with various gentlemen who were instrumental in the search, while I was attending my employment.

Mr Ellery is quite satisfied with the business arrangements Uncle made in Derbyshire and has given me the honour of acting not only as clerk, but as his agent in a more responsible position than I ever imagined. Aside from the need to periodically travel to the hated northern county, it is everything wonderful. But, as you can see, I digress again as I am avoiding the unpleasant story that is your due.

I came home to Gracechurch Street last night, and found Lydia thoroughly unrepentant, and boasting of her upcoming marriage. I thought she was likely touched in the head, but Aunt assured me that all has been arranged.

I cannot imagine what it must have cost our uncle to accomplish it. I had been previously made aware of Wickham’s level of debt, and it is substantial. He also seems to have a commission in the regulars, and that must have cost as well. I cannot see how Uncle managed it for less than ￡7-10,000. Such a sum is more than Mr Bennet could possibly pay back in his lifetime, even should he attempt it, as Longbourn’s total income is short of ￡2,000 and Mrs Bennet overspends her allowance nearly every day. It would seem we are more indebted to Aunt and Uncle than we can ever repay.

Lydia was both boasting of her good fortune, and simultaneously berating Aunt because she was not to get a trousseau, or any new dresses or bonnets. Lydia had apparently been chastising Aunt for some time in this manner before I arrived home, and no amount of words from either of our lips could silence the little hoyden.

I must admit, at that moment I could well have killed her. Instead, I took the much more sensible approach of simply grabbing her ear like a misbehaving schoolboy and dragging her up the stairs .

When we arrived, I simply locked her in a spare bedroom and told her I would be back for her when her wedding was arranged. She stormed around, breaking things, and generally making herself every bit the worthless individual her mother has been shaping this last decade, but at long last relented. I have taken the bold step of forbidding Aunt and all the servants from so much as walking by her door, which Uncle found most amusing but agreed to.

I sent a note to Mr Ellery begging a few days leave to deal with her, as there is no possibility that I will force Aunt or her children to deal with the miserable chit. She is to be my cross to bear for the next two days until the wedding, and I will worry about just how far my own manners and language have fallen after that event is complete.

I have discussed the arrangements with Aunt and Uncle in some detail. I will stand up with Lydia, simply because I cannot imagine saddling anyone else with the miserable chore. Uncle and I will escort her to the church to meet her sorry excuse for a groom, who apparently is obliged to complete the ceremony or be turned over to the magistrate for debtor’s prison. Given the choice of Lydia or a life in debtor’s prison, I am not entirely certain he chose well, but I am somewhat satisfied that the two of them are most suitable for each other, and they are both removing themselves from the company of the rest of the world. Uncle also apprised me of what their income will be, and while they will survive, Lydia has not the slightest idea of how unwell they will live. Her education is about to begin in earnest.

We will host a wedding breakfast at Gracechurch Street, but Aunt has wisely sent her children away to a friend’s house until after the couple has departed. I will do my best to refrain from strangling either or both, so I would ask you to wish me luck or patience.

Now I must come to the most distressing part for you. They are to visit Longbourn for nearly a week, before travelling to his commission, which is apparently as far north as you can get and still be on English soil. With any luck, he will be shipped off to the continent and either killed or tamed.

I begged Uncle to stop this mad plan, but both Aunt and Uncle assure me that a very public visit to the neighbourhood is the only thing that will restore our reputations. He plans to simply tell Mrs Bennet a bald-faced lie about the whole affair, and she will spread it around like wildfire. You must endure them for a week, and then they will be gone forever.

I must close now to get some supper for Lydia. I refuse to let her out of her bedroom if she will not be civil, and I must admit to being pessimistic.

Your dutiful sister, Lizzy