The Letter

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The Letter Page 1

by Emma Crawley




  The Letter

  A Pride and Prejudice Variation

  Emma Crawley

  Copyright © 2019 by Emma Crawley

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Image: geoffblackmore/Bigstock.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  1

  Even the beauty of the day could not lift my spirits. I paced the grove, and when that did not soothe my irritated feelings, I sat on an old tree stump and smoothed my skirts as I drew a deep breath before rising to my feet once again.

  No, it was no good. I could not be still. I looked at the letter in my hand and shook my head with an incredulous smile. Surely, I could not believe the words written there? I looked in the direction Mr Darcy had disappeared not long before. I was tempted to rush after him and demand further explanation. I had so many questions I did not know where to begin. But I resisted the urge to chase after him and returned to the pages before me yet again.

  The part about Wickham still shocked me as it had the first moment I read it. I could not believe I have been so deceived. How could a man who gave every appearance of goodness be so wicked? And why had I been so eager to believe him?

  Ah, but I knew the answer to that. Wickham flattered me. When Mr Darcy rejected me as not handsome enough to tempt him, Wickham chose me, of all the women in Meryton, to sit beside and seek to please. I never questioned how strange it was that he should tell me such personal information about his dealings with Mr Darcy. I never thought it improper. When he told me Mr Darcy had cheated him out of his inheritance, I was so eager to believe any evil of that gentleman I never challenged him. It never occurred to me that a man should not confide such personal information in a lady to whom he had just been introduced, And it should have occurred to me — I, who had always prided myself on my superior judgment of others.

  I seated myself on the stump again and returned the part of the letter that explained Mr Darcy’s dealings with Wickham. To think it had all been lies. Mr Darcy had never deprived Wickham. Wickham’s dissipated way of living meant he was never suited for the church living that Mr Darcy’s father intended to offer him and he requested a sum of money in its place which Mr Darcy granted him. He had squandered it all before attempting to elope with Mr Darcy’s sister Georgiana last summer.

  It was a blow to discover how I had been deceived. I recollected my words from the night before when Mr Darcy had taken the astonishing step of declaring his love for me and asking me to be his wife.

  I replaced the letter in my lap and stared into the surrounding trees. The shock of that moment hit me once again. Another matter I had been so wrong about. Never for a moment had I suspected Mr Darcy was in love with me. I thought he disliked me as much as I did him.

  I still could not believe the proposal had happened. When I awoke that morning, I was almost ready to convince myself that it had been an extraordinary dream. Mr Darcy love me? Mr Darcy care for me? The proud, arrogant Mr Darcy who had disgusted all of Meryton with his pride last winter. And all along, he had been in love with me and wished to marry me. Despite the anger burning in my chest as I thought of that man and his insulting words, I could not be insensible to the compliment of such a proposal. To have unconsciously stirred the affections of such a man was not something I could easily dismiss.

  I returned to the letter once again. My other charge against Mr Darcy was that he had separated my sister Jane from his friend, Mr Bingley, the previous winter. Jane had been in love with Mr Bingley. I knew she loved him still. She had been heartbroken and confused when he left Hertfordshire without a word all those months ago. None of us could understand why he left so suddenly when he seemed so in love with Jane, and a proposal had been all but expected.

  Just yesterday, Mr Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, had told me Mr Darcy congratulated himself on preventing their marriage. The Colonel was not aware that I was the sister of the lady in question. It had taken all my willpower not to expose my distress. It was the reason I had declined to join Charlotte, and Mr Collins for tea at Lady Catherine’s the night before. I could not bear the thought of seeing Mr Darcy, knowing he destroyed the happiness of my most beloved sister.

  And yet, Charlotte and Mr Collins had not been gone long, before Mr Darcy burst into the parlour where I sat nursing a headache caused by my distress at his actions. I could hardly bring myself to be civil to him. I could not account for his being there when I was all alone.

  And then, he declared he loved me. That he loved me the previous winter. That he tried his best to forget me, but he could not do it. That even though my connections were degrading and my family humiliating to him, he could not fight his feelings for me. It was remarkable that he could tell me he loved me and insult me at the same time. I recalled the words I used to reject him with a pinch of shame. Perhaps I had been too harsh. My spirited defence of Wickham could have been seen in another light.

  And yet I have been so wrong — about Wickham at least. About everything else, I had been correct.

  Well, perhaps not entirely correct about Jane and Mr Bingley. Mr Darcy’s reason for separating them was because he did not believe that Jane loved his friend. When I first read that part of the letter, I was prepared to throw it away with disgust at what I was sure was a self-serving falsehood.

  But then, I was forced to recollect how Charlotte herself had made a similar remark when we watched Jane and Mr Bingley together one evening. She had observed that it would be better for Jane not to hide her feelings so well; otherwise, Mr Bingley might be discouraged in his pursuit of her. I had laughed at Charlotte’s words and declared that if I could discern Jane’s regard for Mr Bingley, he must be a simpleton if he could not do the same. Charlotte pointed out that Mr Bingley did not know Jane as well as I. And if Mr Bingley, who spent all his time with Jane could not be depended upon to recognise her feelings for him, that led me to believe that Mr Darcy, as distant and aloof as he was, could also not possibly be expected to understand and recognise them.

  I groaned and buried my face in my hands. How could I have been so wrong about so many things? How had I been so deceived in my judgment?

  I raised my face as a bird flew overhead, its sudden screech distracting me. As I looked up at the azure sky, I took a deep breath to calm myself.

  There was one thing I was not wrong about. Mr Darcy had no right to decide Jane’s feelings, and he had no right to come between Jane and Mr Bingley. Even if he did it for better reasons than pride, and even if he did it to protect his friend, it was not his place to be the judge and interfere. And I was also correct that he was a proud, aloof man with li
ttle to recommend him to the world. His words as he condemned my family still stung, although I was forced to recognise the truth of some of them. My younger sisters and my mother’s behaviour left much to be desired. I had to be honest with myself about that. Jane and I had often united in checking them with little result as my father was too indolent to take on the role as head of our family. I always knew my sisters, and my mother would expose us to ridicule. Little did I know how much it would cost us.

  I looked toward Rosings Park. Though I could not see the house through the trees, I could picture its austere charm. In which part of it did Mr Darcy reside right now? What was he thinking? Did he wonder how I received his letter? I could only hope he was planning to leave Rosings for London. Surely, he would not wish to stay now, not after I rejected him? He would want to return to London at once. I hoped that I was right. I never wanted to encounter him again. I did not know how we would ever look one another in the eye.

  “Cousin Elizabeth!”

  I jumped around in alarm, for a confused moment wondering why Mr. Darcy would refer to me as his cousin. I shook my head and tried not to smile at my stupidity as I saw my cousin, Mr Collins, standing at the edge of the clearing. No two men could be more dissimilar. Mr Darcy, I was forced to own, was a tall, handsome, well-built man. Certainly, the most attractive man I had ever seen, much as I hated to admit it. Mr Collins was… Well, to say he was not comely was to be generous. I looked at Charlotte’s squat, toad-like husband in amusement.

  “Were you looking for me, sir?”

  Mr Collins hurried towards me, wringing his hands in agitation.

  “I have been searching for you all morning, Cousin Elizabeth. I was quite concerned.”

  I gave him a puzzled look.

  “All morning? What is the time?”

  “It is almost noon. Charlotte tells me you left the house before breakfast.”

  Almost noon! I had sat in the grove for hours. The morning had run away from me.

  “Forgive me. I lost track of time.”

  Mr Collins was staring at something in my lap. Too late, I recalled the letter that sat forgotten in my hand as I had been lost in contemplation. I tried to tuck it away without him seeing.

  “What is that?”

  I gave him an arch look, hoping to embarrass him from further enquiry.

  “It is a letter from my sister, Jane.”

  “Indeed? I understood you received a letter from her only yesterday. I saw it on the sideboard as I came to search for you.”

  “I…” I chewed my lip as I cast around for an explanation. For an unmarried woman to receive a letter from a man she was not engaged or related to was a scandal. I was somewhat surprised that the proper Mr Darcy had committed such a breach of impropriety. I suspected it went to show how desperately he wanted to clear his name of the charges I had laid against him. “It is an older letter I had received from her. She mentioned something about a shop she had visited, but I was trying to recall what it was. Nothing that would interest a gentleman.” I smiled up at him in a way I hoped was flattering although it was hard to behave so with such a man.

  Mr Collins came towards me and tilted his head as if to examine the letter. This was too much. I might be a guest under his roof, but he had no right to be so intrusive. I rose to my feet and folded the letter so he could not see the words.

  “The handwriting looks different to my fair cousin’s,” said Mr Collins with a frown.

  “Does it?” I said vaguely. I shoved the letter into my pocket before he could examine it further. “Perhaps we should return to the house. I am sure Charlotte has been wanting me. Has Lady Catherine said anything about us joining her for tea tonight?”

  Mr Collins’s face lit up at once.

  “Yes, you would be most eager to join us, having the misery of missing Lady Catherine’s company last night. You are very good. And, I am delighted to inform you that Lady Catherine made it plain she does wish for us to join her for tea tonight when we left yesterday. I should have told you as soon as we arrived home. I apologise for depriving you of such exciting news.”

  “All is forgiven, sir,” I said, trying not to smile. “Come, let us hurry back to Charlotte. I am sure you would rather be with Lady Catherine than searching for me. You know how she cannot do without you.”

  Mr Collins nodded importantly and visibly swelled. “I am always happy to be of service to my fair cousin. But you are correct, of course, and your judgment does your credit. I am sure Lady Catherine will be looking for my arrival…”

  Mr Collins was still speaking as I hurried away from the grove as fast as I could.

  2

  I spent a pleasant morning with Charlotte and almost succeeded in forgetting about Mr Darcy for several minutes at a time. Our friendship had received a slight impact when I disagreed with her choice to marry a man as foolish as Mr Collins. Especially when he had proposed to her only days after I rejected him. But it was all past now. I was pleased to see her so happy and content as she bustled about her new home, discussing meal plans with the cook and sending a note to the butchers to cancel her order of meat for that day. Charlotte has always been a realist. She told me many times she wanted nothing more than a comfortable home and the pleasure of knowing she was not a burden on her parents. I tried not to look too morose as I recalled how only hours before I had to turn down my second chance of having a home of my own. And what a home it would have been! Pemberley, the largest estate in Derbyshire.

  But what a husband.

  I forced myself to turn my attention back to Charlotte when I realised she was looking at me expectantly.

  “I suspect I have my answer,” she said with a concerned smile.

  “Forgive me,” I said. “You know how I can be. I was miles away, recalling the beauty of the woods this morning.”

  Charlotte laughed. “I was asking about your headache. I had hoped it might have recovered by this morning, but I suspect it has not.”

  Almost at the last moment, I forgot the excuse I have given Charlotte as I rushed from the house this morning. The previous night, I had a headache. But after a restless night of crying, the headache might have subsided, but my appearance was not fit to be seen. I knew if Charlotte took one look at me, she would have realised something was wrong. To my shame, I had murmured something about my headache as I rushed to leave the house before breakfast before she could realise something was wrong. I had not concerned myself with how it might worry her.

  “Oh, yes. My headache. Yes, it is long disappeared. I think the walk did me a world of good. Now tell me…” I paused as I considered how best to look indifferent as I brought up the topic that most interested me. “How was tea at Lady Catherine’s last night? Did she demand to know the reasons for my absence?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “She was most displeased at first and made much of talking about the various remedies she somehow knows for a fact will cure any headache. To add to all her other genius, it seems the lady is also a renowned physician.” Charlotte smiled and rolled her eyes. “However, she was soon distracted by other events. Mr Darcy disappeared not long after we arrived. Lady Catherine was most displeased and demanded that the servants discover where he was. He had said something about needing to write to his sister, Georgiana, but he must have left the house. As we were leaving, he ran up the steps and walked past us so quickly, he did not even see us. I am concerned about him. I worry he received bad news from London.”

  “Oh?” I looked down at my cup as though fascinated by its contents. “Why would you say that?”

  Charlotte’s brow furrowed with concern. “I have never seen a man look so distraught in all my life. His face was pale, and he looked as though he had received a mighty below. I tried to speak with him, but before I could, he had passed me by. It was peculiar to see a proud man in such a state, so I decided against stopping him. I hope he has not received bad news from London. Lady Catherine called after him, but he moved so swiftly he did not heed her.”
/>   I took a sip of tea to avoid meeting Charlotte’s gaze.

  “Who knows with a man like Mr Darcy? You said yourself he walked by so fast he did not even see you. And I am sure the entrance was rather dark. Perhaps you are mistaking his expression? I know if I wished to avoid seeing Lady Catherine, I would fly past before she could stop me.”

  Charlotte shrugged. “Well, perhaps you are right. I cannot imagine what news he might have received to upset him so much at that late hour, anyway. Perhaps it was nothing.”

  I felt my face grow warm. My hand shook slightly as I raised my cup to my lips again. Fortunately, Charlotte was busying herself with the teapot, and if she noticed my reaction, she said nothing.

  “Speaking of Mr Darcy, it seems Lady Charlotte is desirous of our company again as her nephews have announced a sudden intention of leaving Kent today. She invited us to take tea with her, but I received a note this morning demanding our presence for dinner instead. That is another reason I am concerned that Mr Darcy received some unfortunate news. Why else would they leave so suddenly, when Lady Catherine was sure they would finish out the week with her?”

  My relief made me laugh. “Lady Catherine only sees what she wishes to see. It is doubtful the gentleman ever said anything about finishing the week with her. It is likely that today was always the intended day of their departure. But you know how Lady Catherine is. She created a story that they would remain with her until she decided and did not hear them if they said anything that contradicted her wishes. I am sure their departure is not worth all the speculation.”

 

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