Give my love to Ma and my brothers and sisters.
Charles
Mr Philip Darcy to Mr Darcy
Wiltshire, May 18
My dear Darcy,
It is almost a month now since you left Rosings and I hope your infatuation has run its course. Do you ever think of the woman you spoke of, or has she faded into memory? Whatever the case, it would be better not to try yourself too far. You should continue to avoid her until the end of the year at least, and distract yourself with thoughts of other women. There are plenty here for you to choose from. Join me in Wiltshire, and bring Georgiana, too—I have not seen her for months and she will have changed a lot in that time. It will give her an opportunity to meet some new people, always good for a girl of her age. Besides, I would like your opinion on a young woman I am intending to marry. She offers everything a man of my standing has a right to look for in a wife. She is beautiful, well-bred and accomplished. I mean to offer for her next month.
PD
Mr Darcy to Mr Philip Darcy
Darcy House, London, May 20
My dear Philip,
Ashamed as I am to admit it, I have not been able to forget Elizabeth, though God knows I have tried. I have thrown myself into the Season and I have never been at home. By day I attend to business—and I have started several new works in order to fully occupy myself, including commissioning a new orangery at Pemberley—and when I am not dealing with business affairs I am riding or boxing or fencing; either that or escorting Georgiana on pleasure trips. By night I go to soirées, balls—indeed, any entertainment rather than remain at home and give myself time to think. But try as I might, the thought of her haunts me. I see her everywhere I go. I catch sight of the back of a woman’s head and think: Elizabeth! Then the woman turns and I see it is not she, and I am disappointed, even though I should not be; even though our time together was categorized by verbal sparring and not by pleasantries, and should be easy to forget. But the memory of her lingers. The day I proposed in particular will not leave me. I said some things to her that were, perhaps, better left unsaid. Even worse, I cannot forget her face as she told me I was the last man in the world she could ever be prevailed upon to marry.
It used to make me angry when I thought of it, but now I find myself doubting, and wondering whether I deserved her anger. I have been too used to having my own way, perhaps. It was not well done of me to throw the inferiority of her connections in her face, nor their behaviour. She has no control over either and so of what use was it to mention it, save to show my own magnanimity in overlooking them? And that was not only condescending but arrogant of me. I am beginning to understand why she refused me, and to think that if I had managed things better…but no, I said so at the time and she returned that I could not have offered her my hand in any way that would have induced her to accept it.
I feel myself growing angry again as I think of it…but also to admire her. How many women would have refused me, even if they did not love me nor even like me? I cannot think of one. But she refused me, even knowing she was turning down Pemberley, my fortune, my position, everything that goes with being my wife. There are few enough people with principles in the world, and even fewer who stick to them when temptation to abandon them offers, but she is that rare person, a woman of honour and integrity. And I have lost her. By my own arrogance, conceit and pride, I have disgusted her.
But I was not intending to think of her, let alone write of her. Your invitation comes at a good time, you see. A change of scene will perhaps encourage a change of thoughts. I will be glad to come to Wiltshire and I will bring Georgiana with me. You will be very pleased with her; she is quite lovely.
I have to be back in London in a few weeks—I have already sent out invitations to a picnic, or rather, Georgiana has—but you may expect us on Saturday.
Darcy
Miss Lydia Bennet to Miss Eleanor Sotherton
Hertfordshire, May 21
I am going to Brighton! I am going to Brighton! Lord! What a lark! Harriet is a darling! I knew she would invite me. Mama is delighted. Kitty is jealous and says she should have been invited because she is older than me, but Harriet is my particular friend. La! The streets will be paved with officers and I will be able to flirt to my heart’s content. There will be Denny and Pratt and Wickham and all the rest. They dined with us last night and Kitty was wild when we all talked about Brighton. Wickham spent a great deal of time talking to Lizzy about her stay in Kent as well, but he did not seem to like what he heard. I dare say he did not like to hear that Mr Darcy had been there. Who would like to hear about Mr Darcy? He does not even have a red coat.
You must write to me every day in Brighton, though I am sure I will be too busy to write to you. But I will write when I can. Tell your mama she must take you to Brighton—I am sure you can live there as cheaply as Bath—then we will have fun together. I am writing this in haste from Colonel Forster’s house because we leave here early tomorrow.
Love,
Lydia
Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Miss Susan Sotherton
Longbourn, Hertfordshire,
May 22
Dearest Susan,
The house is much quieter without Lydia, and Meryton seems deserted without the officers. Mama gave a last dinner for them and I had a chance to speak to Mr Wickham. The more I saw of him, the more I was convinced that Mr Darcy spoke the truth, for there was something alarmed in Mr Wickham’s eye when he saw that I had heard about the conditions attached to the living he was left, and he coloured when I said that I understood Mr Darcy better than I had done. I could not repress a smile when he said that Mr Darcy must have been on his best behaviour in front of Miss de Bourgh, as he wishes to marry her! But all in all I am not sorry that Mr Wickham has left us—a state of affairs I could not have guessed at a few short weeks ago.
As for Mr Darcy, I find that I view him with more compassion and respect than formerly, but I cannot forgive him for wounding my sister, and I am glad that he shows no signs of returning.
Although I am glad to see the regiment go, I must confess that our lives are much duller now. Our parties are less varied and we go out less often. I find myself looking forward more and more to my trip to the Lakes with my aunt and uncle.
Your friend,
Lizzy
Miss Lydia Bennet to Mrs Bennet
Brighton, May 27
Mama, you will never guess what we did yesterday: we went first of all to the library, where Denny and Wickham attended us, and where I saw such beautiful ornaments as made me wild. I have ordered a new gown and bought a new parasol, it is the darlingest thing, only I can say no more, Harriet is calling me, we are going out again!
Give my love to my sisters,
Lydia
Miss Lydia Bennet to Miss Kitty Bennet
Brighton, May 30
Kitty, you would die if you could see what we have all been up to here, we have been sea bathing, Harriet and I went in our underwear, DO NOT LET MAMA OR ANYONE ELSE KNOW. Things are different in Brighton, not so stuffy as they are at home. Lord! What fun we have. The men are all wild for me, I have a dozen different flirts. There are parties every night and I went to one last night dressed as a man. I borrowed Denny’s coat and breeches and wore a piece of wool as a moustache, I thought I would die laughing. Wickham was in on the joke, he laughed as much as anyone. There are a lot of new officers here, Jakes and Little and Madison, and a whole host of others, all laughing and joking and teasing and dancing and flirting; well most of them anyway. Some of them are ancient, friends of Colonel Forster’s who are here on leave, and all they talk about is the war. I am glad I am not married to Colonel Forster, he is far too old and stuffy, poor Harriet! She should have married Denny. Lord! Was there ever such a place as Brighton? Tomorrow we are going to have a bathing party by moonlight, I have bought a new bathing dress, it is quite scandalous. DO NOT TELL ANYONE.