Lydia
JUNE
Colonel Fitzwilliam to Mr Darcy
Brighton, June 2
Darcy, I am home on leave and am visiting friends in Brighton before heading north. Colonel Forster is here and asks me to remember him to you. His wife is here, too, and a prettier creature it would be hard to imagine. She is young and gay and it is a pleasure to see her enjoying herself. She has a friend with her, a Miss Lydia Bennet. I cannot help wondering if she is any relation to your Miss Elizabeth Bennet—though perhaps I should not call her your Miss Elizabeth, as I am sure you will have overcome your feelings for her now. I have not yet seen Miss Lydia so I do not know if there is any resemblance, but I mean to ask her if there is a relationship when we meet.
Another acquaintance is here, and one less welcome: George Wickham. He bowed when he saw me but looked uncomfortable, as well he might. I was tempted to call him out but did not want to cause a scandaclass="underline" any action I take against him would lead to speculation and that is something I am determined to avoid. If not for this, I would gladly run him through.
How is my ward? Growing more beautiful every day, I am sure. I hear you are in Wiltshire at the moment: Mama knows everything! She and Maud are hoping for news of Philip’s intended, so you must write to them and let them know your opinion of her. Philip will have chosen some paragon, I am sure, but what is she really like? We rely on you to tell us.
My sister Maud will soon be presenting you with another godchild, so you must look about you for a christening present.
I do not believe I will have time to call in at Wiltshire on my way north to see my family, but I hope to see you in London, either on my way up to Cumbria or on my way back down again. When will you be leaving Wiltshire? I must be back with my regiment in a few weeks’ time. I would be there now if not for this confounded injury. With the French advancing towards Turin my place is on the Continent, not here, but I am little use as I am. I cannot sit a horse nor walk for any length of time and my right arm will not do my bidding. I only hope the Austrians throw Napoleon out of Italy and save me the trouble.
Your cousin,
Henry
Mr Darcy to Colonel Fitzwilliam
Wiltshire, June 4
Henry, it is good to hear from you, though frustrating for you to be home at such a time. The war shows no sign of ending and if not for the troops stationed at Brighton and other likely landing spots, we would be in some danger of Napoleon invading these shores. But the Channel protects us, as it has done before.
I did not know you had been injured. Would you like my physician to attend you? I can send him down to Brighton if you think he would be of use.
I will be returning to London in a few days’ time. Georgiana is hosting a picnic on the seventh and we must be there for that. You are welcome to join us. If you will not be returning to London so soon, then call in at Darcy House whenever you arrive; you know you are always welcome.
You ask about Philip’s intended bride. She is everything you imagine: beautiful, accomplished, elegant, well-bred, and yet—Henry, it is not enough. It is enough for Philip, he is pleased with his choice and she with him, but it is not enough for me. There are two similar females here, they possess everything a man could require of a wife, and yet I have no wish to marry either of them. I am happy to escort them in to dinner, to dance with them and converse with them, but to spend the rest of my life with them? No. I already know everything about them. There is nothing to discover, nothing to intrigue or stimulate. They never change. Their thoughts and feelings are what they were a year ago, and will be the same when another year has gone by. Marriage to either one of them would be like bathing in tepid water: nothing to complain of, but nothing to desire either.
You will tell from this that I have not forgotten Elizabeth. I have tried, but the more I see of other women, the more I know that Elizabeth is the only one I have ever wished to marry. She is not perfect—far from it—but it is her flaws and imperfections that entrance me—those, and her eyes. I want to see them looking back at me across the breakfast table; I want to see them sparkling with mischief as she teases me; I want to see them widen as I show her all the delights of Pemberley and offer them to her, not with arrogance but with humility.
But it is pointless to think of such things.
I am beginning to wish I had not encouraged Bingley to leave the neighbourhood. But of what use would it be for me to return there? Elizabeth made her feelings for me clear; though perhaps it would lessen her ill opinion of me if she could see that some of her reproofs have been attended to.
But this is idle speculation. I will torment myself with it no more.
Come to us as soon as you can in London; Georgiana is longing to see you.
Your cousin,
Darcy
Colonel Fitzwilliam to Mr Darcy
Brighton, June 5
I will not be in town in time for your picnic, alas. I am here with Wilkins and I am at his disposal. He arranges the business just as he pleases: the privilege of wealth! I do not think we will remain here very much longer, however, and I hope to join you in London soon. I will be glad to see you again but I will be sorry to leave Brighton. The sea breeze is refreshing and the fishermen’s nets set out to dry on the Steine give the place charm.
You must bring Georgiana here for the summer, Darcy; the sea air will do her good and the south coast will not have the unpleasant memories for her that the east coast must have. The pleasure gardens, the promenades and the libraries will amuse her. They are all flourishing, thanks to the patronage of the Prince of Wales, who spends more and more of his time here. They say he means to leave London altogether and live in Brighton permanently. It is certainly possible; he is enlarging his marine pavilion and making it fit for a prince. It is a very handsome dwelling, but even so I think he is in error for spending so much on his amusements when the country is at war. He ought to be retrenching so that he can better equip the troops. I said so only last night to Colonel Forster when we dined together.
By the bye, Forster’s wife’s friend, Miss Lydia Bennet, is indeed a relation of your Miss Elizabeth, a sister. I have seen her only once, briefly, as she was going out with Colonel Forster’s wife, but I had a chance to speak to her and ascertained that her family were well before she set off for the shops with Harriet. It amazes me that women can spend so much time shopping, but Lydia and Harriet look very well on it.
Look for me on the sixteenth.
Henry
Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Miss Susan Sotherton