Handsome Enough to Tempt Him: A Pride and Prejudice Variation, page 30
You asked some excellent and thought-provoking questions in your last letter.
I am overjoyed that your health has improved so much in these past months. I am no physician, of course, but I am confident that I am a great deal healthier for living an active life.
My sister Mary wedded our cousin, Mr. Collins, for largely pragmatic reasons. She is a sensible creature, my sister, and not terribly romantic. She was unhappy at Longbourn thanks to our father’s unpleasantness, but she also has a tremendous love and concern for Longbourn and her tenants. She made the decision to marry our cousin, who is, to his credit, a kind and compassionate man, so that in addition to being a wife and mother, she could, when our father passed on, be mistress of Longbourn.
Obviously our father died far sooner than any of us expected. Now Mary is mistress of Longbourn and will be able to manage the household and the tenantry to her satisfaction. Longbourn is blessed to have her! This is, of course, very much like your situation with Rosings. You know that Lady Catherine is doing a poor job of overseeing the estate, and you care enough for the people to wish to assist them by taking control yourself.
My sister Jane and I are both far more romantic and made the decision long ago to marry only for genuine affection. Given that there is very little family money, we knew that we might remain unmarried. Then Jane met Charles Bingley, they fell in love quickly, and are obviously happy in their marriage. I am, as you know, now in an unofficial and unusual courtship with your cousin, Mr. Darcy.
I could have never married Mr. Collins, but I understand Mary’s reasoning very well. Every individual in this world has a slightly different temperament.
Can you be happy in a marriage of convenience, so long as your husband is a kind and honorable gentleman?
I could not be, as I desire more, but many a lady engages in such a marriage with open eyes and a cheerful heart.
As for your health, only you know how you feel; having said that, I am aware of somewhat fragile ladies who have birthed children with perfect ease. Given that you suspect your way of living at Rosings contributed to your weakness, I think it likely that you would do well enough. But again, you and you alone can make that decision.
God bless you,
Elizabeth Bennet
/
10th March, 1812
Pemberley
Miss Bennet,
It grieved me to read of your difficult life due to your father’s cruel behavior. My instinctual reaction is to say that of course I would never behave in such a way.
As a child I was taught what was right by my parents and given good principles. More than that, I had the very great advantage of observing a marriage of true affection between my parents. I am well aware that many members of the ton wed based entirely on connections and wealth. While my parents did doubtless consider such factors, they genuinely loved and respected one another.
Having said all that, I have forced myself to contemplate the question at hand; whether, after a great injury, while in much pain, I would lash at out at my loved ones.
I have come to the conclusion that I would not. On those rare occasions in my life when I have injured myself, when I have been in pain, my natural tendency is to retreat to my room and manage my discomfort with the assistance of my faithful valet. He has served me for a decade now, and I appreciate him as much as, I hope, he appreciates me.
I am not certain whether retreat is the best way of handling such situations, but it always seemed sensible to me. My mother, while loving and kind, suffered from ill health for many years, which worsened after the birth of my sister. My father, a most diligent landlord of Pemberley, spent most of his time managing the estate.
I can imagine, and long for, the tender care of a loving wife in such circumstances, but I cannot imagine turning my vitriol on my loved ones.
I am relieved to hear that you did not fall ill from influenza, and that the other members of the family are well on their way to full health.
God bless you,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
/
15th April, 1812
London
Darcy,
We plan to make our way journey travel to Pemberley in the middle of next month.
We are confident now that my dear Jane is with child, as is her sister Mary Collins. We feel very blessed.
At your direction suggestion, we are making plans to have the roofs of two of the tenant cottages at Netherfield replaced in the next months, when it is hotter warmer.
Yes, we are happy.
Bingley
/
18th April, 1812
Longbourn
Dear Jane,
I hope you are enjoying your time in London! Is the Clarendon Hotel as wonderful as everyone says it is? Are the dinners remarkable?
I am so excited about our upcoming trip to Pemberley! It has been a peculiar sort of courtship, but courtship it is, and I think Mr. Darcy and I are the better for it. You and Charles had the marvelous opportunity of talking to one another at length, and in person, and realized quickly that you love one another.
I am a more fiery and, yes, fractious woman, compared to you at any rate. I know you are protesting aloud even as you read these words, but it is true! I would not be happy with a man exactly like Charles, and he would not be happy with me.
But Mr. Darcy! His looks and his deep voice are tantalizing to me, and I think, if we had spent much time in company, I would have fallen in love with him based on his person and his intelligence.
And that would have been good, but I think, no, I am certain, that this strange continuance of our relationship, carried out through letters, has allowed us both to analyze one another without the distraction of physical desire.
Not that physical desire is bad, but it is simpler, in a way, to be able to focus on other aspects.
I will say no more, dear married sister of mine!
Regarding the dresses you are having made up in London – you should definitely have at least one gown made up in dark blue. Your eyes are a dark blue, and you will look marvelous.
It was kind of you to invite me with you to London on a shopping spree, but I am glad I stayed here. Mamma will be alone with Mary and William after we leave for Pemberley, and I wish to spend extra hours with her now. I know she will do well here; Mary is competent and kindly, and William is a decent man, but I will miss her very much.
It will be, of course, worth it for the very great privilege of spending time at Pemberley. Based on our latest letters, I think – oh Jane! To be Mrs. Darcy!
Kitty and Lydia are now aware that Mr. Darcy and I are corresponding, but have been admirably silent on the matter. They know, as I do, that if William learned of the letters, he would send an express to Lady Catherine informing her that Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth Bennet are on the cusp of an engagement. She is a ridiculous person, Lady Catherine, but I do not care for another visit from her.
I have not told Mary. She is capable of keeping her own counsel, but I do not wish for her to be forced to keep something from her husband that he feels he has the right to know.
Mamma is aware, of course, and is overjoyed. It is reassuring to me that she approves of Mr. Darcy as much as she does Charles.
I wish to take a walk before dinner, my dear, and thus will end this. I will see you in a week, and then a fortnight later, we will be off to Pemberley!
With much love,
Elizabeth
/
20th April, 1812
Longbourn
Mr. Darcy,
Your recent letter was extremely encouraging. I appreciate that you really thought about what would happen if you were injured. So many gentlemen would indeed provide verbose reassurance without analyzing their own characters.
It inspired me to think about what I would do if I were in pain and lost my ability to walk with ease, and my looks. It was a surprisingly difficult task, and it gave me new sympathy for my father.
I am certain, however, that I would not behave as he did. I love those around me too much to treat others with such cruelty. But he did lose a great deal when he fell from that horse, and it obviously changed his life for the worse in a multitude of ways.
I understand from Charles and Jane that you have invited a large party of Bennets and Bingleys to Pemberley next month, and I intend to be a member of that party. It is kind of you to invite us all, and we are most grateful. My sisters and I will be out of mourning, and my dear mother will be in half mourning. Longbourn is a peculiar place nowadays, with Father gone and my Cousin Collins and sister Mary master and mistress of the estate. Not that it is worse, mind you, than when our father ruled. Indeed, for us as well as the tenants, I believe it is undoubtedly better!
However, we all look forward to being away from Hertfordshire for a season.
As for you and me, I expect that we will almost certainly suit as man and wife, but we ought not to make any promises. After all, one of us may look upon the other for the first time in six months and think, ‘oh dear, my memories and understanding were entirely in error.’
If so, if you have any doubts at all, I beg you not to ask for my hand in marriage. I have no desire at all for an unwilling husband.
God’s blessings,
Elizabeth Bennet
/
Matlock House
London
24th April, 1812
Darcy,
Would you believe that sniveling wretch Wickham ran away from Marshalsea a fortnight go? The governor of the prison sent me a message of his escape, and fortunately I was at Matlock House to receive the note. I gathered up a few servants, searched for him, and found him. He was hiding with that Younge woman, which was no great surprise. He has not two pennies to rub together, and Mrs. Younge has a boarding house.
In any case, given that he ran away from Marshalsea and might well do it again, I am having him shipped off to Australia in a convict ship in the next week or two. The journey is dangerous, and he may not even survive the trip. If he does survive, he will no longer be the handsome scallywag who is able to trick ladies and gentlemen into parting with their fortunes.
I suspect that you will feel vaguely guilty about the matter. You should not. Wickham chose his own path. Moreover, I am the one who has arranged to have him expelled permanently from Britain’s shores.
God bless,
Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam
/
28th April, 1812
Pemberley
Dear Miss Bennet,
I am counting the days until you arrive with your family.
My affections and wishes are unchanged, but given your circumstances, I hope you will not feel obligated to me in any way. I wish for a successful marriage as well, and while I think we would be happy together, you must make that decision on your own.
Until we see one another again.
Affectionately,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Chapter 44
On the Road to Pemberley
Mid May, 1812
The carriage swayed and jostled. Bingley leaned over to murmur solicitously to his wife, "Are you quite well, my dear?"
Jane smiled at him affectionately, resting one hand on her slightly swollen stomach. "I am completely well," she assured him. "I do not feel ill at all."
Bingley smiled in relief and straightened, his eyes warm and admiring on his wife. Elizabeth, who had watched this interlude, turned her attention back to the windows of the carriage. They were currently rolling through a magnificent parkland with a gentle upward slope, the trees clustered close by the road filled with songbirds and pheasants and squirrels and rabbits peeping out in curiosity at the conveyance. Lydia and Kitty, sharing the rear-facing seat, huddled together at the far window, exclaiming in delight at all they saw. Wildflowers sprang white and purple and yellow in the narrow grassy verge between road and woods, and bees humming from one blossom to another.
They attained the top of the hill, and the woods ended with great abruptness. Pemberley spread below them in glorious panorama, the house itself on the far side of the valley, the forested hills mounding up behind it. A lively stream flowed out of the parkland to cross before the house, swelling even greater as it tumbled across the foot of the lawn.
"Oh, how lovely!" Lydia exclaimed, and Elizabeth agreed with feeling. Pemberley truly was majestic; it would be something indeed to be mistress of all this.
The carriage finally came to a halt in front of the great mansion, and within seconds, a liveried servant opened the door. Bingley, who was seated next to the door, leaped out with alacrity and handed out his wife, and then his sisters by marriage.
Elizabeth, once she was standing on the pavement, found herself gazing at the nearby stream with delight. It was yet more charming up close than it had been far away. The water splashed and chuckled to itself, bounding merrily over stones to trickle along in its course. Fish rippled the surface, and even as she watched, a trout arced out in a successful bid to catch an unwary fly hovering too close to the water. Elizabeth took a deep breath of pleasure, reflecting that her Uncle Gardiner, an avid fisherman, would appreciate this place.
“Mr. Bingley, Mrs. Bingley, Misses Bennet, Elizabeth!”
The sudden feminine cry, accompanied by the sound of quick feet, caused Elizabeth to spin around and smile at the sight of Georgiana Darcy hurrying down the stone staircase, with her brother, his own expression joyful, a few steps behind her. Trailing the siblings were several footmen, doubtless prepared to fetch their trunks.
“Welcome to Pemberley,” Miss Darcy exclaimed expansively. “We are so very happy you are here!”
“It is wonderful to be here,” Bingley said with a bow toward Miss Darcy. A moment later, he reached out his hand to grasp Darcy’s own. “Darcy, many thanks for your kind invitation.”
“It is excellent to have you all,” Darcy said, deliberately looking at Elizabeth. “Mrs. Bingley, Misses Bennet, as my sister has already said, welcome.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” Kitty replied, glancing about with dazzled eyes. “Your house is very large!”
“It is, at that,” another voice declared, and Elizabeth, who had been staring at Darcy, turned as Anne de Bourgh, appearing remarkably healthy, descended the last steps and continued, “I had a maid guide me around Pemberley the week after I arrived last December, more for the servants’ sake than mine; the last thing they need is for a guest to become lost and wander absently into the kitchen or the like!”
“Anne,” Elizabeth exclaimed, “how very well you look!”
“I am very well,” Anne replied, her eyes twinkling. “Now I expect that your journey was a good one?”
“It was excellent,” Bingley said.
“I am delighted to hear that,” Darcy said. “Now I am certain you all wish to refresh yourselves. Georgiana and Mrs. Reynolds will show you to your rooms, and I hope that we can enjoy tea in an hour, perhaps?”
/
Guest Bedchamber
Pemberley
“This is your bedchamber, Elizabeth,” Georgiana said anxiously. “I do hope you like it.
Elizabeth reflected in awe that it would be easy to fit any two of the bedrooms at Longbourn inside this one, and with capacity to spare. It felt like dwelling in a piece of the sky, with the azure drapes and blue rug and white cushions on the chairs and couch. Even the flowers, in their forget-me-not painted vase, were blue and white.
Elizabeth drifted over to the window and shifted the white sheer curtains aside to peep out. The glass panes rose almost to the molding on the high ceiling, and the rose garden that spread below her window was in full bloom, presenting an incomparable prospect.
“I cannot imagine how anyone could not like it,” she said, turning around and beaming at the younger woman. “It is lovely.”
“I am glad,” the girl said, obviously relieved. “Now Martha here will assist you with changing and can guide you to the Green Room.”
Elizabeth nodded cheerfully at the maid waiting near the door and said, “I will be there as quickly as I can!”
/
Green Room
Less than an Hour Later
The deep bay window commanded an elegant view of the front stream, and Darcy stood regarding it absently. His thoughts were not on the incredible view before him, but on the vibrant face of the woman he adored. The force of his own emotions had surprised him when he first saw her alight from the carriage. An all-encompassing joy had welled in his breast until he thought his heart would burst, the fierce longing that he had locked so carefully away leaping forth again.
It had seemed so very right to welcome her to Pemberley. She looked as though she fit, as though she had been made for that drive and that venerable front hall. But did she feel that way? That was, after all, where the crux lay. Did she feel like she belonged with Pemberley? With him?
He could not help but think, from her letters, that she did. She would not lead him on, teasing him and toying with his affections. Indeed, she was all honor and integrity, and from her tone, Darcy felt it safe to entertain the hope that they would soon be engaged.
“The Green Room, Miss Bennet,” a female voice said from behind him.
He turned hastily and found himself smiling as Elizabeth stepped into the room, now dressed in soft green, which matched the color of the curtains and carpet.
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said happily. “Thank you again for inviting us. Pemberley is truly marvelous.”
“Thank you,” Darcy said and realized that he was tongue tied. He wished to say something elegant and charming, but in the very presence of his love, nothing he could think of sounded right.
The sound of voices from the corridor interrupted the moment, and within seconds, Jane and Charles Bingley entered the room, arm in arm, with Mrs. Bingley’s lovely form swollen with new life. Husband and wife looked calm and content, and Darcy, as pleased as he was for his friend, could not help but feel a trifle envious, too.
A minute later, Georgiana and Anne arrived, followed by the two youngest Misses Bennet a minute later, until the entire party was seated comfortably on chairs and sofas. Soon after, servants entered with tea and trays containing piles of scones and muffins, and the party fell to eating and drinking with enthusiasm, with Georgiana pouring the tea. Darcy, still struggling to find words to speak, was grateful when Bingley, as was his wont, started the conversation.
