Chapter 12

Elizabeth and Mary rested at Lilac Cottage for one night before the ladies went with Diane to London. Elizabeth gifted Kitty and Lydia each a new morning dress, afternoon dress, and evening gown from her stock of old gowns before they went away to ensure the girls had something productive and engaging to work on besides their studies while she was away, and to keep them dedicated. Mary was nervous to be in London for the Season, even though she was not officially out. They would attend no private night time events or balls until Mary was presented at court the following year, although there would be a few evening engagements Elizabeth must attend alone.

A note from Colonel Fitzwilliam was waiting for her when they arrived in London, informing her that to increase her security, for Lieutenant Wickham had escaped. Elizabeth replied that she would be vigilant, just in case the man attempted to avenge himself again, and wrote to Lydia and Kitty to be on their guard.

The day after they arrived in London, Mr Darcy called and requested a private audience with Lady Astley. Elizabeth wondered at the request for a private audience. Mr Darcy was a fine gentleman, and she admired him, but they were a long way off from a proposal and Elizabeth hoped he was not about to ruin a friendship precipitously.

As she sat waiting patiently in her drawing room, Mr Darcy paced in front of the fireplace, clearly at war with himself. He was clearly about to propose, but at least his agitation indicated that his affections must be engaged, she thought.

Mr Darcy sat near her on the settee and said: "In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you," Elizabeth was astonished at the passion in his words, which was beyond expression. She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent.

This he considered sufficient encouragement; it might have all been rather perfect if he had not opened his mouth again, but the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately followed. He spoke well; but there were feelings besides those of the heart to be detailed; and he was just as eloquent regarding the damage to his pride and his connections as he was on the subject of the tenderness of his heart. His sense of her family's inferiority—of its being a degradation—of the family obstacles which had always opposed the inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his suit.

Elizabeth could not be insensible to the compliment of such a man's regard, and though her intentions did not vary for an instant, she was at first sorry for the pain he was to receive; until finally she was roused to bitter resentment by his subsequent language. When he suggested that marriage to him would be her best chance of safety with Wickham on the loose, she lost all compassion in anger.

Elizabeth spoke in a steely tone. "In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed. It is natural that obligation should be felt, and if I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you. But I cannot. I have never asked for your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly, sir. I am sorry to have caused pain to anyone. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be of short duration. The feelings which, you tell me have hindered your regard, can have little difficulty in overcoming them after this explanation."

"And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance."

"I might as well inquire," replied she, "why with so evident a desire of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character? Can you imagine, Mr Darcy, that I would ever accept the hand of a man who considered a connection to my family to be a degradation? Also consider sir, I am an independent woman of means. I have no need to marry for anything other than affection and inclination, and you have rendered such sentiments impossible with your ungentlemanly address and precipitate behaviour. How dare you suggest that marriage to you would be my best chance at security? Do you truly believe that I cannot defend myself? Do you truly wish to be accepted for such a reason? Can you not find a bride who would not accept you out of desperation?"

As she pronounced these words, Mr Darcy changed colour; but the emotion was short. "And this," cried Darcy, as he paced about the room, "is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me! I thank you for explaining it so fully. My faults, according to this calculation, are heavy indeed! But perhaps," added he, stopping in his stride and turning back to her, "These offences might have been overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design, and my genuine concern for your safety. These bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had I, with greater policy, concealed my struggles, and flattered you into the belief of my being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and just. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections? Am I to feel triumph at the prospect of connecting my sister to those who may ruin her chances To congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?"

Elizabeth felt herself growing more angry every moment; how dare this idiot man, with his own share of embarrassing relatives, degrade the behaviour of her family? She tried her utmost to speak with composure when she said softly in disbelief, "And these are the words of a gentleman who professes himself ardently in love…" She shook her head in disbelief and disappointment.

"I will admit, Mr Darcy, that I thought that you were a gentleman to be admired, and I have met few of those in the ton. Your behaviour upon the night we met was forgiven, and I was happy to start afresh, but your behaviour today has disappointed me greatly. I do not marry for fortune, nor for convenience, which makes your precipitate proposal today quite inappropriate regardless of any sentiments you have avowed. We have barely more than a few week's acquaintance. Such a sudden proposal is unwelcome, and inappropriate. You are mistaken, Mr Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern and compassion which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner."

Darcy looked at her with an expression of pain mingled with incredulity, mortification and shame. "You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your valuable time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness." With these words he hastily left the room, and Elizabeth heard him the next moment open the front door and quit the house.

Elizabeth sat stunned, almost immobile in the drawing room, mulling over the scene in her mind for close to an hour before Mary happened upon her. "Lizzy, whatever is the matter, you look unwell!"

Elizabeth smiled at her sister. "I am not unwell dearest, only tired. I believe I might have a tray in my room tonight and rest."

Mary was concerned. Elizabeth rarely rested, unless it was Sunday or she had been travelling or shopping all day, which was always exhausting. Elizabeth was the most industrious person Mary had met in all of her life, for her sister almost never stopped working. She gave all the appearance of a lady of leisure, but especially in the city, she had Mr Banks scurrying from one place to another, delivering messages and sending expresses relating to Elizabeth's investments. Mary knew her sister was independently wealthy from her own investments, but she was just beginning to see exactly how wealthy. Elizabeth was clearly powerful among the ton, in society, and in trade. Mary observed many a hushed business discussion, surprisingly with men and women of rank, during social events with her sister. Even when Elizabeth was at play, she was working, and she attended events hosted by men of industry and their wives quite as often as by society hostesses. Mary did not accept that Lizzy needed to rest. She was determined to keep an eye on her sister.

*****

In an effort to put the incident with Mr Darcy behind her, Elizabeth threw herself and Mary into London society. They attended many daytime events, teas, luncheons, garden parties, and musicales of the type mostly attended by dowagers and very young ladies. They attended the opera and the theatre several times in the evenings. The dreaded (for Mary) tea with Her Majesty came and went. The Queen pronounced Mary "a sweet and charming girl," and instructed her secretaries to add Mary to the list of debutantes for the following year. Her Majesty asked after Elizabeth's other sisters, and Elizabeth spoke of Jane's marriage, as well as Kitty and Lydia's quest for self improvement. She spoke of Kitty's drawing, and how Lydia discovered hidden aptitudes for French and embroidery. Elizabeth showed Her Majesty a lovely handkerchief that Lydia presented her with when she left for London. "As you can see ma'am, it is almost too lovely to use, and I have not yet, as I feel quite guilty doing so, it is so pretty. And she makes her own patterns herself."

Her Majesty was so much taken with the lovely needlework that Elizabeth made the handkerchief a present to the monarch, and the great lady gave Elizabeth one of her own embroidered handkerchiefs, which she stitched herself, and which was exceedingly lovely. "Lady Astley, please tell your sister we are quite impressed with her talent, and give to her this token of our work, in the hopes that she will enjoy it as much as we do hers."

"Your Majesty is extremely kind, Lydia will treasure this always," responded Elizabeth. It was not uncommon that Elizabeth exchanged small gifts with The Queen. Like all monarchs, The Queen was slightly vain, and very enamoured of presents, and Elizabeth had given her many small, nostalgic tokens, and on two or three occasions, some very valuable gifts, including jewels. But for the Queen to praise her sister's needlework and send her a piece of her own was a high compliment indeed.

April and May were spent much the same. Elizabeth opened an account for Mary at Hatchards bookstore, and bid her to assist in stocking the library at Netherfield, and to buy as many books and as much music for herself as she liked. They spent many hours searching the shelves, and sent several carts of books and music back to Netherfield to make a start on a proper library there. Elizabeth did not care about the expense. She kept an excellently stocked library at each of her properties. She could not be troubled carting books back and forth between her properties each time she moved houses, as so many did. Every few weeks Elizabeth would send her sisters in Meryton a trinket or small treat, such as a pair of gloves, or a painted fan, or a particularly fine length of ribbon or lace. She and Mary corresponded with both Kitty and Lydia weekly, each of them playing chess with the younger girls by correspondence.

Elizabeth was gratified to see the difference the attention made when their younger sisters began sending them small gifts in return. A sketch of Netherfield Park for Elizabeth from Kitty. Another embroidered handkerchief, this time to Mary from Lydia, that was so lovely it would be a crime to use it. The girls were learning to think of others besides themselves, and Elizabeth was happy for it. She had an expensive and stylish bonnet ready for each of them when they returned to Netherfield. She and Mary withheld the information of the Queen's handkerchief in order to surprise Lydia when they returned. Elizabeth planned to have the gift framed behind glass for Lydia, to protect the precious keepsake.

They spent time with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, at the theatre and the opera, and Mr and Mrs Gardiner came with their children to more than one merry Sunday luncheon. Elizabeth and Mary took the children to the park regularly, and on other exciting outings, as she always did when they were in town and Mrs Gardiner made a point to take Diane on outings as well. Diane and the Gardiner children played together regularly, and often spent the night visiting at each other's homes.

There were gentlemen even at the daytime events while they were in town, but most were very respectful of Mary not officially being out, and did not become familiar. Elizabeth knew that most of the men she wished herself and Mary to avoid were not likely to be attending ladies' teas and afternoon musical activities. The gentlemen that attended such events were usually very young, mostly escorting their mothers and sisters, and behaved accordingly.

They did not call on the Bingleys, and did not see them at any events. Elizabeth and Mary were not attending balls or dinners, and Bingley mostly moved in Mr Darcy's society, which was very high indeed, but did not rank among some of Elizabeth's better connections, although Elizabeth had been in the same ballroom as Darcy many times, even if they had never been introduced. Elizabeth also socialised with many tradesmen and their wives, but Bingley's having left trade meant he socialised in those circles far less than before. Jane had made her stance perfectly clear, and Elizabeth had no interest in pressing the matter so no invitations were exchanged.

Mary had benefited from a London master, and from the society of other musically inclined young ladies. By the time they arrived in London, the master from St Albans had tutored her away from her pounding manner on the pianoforte, and Mary now played with a lovely depth of feeling, and ranked with distinction among the other young ladies in London for her talents.

Not having hired a proper companion, Elizabeth never allowed Mary to be out of her sight when they were outside of Astley House. There were too many predators in society. Even in the finest houses in London, a young lady could be compromised or worse, pulled into a darkened or isolated area by an unscrupulous guest and ruined. There were many dreadful people in the nobility, and Elizabeth took no chances with Mary's safety. There was also the chance that a man who had tired of chasing Elizabeth might think to compromise her sister for a dowry.

About halfway through their stay in London, Elizabeth contacted Colonel Fitzwilliam, and requested he assist her with hiring more servants for Netherfield. They made do when they first opened the house, and sent for some servants from Astley House, but Elizabeth didn't like leaving her London home understaffed even when she was not in residence. She hoped he would not see her contacting him as inappropriate, after her conversation with his cousin, but then decided Mr Darcy would probably not wish to share the embarrassing scene with anyone. It was likely Colonel Fitzwilliam did not even know of it.

Elizabeth and Mary were in the drawing room at Astley House with Diane when Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived. As was her habit, Elizabeth did not immediately send the child to the nursery, for she was busy learning her letters with her aunt, and the child was known to the colonel. The officer's attention was immediately arrested as he entered the room to see the stunning young lady on the floor playing with the child.

As they rose, Elizabeth said, "Colonel Fitzwilliam, thank you for calling. You, of course, remember my sister, Miss Bennet?"

"It's a privilege to meet you again, Miss Bennet," the colonel spoke earnestly. Elizabeth was amused. In the time that she had known him, she had never seen the colonel behave earnestly. Yes, she was sure he was earnest and honourable in character, however, she never saw him behave with anything other than military precision. At the moment, he looked more like Mr Bingley than himself. She was certain if he could see the expression upon his own face as he gazed at her sister he would be quite alarmed.

As they sat, the colonel had many questions about Mary and Hertfordshire, and not so many questions about the house that needed staffing there. He was vastly interested in Mary's experience in London, and the events she had attended. He was not the first gentleman to declare himself grieved that Mary was not out in town, nor attending balls, but once he had been given that information, he corrected his attentions politely, like the honourable gentleman Elizabeth knew him to be.

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam had known his share of ladies, but he had never been struck by lightning as he was when he glimpsed the lovely and gentle young lady on the floor with the child. The sight affected him like nothing he had ever encountered. Something primal rose within him. He suppressed an urge to throw the lady over his shoulder and withdraw to a remote cave somewhere. It was with some effort that he tempered his attentions upon learning she was not officially out.

He admired Lady Astley's plan not to rush the young gentlewoman into society, allowing her the opportunity to mingle with other young ladies, even though she was more than old enough. This young lady was clearly gentle and kind, and would benefit from the opportunity to build her confidence before she was set upon by the wolves of the ton. He wished he could introduce her to Georgiana, but unfortunately his young cousin was still ill. The colonel had visited her at Pemberley, and was grieved by her condition.

He thanked Elizabeth for having sent the note with the list of physicians, which she did before Darcy paid his call. She still would have sent it anyway. She would not have a young lady remain unwell if she knew someone who could help. With her previous experience as a modern doctor's wife, she knew a number of physicians who studied new methods of practising medicine, and never bled or purged their patients. Sir Astley corresponded and worked with a number of other physicians to write new textbooks and start a new Royal Medical Society, with the sponsorship of Prince Albert, who was taken with all manner of scientific and academic subjects.

As Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke with Elizabeth regarding her needs for servants, he recommended several husband and wife teams that could serve as footmen, guards, or outdoor staff as well as maids or seamstresses. He mentioned that such lower staff were not often able to have their spouses in the same household, and that if Elizabeth could manage a few cottages for the couples to live in on the estate, she would likely gain even more loyalty from her staff, for men and women would work even harder and value their posts much more highly if they could be near their spouses.

The new staff was vetted by the Colonel and Mr Montague, hired by Elizabeth, and trained by the housekeeper, Mr Banks, and Miss Carmichael for a few weeks before being sent to Hertfordshire to continue their training there.

Elizabeth also had the opportunity while in London to attend to her charitable outlets, of which there were many. She donated vast sums of money to several orphanages, both public and private, to veterans societies that assisted wounded soldiers to convalesce and find training and employment, to houses that assisted unwed pregnant gentlewomen and gentlewomen in trouble, to schools in the east end that provided poverty stricken children with a basic education and a humble meal each day.

But her most burning passion was The Order of Saint Camillus de Lellis [2] , an order of Anglican Nuns, all trained in modern nursing practices and midwifery, who worked with her late husband to develop new textbooks for nursing, and were currently working towards opening three nursing schools across England in London, Sussex, where the mother house was located, and Derbyshire, where they were attempting to buy a modest manor house that could be set up as a convent and nursing school.

Elizabeth was in fierce negotiation with one elderly baron in Derbyshire, who was very picky on grounds of rank, regarding who he sold his estate to. Elizabeth investigated and found that his only other offer was from none other than Mr Darcy, whose land bordered the estate in question, and which the owner desperately wished not to accept due to a generations long feud between the two families. The cost of such an estate would be an absolutely incredible amount to donate to the order, but Elizabeth revered the nuns, and was determined they should have a quality building to use as a school, since it was important for the order to present a reputable and welcoming face to society and to the community. She decided that a portion of the land could be retained to farm to support the school, and the rest of the tenant farms and land could be sold to someone who already owned property in the area, possibly even Mr Darcy, if he still wanted it, to recover some of her expense.

The students would come from all over the country and study under the nun's tutelage, going out on county rounds with the nuns, learning to treat illnesses, wounds, and deliver women safely from childbirth. If they could make it successful after the first two years, Prince Albert would push for a bill in Parliament that all new nursing students must be certified in the new Saint Camillus de Lellis Nursing Program, adopting it as the primary credentialed nursing education programme in the kingdom. Elizabeth and her late husband, as well as several other learned men, had persuaded Her Majesty and Prince Albert that specific requirements overseeing a basic quality of care in nursing and doctoring would benefit the health of the kingdom. Other nursing schools would be able to purchase textbooks, and offer the instruction as well. If it went as well as everyone hoped, then a new Royal Nursing Society would be founded under the sponsorship of the Crown that would require a standard of care that all nurses must follow. Elizabeth's late husband had already put in motion the wheels for a similar education plan and society for physicians that was still being worked upon by his former colleagues.

Elizabeth devised a fundraising plan to start the operation that had the ton going wild to participate. It was very common for high society and titled ladies and houses to have their own blends of tea that were made exclusively for their houses only. Elizabeth had two private blends of herbal, non-stimulating variety teas that were rich with spices and flavours, and were pleasing in taste and scent. Her Majesty had nearly a dozen exclusive exotic blends for Buckingham House, and Elizabeth was not acquainted with many titled ladies who did not have an agreement with London's premier tea house for at least one exclusive blend of their own.

The competition was fierce for the best tea blends, which one could only sample by visiting the lady's home in question, and being invited for tea. Society ladies did not take it well when another lady seemed to be attempting to copy her blend. Elizabeth turned the entire tradition on its head by arranging with London's premier tea house to make both of her tea blends available for public purchase, and marking up the price for charity, as long as all profits went to the Order of Saint Camillus de Lellis.

Elizabeth's aunt Lady Hexham, Lady B_______ and the Dowager Duchess of St I___ assisted by each donating one of their private blends, and then once Her Majesty donated her own favourite blend to be purchased for public consumption, there was a riot of ladies of upper and middle class at the tea house each day, all waiting to sample and purchase teas previously reserved for noble houses, and to have their own blends upon the menu with Her Majesty's. The most popular gift of the season was variety baskets, attractively assembled, of the fundraiser teas with other assorted delicacies, which were available in a variety of sizes and prices. The idea was wildly successful, and Prince Albert was inspired to match the amount that was raised during the first two weeks of the scheme, making the fundraiser successful beyond their wildest dreams.

Elizabeth was still struggling with getting the landowner in Derbyshire to sell her the estate that was needed. Her plan was sound. The estate was a large one, with a massive number of acres and tenant farms, but with a rather small manor house, about midway in size between Longbourne and Netherfield. This was the source of the owner's trouble. Anyone who could afford such a large estate was also in want of a large house, perhaps not as large as Pemberley, but almost, and the existing manor house was too large to be converted to a dower house; indeed a perfectly acceptable one already existed. Elizabeth thought that if the home farm and one or two tenant farms were retained, the nuns would be able to support the house at the reduced expense of their frugal style of living, and would be able to offer scholarships for young women who could not afford tuition. The rest of the land could be sold to recover much of what she had spent on the property. Even if she did not sell the land, Elizabeth could bear the cost easily, and another solution could be found. It was likely she would offer to sell the land to Mr Darcy, for it bordered his own, and Elizabeth felt it was only right, and suspected he would want it. But she would not make that decision until the deal was made and she visited the location herself to determine with the order what the best plan of action would be.

Eventually she involved her uncle, the Earl of Hexham, in the negotiations. The elderly owner of the property was at last calmed at the idea that the estate would go to a noble enough family. They agreed not to trouble the gentleman with the information that they planned to split up the land and turn the house into a convent and school. He would be unhappy when he eventually found out, but Elizabeth was a businesswoman, and had little interest in the man's classist concerns.

*****

Elizabeth informed the order at the start of May that the property was secured, and that work on the house could begin immediately. The owner sold the house fully furnished. The Nuns would not live in a house filled with rich and expensive furnishings, so the house would be completely stripped. What was comfortable and practical would remain, and the rest would be sold at an estate auction. The funds would be used to renovate and furnish the guest wing as student dormitories, and the family wing would become the nun's quarters. In an expansion on her usual addition to properties of bathing and refreshing chambers. Elizabeth insisted that a modern nursing academy must have adequate basins, water pumps, boilers and proper drainage in as many rooms as possible in order to be as hygienic and sanitary as they would need to be so the facilities would be the best that could be found.

Elizabeth's Uncle Gardiner had a great deal of experience in importing and sales of fine furnishings and heirlooms, so he and Aunt Madeleine, who was from Lambton and was also heavily involved with the project with Elizabeth, and was a patron of the order for some time, would journey north with the nuns immediately, and would assist in the organisation of the estate sale. Uncle and Aunt Gardiner decided to reach out to Mrs Bennet which resulted in great happiness on both sides. The way Mr Bennet and Fanny treated Elizabeth had prevented the Gardiners from enjoying their company for years, but like Elizabeth, they were prepared to start anew. Aunt Madeleine extended an invitation for Kitty to accompany them to Derbyshire. Mrs Bennet was happy to allow Kitty to accept the invitation, knowing her third daughter would be very safe with her brother, and that Elizabeth and Mary would be there for part of the visit. Mr Bennet attempted to overrule the plan. He still held a grudge against Mr Gardiner for his part in Elizabeth's marriage, but Mrs Bennet and the young ladies reverted to their old behaviours, wailing and calculatingly complaining and crying, until the man gave up and went back to his book room.

Elizabeth and Mary agreed that they would journey north in late June, after a brief visit to Hertfordshire, to help with the preparations of the manor. Elizabeth informed the order that the expense of the house and renovations were to be a donation from herself, and that the order could use the funds from the tea fundraiser to support the opening of the school and their various locations. She had sent word already to Kitty and Lydia and the housekeeper at Netherfield that the girls were to choose another 3 gowns each, afternoon, evening, and ball gowns, from the selection she had set aside for them. Kitty could use them for her trip if she, Lydia, and Mrs Bennet could finish them quickly enough, and Lydia could keep busy while Kitty was gone by making hers over.

Shortly after the purchase was complete, after the Mother Superior and the renovation crews were dispatched to the north to take charge of the project, Elizabeth received a surprisingly cordial letter from Mr Darcy, congratulating her on the purchase of the property, having heard of her intentions of a convent and nursing school.

Pemberley,

Derbyshire

Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments or renewal of those feelings which have been so disgusting to you. I write without any goal of paining you, nor humbling myself, by reliving events which, for the happiness of each, cannot be too quickly forgotten; and the effort and discomfort which the formation and the perusal of this letter must occasion, could have been spared, had not my character required it to be written and studied. You will, I hope, pardon the freedom with which I call for your attention; and will understand that I do so only with the knowledge of the kindness and generosity of your character.

After honest contemplation, I realise now that my proposal was indeed most precipitate and inappropriate, given the short duration of our acquaintance. I can only excuse myself upon the grounds that I have never met a lady of society that did not pursue me for my wealth and position, nor one of such education, elegance, goodness, and authenticity such as yourself. Knowing that I could not have remained in London to court you as you deserved, due to the fragile health of my beloved sister, and concern for your safety in the matter of Wickham, I will freely admit that I panicked, and rendered my suit before it could be welcomed. I assure you that I meant no disrespect in the suggestion that you would be safer under my protection. My concern for your safety was genuine.

My words regarding your connections and family were unjust and inappropriate for a man of the integrity which I have always flattered myself to be; I can only use the explanation that I have long felt that my choice of a wife would be hindered by the necessity of selecting a woman whose connections must benefit my sister when she enters society. It was my fear, I admit to my shame, that if your stepmother and two youngest sisters appeared in London society, that my sister's chances at a good marriage might be ruined. Upon further reflection, I have come to understand that your stepmother's position and subsequent reactions are understandable and just, her behaviour not much different from that of many mothers in the ton, and that your sisters are full young and must and indeed seem already to have improved upon education and with maturity.

I have come to the conclusion that I have been the worst of hypocrites, and that my arrogance is beyond anything that is acceptable. Have we not all relatives whose behaviour occasionally causes us to blush, as you once so wisely said? Have I not been embarrassed by learning of your disgraceful treatment by my own aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who treated you so shamefully in Kent? A woman of supposed refinement and breeding, who treats others as little better than chattel, and demands subservience from everyone about her, as if she were The Queen? Is not my own closest and most esteemed friend a man who descends from trade? I have been awakened, madam, to the hypocrisy of my own pretensions and can only thank you for opening my eyes to understanding how insufficient my attentions were to a woman worthy of being pleased. I beg no forgiveness, for I deserve none. I can only extend my sincerest apologies for my behaviour, and your rightfully resulting rejection.

My other purpose in this missive is to congratulate you on your successful purchase of Brightling Abbey, and on your successful fundraiser of the Royal Charitable Tea Project. My sister, Miss Darcy, has followed the story avidly in the papers, and I have been persuaded to order samples of all the available varieties. Her favourite is your own African Herbal Orange Spice variety. Tea is one of the few forms of sustenance she can manage, and she finds your Orange Spice Tea most soothing with a bit of milk and honey. She begs to know if there is yet time to add her own favourite exclusive Pemberley blend to your menu of offerings. I have sent a letter to the Tea House giving permission for it to be included in the project, if possible.

I will not attempt to pretend that I was not your most aggressive competitor in the campaign to purchase Sir Langley's property, but will concede that the feud between our families is of long standing, dating back to my great grandfather. We have no idea what began the disagreement, but I admit that even if you did not purchase the property, Sir Langley still would never have allowed me to do so.

There is much talk in the county that you will not use all of the land, and that some of it may eventually be sold. I will not pressure you in any direction, but I hope that if at any time you do intend to sell any of the land in question, that you will take into consideration that it borders my property, and I would be very interested to obtain it. My sister is very keen to know more about the rumoured convent and nursing school that is purported to be opened in our vicinity. She wishes that she were well so that she could assist in the endeavour in some way. It is my hope that she will be returned to health and will be able to lend her time and resources to this exciting and worthy new cause that you have introduced to our home county, and can only thank you for doing so.

I shall not keep you by extending further pleasantries that may be unwelcome or upsetting to your good self. I will only add, God bless you.

Fitzwilliam Darcy

Elizabeth was in a tumult of emotions upon reading the letter. Surprise, rage, sympathy, relief, even hope ran through her simultaneously. She varied between anticipation upon opening the letter, indignation at his audacity at contacting her, curiosity of his intent, rage as she recalled his insults to her family, sympathy for the gentleman's obviously damaged sentiments, concern for his poor, unwell sister, relief that it seemed that their acquaintance may be cordial if they met while she visited Derbyshire, hopeful that perhaps the gentleman may learn to amend his appalling address.

In no fit state to be in company or endure her sister's scrutiny, Elizabeth retired to her suite for the rest of the day, pacing and reading the letter over and over for much of the evening. The next morning Elizabeth was still in no fit state for her morning ride. Only a long brisk walk would do for her state of mind. She rose with the dawn, dressing and going below stairs to seek the footman Andrew and Miss Carmichael, and bid them to disregard her abandonment of her usual routine, and accompany her to Hyde Park on foot.

Once in the park, she walked as briskly and determinedly as her skirts would allow as she fretted over her feelings about the letter. In this perturbed state of mind, with thoughts that could rest upon nothing, she walked on. But it would not do; eventually the letter was unfolded again, and collecting herself as well as she could, she rested upon a bench and again began the mortifying perusal of Mr Darcy's account of his behaviour.

When she came to that part of the letter in which the behaviour of her family was mentioned, his concern for his sister's reputation could not have made a stronger impression on his mind than on hers. Had she not worried and fretted herself silly regarding the behaviour of Mrs Bennet and her youngest sisters, fearing that the behaviour of one may ruin them all before she might intervene? Was it so unbelievable that Mr Darcy had seen and noted the same, and worried for his own sister? Another consideration was that if she had noticed how exposed and endangered she and her family were regarding Lieutenant Wickham, then could she truly hold a grudge against Mr Darcy for noting the risk to her safety as well? The problem, she mused, was that everything that is thought or even true does not always need to be said out loud. Mr Darcy had not only said what was better kept silent, but also said all of it at the most inopportune moment.

After wandering the park for two hours, giving way to every variety of thought, re-considering events, determining probabilities, and reconciling herself, as well as she could, to let matters lie, fatigue and a recollection of her long absence made her at length turn toward home. She apologised to Andrew and Miss Carmichael for keeping them out so long and making them miss their breakfast, promising them the rest of the morning off and a meal upon their return.

As she made her way back through the park, a carriage approached and stopped abruptly. Two men leaped off the back with swords, engaging her servants in battle, as a third man leaped from the vehicle. Mr Wickham brandished a blade at Elizabeth. "Well, look who it is. I have been waiting for the opportunity to make your acquaintance again, Lady Astley. Into the carriage now, I do not want to harm you. Yet…"

"Not bloody likely!" Elizabeth swore as she ducked away from the man.

"My lady, behind you!" shouted Miss Carmichael from beyond the carriage where she was fighting fiercely with a hulk of a man twice her size.

There was no time for Elizabeth to turn to meet the threat. A hood came down over her head, and her arms were pinned behind her. She was pitched forward into the carriage whereupon her temple struck something as she landed, and she lost consciousness.