Page 42

Miss Darcy’s letter seemed innocent enough at first - cheerful descriptions of her cousin Lady Rowena’s visit, tales of winter’s thick snow and treacherous ice, gentle observations about preferring Pemberley to town in winter.

Like her previous letter, this one ended with a wistful hope that her brother might soon allow her to visit Hertfordshire.

Elizabeth turned the page, expecting perhaps a post-script. Instead, her breath caught - there was another letter entirely, written in that same bold hand she had recognised on the address. The paper shook in her grasp as she unfolded it, her heart thundering against her ribs.

The second letter began formally:

Miss Elizabeth Bennet

Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, that it contain any repetition of those inquiries that were, last evening so disgusting to you.

But I must be allowed to speak to you, by whatever means are within my grasp and the effort which the formation and the perusal of this letter must occasion should have been spared, had not my character required it to be written and read.

You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, but I demand it of your justice.

Elizabeth’s hands trembled violently as she read the first lines.

“How dare he!” The thought burst forth with all her old spirit, her fingers clenching the paper until it crackled.

“Has he no regard for propriety? For my position?” Heat flooded her cheeks - that familiar, righteous indignation that only Mr Darcy seemed capable of provoking.

Had he not already caused her enough turmoil?

I apologise for the deception of concealing my letter within that of my sister’s.

The simple admission caught her off guard. Her eyes traced the words again, anger faltering in the face of his directness. What more could he possibly have to say? Despite her determination to remain indignant, she found herself leaning closer, curiosity overwhelming her initial outrage.

As she continued reading, Elizabeth felt an uncomfortable twist in her stomach.

“I told him to leave,” she remembered, the words echoing in her mind with new weight.

Had she, once again, been too quick to judge?

Too harsh in her dismissal of a man who had only ever shown her consideration, even when she had given him none in return?

I am sure that you will have heard by now that my sister, Georgiana, will be joining Mr Bingley at Netherfield Park, with his sister.

I have done as you asked madam, and I have removed myself from the neighbourhood.

They will be setting out for Hertfordshire in a few days and accompanying them will be my good friend, Doctor Russell.

He will be remaining the neighbourhood for sometime.

He is a good man, who I have the utmost faith in.

And I hope that he might be able to provide some small assistance.

Her eyes lingered on the mention of Doctor Russell.

“…might be able to provide some small assistance.” Elizabeth’s heart quickened traitorously.

Even now, even from London, was he still trying to help her?

For one dangerous moment, she allowed herself to imagine what that might mean - but no. She could not afford such thoughts.

Two offences, you laid to my charge, that I should have acted sooner, to which I can only say that you are quite correct.

I should have acted sooner. In my defence, I had seen Mr Collins’s preference for you, but I did not believe that there was any cause for concern on that count.

I knew enough of your character to believe that you would not commit yourself to someone who you did not consider your equal.

I was ignorant of the circumstances. I will not cause you more pain by relating again the reasons why I did not act sooner.

The second charge was that my behaviour towards you, since learning of your engagement, is not that of a gentleman’s.

Again here I am forced to agree with you, my behaviour has not been as I would wish it.

I will endeavour to conduct myself in a manner more befitting a gentleman in the future.

I sincerely hope that you find the happiness that you seek for.

I will only add, God bless you.

Fitzwilliam Darcy

His frank acknowledgment of her accusations struck her with unexpected force.

He had not defended himself, had not tried to justify his actions.

Instead, he had done something far more disarming - he had agreed with her.

His words about her character, about believing she would never accept someone she did not consider her equal, pierced straight through her carefully constructed defences.

The admission of his own improper behaviour since learning of her engagement brought a fresh wave of emotion.

She could still see his face that day at Netherfield, the raw pain he had failed to hide.

His final wish for her happiness felt like both blessing and farewell, and something in her chest constricted painfully at the thought.

Elizabeth set the letter down with trembling fingers, her mind a tempest of conflicting emotions.

How was it that one man could shatter her composure so thoroughly?

She had been so certain of her path, had convinced herself that duty and necessity would be enough.

Now, with just a few lines of ink on paper, Mr Darcy had stripped away all her careful rationalisations.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, pressing her fingers to her temples.

“I don’t understand him, or myself.” Her eyes strayed back to the letter lying innocently on her lap.

Part of her longed to memorise every word, while another part wanted to cast it into the fire and pretend it had never existed.

With sudden determination, she set the pages aside and moved to the window, seeking refuge in the familiar view. But even here, his words followed her:

‘I have done as you asked, madam, and I have removed myself from the neighbourhood.’

The realisation struck her anew - he had done exactly as she demanded, though it clearly pained him.

And now he was sending his sister in his stead…

She began to pace, her thoughts racing. He had offered no explanation for Georgiana’s visit, but she could guess his purpose well enough.

Even now, he was trying to help her, though she had given him no reason to do so.

Elizabeth’s eyes strayed back to the letter, drawn to those final lines once more. ‘I sincerely hope that you find the happiness that you seek for.’ Her heart quickened as she considered-

“Lizzy! What are you doing hiding up here?”

Elizabeth started violently, nearly dropping the letter as Lydia and Kitty burst into the room. Hastily, she tucked it beneath her book, her cheeks burning.

“Lizzy, are you quite well? You look positively feverish,” Lydia said, peering at her sister curiously.

“I am perfectly fine,” Elizabeth replied, forcing a smile even as Mr Darcy’s words echoed in her mind. “What did you need?”

“Lizzy, Sir William is hosting a party,” Kitty said happily.

“Carter, Wickham, Denny and well all of the officers are all to be there,” Lydia interrupted, “and Charlotte is to come back.”

“That is good news indeed. It has been too long since I saw Charlotte.” Elizabeth welcomed the distraction. “When is this party?”

“Tomorrow evening. Lady Lucas was just here,” Kitty said, settling beside her sister.

“La, you have not even told her the best bit yet!” Lydia exclaimed, bouncing onto the bed.

“Charlotte is being courted by a sailor. Can you imagine Charlotte, a navy captain’s wife?”

Elizabeth smiled despite herself. “And does this dashing sailor have a name?”

“Captain Northam,” Kitty supplied. “And I think it is romantic.”

“I would rather have an officer in the army than a sea captain in the navy courting me. Mama says that sailors are never handsome, something about the salt in the water.” Lydia giggled.

“Well then, it is a good job that Captain Northam is courting Charlotte and not you,” Elizabeth said, causing both her sisters to laugh.

* * *

Wednesday 26th of February 1812

Darcy House - Georgiana

Dawn had barely touched the windows of Darcy House when Georgiana gave up trying to sleep.

She had tossed and turned all night, her mind alternating between concern for her brother and nervous anticipation about seeing Hertfordshire - though if she was honest with herself, the former far outweighed the latter.

The breakfast room felt oddly empty without Fitzwilliam in his usual place. She had hoped to see him before leaving to call on Miss Bingley, but Mrs Williams appeared instead, her familiar face creased with worry.

“The master left very early this morning, Miss Darcy,” the housekeeper reported. “Didn’t take so much as a cup of tea.” She hesitated before adding, “He didn’t say where he was going.”

She managed a few bites of toast to satisfy Mrs Williams’ concerned glances, then retreated to her room to finish her preparations.

The travelling dress she had chosen lay ready - a soft blue that Fitzwilliam had once said brought out her eyes.

Her trunk was packed, everything arranged with the precision Mrs Annesley had taught her.

Only one decision remained. After a moment’s hesitation, she retrieved her music portfolio.

The newest pieces she had been practising - including that challenging Mozart sonata - might interest Elizabeth.

The thought of sharing music with her friend brought the first genuine smile to her face since her brother’s strange behaviour at dinner.

Yet even as she secured the portfolio’s ribbons, she couldn’t shake her unease. What state would she find her brother in when she returned from Miss Bingley’s? If he returned at all before they departed for Hertfordshire…

A soft knock at her door interrupted her worried thoughts. “Miss Darcy? The carriage is being brought round,” Mrs Annesley said gently. “And Doctor Russell has arrived.”

Georgiana gathered her courage along with her portfolio.

Whatever her brother’s reasons for sending her to Hertfordshire, whatever his current state of mind, she would not disappoint him.

She had spent too long being the sister who needed protection.

Perhaps it was time she did some protecting of her own.

Doctor Russell proved to be exactly as her brother had described - neither particularly tall nor notably handsome, but carrying himself with quiet authority that put her immediately at ease.

His wire-rimmed spectacles and gentle manner reminded her of her old tutor, though there was something keener in his gaze as he studied her.

The addition of Miss Bingley to their party brought its own complications.

Her effusive greetings and endless chatter about dear Charles filled the carriage, making any real conversation impossible.

Perhaps that was for the best - Georgiana wasn’t sure she could maintain her composure if asked direct questions about their destination.

As London’s familiar streets gave way to open countryside, Georgiana found her thoughts drifting to Elizabeth.

What changes would she find in her friend?

The brief glimpse she’d had in London had shown her an Elizabeth she barely recognised - subdued, almost resigned.

Nothing like the vibrant young woman who had first drawn her out of her shell at Pemberley.

She touched the music portfolio in her lap. Somehow, she would find a way to help - if not to change Elizabeth’s circumstances, then at least to ease her friend’s burden. And perhaps, in doing so, she might ease her brother’s as well.

Miss Bingley’s voice droned on about the delights awaiting them at Netherfield, but Georgiana barely heard her.

Her mind was already in Hertfordshire, planning how best to approach Elizabeth without arousing suspicion.

The irony did not escape her - she who had once needed such careful protection was now becoming protector herself.

She straightened her shoulders slightly.

Whatever challenges lay ahead, she would face them.

For Elizabeth’s sake. For her brother’s.

And perhaps, she realised with quiet surprise, for her own.