I hardly know how to begin. There is so much that needs to be said, and I fear that much of it would be much better said in person. But I cannot wait, for I too desire to resolve the turmoil we have both experienced.
I shall first begin by saying that I have done us both a great disservice. I have been disingenuous and selfish. Do you recall your proposal in April? You came to the parsonage while Ihad a headache, the cause of which was learning that you had acted to deprive Jane of her future with Mr. Bingley. I needed time to come to terms with the information and wished only for solitude. Yet it was not to be.
You came upon me and began proposing before I understood what was occurring. Your words, spoken so fervently, pierced through the fog caused by the pain in my head. At first, I could scarcely believe that the proud, arrogant man who had insulted me now stood in my sister’s sitting room, professing ardent love and admiration for me. And then you began leveling insults at my family.
How could you propose with so little feeling and so evident a design of insulting me? Those were my thoughts, and I prepared to decline your ‘generous’ offer. At the time, I believed that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed upon to marry, and that we were entirely unsuited to each other.
And then Charlotte interrupted. I know she did it deliberately, for we spoke of it the next day. By that time, things had gone out of my control, though Jane and Charlotte had convinced me to consider the proposal before dismissing it out of hand. I learned that should I remain unmarried, both my mother and Mr. Collins had declared I would have no place with them. Mrs. Phillips would surely follow my mother’s lead, and I did not believe that burdening my aunt and uncle in London was the correct course, either.
I confess, I resolved to have my father deny his consent. It would save my reputation and your feelings, and none would be the wiser.
Here now, you will learn my ‘mercenary’ nature. When I saw my father, I knew I could not cry off. And so, I resolved to marry you and make the best of the situation I found myself in.
Despise me if you must, sir, but pray, finish this letter first. You see, after we married, I began looking for things to admire in you. I found more than I anticipated and continued finding exemplary qualities. Mixed in with the officious, proud man was a kind master, an attentive brother, and an endearing husband. There are other attributes, too, and I shall tell you each one when you return.
I confess that I do not love you… yet. I am not sure I understand what love is in any other than a familial manner. My feelings for you are complex and so very different that I must certainly be very well on the way. If there is truly chaos in Wiltshire, I shall await your return. But if you left for any other reason, I beg you not to delay. We cannot resolve this if you are not here.
Affectionately yours,
Elizabeth Darcy
Chapter Forty
August 15, 1812
Pemberley
Elizabeth
Dear Elizabeth,
I cannot tell you how very much I appreciate your letter. I did not expect a reply. Indeed, I expected to hear nothing from you until I returned.
Your desire to put things aright aligns with my own. I am very pleased to hear it. There is nothing we cannot solve when we are united in common purpose. Perhaps we only need to know each other better. Letters will have to fill that need whilst I complete my tasks.
Willow Grove is a prosperous little estate. My father purchased it for a younger son. Since none came, it became part of my inheritance. I suppose if we are blessed with morethan one son, it might go to him. There are several other estates included in my property as well. If we have daughters, we might grant them one as a dowry.
I digress. I received a letter from the steward. The stables here have burned to the ground. The horses stabled there are needed for the home farm. They are well, thankfully, but my presence was needed to oversee the removal of the rubble and to approve plans for new construction.
The same storm that caused the fire also caused flooding. Two tenant homes have washed away. There were no casualties, thankfully. The families have been put up in the manor house until new dwellings are constructed. The Millers will have a larger house than was washed away. Their family is large, and they need more space. I anticipate my efforts will take six weeks or more.
I hope to complete everything as quickly as possible. I cannot bear to be parted from you for long, not with this misunderstanding between us.
You say you do not know what love is, and so I respond with my own experience. Love is when you never wish to be parted from someone, when you pine for their absence. Love is when a person’s character draws you in, enthralling you in a way that withstands the test of time, the fading of beauty. I feel all this and more for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth.
Please, write to me. It will be a balm for me whilst I am away.
Yours forever,
F.D.
Dearest Fitzwilliam,
How dreadful for your tenants! I am glad that they will not be without shelter as you make arrangements. You are very kind and generous to open the manor house for them. Even now, I learn more things to admire about my husband.
The Bingleys departed the same day you left. Did you know? Jane spoke to Mr. Bingley before they departed. I ought not tell you what the conversation entailed, but there seems to be a pressing need for me to help you understand my sister. She told him that she will not entertain courtship or marriage if she cannot be sure that he will be loyal to her first.
My sister learned soon after her marriage that her husband’s first love, and thus his undying loyalty, was to Lady Catherine. She thought she could live with that and slowly entice his loyalties away from your aunt. We will never have an opportunity to learn if she was right. Because of her experience, she is determined that if she were to marry again, her husband’s heart should belong to her alone. I cannot say that I blame her.
