He was insolent and impertinent, as you can imagine, and he soon returned to his favourite subject, the living of Kympton. He had the audacity to tell me that if I honoured my late father’s wishes, he would be happy to become a clergyman, and as a clergyman he would take Miss Lydia to wife.
I replied in short order that the living had been given to Mark Haydock, an excellent man of intelligence and sound common sense, who was in robust health and likely to hold the position until he was ninety, and that therefore the living was no longer available.
He hung out for as long as he could, but when he saw that I was immovable on the subject, he started to bargain more rationally. I had little inclination to bargain with him, God knows! but I promised to pay his debts and, furthermore, give him something to live on. He at last agreed, for he knew that his only choice was to face his creditors: I left him in no doubt that if he did not marry Miss Lydia, then I would give them his address. With no money to fly, he was caught.
My next step was to visit Elizabeth’s uncle and tell him what had been arranged. He was surprised, and at first refused to let me help in any way. But a thoughtful look gradually crept over his face and I could see that he guessed I had done it for Elizabeth’s sake.
From that moment on, he had no more objection to make. He agreed to say nothing of my involvement to anyone, and he further agreed to ask Mr Bennet to make a small contribution to the affair, in order to convince Mr Bennet that matters were not so bad and to make him feel that he is, himself, setting matters to rights.
I, of course, will bear the burden of Wickham’s debts.
As for Wickham, he will quit the militia, where he is no longer welcome and where Lydia’s disgrace is known, and he will go into the regulars. I have undertaken to help him acquire an ensigncy in the north. Lydia will now stay with her uncle until the wedding takes place. It cannot be until September because the banns must be read, but once it is done, Lydia and Wickham will go north and, I very much hope, out of my life for good.
It is a bad business, but I am thankful it is no worse.
I have sworn Mr Gardiner to secrecy. I do not want Elizabeth to know what I have done. She would be grateful and I do not want her gratitude, I want her love. I have done little enough to earn it but I must win it, for nothing else will make me happy.
Darcy
Mrs Bennet to Mrs Gardiner
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
August 19, ten o’clock
Sister! What a fortunate day this is! I knew that Lydia would be married if only she could go to Brighton, and see, she is! Only sixteen! Lucky, lucky Lydia, to be marrying such a handsome man! And to be married before all her sisters! Tell her she must have the finest muslins from Grafton House and to send the bills to her father. And she must have a new carriage. I believe there are some very good carriage makers in town. There are one or two houses within a few miles of Longbourn which I think might suit her. Haye-Park might do, if the Gouldings would quit it, or the great house at Stoke, if the drawing room were larger; but Ashworth is too far off! I could not bear to have her ten miles from me; and as for Purvis Lodge, the attics are dreadful. But we will find somewhere for her before very long.
I will include a note for my own dear girl; pray give it to her for me.
Your affectionate sister,
Janet
Mrs Bennet to Miss Lydia Bennet
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
August 19, eleven o’clock
My dear Lydia!
Happy was the day you went to Brighton! If I had had my way, we would have all gone, and I dare say all of your sisters would have found husbands by now, but I was overruled. Is it any wonder I am a martyr to my nerves? But at least one of my daughters has found herself a husband, and at only sixteen! Clever, clever Lydia! What fun you will have, showing your ring off to everyone in Meryton. I was wild to come down to London to be with you but your father has forbidden me to leave the house. He says your aunt and uncle will do everything that is necessary, but what is an aunt to a mother? I wanted to help you buy your wedding clothes but your father is being most disagreeable and he has told me he will not give you a shilling. It is fortunate, then, that your mother has some small income of her own, and here it is, dear Lydia, everything I have. You must go and buy yourself some new clothes. To be sure, there is not enough time to buy everything I would wish for you, but something can be done. You must have a new dress and a new bonnet, and do not forget to buy a new pair of gloves and a fan.
Oh, how I am looking forward to seeing you again and calling you Mrs Wickham! How green everyone hereabouts will be. You can have no notion of how spiteful they have been. Lady Lucas has been exceedingly unpleasant, though I put that all down to jealousy because Mr Collins is not as handsome as dear Wickham, and Mr Collins does not have a blue coat.
I am going out now to spread the news of your engagement. It is perhaps a good thing I am to remain in Meryton, to be sure, for I am certain that no one can do that as well as your own dear mother.
Mama
Miss Lydia Bennet to Mrs Bennet
Gracechurch Street, London,
August 20
My dear Mama,
Lord! How I laughed when I got your letter. I wish you could come to London, how happy we would be. My aunt and uncle are being horrid unpleasant and they will not allow me to set foot out of the door, let alone buy any new wedding clothes. My aunt preaches and sermonizes all the time, indeed, she is almost as bad as Mary; however, I do not listen to one word in ten, for as you might imagine I am busy thinking of my dear Wickham. I would marry him tomorrow but the banns have to be read and the ceremony cannot therefore be held until the first of September. We are to be married at the church of St. Clement’s. I am quite wild for it as you can imagine. How I am to pass the time until then I do not know, since my aunt and uncle never let me have any fun. The Little Theatre is open and I am wild to go; do write to my aunt, Mama, and tell her to take me.
Tell my sisters to write to me, too. They must take the opportunity of addressing me as Miss Lydia Bennet for the last time: before very long I will be signing myself
Lydia Wickham!
Miss Mary Bennet to Miss Lucy Sotherton
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
August 22
Most noble Friend,
I know you will give thanks with me when you learn that the worst disaster has been averted and that my sister Lydia will now wed her vile seducer, George Wickham. I had thought that such enforced marriages happened only on the Continent. Though I know from my reading—our reading, dear Lucy—that young women are frequently seduced in Italy, and then chained up in dungeons beneath sinister castles, I never expected to encounter it here in England (though without the chains), and we must hope (since Gracechurch Street is a respectable establishment) without the dungeon.
It only shows what dangers are all around us. We must be on our guard, you and I, and make sure that no seducers charm us with their sweet words, robbing us of our virtue—our most treasured possession. Mr Shackleton agrees with me. He says that seducers are more common than is usually supposed and that he has his doubts about Alfred Courtney. I was surprised, as Mr Courtney has always been a pleasant young man—indeed, he was good enough to compliment me on my playing the other evening—but Mr Shackleton assures me there are Rumours. He has warned me to preserve a stoical silence in the presence of the man. I think, after my sister’s unfortunate experiences, I will follow his advice.
It is lucky that I already have some experience of stoical silence, or else nothing would have enabled me to remain quiet when my mother heard the news that Lydia was to be married. She was in transports of delight, saying that she longed to see Lydia again, that Lydia and Wickham must come to stay as soon as they are married, and what fun it would be to introduce her to all the neighbourhood as Mrs Wickham.
Papa took a more rational view of the matter and said that he would never let Kitty or me out of his sight, that he would not rew
ard Lydia’s impudence by recognising the marriage and that she should never again set foot in the house. An argument ensued and Papa vowed that he would not be moved on the subject. But Mama prevailed and Lydia and Wickham are to visit us.
Your true sister—for you are more surely my sister than the fallen woman who is Lydia,
Mary
Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Miss Susan Sotherton
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
August 23
Dear Susan,
I am sure you will have heard by now of our troubles, for Mr Collins could have learnt of them from no one but Charlotte, and as she knows of them she has certainly told you. He wrote Papa a very stupid letter; however, he is a very stupid man and I expected no better.
Forgive me, I am out of sorts this morning. I meant to write and send you all my love, for this is the last time I will be able to write to you as Miss Sotherton; by this time next week you will be Mrs Wainwright. And not long afterwards, Lydia will be Mrs Wickham.
I cannot bear it. The more I think about it, the worse it seems, not only for Lydia but for me.
Oh, Susan! My confusion about Mr Darcy is growing daily. If only I could go back to thinking him rude and above himself, how happy I would be. If only I could tease him and laugh at him and pay him back for slighting my charms! If only he had never proposed to me, or written me that letter: for it was the letter which forced me to see him as a very different man. If only I had not met him again in Derbyshire…but you do not know about my visit to Lambton, and how everything there changed things.
You know that I was going to Derbyshire with my aunt and uncle. Once there, my aunt had a wish to see Pemberley, for as you know she grew up in the neighbourhood, and once I had discovered that Mr Darcy was not at home, I decided I could visit his estate without ill effect. It would have looked very odd if I had refused to go, and indeed, I will admit that I was curious to see a place about which I had heard so much.
Susan, it is the most beautiful estate you ever saw. Nothing vulgar or ostentatious, but everything has been done to make it the loveliest place in England. The park contains a variety of grounds and as we drove in at the lodge, we found ourselves travelling first through a wood, the prettiest wood you have ever seen, then ascending for half a mile before finding ourselves at the top of an eminence. The trees gave way to open ground and my eye was immediately caught by Pemberley House, which was situated on the opposite side of the valley, beyond a meandering stream. It was basking in the sunlight and I found myself thinking, Of all this I might have been mistress!
But then I reminded myself of Mr Darcy’s feelings towards my family and I knew my aunt and uncle would not have been welcome, and so I ceased to regret it as a home, but yet to admire it as a splendid residence.
We drove on, crossing a bridge and then rolling to a halt by the front door. We were greeted by the housekeeper, who is used to showing people around the house, and I discovered that, inside as well as out, it is the most charming place. There are sweeping views from every window and the most elegant wallpapers and furnishings decorate the rooms.
When we had seen all of the house that was open to general view, we were passed over to the gardener, who led us towards the river. I stopped to look back at the house, and my aunt and uncle looked back also, wondering as to the date of the building, when suddenly Mr Darcy appeared round the corner of the house! I could not believe it. I thought at first he must be an apparition but I quickly realised that he was real. He was coming from the direction of the stables and it was apparent that he had come home unexpectedly.
I wished the ground would open and swallow me up. I felt a wave of humiliation and I could not keep a blush from spreading over my face. I could not bear him to think that I had sought him out deliberately. I wanted to tell him that I was there by accident, at the wish of my aunt and uncle, and that we believed he was from home. But I was too embarrassed to speak, let alone cross the twenty yards that stretched out between us, and so I turned away with my feelings in a whirl.
You may imagine my horror when I heard his footsteps approaching, and my embarrassment when I received his compliments. I scarcely dared lift my eyes to his face, and I know not what answer I made to his enquiries after my family.
I was dumbfounded by the change in his manner. Gone was his pride, his haughtiness and his arrogance. To my astonishment he was speaking to me in the most affable manner; indeed, it seemed as though he were putting himself out to please me, and to set me at my ease.
Presently he fell silent and then, after standing a few moments without saying a word, he took his leave. My aunt and uncle joined me, but I was so overcome by my own feelings that I did not hear a word they said. I was overcome with shame and vexation, certain that he would think I had deliberately thrown myself in his way again.
And yet he had not met me with derision or disgust. He had met me with great civility. I could not make him out.
We walked on round the lake, but yet my thoughts were all fixed on the one spot of Pemberley House where Mr Darcy might be. I longed to know what was passing in his mind, and whether, in defiance of everything, he still held me dear.
It seemed that he must, for he soon joined us again and spoke to my aunt and uncle in the most affable manner. He even invited my uncle to go fishing with him! And, what is more, he asked if he might be allowed to introduce his sister to me.
My aunt and uncle were curious at the sight of so much attention, but I did not feel I could enlighten them. I scarcely knew what his attentions meant myself.
The next day, he brought his sister to see me at the inn where we were staying, and she is the sweetest, most charming girl imaginable—not at all the proud young woman Mr Wickham described.
He brought someone else, too: Mr Bingley. And oh, Susan! Say nothing of this to anyone, in case I am mistaken, but I believe he still has feelings for Jane. In fact, if Mr Darcy gives his approval, I believe Mr Bingley will return to Netherfield and seek Jane out again.
But will Mr Darcy give his approval? I thought so, because he was very changed, and spoke well of her and did not discourage Mr Bingley from speaking of her.
Things were going very well…he was attentive, charming, generous, kind…and then Lydia ran away with Wickham! Even worse, I told him! I could not help it. The letter arrived just before Mr Darcy entered the room and I was so horrified that I could not conceal my distress. For Lydia’s elopement to happen at such a moment, when I had just acknowledged to myself that Mr Darcy was the one man in the world I could be prevailed upon to marry, was cruel indeed.
I had thought it was all over; that I had no chance with him; that, having offered me his hand once he would not do so again. But then the meeting at Pemberley and his evident efforts to please aroused hope in my breast and made me hope that things had changed…
But now those hopes are broken before they were ever fully formed. To marry me? When Lydia has disgraced herself and the rest of the family, thereby justifying everything he said to me about my family: my sisters’ behaviour and my father’s lack of any kind of control? No, it is impossible. And even more impossible, because if he married me, he would be related to Wickham, his worst enemy. It is unthinkable.
And yet I do think of it, Susan, all the time. I remember every word spoken between us. I remember his looks, his expression, his voice, the touch of his hand.
I cannot forget.
But I must.
I must.
But I have been writing only of myself. What of you? Tell me of more pleasant things. Give me all your news. Distract my thoughts. Make me forget about Mr Darcy, and make me cease to regret everything I have lost, for it is a comfort to me, at least, that you, dear Susan, are happy.
Lizzy
Miss Susan Sotherton to Miss Elizabeth Bennet
Bath, August 24
My poor Lizzy,
How I feel for you. I wish that everyone could be as happy as I. Only a few more days and I marry my dear Wainwright, and
I wish with all my heart that you could marry your Mr Darcy. I have never heard you talk about a man in this way before, and you are too sensible to think such things about a man unless they are true. I believe you are in love with him and I will hope for some miracle which might yet unite you.
You are right when you say that I had already heard about Lydia’s escapade from Charlotte, but do not judge her too harshly. She did not tell Mr Collins deliberately, rather she was reading a letter from her mama when Mr Collins was in the room and could not help exclaiming over the news, and then she could not keep it from him. I am sure she would have kept your confidence otherwise.
And now I must go, there is time for no more; Mama is calling me and I must see to the final preparations for my wedding. I will write to you again as soon as I can, but I must now sign myself for the last time,
Susan Sotherton
SEPTEMBER
Colonel Fitzwilliam to Mr Darcy
Fitzwilliam House, London,
September 2
Darcy, you must be relieved that Wickham is safely married and the whole business is over with. What are your intentions now? Are you planning to visit Hertfordshire? You mentioned something about revealing the truth to Bingley; that you suspect Miss Bennet has feelings for him, but what of your own feelings? Are you going to speak to Miss Elizabeth?
I think she would make a worthy mistress of Pemberley.
Henry
Miss Caroline Bingley to Mrs Bingley
Pemberley, Derbyshire,
September 3
Greetings and felicitations, dearest Mama!
It is raining today and I am full of ennui. Mr Darcy left us a few days ago to attend to business in London. I cannot think what he finds to do in London at this time of year. However, he insisted he must go and that no one could conduct the business for him.