21 April, 1838
Dear Fitzwilliam,
I have arrived safely at Longbourn and things are as we expected. My father is hiding in his bookroom. He looks so much older since I saw him last year. He is three and seventy years old, but he has always seemed so young in my mind.
Mary is managing admirably and runs the house with efficiency and prudence. I was surprised my mother allowed her to take over its management when she did, but I suppose she was tired of bothering with it. She has been mistress of the estate for nearly fifty years now.
Now for the news you are waiting for. Forgive me for keeping you in suspense. My mother is truly ill this time. She has not left her rooms in nearly a fortnight, and she sleeps most of the time. The doctor is unsure of what ails her, but he said he has seen similar things before. Everything that can be done for her comfort has been done. There is no way of knowing how long she will linger like this. It could be days, it could even be months.
For the time being, I am settling in to wait it out. If she recovers, I will join you and the children in Town. If she does not, I will send for you.
I know Elinor is in the middle of her season and the timing is not ideal, but these things never are. I have written to Lady Victoria to ask for her assistance and she has said she is more than happy to escort Elinor about as much as our daughter can withstand. Victoria might be my favorite of your cousins, but do not tell Richard I said so.
I will likely continue on here for some weeks, so do not wait on me to enjoy yourselves. My mother might yet recover—she has done so before.
I love you dearly, my husband. Try to enjoy the season as much as you are able.
Your wife,
Elizabeth
Darcy House, London
24 April, 1838
My Dear Wife,
I am sorry you are sitting vigil at your mother’s bedside—it is a difficult and heartbreaking position and one I wish I could spare you from. I have asked for a crate of fruit to be sent to Longbourn as well as your father’s favorite wine. Mrs. Landers has made up a hamper of your favorites, including plenty of that chocolate you love in the morning, and will send it with Joseph, who has volunteered to deliver everything to Longbourn.
He will likely stay on with you all—he feels things deeply and he has a great affection for your mother.
Have your other sisters arrived? I am glad to hear that Mary has found her place at last. I remember being surprised five years ago when you told me she would assume the management of Longbourn, but it sounds like it has been good for the both of them. Do you suppose your mother was feeling ill even then? I know she has never felt particularly healthy, but she has always seemed robust to me until the last few years. It could have merely been age making itself known.
Elinor is enjoying her season. I know you would like to be here with her, and I am sure she would prefer it as well, but she is not as engaged as we had thought she would be. She seems to have an aversion for large parties and noisome people. I cannot say I am surprised—she is remarkably like me in other ways, but I would wish her to have more ease in society than I have had. She is much as she was in the Little Season. She has her close friends whom she enjoys spending time with, and she pays little heed to the hangers-on who would try to curry her favor.
Suitors have their eye on her, as we knew they would. Lord Danbury has let it be known he would like to make an offer if I am amenable. I have told him I would not consider approving a marriage until she is twenty, or nearly so, and told him she was only now eighteen. He was dismayed, but thanked me for the honesty. I saw him at a party at my cousins making love to Leticia Cromwell, so I gather he has moved on well enough.
I am glad we waited for her to be eighteen to come out and have decided to wait even longer for her to marry. She will have this year and next to meet people and see what the Ton is about, and the following year she can begin looking more seriously, though I would be happy to have her with us always. The boys are all terribly protective of her. Jack glares at anyone who comes near her, and Joseph is often a statue at her side. If Thomas were not away at university, I am certain he would be just as bad.
Young Charlie Bingley is more like your sister than his father, which means he has yet to fall in love with anyone—a mercy I am supremely grateful for—and he and Elinor are often found in the same group of friends. I had wondered if a romance would spring up between them and I was more than a little concerned. You know how I feel about cousins marrying. But when I mentioned it to her, she was utterly disgusted and told me she looks on him as a brother and the idea is abhorrent to her. You should have seen her face! You would have had a great laugh.
Bennet is doing well, and thankfully no one seems to have caught his eye, though he is greatly sought after, as we knew he would be. I can hear you now, saying that with my looks and your charm, how could he be anything but? But I must disagree with you and say that even without charm or good looks, a firstborn son with a wealthy estate is always desirable.
Frederick and Richard are doing well in school. Bennet stopped to visit them on his way to Town. They still pull their old trick of trading places with one another, but one of the other students tired of it and shaved a section of hair just above Richard’s ear clean off, and now everyone can tell which is which. Bennet informed me that Rich tried to convince Fred to do the same on his hair, but F refused. I am glad to see they can have differing opinions at least some of the time.
I do wonder how they will fare once they are out of university and need to find wives and begin families of their own. I suppose it is too much to hope for a pair of twin sisters to marry them? It could be ideal, though I imagine their children would be nearly identical.
I am musing, as I do when I am tired and missing my wife. I know we have been separated less than a fortnight, but I miss you nonetheless.
Take care of yourself, my dear. I will find time soon to come and visit for a day or two.
All my love,
FD
Longbourn, Hertfordshire
27 April, 1838
