Feeling very uncomfortable to be addressed in this way so soon after her disappointment, Lizzy once again felt the need to be alone with her thoughts. “Excuse me, Mama, but I feel I must get some fresh air and exercise this morning. I think I shall take a walk.”
“Lizzy, are you going into town? Kitty and I will join you if you are!” said Lydia.
“No, I am not going to town. I will walk toward Charlotte’s.”
“Never mind then. We only want to go to town to invite Denny and Sanderson to tea this afternoon.”
Lizzy hurriedly left the house before anything or anyone else threatened to intrude on the solitude she yearned for. On her way to her friend’s house, she took a slight detour to that quiet place in the woods where she could sit and think without the disorderly goings on of Longbourn distracting her. She lightly brushed off the top of the stump before sitting down. She raised her eyes upwards to look at the swaying tree branches when she spotted something tucked into the knothole of the tree in front of her. She stood and retrieved the letter. Lizzy looked all about her and walked in a circle around the nearby trees. “Hello,” she called, in case the letter writer was nearby.
It was sealed with a lovely red rose and on the reverse side it said: To whomever happens to find this.
Intrigued, Lizzy looked around once again, and then sat in her usual spot to begin reading the letter.
Good Day,
I know not into whose hands this letter will find itself, but I had a strong desire to write it nonetheless. As a man, it is not the natural course to admit to such things as I will do in this communication. However, I find myself perplexed by events that have transpired in my life and wish to lay them out before one who is neither an obliging friend nor an adversary. Perhaps someone unconnected to me may have beneficial insight into a situation to which I am too close.
My life has known ups and downs, the low points being the deaths of those closest to me, followed by almost losing my dear sister, then but fifteen years old, to the unscrupulous hands of a scoundrel. But alas, that disaster was diverted, and for a time, all remained as peaceful as could be expected. My sister still suffers from his actions, and it pains me to see her unsure of herself. Time will lesson her suffering, but can she regain what she once possessed? Can the heart always mend completely from such a blow? I am questioning these. I do not want her to stay discontent and unsatisfied with life.
It is when we find ourselves without any control over the circumstances that we begin to feel hopeless. Matters of the heart can be excruciating to endure.
With pride I acknowledge that I am a man of good repute and keeping it so has always been of utmost importance to me. At the same time, exposing the scoundrel would result in further pain to the one so dear to me. The embarrassment from such a revelation would only add to her injury.
So I find what further weighs upon my mind has to do with the very cause for pride I spoke of. Despite my efforts, my good name has been sullied by none other than the above mentioned scoundrel himself, no doubt for the sake of revenge. Can I prevent bitterness from finding its way into my deepest parts when one with lack of decency walks about without concern or conscience? Is there hope for our hearts to heal?
Please reply if you would. Any words of advice would be appreciated. Be so kind as to leave your reply in the same knot hole where you found mine. I am not the sort of man to write unknown recipients, but I have hope this finds its way, somehow, into the hands of a friend.
Yours Truly
Later that evening, in her quiet room, Elizabeth read the letter again. Somehow, though her situation was dissimilar to that of the writer, she recognized the similarities that they shared. She had not lost those closest to her in death, but she had lost the man who she had hoped would be the closest anyone ever had been to her. Her own situation also was one she had no control over. It was due to her lack of fortune, her lack of having a brother to inherit Longbourn, Mr. Darcy’s selfish conduct towards Wickham. She was helpless to change a single circumstance. She too felt the disgust towards those who had ruined others. She too felt bitterness might overtake her permanently. Somehow, it made her feel better to know there was at least one person in the world who knew how she felt. She decided to keep the letter and its contents confidential.
Elizabeth had a fitful sleep, with her mind not seeming to be able to stop playing the recent events over and over again in her head. She thought of Mr. Wickham and of what their life together would have been like. There would have been much love between them, obviously, but there would also have been hardship, to be sure. Common sense and observation told her that the strain of a tight pocketbook can lead to a strained relationship between those involved. Mr. Wickham would soon be leaving the area and might get reassigned again and again as the years went by. Stranded in a far off location with no money when children came could cause heartache of the worst kind. She had with pity witnessed the very conditions among the poorest of London when visiting her aunt and uncle. And what if her husband went off to war? What if he were wounded? Could she and her children make it on their own?
It appeared that Jane was going to make a fine match with Mr. Bingley, but Lizzy would never wish to be an added burden to her sister. Her one chance at true love had passed her by, and she must resign herself to that fact, without allowing bitterness to build within her heart. She would never marry, but she would always have Jane near her. The strongest of sisterly bonds and a close friendship like they shared was more than most enjoyed in a lifetime. Yes, she must look at what good things life still held and wait for happiness to return. Her heart went out to the letter writer and his sister. She understood pain of heart. She would try to help him regain such a hope as well.
Chapter Five
“Mr. Wickham, we should invite you as well, had you not broken our sister’s heart! I do not think your presence would be appreciated, though perhaps we may invite you at a later time.”
“I hope with all my heart to be extended an invitation to your lovely home again. Friends always make up, do they not?” Mr. Wickham said with a pleasant smile. Wanting to change the subject, he asked, “Tell me, how was the Netherfield Ball? Did you dance every dance?”
“It was a very fine occasion, to be sure. Kitty and I did in fact dance nearly every dance. Mr. Bingley continued to pay Jane attentions and what do you think? Mr. Darcy even danced with Lizzy.”
Kitty interjected, “Though she had claimed she never would! She did not seem to enjoy it. I believe she must dislike him very much!”
As the two young ladies continued to talk about their cousin, Mr. Collins, insisting on dancing with each of them and what Mr. Bingley’s fine sisters were wearing, Mr. Wickham’s smile never wavered. But his mind was otherwise engaged. He knew Darcy very well and knew he must have an interest in Elizabeth Bennet to have asked her to dance with him. Everything Darcy did or said had meaning. Certainly it was noticed that he looked at Elizabeth quite a lot. But Wickham had supposed it was with the intent of deciding if he would tell her about her favorite’s connection to Georgianna Darcy, his sister.
Wickham laughed when Lydia described Mary’s piano playing. He had woken in a merry mood today, thinking of wealthy Miss King and being set for life, leaving the militia behind. But now he found his joy stifled by the idea that Darcy might get what he wanted. The thought crossed his mind that he could have a change of heart and continue to pursue Elizabeth. It would thwart Darcy’s plans. It was so tempting to throw all good sense away and marry Elizabeth and flaunt her under Darcy’s nose. But he needed Miss King’s money desperately. He could only hope that he had set Elizabeth so firmly against Darcy with his stories of being wronged that she would never give Darcy a chance and Darcy would be touched by the sting of rejection. He felt confident that he would succeed; he would have both money from marrying well and revenge on Darcy for ruining his chances with Georgiana and the life of luxury he should have enjoyed with her, a life he should be enjoying now in fact, instead of
sharing barracks with forty other men.
Darcy was anxious to see if his letter had been found. The day after he left it in the tree he occupied his time by joining Bingley in riding to inspect more of the countryside and shooting. Despite these activities, time seemed to have slowed down excruciatingly.
He waited two days after leaving his letter before going back to check in the wooded area for a reply. Early in the morning, just before dawn, he made his way up the hill to see if the letter was gone. He did not see his letter as he got closer to the knothole. On examining both the tree and the surrounding area, he was satisfied that it has indeed been found. Please let it be Elizabeth who has found and read it, he thought. Though nothing had been left in its place, there was reason to hope that there would be a reply.
As soon as dawn awakened him on the third day since leaving his letter, he hurriedly dressed and walked out towards the hills. As he approached it became clear that another letter had been left there. He heart leapt within him at the sight of it.
He looked around, to see if he were by chance being spied upon. On finding he was alone, he smiled and sighed with relief. He would not stay there and chance being discovered. At the same time, he could not wait until he was back at Netherfield to find out if it had been Elizabeth who had written. He quickly opened the letter. Drawing out of his pocket a note he had managed to obtain that Elizabeth had sent to Bingley when her sister Jane had been ill at Netherfield, he compared the handwriting. There was no doubt. Elizabeth’s lovely penmanship had authored both note and letter.
With no one around to observe him in the early hour of the day, Darcy allowed the downward slope of the hill to dictate his speed as he made his way towards Netherfield. As he reached the bottom of the hill, he decided to continue the pace.
Within seconds of his entering the great halls of Netherfield, he was summoned. “Mr. Darcy might my sister and I speak with you for a moment?” asked Miss Bingley.
"Can it possibly wait, Miss Bingley, for I have a pressing matter of business that needs my undivided attention?"
"Oh, of course, Mr. Darcy! You must not neglect your business matters. Do let us arrange an appointed time for our tête–à–tête. Perhaps one morning when Charles goes to meet with his steward?
"Yes, do let us set an appointment for a more convenient time for all involved."
"Well, I suppose it shall have to wait, but it is of utmost importance that we speak with you privately. I do hope your business goes well today, Mr. Darcy."
"Thank you, Miss Bingley. I share your sentiment." He said as he bowed to the lady before retreating up the stairs.
He felt exhilarated upon arriving back in his rooms and eagerly read Elizabeth’s thoughts and words.
Good day,
First of all, rest assured that your letter did indeed find its way to a friend. Your words gave me much to meditate on. You see, I too find myself in a situation which I am having difficulty coming to terms with. As I read your letter, I was forced to admit to myself that bitterness had already begun to grow in my own heart. Your words reminded me of what I already knew but did not allow myself to dwell upon. Bitterness can turn a heart cold if we permit it to. It takes hard work to recover from disappointment, and is often easier left to its own devises. But hope is the key to regaining our strength! I am convinced that we must always hope, even when, no - especially when, we have little reason to.
You have helped me by reminding me that there are others who understand. In truth, it shames me when I think of others whom I know, or have heard of, who have suffered so much more than I. While your sister’s troubles are of a most serious nature, in my opinion, being young seems to help with the mending. Time is on her side.
I too have sisters who are very dear to me. I believe it would cause me more pain to see one of them in such circumstances as your sister has endured than it would be to endure it myself. Family bonds can be so strong and create in us an extreme desire to rise to action. I sincerely feel for your sister, but also for your having to be in the position you are in.
You mentioned having pride in your good character. In times past, I looked at pride in only negative terms. But I can see how it can, and perhaps even should, be part of a good character. I think I have always equated it with arrogance, but the two do not necessarily always go together, do they? I admire your pride of character and suggest that it will prevail! Take heart, as many before you can attest to - those who speak ill of others out of malice will be exposed for who they truly are. Then your good name will be restored to you. In the meantime, no doubt you have friends who know better.
I shall fight hard to give support to the hope which is trying to enter my life again and wish the same for you. Your words were like a salve to my wounds and have started the healing process.
Thank you, A friend
Darcy read the letter again, slowly this time, and then held it against his chest. His words had helped her. Going directly to his desk he began to write his next letter.
Dear friend,
I shall heed your sound advice. In writing this letter, I will try to replace some of my sullenness with better memories. You could not have expressed it any better: There are certainly others who have gone through more trying circumstances. I am setting my hope on time affording truth to be revealed and taking care of my dearest sister’s distress.
In the spirit of trying to keep positive experiences in front of me instead of negative, I shall put myself forward to share with you a story about a time when I traveled to a small town in the Greek Isles. I do not believe I understood the true meaning of hospitality until I met the people there. Though their daily allotment was but a small fraction of what we have here for tea alone, they insisted on distributing to us what they had. And they did it without reservation and with a smile that could not be wiped off their faces. Though we could be considered neighbors in terms of location, some of the food that we were served was different from any we had tried before. When one travels and sees firsthand the customs and way of life of other men and women, it does two things. I should qualify that statement by saying it does two things for me, though I am certain other travelers would agree.
First, it makes me appreciate what I have, which is more often than not, much more than others do. Secondly, it makes me appreciate what they have. Though living simple lives, they are quite content. They have close relationships and form bonds within their small villages that transcend blood relations. It is easy to surmise that they care deeply about one another. And that concern is extended to others whom they meet, such as strangers from far away lands.
Another positive observation I have made is that wherever in the world one travels to, and I have traveled extensively, children are unchanged from one location to another. Their eyes light up, and they squeal with delight when given a sweet treat. It is the purest expression of joy, and a value cannot be placed on it. Indeed it brings a smile to my face each and every time to see children the world over without prejudice, or malice of heart, enjoying life in its simplest composition. I mention this because thinking on this gives me reason to hope, hope and believe that goodness can be found, and goodness will not remain unrecognized by those who see it so clearly. The children of this world will always be special and provide a smile to brighten my countenance. I find the remembrance allows for happy meditation.
I try to apply what I have learned in my travels in my dealings with others. It is important to me to be fair and kind. I admittedly have a low level of tolerance for those who show disrespect for the local customs, whether in my own country or as a guest in another land. I was raised to value propriety, and I expect much from those who should know better. I wonder, do the resulting opinions I form because of my high standards in this regard make others feel I am proud in the arrogant way you speak of? I shall think deeply on the matter. When gatherings of people all have the same information and knowledge, should not all also act within its accepted boundaries? Those who stray from such bring crit
icism upon themselves, do they not? If this be the case, why is the one who notices the errant behavior often singled out as the one causing offense? I would like an answer to that age old question, if you feel so inclined. I believe an understanding of the answer would benefit me greatly. I look forward to hearing your judgement of the matters discussed.
Yours Truly
Chapter Six
Darcy could hardly wait to read her next letter, which he found waiting for him just two days after he had left one for her.
Dear friend,
I was captivated by your letter. As someone whose life has not afforded her travels outside of her own country, except through the pages of books, I relish hearing firsthand accounts about such things. Places, peoples and customs are of great interest to me. I thank you for sharing your information about the small village in Greece.
As to your questions, if I may be so bold, I do have an opinion. I shall address them now. You asked:
When gatherings of people all have the same information and knowledge, should not all also act within its accepted boundaries? True, the case you make for propriety being an established mode across our culture is legitimate. However, class distinctions, upbringing, subtle country manners versus those of town, personalities and temperaments, to name but a few, must all be taken into account when establishing these accepted boundaries. Just as the laws which govern us are at times fixed, so some acts of decorum are as well. However, one must realize that there are other laws which are not so decidedly fixed but are rather open to interpretation. Here is where the boundaries become less sharply drawn. In cases such as this, one man may choose to overlook as mere folly what another views as impropriety.
Yours truly, Mr. Darcy: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 3