If I reveal them now, I would ask you to be Discreet, for I confess I feel sorry for your Sister Lizzy, who, as we all know, languish’d after Mr. Wickham before transferring her Affections to Mr. D, & even now may cherish the vain Hope of renewing her Tyes with the said Mr. W, since All is Over between her & Mr. D (I am persuaded that it was for this Reason that she so strongly oppos’d your going to Brighton—she must have been Desperate to make the Trip herself, and eaten up with Jealousy at your being Mrs. Forster’s Preferr’d One!).
Still, for Friendship’s Sake, I shall tell you the whole Story, tho’ you must make Mr. Wickham promise faithfully to say Nothing of this to the other Officers. Burn this when you have read it!
It happen’d thus: the Day before the Gentlemen were due to depart, we was invited up to Rosings to drink Tea for the last time. Lizzy cry’d off—she had the Headache, she said. I was sent up with one of Hooper’s Female Pills, and found her pale, heavy-eyed and ill—tho’ it was a Sickness of the Heart, not the Body, as I realiz’d afterwards. Wondering what had come between the Lovers, I accompanied Charlotte and Mr. Collins through the Park to Rosings. No sooner had they arriv’d, and Charlotte made her friend’s Excuses, than Mr. D, with a muttered Apology, left the room. Soon I heard the sound of horse’s Hooves on the Drive. No Body else appear’d to observe it. She has cast her Net, and he has gone to her! We staid a full two Hours at Rosings, and there was still no sign of his Return when we left.
On returning to the Parsonage, the first Thing I saw was a beaver Hat on the hall Table. I was ecstatic: He is still here, alone with her: they must be Engag’d!! Mr. C noticed nothing, but Charlotte observ’d it, & straightway called for Hannah: has Miss E got a visitor? O, says Hannah, it was Mr. Darcy. He left an Hour since without his Hat, and Miss E has retir’d for the Night. I long’d for an explanation, but Charlotte stuffily refrain’d from asking for any further Details. On retiring to my Chamber I immediately call’d for Hannah to come and unbutton my Gown, hoping for News. She told me that she had let him in and shewn him into the Parlour, where Lizzy was. She then left them together, but, she said, as she had sworn to supply me with all possible Information, she did not Scruple to listen at the Door. She miss’d Much, but she did hear him say “I love you!!” Lizzy’s Reply was spoken so quietly that she could not catch any of it. Then there was a long Silence, during which she conjectured that they were Embracing. But then Matters seemed to go rapidly Awry. She heard him say “Is this all the Reply I am to get?” Shortly afterwards, Mr. D rush’d out, almost knocking Hannah aside as she knelt by the Door. He left in a Whirlwind, forgetting to Tip the Boy who held his Horse!!
I woke at Dawn, and could hear a sound of muffled Weeping from Lizzy’s chamber next door. I wonder’d whether to go in, but finally concluded that your Sister would be most embarrassed at her Secret’s being discover’d, & so refrain’d.
Lizzy ran out alone before Breakfast, returning at least two Hours later, flushed and unhappy. She had certainly been crying. Meanwhile, her Lover had call’d to bid her Farewell, but, alack, they Miss’d each other. A few days dragg’d by, ’til we too left the County. In the carriage, Lizzy was dull & silent—I left her briefly in the Inn Parlour at Bromley, & return’d to see her quickly Stuffing a Letter into her Reticule, Tears in her Eyes.
That is all I have to tell—but it surely explains your Sister’s shocking Mood since she return’d from Hunsford.
Pray tell No Body of this save Mr. Wickham—be Discretion itself!
Your Friend,
M. Lucas
——
To: Mrs. George Smith,
(Address as yet unknown)
July 24th
I will keep this Letter till I have a Direction for you.
I have just heard the News. Eloped! With Mr. Wickham!! I almost fainted!!! Our Cook met your Mrs. Hill in the Butcher’s at Meryton, who told her the Aweful Truth. Cook went straight to Mamma. You cannot imagine the Turmoil here in Hertfordshire. I have not seen Kitty for a week—your Papa is away looking for you in London (are you really in the Great Metropolis?), and the rest of your Family is confin’d to the House. Cook reports that your Mother screams constantly and may have a Seizure at any moment. My Mamma whispers about you all the time. Mrs. Long and Mrs. Yates are always in the House; in fact the whole Neighbourhood is in an Uproar. Woe is me, Alas! You are Undone, and I grieve with all my Heart.
I am having the greatest Difficulty making sure I am alone on my Visits to the Post Office to see if a Letter has come. As Kitty is not allowed out of your House, I have to go with Sophy, and leave her with Jemima Morris while I pretend to visit the Library. So far I have been lucky, & No Body has seen me entering or leaving the Post Office. Also, I have had to save my Pin-Money, to pay for your Letter—if it ever comes.
Later
Your Letter finally arriv’d at the Post Office. Still Unmarried—can this really be true? I know not what to think. You are so Bold! To be alone with a Man, all the Time, Day & Night! My one Relief amid my Torment is that you are in high Spirits. I was imagining you chain’d in a Dungeon by your cruel Ravisher, and instead I find that you are enjoying the Pleasures of London! Your description of the Vauxhall Gardens makes them sound so alluring! O, how can you? When Mamma and Every Body insist that you are Lost!!!
Now that I have your Direction, I will send this Letter off to THE POST OFFICE, LONG ACRE, the moment I can escape from the House. Please write again as soon as you can & tell me that you are Married. If your Family knew that I had an Address for you, they would never forgive me for conniving with you to conceal your Whereabouts.
Written in the greatest Perturbation,
Your anxious Friend,
Maria Lucas
——
To: The Same,
Care Of E. Gardiner, Esq.,
9 Gracechurch Street,
London
August 6th
My dear, dear Lydia,
You cannot imagine what a Relief it has been to receive your Letter. So you are definitely to Marry in less than two Weeks’ time! It is too Good to be True. Mamma said … Oh, well, Mammas do have absurd Ideas. The silver tambour’d Muslin must be charming. How I wish I could be with you on the Great Day!! But it is a Comfort that we will see you in Hertfordshire shortly.
I am astonish’d to hear that Mr. Darcy has arrang’d your Wedding—and paid for it too! What a sly Puss your sister Lizzy is! The Lovers’ Tiff between her and Mr. D must be over, & She communicating with him in Secret, without telling Any One! I would have expected Kitty to have found out, and to have told me how it came about—but of course I rarely get to see Kitty these Days, as she has been confin’d to the House for Weeks & Weeks. I hear that she has been knitting a little Coat to cover poor Pug’s bald Patch.
You are right: it would be a great Thing for your Family if Lizzy & Mr. D were to marry, and good for you to have a very rich Sister. Let us hope that it will soon be arrang’d—but I promise faithfully to keep this News a Secret!
Your devoted Friend,
Maria Lucas
——
To: Mrs. Ensign Wickham,
The Royal Northumberland Fusiliers,
Newcastle.
September 4th
My dear Lydia,
I have to report a Catastrofe! Mamma discover’d me by the Kitchen Range, privily perusing your last Letter once more before consigning it to the Flames! She insisted on seeing it. I try’d to shew her only the last Page, but she snatch’d it from my Hands, and read the Whole, including the Passage where you recall’d how Mr. Darcy arranged your Marriage, and even paid your Marriage Portion! So Mamma now knows All! She hastened to tell Papa. They are persuaded that Mr. Darcy must have done it for Lizzy’s sake, and that it is a Matter of Days before their Betrothal is announc’d. Thank Goodness, she says she will not speak of it to your Mamma. She could not endure “More of that Mrs. Bennet’s Boasting. Time enough when the Deed is done.” So your Mamma remains in Ignorance! But mine
is writing to Charlotte to tell her the News, though I begg’d her not to.
Woe is me, alas! I have, all unwittingly, betray’d your Trust—and after you swore me to Secrecy—but I was a helpless Pawn in the cruel Fangs of Destiny—though I confess that I should have Burnt your Letter weeks ago. And the worst thing is that I cannot Burn it now, because Mamma has lock’d it away in her Desk.
When I reminded Mamma that when you were here you invited me to visit you in Newcastle, she rudely brush’d me aside, saying “I have more important Matters to attend to, Child.” Child! It is SO unfair! Then she added, “Don’t imagine that you will ever be making the Journey to Newcastle, miss. That Connexion is Over.” When I asked her why, she had the Impertinence to say that you were Most Unsuitable! I am almost minded to escape to Meryton, catch the Stage, and make the Journey Northwards on my own!
Your contrite Friend,
Maria Lucas
——
To: Mrs. Ensign Wickham,
Royal Northumberland Regiment,
Newcastle.
September 16th
My dear Lydia,
Kitty has asked me to tell you the Great News! Mr. D’s Aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, came this morning to Longbourn, and sought out Lizzy. They had a long Private Talk. She must have come to arrange the Marriage—clearly it is a matter of days before the Engagement is announc’d betw. your Sister and Mr. D!! We met your Sisters outside the Milliner’s at Meryton, and Kitty managed to draw me Aside to tell me. She begg’d me to write to you straight, as your Mamma reads every Letter sent to you from Longbourn, before adding a few words at the End. Kitty says she found Lady Catherine even more haughty and discourteous than her Nephew, and exclaim’d that you will be allied to a monstrous proud Dynasty. I believe however that she is Mistaken: Lady Catherine is all Condescension, and her Manner merely reflects her elevated Position in Society.
Yours in haste,
Maria Lucas
——
To: The Same
September 25th
My dear Lydia,
Alas! A most disappointing Turn of Events has plung’d your poor Sister into the most wretched Dejection.
We was still in the Dining-Parlour yesterday morning when Kitty was announc’d. She was out of Breath and red in the Face, & kept making despairing Signs at me, but Mamma notic’d Nothing, & kept her chatting for an Age, asking about Jane’s Bride Clothes. When we finally made our Escape, we were scarce from the Room when Kitty hiss’d in my ear that she had lur’d them out for a Walk and then—left them ALONE!!
“Left whom?”
“Why, Mr. Darcy and Lizzy, of course! We was out on a Walk together, just the Three of us. I waited ’til we was at the bottom of your Drive, pretended I had Something important to tell you, and left them Unchaperon’d! Come on, let’s go and see!”
We rac’d out—I didn’t even stop to put on my Bonnet. We ran through Banfield Wood, and, when we were nearly at the Road, sure enough, there they were! And I had not even known that he was here in Hertfordshire! They had scarcely gone a hundred Paces since Kitty left them—they were standing in the Middle of the Road, she talking and he listening. I whisper’d to Kitty that it seem’d woefully Unromantic—no passionate Embrace, and she unlike to swoon into his Arms, though she did look rather pink in the Face. Finally she stopt her Chatter, and they walk’d off slowly. They were quite separate—she did not even take his Arm. Kitty had to acknowledge that their Demeanour gave no Hint of Love. What a Pity that we was too far away to catch what they said.…
All is hopeless. The Best that one can say for them is that they shew fewer Signs of Hostility, so the worst of the Lovers’ Tiff is over. But she will never bring him up to Scratch now. No Happy Ending is in the Offing.
Is not it the saddest end to a Love Story? He, resolv’d to seek Happiness Elsewhere, she condemn’d to a lonely Life as an Old Maid! But I have just notic’d a nasty Rip in my second-best Muslin. It must have been running through the Woods.
Your devoted friend,
Maria Lucas
——
To: The Same
October 15th
My dear Lydia,
Thank you for your three Letters. I am so sorry that I have been unable to receive them all, as my Pin-Money is all gone, and Mamma gave me the choice between paying for the Postage on them and a new Pelisse for the Great Occasion; she relented only with the last one. I hope this finds you Well, and regret to hear that the Weather in Newcastle is proving so Nasty. Here we are enjoying a fine Autumn, and your Mamma plans to decorate the outside as well as the inside of the Church. She says she will use Autumn Flowers. I would prefer Blooms from the Glasshouse for my Marriage, though naturally I didn’t say so. How I wish you could be here! But of course if Ensign Wickham cannot be spar’d from his Regiment, your Place is by his Side. You will have been told All in your Family’s Letters! Do not you agree that it is the strangest Turn of Events? I can still scarcely believe it.
Mamma is in such a Flutter! She is cross and snappish, and returns from visiting Mrs. Bennet complaining of “Arrogance” & “Boastfulness.” Then she fusses about her Toilette, and nothing seems good enough. She is to wear her best puce Gown, and has bought a new yellow paisley Shawl, and Mrs. Culpeper is making her a new Bonnet in a matching Hue. Mamma wishes it to be trimm’d with yellow Roses and Ears of ripe Corn—in October!—& was outrag’d when Mrs. Culpeper suggested Hops instead. Charlotte and Mr. Collins are arriving two days before the Great Day. Charlotte writes that Lady Catherine try’d to stop them coming, declaring that a Marriage between Mr. Darcy and Lizzy was an Abomination.
Yesterday, when we call’d on your Mamma, Lizzy beckon’d me out of the Room, much to my Surprize. “Was not it you who started the Rumour that Mr. Darcy and I were secretly engag’d?” says she.
I was quite frighten’d, and mumbl’d I know not what.
“When the Story first came out, I was Mortify’d. But as Time has passed, I have concluded that the Rumour was in part responsible for our Happiness. So you see I have you to thank for this joyful Outcome. When Kitty comes to visit us at Pemberley, you shall be of the Party.” She kiss’d me, and gave me the prettiest gold Chain with seed Pearls woven in it. I shall wear it to the Wedding.
I always thought your Sister Lizzy was the least friendly of your oldest Sisters. She quite scared me when we staid together at Hunsford. But now I see how wrong I was. What Fun we shall have when we visit Pemberley together—she will surely invite you and your dear Mr. W as well!
While I am there, who knows, I may meet the young Gentleman of Fortune who is destin’d to become my Husband! In fact, I am sure I will—it is written in my Stars!!
Your affectionate Friend,
Maria Lucas
MAYA SLATER gave up her career lecturing in French literature at London University to write fiction. The Private Diary of Mr. Darcy (published in the U.K. as Mr Darcy’s Diary) is her first novel. As an academic, she published six books, including a verse translation of Molière’s plays (Oxford World Classics), wrote many articles and papers, and lectured on four continents. She reviews for The Times Literary Supplement. She is married with two daughters and a tortoiseshell cat, and lives in London in a Victorian villa.
www.mayaslater.com
Cathy Fullerton trudged behind the tall woman in the dull black dress, wondering if people still wore bombazine. She could hear echoes of the group in the great hall and could see a glimmer of light from the end of the hallway. She’d lost count of the number of turns she’d made, following the black-clad housekeeper, and she couldn’t remember when the walls had stopped being plaster covered with flocked wallpaper and turned into a dampish sort of rock. Where were the lights? And where the heck was her room?
When she had made her reservation over two months ago, staying in a converted abbey sounded like a wonderfully Gothic get-away, and a perfect escape from a life that had become unaccountably dreary after the end of her latest relationship. She hadn�
��t expected it to be quite this Gothic.
Cathy cleared her throat. “Um, Miss …?”
The figure in front of her barely broke stride. “Just call me Dorothy, ma’am.”
Ma’am? Cathy was just 29 years old and this woman must be at least 104. “Just call me Catherine,” she replied, feeling crankier by the minute. “And while you’re calling me Catherine, can you please tell me where we’re going?”
“To your room, Miss Catherine.” The woman gestured vaguely toward another dimly lit corridor.
“May I ask … Dorothy … why everyone else appears to be staying in the main part of the building? You know, the part with wallpaper and electricity.” And the bar, she added under her breath. “And I am, well, here.”
“Certainly ma’am.” Dorothy stopped in front of a heavy wooden door banded with iron and fumbled with a set of keys fastened at her waist that Catherine had not noticed as they were marching through the building. “You specifically reserved the Radcliffe Suite.”
“I did?” Cathy peered at the plaque on the door, which definitely had something inscribed on it. Possibly Radcliffe. She shrugged. It had been two months. Perhaps she had, although she couldn’t remember anything on the website quite like this.
Dorothy produced a heavy iron key, completely unlike the plastic cards Cathy had seen other guests receiving at the front desk, and fitted it into the equally heavy iron lock in the door.
“Is that my key?” Cathy pictured lugging eight ounces of metal around with her in a bag already weighed down by books, makeup, and various electronic gadgets.
“Strictly speaking, ma’am, it’s our key.” As Dorothy turned her back to unlock the door, Cathy rolled her eyes. This woman was straight out of The Mysteries of Udolpho or central casting. She was surprised there wasn’t a raven perched on her shoulder. Dorothy turned the key, and Cathy winced as it grated against the tumblers.
“Well, yes, of course it’s your key. What I meant is, will I need to carry that with me to get back into this room?” This holiday was seeming like less and less of a good idea, although perhaps it was just the room.
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