General

General

26 November 1815 Pemberley, Derbyshire

Dearest Kitty,

I am so deliriously happy with your news that I can just scream, or maybe kiss my husband and my boys, or dance around in joy and then repeat the whole process. We have all been anxiously awaiting the end of this war for so long, and after Waterloo we had some real hope that it would finally be over. Now with Napoleon exiled to St. Helena, it is at long last finished and I cannot even begin to describe the joy I am feeling. I will even go so far as to refrain from chastising your intended about how long it took him to finally come to the point, because Fitzwilliam and I both well understand his reasoning. I thought he might have looked favourably on you as far back as my wedding, even though you were much too young at the time for his affections; but in a complete breach of habit, he copied my husband’s inscrutable ways and would not say a word.

Before he left for the Continent, Fitzwilliam talked to him about his intentions; and he steadfastly refused all entreaties. All he would say is that he would not shirk his duty by staying in England, and he refused to leave behind a widow or even a lady whose heart was engaged when there was every chance he would not come back. He is indeed a foolish man, but we all love our foolish men, do we not ?

I also believe he was concerned about the disparity in your ages, but since you are now the age I was when I wed, I think you both shall have no reason to repine. He truly is the best of men, and I could not be happier.

We cannot wait for the both of you to arrive at Pemberley, and I cannot express how happy I am that you will be wed in the same chapel as I was; although with Mary’s husband’s occupation, I do not see how you had any other choice. Please hurry your steps back here as soon as you may. I understand it will take time for your intended to complete his military tasks, but I am so happy that he has finally considered his duty to King and Country complete and decided to settle down.

I know of his reluctance to talk of his time on the continent, so I shall consider it my duty to tell you things he may choose to omit. The most shocking thing is that our brother, Major Wickham, has served the last three years with true distinction, and his Major’s rank is well earned. In fact, according to a private communication that my husband shared, he ended up fighting back-to-back with your general at Waterloo. That must have been a shock to both, but battle seems to have forged a bond between them. It shames me to think that back in the dark days of the year twelve I wrote in a letter to Jane and Mary that I wished he would be sent to the continent to be killed or tamed. On his last leave, I apologised to both him and Lydia profusely for that, but they just laughed at me. He seems to feel that the war was the making of him, and perhaps it is true. He seems a very different man than the rake who married Lydia, and we have all quite forgiven him.

My boys are doing well, and I am sure you know they are thick as thieves with Lydia’s two and Mary’s two, since we brought Lydia to Pemberley; although with the younger three only a year old, little else can be expected.

I have noticed a suspiciously large number of ponies in the stables, and Fitzwilliam has been surreptitiously eyeing all six of the boys, so I am not entirely certain our brother will be able to spirit them away when he does return.

There is some chance the major will be sent to the Canadas, and Lydia may even go with him; but that is to be determined. Either way, I believe we will find a way to keep Wickham and Lydia close. We have long since forgiven anything and everything in the past, and we have all become quite intimate. I once swore I would never call him either brother or Mister, but I now do so without qualms.

I have two last items to broach. The first is that you well know that a good part of our income comes from our stake in Gardiner, Livingston, Ellery, Darcy, and Fitzwilliam. What you may not know is that the ‘Darcy’ in that company’s name is me, not my husband. I have been actively participating in the business since that first trip to Lambton all that time ago. I suspect you may have worked that out already.

The part you probably do not know is that the ‘ Fitzwilliam’ part of the name is your soon-to-be husband, not Uncle Matlock as has always been assumed. We voted him an equal share right after my wedding when he went back to Spain. We all believed, and still do, that if he was risking life and limb to protect us and ours, it was the least we could do. My husband has been voting his shares all this time, and we are anxious for him to join the fray fully. His contacts in the King’s Army will be useful, and his efforts to open the Continent back up to trade make this a very good business venture for us; so please do not think of it as charity. He has earned his share and far more, but I suspect you may have to bludgeon him into submission to get him to accept. He suffers from an excess of pride, as we all do. If it comes down to it, you should point out to him that he is the third stubbornest person in England and is being opposed by the first and second.

The last and most difficult thing is that I wish to ask your permission to allow our mother to attend your wedding. The abuse she heaped on you and me in particular is quite unforgivable, but I have finally found it in my heart to do so. It may be the most difficult thing I have ever done, since she did not have the major’s war record to recommend her, and all that had happened is the passage of time and my becoming able to remember that she is our mother, and I owe her for that. Perhaps, having my own children has softened my heart in my old age.

If you have reached a similar conclusion, I shall invite her to Pemberley for the wedding, and I will do my best to rein in the worst of her behaviour. If not, then I shall still invite her here, but after you have parted, which shall not be for at least two or three months, I hope. You decide, and I shall take care of the particulars.

And so, my dear sister, I must close before I start dripping so many tears over the paper that it looks like one of Charles’ missives.

Speaking of Charles, he and Jane will either be here directly for your wedding, or they have decided to become Buddhists and emigrate to the Orient—either is possible based on my perusal of his letter. I am hoping I will be able to read Jane’s letter when it follows to clarify.

Please hurry. We cannot wait to see you and your intended.

Your loving sister, Elizabeth Darcy