Page 47 of Moments Frozen in Time (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

Later, upon retiring to his study, Fitzwilliam discovered a letter from Mr. Bingley, which only strengthened our decision that the visit must be brief.

In it, Mr. Bingley excused much of his sister’s behaviour and asked Fitzwilliam to intervene with Jane, hoping to restore their relationship.

He admitted he had not yet visited Longbourn but expressed a wish to make amends, trusting Fitzwilliam, as her brother, might persuade Jane to see him.

In the end, we resolved to time our journey so as to call at Longbourn in the morning for a short visit, then proceed to Netherfield for no more than an hour. Neither stop would require an overnight stay, and with a prompt departure, we could be in London before nightfall.

Before we had left the inn in Scotland, I had rewritten my letter to my aunt and uncle to inform them that I had been found and was now married to Fitzwilliam.

I wrote a similar letter to Charlotte Lucas, trusting that she would share its contents with Jane.

A few days after our arrival, I received two more letters, one from each of my correspondents.

In yet another shocking realisation, I learnt that Charlotte Lucas was no longer in Hertfordshire, nor was she any longer Charlotte Lucas.

Just after the new year, she had married my father’s cousin, something Jane had not thought to include in her letters before now.

However, Lady Lucas had opened the letter addressed to Charlotte, and, seeing that it came from me, had surreptitiously passed it off to Jane .

Jane’s letter to me expressed her delight that I had been discovered and was now married to Fitzwilliam, and in it, she wrote to me of all the things she had hesitated to write before now.

My dearest Lizzy,

I am ashamed to say how our parents have behaved since your departure.

Most of our neighbours have shunned them entirely.

They have not been invited to a single event since that night.

A few kind souls speak to me when they find me alone or approach me after church—which I now attend in the company of the Hills, as neither Papa nor Mama has felt it proper to show their faces.

In truth, Mama has scarcely left her room since the day Aunt Phillips came to scold her for her treatment of you.

She says very little about what happened, although she continues to lament how unfairly she believes her former friends have treated her.

As for Mr. Collins—he left Longbourn the morning after the ball with hardly a word, and we assumed he had returned to Kent.

Imagine my surprise when I heard the banns read on Sunday for his marriage to Charlotte.

I was stunned, to say the least, since I had believed she was being courted by another.

The following day, Charlotte came to speak with me in person and explained her reasoning.

Her suitor had departed without offering the proposal he had all but promised, and she confessed she was weary of feeling like a burden to her family.

While Mr. Collins is far from the match I had hoped she would make, I know he is not cruel—and perhaps, in time, Charlotte may influence him for the better.

After hearing her words, I found I could not be angry.

She has assured me that, should I ever find myself in need of refuge, I would be welcome in Kent after her marriage—and that I would always have a place at Longbourn.

Given all that Mama has done, I find it rather fitting that the next mistress of Longbourn will at least possess a measure of sense.

At the time, I believed it best to remain near Netherfield in hopes that, with care and persistence, I might learn something from Miss Bingley.

I thought perhaps if I attended her often enough, she might eventually wake and reveal where you were.

But now I see that was a foolish hope. She never intended to tell me, or anyone else, anything .

Since my last visit to Netherfield, I have taken to scouring the gossip columns in Papa’s papers.

I found a few pieces I believe may refer to you or Mr. Darcy.

The references are subtle, and perhaps only those of us who know the truth would recognise them—but once your marriage is announced, I fear others may discern the connexion.

I have enclosed the clippings with this letter.

I hope that you and Mr. Darcy will have time to devise a plan to counter any scandal or speculation that may arise.

If it is possible, you should come to London and be seen in society as soon as you are able.

I also stayed in hopes of supporting Mr. Bingley as he dealt with his sister, and you know I held him in some regard.

But the past few months have shown me another side of him—one I fear I had not seen before.

I no longer believe he is the sort of man I ought to marry.

Even if he were to ask me, I would not accept.

Mama would be furious to learn this, for her only consolation in these past months has been her belief that my engagement is merely delayed by Miss Bingley’s illness.

Lizzy, when you come to London, I hope you will invite me to join you. Ordinarily, I would never beg an invitation, but I no longer wish to remain in Hertfordshire. Although our neighbours do not hold me responsible for Papa and Mama, I have come to realise that there is nothing left for me here.

With all my love,

Jane

I sighed as I finished reading Jane’s letter and passed it to Fitzwilliam, who accepted it with a furrowed brow.

He had received one of his own from his Aunt Matlock, raising concerns about the same troubling rumours that had begun to circulate in the London papers.

Although I remained unknown in society and my name was not mentioned directly, the insinuations were clear enough.

According to the gossip, Fitzwilliam had carried on a dalliance with a country miss—an indiscretion that had supposedly ended in scandal and a hasty journey to Scotland to hide the resulting consequences.

The more salacious columns speculated about a secret affair and hinted at the possibility of a mésalliance .

One paper went so far as to suggest that certain members of Fitzwilliam’s family viewed the match with contempt, although it did not name them outright.

After a brief discussion, we agreed that we must go to London as soon as it could be arranged—to be seen and to put an end to the speculation.