I would rather be here, writing to you, though it would be better to go somewhere like Bath or Brighton and get a husband. But Papa says he will never let me go anywhere, and if he does not relent, I will turn into an old maid.
Kitty
Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Mrs Charlotte Collins
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
October 7
My dear Charlotte,
You were right! Mr Darcy is in love with me, he proposed to me yesterday and I have said yes! I am so happy that I cannot even be angry with you for being right where I was wrong, and for seeing what I could not. To think, you knew it all along, before I knew it myself, before even my dear Mr Darcy knew it; though he tells me now that he was struck with the beautiful expression in my eyes almost the first day he met me, as soon as he had roundly condemned my looks to everyone else! It seems that when Sir William Lucas begged a partner for me at Lucas Lodge last November, Mr Darcy was ready to oblige, although he liked me better for my spirit in refusing.
I am sure I cannot claim any virtue for it, as I was motivated by a wish to confound his expectations and remove any reason he might have for disdaining me rather than by any nobler instincts. He had slighted my charms and so I was determined never to like him, and I was certain that he would never like me. Such is the blindness that prejudice brings with it.
But I was wrong! Charlotte, we have been talking all day, and you may imagine how much we have to say. We have a year’s worth of conversation.
When I stayed with Jane at Netherfield to nurse her through her cold, he found himself so much in danger from me by the end of the visit that he withdrew into silence lest he should raise any expectations in my breast. And I thought he was simply being arrogant and disdainful; particularly after Mama’s visit, which I knew had disgusted him. And when he left the neighbourhood with Mr Bingley, my loss caused him a great deal of unhappiness; more unhappiness than his loss caused me, for by then I had heard Mr Wickham’s tale of woe and I was foolish enough to believe it.
When I think how Mr Wickham duped me, and how easy I was to dupe, I am ashamed. And when I think of how I treated my dear Mr Darcy at Easter, when I was still in the grip of all my blind prejudices, I blush with mortification.
But let me not dwell on such things. As soon as Mr Wickham’s villainy was revealed I began to think differently about everything, though I thought it too late, because by then I had lost my dearest Mr Darcy.
And now I must tell you of something which happened at Easter, when I was staying with you and Mr Collins, and which I did not tell you about at the time because of my confusion and my uncertainty as to my own feelings. It is this, Charlotte: that when I was staying at the parsonage, Mr Darcy proposed to me.
And now you are shocked, I suppose—or perhaps not, as you always suspected he had a partiality for me. It was on the night of Tuesday, the twenty-second of April that he offered me his hand. The date is ingrained in my memory. You and Mr Collins and Maria had gone to dine at Rosings Park, but I had stayed behind pleading a headache. And indeed I did have a headache, for I had just discovered that Mr Darcy had separated Mr Bingley and Jane. You may guess at my feelings towards Mr Darcy then, and my unwillingness to meet him at dinner.
But what should happen, when I was sitting alone in the parsonage, but that Mr Darcy should walk in! Oh, Charlotte, the things I said to him! And the things he said to me! He criticised my family, my person, my station in life, and then had the temerity to propose to me. You may imagine my reply. I not only condemned him for separating Mr Bingley and Jane, but for ruining Mr Wickham’s hopes as well.
In reply, he wrote me a letter. He told me the truth about Mr Wickham: that Mr Wickham was a wastrel and other, less savoury, things; and I realised how wrong I had been about everything. But it was too late to put matters right.
And there matters would have ended, had I not met Mr Darcy again in Derbyshire. How changed he was, how polite and attentive to my aunt and uncle, how unfailingly courteous to me. And then came Lydia’s elopement and I thought all hope had gone forever. But I was wrong!
Oh, Charlotte, I cannot tell you how happy I am! What does it matter what happened in the past, when everything in the present is so right? My dearest Mr Darcy smiling at me, my darling Jane happily betrothed, Susan blissfully married, and you, dear Charlotte, with your olive branch on the way.
I have time for no more. I must go. Give my love to Mr Collins, though I fear he will be horrified at my news! And perhaps it would be better to stay away from Lady Catherine for the next few days. My dear Mr Darcy intends to write to her and apprise her of our betrothal, and you know her feelings towards me. She liked me well enough as a friend of her rector’s wife, but not as the mistress of Pemberley. I fear the shades will be polluted after all.
Your friend,
Lizzy
Mr Darcy to Mr Philip Darcy
Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,
October 7
Philip, you must forgive me, but I have offered my hand to Elizabeth Bennet and she has accepted. I know you wanted me to make a great match, one which would enhance the standing of Pemberley and the Darcy name, but believe me, I have made the right choice. Elizabeth is the only woman I could ever take to Pemberley and the only woman I could ever make my wife. I am persuaded my father would be pleased. How well I remember his letter, telling me what I must look for in a wife, and I have found it and more besides. I have found something my parents had, something better than rank or wealth; I have found love. You must come to the wedding. When you meet her, you will understand.
Darcy
Mr Bennet to Mr Collins
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
October 8
Dear Sir,
I must trouble you once more for congratulations. Elizabeth will soon be the wife of Mr Darcy. Console Lady Catherine as well as you can. But, if I were you, I would stand by the nephew. He has more to give.
Yours sincerely,
John Bennet
Mrs Bennet to Mrs Gardiner
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
October 8
Sister, Lizzy is too busy to write herself, but I wanted to tell you the wonderful news: she is to marry Mr Darcy.
I knew how it would be as soon as I saw them together at the assembly. I said to Mr Bennet, ‘You mark my words, we’ll have Lizzy at Pemberley before the year is out.’ Such a charming man! So handsome, so tall! A house in town, ten thousand a year! How rich and great Elizabeth will be! What pin money, what jewels and carriages she will have!
But I must go. The gentlemen are coming to luncheon and I must speak to Cook. We are having venison and fish and six sauces. A man like Mr Darcy will have French chefs, I am sure, and I am not about to let him think that we cannot cook in Hertfordshire. I intend to give him a luncheon the like of which he has never eaten before.
Your sister,
Janet
Miss Mary Bennet to Miss Lucy Sotherton
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
October 9
Most noble Friend,
It has been a week of proposals. Mr Bingley has proposed to Jane, Mr Darcy has proposed to Elizabeth and Mama has proposed to move to Pemberley after the wedding.
I was surprised that Mr Bingley offered for Jane because he seemed eager to leave Netherfield last year, and as for Mr Darcy, he has never looked twice at Elizabeth in his life, except to find fault with her and to say that she was only tolerable. I have read much about the fickleness of women, and indeed I have made many extracts on the subject, but it has become clear to me that men are the fickle sex.
I am beginning to lose my faith in extracts.
Your dolorous sister of the bosom,
Mary
Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Mrs Gardiner
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
October 10
I would have thanked you before, my dear aunt, as I ought to have done, for your long, kind, satisfactory detail of particulars; but to say the truth,
I was too cross to write. You supposed more than really existed. But now suppose as much as you choose; give loose to your fancy, indulge your imagination in every possible flight which the subject will afford, and unless you believe me actually married, you cannot greatly err. You must write again very soon, and praise him a great deal more than you did in your last. I thank you, again and again, for not going to the Lakes. How could I be so silly as to wish it! Your idea of the ponies is delightful. We will go round the Park every day. I am the happiest creature in the world. Perhaps other people have said so before, but not one with such justice. I am happier even than Jane; she only smiles, I laugh. Mr Darcy sends you all the love in the world that he can spare from me. You are all to come to Pemberley at Christmas.
Your loving niece,
Lizzy
Mr Darcy to Lady Catherine de Bourgh
Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,
October 10
Lady Catherine, I am sure you will want to wish me happy. I have asked Miss Elizabeth Bennet to marry me, and she has done me the great honour of saying yes.
Your nephew,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Mr Darcy to Miss Georgiana Darcy
Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire,
October 10
My dear sister,
I know you will be delighted to hear that Elizabeth Bennet and I are to marry. I will tell you everything when I see you next.
Your loving brother,
Fitzwilliam
Miss Georgiana Darcy to Mr Darcy
Darcy House, London, October 11
Oh, dear brother, I cannot tell you how delighted I am! I have always wanted a sister, and Elizabeth is the very one I would have chosen. I do so hope she will love me as much as I already love her.
When you told me you wanted to introduce me to her in Derbyshire, I suspected you were in love with her; indeed, I suspected it even before that, for you had a look about you whenever her name was mentioned. No one who did not know you as I do would have noticed it, but I hoped then that you might have found someone to make you happy. I know how difficult you are to please—oh dear! that did not come out as it should!—but there are so many women who court you for your name instead of yourself and you see through them at once. I am beginning to know something of it myself, and although last year I could not see through it, I believe that I now know the difference between honest interest and self-interest. At least I hope so.
But Elizabeth is not like that. She is warm and kind and genuine. I do not know how else to explain it. She was so good to me in Derbyshire. She persevered in talking to me, even though I was so shy I could do nothing but murmur in monosyllables. I wanted to make a good impression on her, as I could tell at once that you were full of admiration for her—your eyes soften when you look at her, you know, and the expression of boredom you frequently wear completely disappears—and I was so afraid of saying something foolish that I could scarcely say anything at all. Then I worried that she would think me a fool, but she made such an effort to put me at my ease that I soon felt much more comfortable.
But I think it was when we stayed beyond the half hour, and you then asked me to join you in inviting her to dinner, that I was sure she was special to you. And I was so pleased, even though I was alarmed at the thought of being your hostess on such an important occasion, for you know I do not want to ever let you down again in any way.
That is why I decided to receive her in the salon. The windows there, you know, are my favourite, opening as they do right down to the ground. I was so afraid of doing wrong that I was tongue-tied when she arrived, but I saw by her expression that she did not think any the worse of me for it. I am glad she was so forgiving, for you know I did not perform my duties as hostess very well. Having given orders in the kitchen the night before and having sent to the hothouses for the best fruits, I froze when they were brought in, and if not for Mrs Annesley, I would not have remembered what to do. You will think me a sad case, I am sure! I am only glad you were not there to see my embarrassment. I was very glad when you came in to play the host, and I felt such happiness when I saw your eyes go to Elizabeth. I was glad for you and glad for me, selfishly, because I felt from the first that I could easily love such a sister.
She was so good to me when Caroline began to talk about the militia. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. I could not lift my eyes from the carpet. I knew that Caroline wanted to pain Elizabeth, for she had not been able to resist laughing at the Bennets when we were playing our duets or singing together, and saying that they all ran after the officers. She could not have known how she was wounding me when she mentioned them. Elizabeth’s collected behaviour, however, soon calmed me and I was able to raise my eyes again.
I was hoping to see more of her, and I was very sorry when her uncle had to return suddenly, taking her with him.
And here, dear brother, I have a confession to make. It has troubled me for some time but I cannot have secrets from you. I know what it was that took you to town. You handed me one of my guardian’s letters in a hurry, without first removing the page that was for you alone. I also know why you helped in the way you did. I suspected it at the time, and I hoped to hear that I would have a sister months ago, but, however, I am very glad to learn that I am to have one now, especially as it is the right one.
Do you think we might go shopping together when she is in town? It would be such fun to do the things that sisters do. Elizabeth, I know, has four sisters of her own, but I am persuaded that she is kind enough to indulge me, if you will permit it. I am so happy I feel as if I could write another four pages, but I cannot end the letter without asking when the wedding is to be.
Your loving sister,
Georgiana
Lady Catherine de Bourgh to Mr Darcy
Rosings Park, Kent, October 12
Fitzwilliam,
I do not call you nephew, for you are no longer a nephew of mine. I am shocked and astonished that you could stoop to offer your hand to a person of such low breeding. It is a stain on the honour and credit of the name of Darcy. She will bring you nothing but degradation and embarrassment, and she will reduce your house to a place of impertinence and vulgarity. Your children will be wild and undisciplined, and your daughters will run off with stable hands. Your sons will become attorneys. You will never be received by any of your acquaintance. You will be disgraced in the eyes of the world, a figure of contempt. You will bitterly regret this day. You will remember that I warned you of the consequences of such a disastrous act, but by then it will be too late. I will not end this letter by wishing you happiness, for no happiness can follow such a blighted union.
Lady Catherine de Bourgh
Miss Anne de Bourgh to Miss Georgiana Darcy
Rosings Park, Kent, October 12
Dear coz,
We have just heard the news. Mama had a letter from Fitzwilliam, telling us of his betrothal. It is such a relief, I am overjoyed and I wish Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth every happiness!
Mama, on the other hand, is not overjoyed, and I am keeping out of her way. I sent a message downstairs to say that I was not well and I intend to keep to my room all day. I hear from my maid that the Collinses have thought it expedient to visit Mrs Collins’s family in Hertfordshire and I am not surprised. Mama is livid. She has had three of the maids and two of the footmen in tears this morning, upset by her complaining about anything and nothing. She has written a letter to my aunt in Cumbria, telling her she must write to Fitzwilliam and forbid the match. It will do no good, I am sure my aunt is too sensible to take any notice, but it has gone some way to relieve Mama’s feelings. She further relieved them by writing to Fitzwilliam and telling him he would disgrace his name, his family and indeed everything else if he married Elizabeth. However, I am sure he will be too happy to care for anything Mama might say.
I intend to remain in my room for two or three days and I have had the foresight to bring my pencils and paints, my needlework and my novels with m
e.
Do you think Henry will be home for the wedding? If so, I hope he might call on us here at Rosings, though I would not blame him if he stayed away. I wish we might attend the wedding, but Mama is so angry that she has declared she will not go and so there is no hope of that—unless she changes her mind, so that she can stand up when the vicar asks if any man can show any cause why they may not be joined together, and say that yes, she knows of a just cause, that Elizabeth would pollute the shades of Pemberley! Oh dear, I wish that thought had not occurred to me, for I now find myself wondering if it might happen. I will have nightmares about it, I am sure; or, even worse, that Mama might stand up and say that he was promised to me.
I will not think of it. I will think of church bells and white satin and flowers instead. You must tell me all about it; I rely on you, Georgiana.
Your dear coz,
Anne
Mrs Bennet to Mrs Gardiner
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
October 15
My dear sister,
Were there ever such times! Jane to marry Mr Bingley, Lizzy to marry Mr Darcy! We are coming to London to shop for wedding clothes and we will be with you on the eighteenth. Poor Lydia had no time to shop for her clothes, but I mean to make up for it with Lizzy and Jane. I will not let anyone say that my girls did not have the best dresses for their wedding. Speaking of Lydia, I have told her to write to her sister and beg her husband’s help for poor Wickham. He has been very hard done by and I am sure that Lizzy’s husband would be glad to be of use to him. Who better than his own brother-in-law to assist him? I am sure he deserves it, for never a handsomer young man lived.
Now, if I can only get Mary and Kitty married, my happiness will be complete. Mr Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, will be standing up with him, and I think he might do for one or other of them. Then there is Mr Bingley’s younger brother, who is to stand up with him. To be sure, the Bingley fortune comes from trade, but Mr Bingley and his sisters are very genteel, and I am sure the rest of the family is just the same.
Dear Mr. Darcy: A Retelling of Pride and Prejudice Page 30