Enemies

5 September 1812
Gracechurch Street

Dearest Sisters,

Would you feel terribly bad if I were hung for murdering our sister? I only ask as a point of reference, as I would judge that the most likely outcome of any further exposure to her. Aside from Mrs. Bennet, she is the most ill‑mannered, ill‑bred and ignorant female it has ever been my displeasure to know, or in fact ever heard of. I now repent the loss of the Bingley sisters, as they would be an improvement.

I have been charged with informing my sisters that Lydia has been found, and she will be married from Gracechurch Street in our local parish. Uncle has been looking for her these three weeks days, and meeting with various gentlemen who were instrumental in the search while I was attending my employment. Mr. Ellery is quite satisfied with the business arrangements Uncle made in Derbyshire, and has given me the honor of acting not only as clerk, but as his agent in a more responsible position than I ever imagined. Aside from the need to periodically travel to the hated northern county, it is everything wonderful. But, as you can see, I digress again as I am avoiding the unpleasant story that is your due.

I came home to Gracechurch Street last night, and found Lydia thoroughly unrepentant, and boasting of her upcoming marriage. I thought she was quite touched in the head, but Aunt assured me that it had been arranged. I cannot imagine what it must have cost our uncle to accomplish it. I had been previously made aware of Wickham's level of debt, and it is substantial. He also seems to have a commission in the regulars, and that must have cost as well. I cannot see how Uncle managed it for less than £7-10,000. Such a sum is more than Mr. Bennet could possibly pay back in his lifetime, even should he attempt it, as Longbourn's total income is short of £2,000 and Mrs. Bennet overspends her allowance nearly every day. It would seem we are more indebted to Aunt and Uncle than we can ever repay.

Lydia was both boasting of her good fortune, and simultaneously berating Aunt because she was not to get a trousseau, or any new dresses or bonnets. Lydia had apparently been chastising Aunt for some time in this manner before I arrived home, and no amount of words from either of our lips could silence the little hoyden. I must admit, that at that moment I could well have killed her. Instead, I took the much more sensible approach of simply grabbing her ear like a misbehaving schoolboy, and dragging her up the stairs by it. Once above stairs, I simply locked her in a spare bedroom and told her I would be back for her when her wedding was arranged. She stormed around, breaking things and generally making herself every bit the worthless individual her mother has been crafting this last decade, but at long last relented. I have taken the bold step of forbidding Aunt and all the servants from so much as talking to her or even walking by her door, which Uncle found most amusing, but agreed to.

I sent a note to Mr. Ellery begging a few days leave to deal with her, as there is no possibility I will force Aunt or her children to deal with the miserable chit. She is to be my cross to bear for the next two days until the wedding, and I will worry about just how far my own manners and language have fallen after that event is complete.

I have discussed the arrangements with Aunt and Uncle in some detail. I will stand up with Lydia, simply because I cannot imagine saddling anyone else with the miserable chore. Uncle and I will escort her to the church to meet her sorry excuse for a groom, who apparently is obliged to complete the ceremony or be turned over to the magistrate for debtor's prison. Given the choice of Lydia or a life in debtor's prison, I am not certain he made the right choice, but I am somewhat satisfied that the two of them are most suitable for each other, and they are both removing themselves from the company of the rest of the world. Uncle also appraised me of what their income will be, and while they will survive, Lydia has not the slightest idea of how unwell they will live. Her education is about to begin in earnest.

We will host a wedding breakfast at Gracechurch street, but Aunt has wisely sent her children away to a friend's house until after the couple has departed. I will do my best to refrain from strangling either or both of them, so I would ask you to wish me luck or patience.

Now I must come to the most distressing part for you. They are to visit Longbourn for nearly a se'nnight, before repairing to his commission, which is apparently as far north as you can get and still be on English soil. With any luck, he will be shipped off to the continent and either killed or tamed. I begged Uncle to stop this mad plan, but both Aunt and Uncle assure me that a very public visit to the neighborhood is the only thing that will restore our reputations. He plans to simply tell Mrs. Bennet a bald-faced lie about the whole affair, and she will spread it around like wildfire. You must endure them for a se'nnight, and then they will be off forever.

I must close now to get some supper for Lydia. I refuse to let her out of her bedroom if she will not be civil, and I must admit to being pessimistic.

Your bedraggled sister
Lizzy

Astonishment

7 September 1812
Gracechurch Street

Dearest Jane and Mary,

Thank you both for your wonderful letter, and I especially thank you for managing to send it express. You have no idea how much it warms my heart to know I have two such wonderful sisters, and today I need all the reminder of worthy sisters I can get.

I hear Lydia preparing to face her wedding day, so I shall add to this letter after the hateful event has transpired.

I have endured Lydia's wedding day now, and the party has finally, departed so I may deliver the surprising news of the day, but prepare yourselves for a shock. All previous exclamations of absolute astonishment are to be completely forgotten, as I have had the most surreal experience of my life… well, actually two in rapid succession.

The first was that Lydia was reasonably quiet and polite as we made her ready for her wedding and escorted her to the church. I have come to really think the worst of her in every way and even though that is uncharitable of me, considering how much she has cost our aunt and uncle as well as all our sisters, with no regard for consequences whatsoever, I find I cannot and will not forgive her. Perhaps someday in the far future I may relent slightly, but not today or anytime soon.

Aunt continues to show how a true lady acts, and helped Lydia make up one of her dresses as well as could be done, then patiently listened to her prattling on about lack of trousseau or new dresses or bonnets with astonishing patience. For my part, I kept starting at her ear, and willing myself to not grab it and drag her back upstairs, but compared to that first day, she was an absolute lady.

As you would expect, there were just Aunt and Uncle in attendance, along with me standing up with Lydia. That idea obviously filled me with mortification, as if I would approve the union, but it is my duty to my other sisters, and I agreed to perform the office as I could not ask one more thing of our aunt.

We walked to the local parish, and entered a big cavernous building that looked thoroughly forlorn and lonely with just the four of us making up the party while waiting for the groom to appear. I was doing my best to not weep, and our least sensible sister was doing her best to not dance around in raptures. It was quite disconcerting.

The doors opened again, we all turned to the back, and I had the very most shocking experience of my life. It quite exceeded Mr. Collins' proposal by a wide margin, every shock of the previous month, and the nasty letter from Mrs. Bennet combined. All of those were as nothing compared to the extreme surprise of finding Mr. Darcy standing up with Wickham. I must confess, I could do nothing except stand beside Lydia in open faced astonishment whilst the vows were read. Such was my shock, I did not even flinch when hearing Lydia and that man say words like love and honor without the slightest indication that they understood the irony.

Once the ceremony concluded, I found myself signing my name next to Mr. Darcy's in the wedding register, yet another experience I would never in my life have anticipated. His countenance was not that of a man doing something he enjoyed, but more like a man on his way to the gallows; or come to think of it, a man who had already been there. I have never seen such a look of abject misery, and I was quite at a loss to explain it. I had no idea why he was there at all, let alone with such an expression, but I must confess it was not very long before my suspicions were aroused to the fullest.

Before we quit the church, Mr. Darcy stepped aside with the despicable groom and Uncle Gardiner, and a sheaf of papers were all signed with little ceremony. Wickham (I will never call him either 'brother' or 'mister') signed with a flourish and a despicable snigger, and Mr. Darcy signed with grim determination. But that was not the oddest part, no not at all. I was at the time quite befuddled, and fully unable to find any explanation for the phenomena, but Uncle Gardiner did not sign anything! Nothing at all! Not a single parchment. All he did was place himself in a position I could not understand, until I noted that it would be very difficult for Mr. Darcy to see me observing the proceedings. The gentleman had quite forgotten me, but I suspect had he had all his wits about him, they would have gone somewhere more private for the nasty business. I know the look of business documents, and there is no doubt in my mind that Wickham was being paid to marry our sister, and being paid a substantial sum.

Such was my level of confusion that it took me a full five minutes or more to comprehend the only possible explanation. I am certain you will have worked it out by now, but I could not think properly. By the time I realized the only possible explanation, I ran out of the church as if chased by wolves, trying to shout my profound thanks, but I was too late. The gentleman, and I am now heartily ashamed I refused to use that appellation a mere few weeks ago, was in his carriage and leaving. My thanks were shouted to the wind, and I am quite certain he did not hear me.

My only hope now, and it is a forlorn one, is that one day I may encounter him in the blacksmith shop when I go to Lambton for Mr. Ellery and may give him my thanks before he has time to run away. I am determined that shall happen, for as I am quite certain you are now aware; the only possible explanation for his actions in the church is that he paid for everything. Had Uncle Gardiner done so as I had always assumed, then he would have had to sign, but Mr. Darcy was the only gentleman to leave the church with ink on his fingers.

When I returned, I braced Uncle about it. Clever man had to tell me that in fact, Mr. Darcy had done much more than I surmised. Not only did he buy the commission and pay Wickham's debts, but he also found the couple, tried to talk Lydia into leaving Wickham, offered to find her a worthier husband, and finally made all the arrangements to save the Bennet sisters when she would not be moved. Why he should do so is quite beyond me, but he seems to have felt honor bound. The only possible explanation I can come up with is that he must have known Wickham's propensities last winter but chose not to warn our family, and his honor demanded that he offer the protection now that he omitted back then. Nothing else makes the slightest sense to me, and even that one stretches credulity to the limit. Uncle said he had agreed with Mr. Darcy to never tell me what he had done, which was why Uncle, clever man that he was, found a way for me to work it out on my own without actually telling me.

So, dear sisters, I must say that I am heartily ashamed of most of the things I said about him. He was arrogant and rude in Hertfordshire, and he either saved Jane from an indifferent suitor or destroyed her happiness with his interference; but I believe more reflection will produce a much more charitable explanation for that event as well. I also surmised from what Uncle told me about the date he first met with the gentleman, he must have left Pemberley within hours of my leaving Miss Darcy, and rode straight to London to start his search.

All I can say is that this day's actions have shown him to be a true gentleman, and quite possibly the best man I have ever known. I only hope for a chance to thank him one day, because he has truly saved all my sisters.

Your beloved sister
Lizzy

Reflection

15 October 1812
Gracechurch Street

Dearest Jane and Mary,

I must say I enjoy our habit of combined letters that we have established since my journey to the wilds of Derbyshire, as it makes me feel almost as if the three of us are stuffed together in bed chattering away under the covers like we did when we were little girls. The last month or more since Lydia's wedding have rushed by like a thunderstorm.

Uncle Gardiner and Mr. Ellery have been loading me with work practically from dawn to dusk every day, and I must confess it is the most exciting time of my life. I find that being useful sits quite well with me, and I can hardly bear he thought of idleness. In fact, as you well know, pride is my worst character defect, and even though the last year has ground it down practically to nothing, it is now on the mend. Uncle Gardiner and Mr. Ellery are both very happy with my work, and Mr. Ellery has even increased my wage. In another bow towards good sense and away from convention, he says he pays for value delivered instead of effort expended or gender. I seem to have a knack for pulling information out of ledgers, manifests and other business documents that is not obvious to a casual observer, and the business I assist them with is doing very well. I can proudly say I have prevented more than one error that would have been costly if not detected. In fact, Mr. Ellery has even had me act as his agent a few times, and I show some talent in the. craft. I believe the gentlemen are doing an experiment to see whether having a woman perform the negotiations makes the results worse because men will not deal with me, or better because they underestimate me. To date, the latter seems to be the primary case, so I am gadding about all over London with a footman for protection.

The footman that usually accompanies me, Mr. Samson, is as big and burly as a maple tree, has a frightening looking scar from his right eye running down his cheek that he acquired fighting on the continent and wears a most disagreeable expression. He is in fact, quite the most frightening looking man I have ever seen; except when his eyes are directed toward his intended. Then he looks like a weeks old piglet. They are to wed in a fortnight's time, and I have the privilege of standing up with his betrothed; mostly because I introduced them (not matchmaking – an introduction does not a match make). My only pretension to the dark arts I will admit to is that I have from time to time asserted on some of my journeys about town that I require a maid, for unspoken and vague female reasons. That is not matchmaking… just thoroughly enjoying the look of two young people in love. Betsy works in Uncle's household and Mr. Samson in Mr. Ellery's, but I am quite certain a change in employment for one or the other will happen after their wedding, as I have seen the two gentlemen looking at them carefully and subtly making plans; well as subtle as a bull charging anyway.

I am extremely distressed that Mrs. Bennet has forbidden permission for either of you to visit me in town yet again, and as usual disappointed in Mr. Bennet's inability to exert himself to overrule her. Absent doing something so egregious she drives you out of the house like she did me, I can see no recourse. However, I do have a suggestion. I am to travel with Mr. Ellery and his wife in a few weeks' time, and will be gone at least a month. Perhaps one or both of you can get the hateful woman to allow you to visit the Gardiners in my absence if you tell her you plan to take Mr. Bennet's hunting rifle and try to bag a husband. I am very unhappy I will not be able to see you, but I would so much like to see you out of that poisonous household.

In fact, I have already taken steps to get my employers assistance in setting up my own establishment, so I do not plan to return to Gracechurch street after my next trip. That will allow me to see you, so long as you can stand the small subterfuge of reporting back to Mrs. Bennet that I no longer reside near Gracechurch street. It is not as if you must report the entire population of London. I believe it is time to put all the hurts of the past year behind us, and being out of Hertfordshire should help, and of course there is nothing in the world better than the soothing balm our aunt's presence. She is the only reason I am still sane. You need not even worry about expense. I saved most off the pin money I received before it was cut off, and would not be surprised to see Uncle supplement yours for the visit. Aunt Gardiner is quite frustrated with my lack of interest in the modiste, so I suspect you may be the victims of her desire to dress at least one elder niece well.

As I am certain you must be thinking, today is one year to the day since that fateful assembly in Meryton, when we met the two gentlemen that were to have such a profound effect on us. Jane, I take you at your word that you are well over Mr. Bingley's abrupt departure, and as you know, everything about Mr. Darcy is vexingly confusing, but you will notice that I have reapplied the term gentlemen to them, as I believe it can fit for at least one of them.

Mr. Darcy's presence at Lydia's wedding has forced me to reexamine everything I think I know about him, and I believe that there are better explanations available which shall relate later; but for the moment, the clock just struck midnight and I must be up at dawn, so I must close.

Your beloved sister
Lizzy

Mary

5 November 1812
Gracechurch Street

Dearest Mary,

Mary, you little minx! I must say that I am prodigiously proud of you, and so very very happy that you have made a love match. The fact that you managed to meet a man, court him and receive his address without Mrs. Bennet even being aware of it is an accomplishment I shall brag to my grandchildren about, and you must also tell Jane I am ever so proud of her part as well. I am so happy, and I will not be satisfied until I drag every single detail of the courtship out of your lips with tongs if necessary, although I will obviously have to wait until you leave that household first.

I am so giddy with happiness, it is taking a bout of iron willed discipline to refrain from carrying on in that vein for another page or two, but alas you have asked for my help and advice, so I will endeavor to do so.

You do know after all the correspondence of the last year that I am probably the last person that you should turn to for advice, as I seem to be wrong at least half the time. Be that as it may, you have asked and I will deliver; so long as you promise to pay more attention to your own council and that of your intended over anything I say.

After all the things that Mrs. Bennet has said to you and about you since you were a girl (it did not start when I turned down Mr. Collins, it had been going on for some time), I can well understand your desire to have a dignified betrothal and wedding; and I agree with you that it would be quite impossible with Mrs. Bennet's involvement. It may sound mean spirited, but I think you can agree that it is a cold-hearted statement of fact. The woman is vulgar and crass, and anything she touches will adopt that vulgarity. I would not suggest such a thing if you had not already asked, but since you have, then I do believe we must get you married without her interference.

That brings up some practical difficulties, and I have thought of several schemes to accomplish the goal. Being wed from Longbourn is clearly impossible, so we must dismiss it out of hand. That leaves your intended's parish or Uncle Gardiner's parish to choose from. You must also obtain permission to both wed, and to travel hither for the ceremony.

That brings us to the tricky part. In my new life in the world of business, I have learned to predict other's behavior somewhat by extrapolating from previous behavior to understand their motives, and then judging which perceived course of action will best match their motivations and habits. It works a surprisingly robust percentage of the time, so we can apply that to the principles in this drama.

Let us begin with the easiest one, Mr. Bennet. He will do the thing that causes him the least inconvenience, or expense regardless of the outcome. Did he not give that as his reason for allowing Lydia to go to Brighton? Has he not refused to check his wife or daughters for years just because it requires industry? Has he failed spectacularly to provide his daughters with dowries? Yes, I think he is the most reliable and predictable father in all of England. All you need do is present him with a fait accompli, and a piece of paper to sign that requires no effort or expense, and he will sign it and go back to his book. In the end, obtaining the only thing you truly require from your parents, your father's permission, should be easily accomplished.

Now for Mrs. Bennet, things are easier. The simplest way to prevent her from interfering with your wedding is to prevent her from knowing it is happening until the deed is done. This may impinge on your sense of honor or propriety, but really it is the only way, and it is not as if the woman has earned any consideration. If you follow my scheme, you will be able to console yourself that you are not actually lying to her. You are simply failing to inform her; a mere oversight.

Here is my scheme, of which I have already taken the liberty of consulting Aunt and Uncle, and they agree.

I am to understand that your betrothed has by necessity returned to his parish, to return when you are prepared for him. I applaud his sense of duty. It is yet another thing that speaks well of him, as if courting you during Lydia's debacle were not enough for ten men. For a man such as yours, nothing will do but to ask your father directly, so I suggest you have him write his proposed settlement and bring it with him. I will ask Uncle Gardiner to write a simple document turning you over to my employer, Mr. Ellery's protection. It so happens that I am traveling with Mr. Ellery and his wife to within twenty miles of your intended's parish in early November, so you shall simply travel with me. Once you have permission, your beau can read the banns for three weeks before we arrive, and when we arrive I will stand up with you, unless you have someone else in mind.

I also believe attempting to prevent Aunt Gardiner and Mrs. Ellery from buying you a trousseau would be an exercise in futility, so you may as well accept it with good grace. You will be traveling first to town, and thence to Derbyshire with Mr. and Mrs. Ellery and myself, so all the proprieties will be observed, and all will be well.

I do truly hope you will accept this plan, but I have one more perhaps distressing component you should comply with. Unless Mrs. Bennet has changed habits considerably, she always takes the carriage to Lucas Lodge every Tuesday morning and stays all morning for gossip and chatter. If you truly wish to escape, you must have your beau at Longbourn right after breakfast, and once permission has been granted, you must quickly pack and leave before she returns. You will send her a letter when the deed is done. I know the subterfuge will be distasteful to you, but it is either that or put up with her interference. You must decide which course is right for you.

Your inordinately proud and insufferably boastful sister
Lizzy

Jane

10 November 1812
Gracechurch Street

Dearest Jane,

So, Mr. Bingley is to return to Netherfield right after the Christmas season! I would find it shocking, except I have quite lost the capacity to be surprised by anything to do with the Netherfield party or our family.

Since you have asked for my advice, I must repeat what I said to Mary. I have been wrong at least as often as right, so you must in the end accept your own council. However, since you have a few se'nnights before any chance of encountering the man, I will endeavor to write down my thoughts. To tell the truth, they have been circling around and around in my head the last month, and I think I may be able to offer some insights that will be useful to you, although they will be quite painful.

I have spent nearly every idle minute since Lydia's wedding going over everything that happened in the last year, and trying my best to understand it. In Lambton, the only explanation I could come up was uncharitable in the extreme, but such was my state of agitation that I could do nothing else. I believe I have looked on Mr. Darcy with a prejudicial eye at every opportunity since that first sleight, just over one year ago. Even when I asked Aunt and Uncle for their opinion, they took the story from my lips, and I can now see that I colored the narrative to bend it towards my foregone conclusion.

Mr. Darcy's support of Lydia's ill-fated marriage turned the tables over completely, to the point where I could no longer trust or believe a single thought I have had since the very beginning. After spending nearly every spare moment thinking about every interaction we have ever had, I believe I have an explanation that makes much more sense; as it explains every single occurrence so much better than my rogue cad theory.

This is quite painful, but I can now remember exactly what happened at the ball in Netherfield last November as if it were yesterday, and in fact I believe I can remember everything that happened with the gentlemen, even the times you were sick at Netherfield. At the ball, I now can see as clearly as a leaf under a magnifying glass that I was downright rude to Mr. Darcy simply because he had the temerity to ask me politely for a dance. After that, I proceeded to needle him about his conversation, and hen abuse him by discussing another man… his sworn enemy as it turns out, and gave him not the slightest opportunity to defend himself, or turn the conversation to more pleasant topics. At the time, I was oh-so-certain in my beliefs that our dislike was mutual that I failed to listen to perfectly wise council from both you and Charlotte! Now, I can see that he did not dislike me at all. Perhaps he even esteemed me. It seems obvious in retrospect that if he disliked me, he would not have singled me out as the only woman in Hertfordshire that he chose to dance with. I even turned the man down twice before that.

As if that were not enough, it gets even worse. My rudeness and lack of manners were quickly followed by Mrs. Bennet screeching with all the power of her awful voice and vile manners about Mr. Bingley's £5,000 a year, how you would soon be mistress of Netherfield, and how he would then throw the other daughters in the path of other rich men. I was mortified at the time, and Mr. Darcy must have heard it. I begged her to desist, and she insulted him directly and loudly. Lydia and Kitty were thoroughly in their cups and embarrassing the entire room, and Sir William had the temerity to interrupt the dance to indicate only the date of Mr. Bingley's conquest was in doubt.

That last piece is vexing in the extreme, but Jane, I must point out that you are the most polite and genteel lady I have ever met, and that means you were following the rules of propriety to the letter. I could perfectly tell you preferred Mr. Bingley, and I felt he should be able to; but Mr. Darcy could not, and a modest man like Mr. Bingley might not be certain. Charlotte asserted that you were too subtle in your indications of your preferences, and I fear she may have been right. Mr. Bingley may be a very good man, but he did not have the strength to stand up against the combined might of a lady's indifference and an obviously mercenary mother… who would?

All of this leads me to a most unsatisfactory conclusion, but the only one I can come up with that matches all the known facts. Mr. Darcy almost certainly was the one to dissuade Mr. Bingley, because Mr. Bingley was thinking with his heart, and Mr. Darcy was thinking with his head. I fully believe Mr. Darcy convinced Mr. Bingley that he was the victim of a fortune-hunting family, as all evidence suggested, and Mr. Bingley simply did not have enough faith in his own judgment to decide for himself.

I must therefore conclude dear Jane that your loss of Mr. Bingley, who very possibly could have been a good match, was mostly because of the ill-bred manners of the Bennet family, and I count myself among the culprits. I must offer my most abject apologies, because perhaps Mr. Darcy could have overlooked the rest of the family if I had not been so abominably rude to him, and if we had not driven him away, Mr. Bingley would have had time to get to know your heart.

In the end, I am most chastened to know that even though Mrs. Bennet was probably the principle architect of his abandonment, I most assuredly was second. I am heartily ashamed of myself. I believe until today, I never truly knew myself.

So, when Mr. Bingley returns, he will either call on you or he will not. If he does not, then there is no more to be thought about, and things will be just as they are. If, however, he does call, then you alone must decide whether to give him another chance.

Before you decide for or against him, which may or may not be required, I would ask you to take a few other things into consideration.

Lydia nearly destroyed the Bennet family, and Mr. Darcy saved us at considerable effort and expense. Mary has recently become betrothed to a man that is absolutely perfect for her, who happens to have as patron, the self‑same Mr. Darcy. How in the world could a rector from Kympton just happen to meet a lady in Hertfordshire, four days ride away absent some guidance? Mr. Bingley very well may come back to make reparations for last year, and I can see no possible way it could have come about unless Mr. Darcy told him the truth, which Uncle Gardiner gave him in Lambton in it's completely unvarnished form. Everything centers around Mr. Darcy.

This has led me to reexamine all I knew before, and I have a more intellectually satisfying conclusion that fits all known facts. Mr. Darcy is a true and honorable man, who may have acted with supreme bad manners and disdain at one time, but he has recently acted the very best of men. He may once have esteemed me, but my family and I drove him from Hertfordshire, I am certain. Nothing that has happened since I was in Lambton last year can be faulted, and where there was previous fault, he seems to be making reparations well beyond what any sane man would do. I must therefore conclude that he is either the most honorable man we have ever met, or he esteems me, or both.

Jane, I must admit, though it frightens me to do so, that I believe he just might like me. It is entirely too much to hope for though with all that has happened between us, and the stain that is still on our family for him to act on it. Even he has his limits, and attaching himself to a family so closely attached to Wickham, or attaching himself to a woman who has abused him abominably at every opportunity for over a year is just too much.

So, I must conclude that he may well have esteemed me once, and must admit that I feel much more than is wise or prudent for him, but I cannot expect anything except that he may allow me to give him the thanks that is owed. Beyond that, I dare not hope, but I must own that I do hope all the same. The man has always had a profound effect on me, and I very well believe it would take less than a feather's touch to push me into love with him; presuming I am not already there.

I go back to Derbyshire with Mary in a few weeks for her wedding. There is a chance Mr. Darcy will attend church while I am there with her, and I will give the man my thanks if it kills me. I will be in Derbyshire for more than a fortnight, and I will have my say, even if I must bend the rules a touch and call on Miss Darcy at Pemberley.

So, I hope that helps you with any decision you may need to make with respect to Mr. Bingley. I know forgiveness is in your nature and you will be inclined to give it; and I am not opposed to the scheme, but I would hope that you take steps to insure there is no more confusion and misunderstandings. And no matter what else you do, try not to expose to the poor man to Mrs. Bennet. If he calls on you, go to town and let him court you from Gracechurch Street.

Your beloved sister
Lizzy

Kympton

26 November 1812
Kympton, Derbyshire

Dearest Jane,

Mary and I arrived safely, and her beau is absolutely wonderful. It is quite fortunate that she already has his affections secured, as he would be in some danger of falling into my sights if she had not. Her wedding is scheduled for Wednesday next, and I can hardly wait. Mrs. Ellery and I were quite dismayed to find that every single thing anybody could wish in a wedding has already been done by the ladies of the parish, but we will endeavor to get over it with moderately good grace.

I have been cursed by an unaccustomed bout of timidity and a general disinclination to cause the slightest disruption in Mary's wedding, so I have not taken the opportunity to learn anything of the Darcys except for what is generally known around the village. I know brother and sister are both at home now, but not very much more. Mr. Darcy has apparently been in and out several times in the last months, according to the local rumors, and since we know at least some of what that is all about, it is not surprising. I did not have the courage to ask Mary's beau about them.

Now, for the most surprising news. By complete coincidence, there is an assembly here in Kympton in two days' time, and I mean to attend. It is curious that today is exactly one year to the day after the ball at Netherfield, and I have decided to mark the occasion by purchasing a ticket to the assembly. It is a public assembly, much like the one where we first encountered the gentlemen, and I am hoping to dance a little bit. I have not danced a single time since Netherfield, so I hope I remember how.

I know full well I am unlikely to encounter either of the Darcys at the assembly, given Miss Darcy's shyness and the fact that she is not out; and his general disinclination toward dancing; but I am hoping that I will happen upon one of them before I leave Kympton. Of course, then I remember how Mr. Darcy left Lydia's wedding as if it were a locust infestation (not that far from the truth), I become nervous and believe they will avoid me as any sensible man would. For the moment, all I can say is I will attend an assembly and I will dance if asked. Beyond that, nobody can know, and I dare not hope.

I am here with Mr. Ellery on business after all, so we have a long series of engagements for the next two days until the assembly, and I will just barely be done in time to dress. In honor of the occasion, I have brought along my old dress from the Netherfield ball, and am hoping the dance will end better than the previous one did.

Of course, I thought I would have to bully Mary into attending, but when it came down to it, she is more enamored with the idea of the dance than I am. Perhaps it has something to do with a certain gentleman who will also be attending.

Your loving sister
Lizzy

Assembly

28 November 1812
Kympton, Derbyshire

Dearest Jane,

I can hardly contain my surprise at the events of this evening's assembly, and you can be in no doubt that Mary will send you her own impressions forthwith. It is full dark in the middle of the night here in Kympton, but I cannot rest until I have written it all out to you for the morning post.

As you well expect, I visited the assembly last evening. I was looking around and just getting my bearings, while I could see several gentlemen apparently trying to work their way up to securing an introduction, when I heard a voice behind me that I have both longed to hear and feared ever since my epiphany. What he said was so memorable, I feel I must quote it exactly.

"I must dance. I will not stand around in this stupid manner, and it would be a punishment to dance with any other lady than the most handsome woman I have ever beheld, Miss Elizabeth."

I spun around in surprise at such a reversal of that gentleman's first words in my hearing, with heartfelt thanks for all that he had done on my lips, determined to get them out, but I was struck mute before I could utter a single word. Mr. Darcy was standing there dressed impeccably, handsomer than ever, and showing me an expression that even the most stubborn woman in England could not misinterpret. It had all the hope of a puppy the first time it opens its eyes to see its dear mother, combined with the adoration I see between Aunt and Uncle, and the fixedness of purpose of a bear tearing apart a tree for honey. I knew at that very moment my heart was well and thoroughly lost, although I suspect it has been for some time. As you know, when I was rethinking every interaction of the past year, I concluded that he either respected me and wanted me as a family friend; or that he was in love with me; or at least he had once been. His expression clearly and unambiguously showed me which case was true, and the thought I had only barely dared to even think was there to guide my heart.

I could not speak a single word, and Mr. Darcy is a man of few words at the best of times, but I do believe we were for the very first time in our entire rocky acquaintance in a state of absolute, complete and perfect understanding.

I could barely register Miss Darcy standing beside him, but I must own that I am surprised that I could see the gentleman at all, as Miss Darcy's smile was as bright as a dozen suns, and she jumped over to grab me in an embrace that I thought was likely to kill me. She apparently has also been appraised of both my blindness and my stubbornness, so wanted to leave me in no doubt as to her sentiments. Even with this inducement, I could not but help seeing the look on Mr. Darcy's face as he beheld the two of us embracing. His eyes were speaking a language that I was finally able to understand, and it was saying that all was right with the world.

No formal application for the dance was needed or desired. He simply held out his hand, Georgiana put my hand in his, just in case I thought of resisting, and we left to join the set. It was a sublimely beautiful dance, or at least I believe it was, as I can barely remember anything about the music, or the hall, or the other dancers. There was only him, and I am certain for him there was only me.

I was still nervous about what was to happen next, and then he said something so very memorable, that I am afraid I must quote exactly. His speech showed everything wonderful and unexpected, including his wry sense of humor.

"I am most vexed with you Elizabeth. On your last visit, both you and your esteemed aunt, steadfastly refused to suggest a single alteration for your chambers, so I am afraid you must accept them just as they are."

Your astonished sister
Lizzy

P.S. Of course, he did propose properly in the usual form of a question and an answer, and it is a truth universally acknowledged in Kympton that both were lovely; since both were performed in front of his sister and my sister and the entire assembly. I am of age, and not inclined to ask permission from anybody for anything, but I will beg for your blessing, as I already have Mary's. The banns will be read on Sunday, and we are to be married in one month by Mary's husband, here in Kympton… well, he will not be her husband for another two days, but why quibble.

P.P.S. The carriage in the drive is for you, and the man that handed this letter to you is the coachman. He brought a maid and a footman and Georgiana's companion, Mrs. Annesley, with him, so please bring Kitty with you when you come to attend my wedding. Plan to stay six weeks at least, but you need not bring too many dresses, as my betrothed is quite anxious to have his sisters be as happy as his wife. I will ask you to indulge him on this matter, regardless of your own sentiments, as he is the second most stubborn person in England. Naturally, it will be Tuesday morning right after breakfast now, so you must hurry and be out of the house before luncheon. Simply have Mr. Bennet sign the document attached for permission, unless of course he already has a very different document to sign with Mr. Bingley. Of course, Aunt and Uncle Gardiner will attend if their business will allow it, and since my betrothed's note makes copious reference to the miserable state of his trout stream, I believe we may just be indulged.

P.P.P.S. Also, if you can find it in your heart to forgive Colonel Fitzwilliam, I would be most appreciative. He is off to the continent for duty very soon, but he will be present at our wedding and is most anxious to meet the rest of the Bennet sisters. Once I finally understood that he thought my betrothed had saved Mr. Bingley from a fortune hunter, I have forgotten all anger, and I can see why you liked him back in Rosings. He is my third favorite Northman.

Lieutenant

5 September 1814
Pemberley, Derbyshire

Dear Lydia,

I realize it has been two years since we last spoke at your wedding, and I am hoping this letter finds you well and that you are willing to read it instead of casting it in the fire. I must own to having been so angry it was quite impossible to even consider contacting you all this time. However, even my unreasonable temper has its limits and it is time I believe for us to get on.

I have heard, most unexpectedly from Colonel Fitzwilliam that your husband has been fighting in his regiment in Spain this last year. That is the first I have heard of either of you since your wedding, much to my chagrin. Colonel Fitzwilliam also says that he has been serving with distinction. Coming from the Colonel, that is praise indeed. In fact, they seem to have come to a truce as fighting men are occasionally wont to do in time of war. I would like to follow their example.

So my dear sister, I would like to make this simple. We have many things to say to one another, but they cannot be said in a letter. They will no doubt be difficult, hurtful and aggravating; but I hope reconciling as well.

I understand you are with the regiment still in Newcastle, and you have a son around one year old and another on the way. I should very much like to heal the breach between us, so this is what I will suggest; and my husband is in agreement with me.

Fitzwilliam and I would like you to come her and stay with us at Pemberley until your husband returns. I know the two of us may find the exercise vexing and difficult, but I would l like to make the effort. At the very least, come here to have your baby. We have an excellent midwife, and you can be assured you will be treated well, and your children will be treated the same as mine.

Please Lydia, let us put the past behind us. Come and make your home here, and all will be well. If you are in agreement, simply reply to this letter and I will come fetch you. I expect my next shall be born about a month after yours, and we shall make a merry pair on our journey back.

You need not fear your husband's reception when you come back. Fitzwilliam and I are both stubborn and implacable, and have decided to let the past go.

Still Your Sister,
Elizabeth Darcy

General

26 November 1815
Pemberley, Derbyshire

Dearest Kitty,

I am so deliriously happy with your news that I can just scream, or maybe kiss my husband and my boys or dance around in joy and then repeat the whole process. We have all been anxiously awaiting the end of this war for so long, and after Waterloo we had some real hope it would finally be over. Now with Napoleon exiled to St. Helena, it is at long last finished and I cannot even begin to describe the joy I am feeling. I will even go so far as to refrain from chastising your betrothed about how long it took him to finally come to the point, because Fitzwilliam and I both well understand his reasoning. I thought he might have looked favorably on you as far back as my wedding, even though you were much too young at the time for his affections; but in a complete breach of habit he copied my husband's inscrutable ways and would not say a word.

Before he left for the Continent, Fitzwilliam talked to him about his intentions; and he steadfastly refused all entreaties. All he would say is that he would not shirk his duty by staying in England, and he refused to leave behind a widow or even a lady whose heart was engaged when there was every chance he would not come back. He is indeed a foolish man, but we all love our foolish men, do we not. I also believe he was concerned about the disparity in your ages, but since you are now the age I was when I wed, I think you both shall have no reason to repine. He truly is the best of men and I could not be happier.

We cannot wait for the both of you to arrive at Pemberley, and I cannot express how happy I am that you will be wed in the same chapel as I was; although with Mary's husband's occupation, I do not see how you had any other choice. Please hurry your steps back here as soon as you may. I understand it will take time for your intended to complete his military tasks, but I am so happy that he has finally considered his duty to King and Country complete and decided to settle down.

I know of his reluctance to talk of his time on the continent, so I shall consider it my duty to tell you things he may choose to omit. The most shocking thing is that our brother, Captain Wickham, has served the last three years with true distinction, and his Captain's rank is well earned. In fact, according to a private communication that my husband shared, he ended up fighting back to back with your general at Waterloo. That must have been a shock to both, but battle seems to have forged a bond between them. It shames me to think that back in the dark days of the year twelve I actually wrote in a letter to Jane and Mary that I wished he would be sent to the continent to be killed or tamed. On his last leave, I apologized to both him and Lydia profusely for that, but they just laughed at me. He seems to feel that the war was the making of him, and perhaps it is true. He seems a very different man than the cad that married Lydia, and we have all quite forgiven him.

My boys are doing quite well, and I am sure you know that they are thick as thieves with Lydia's two and Mary's two, since we brought Lydia to Pemberley; although with the younger three only a year old, little else can be expected. I have noticed a suspiciously large number of very small ponies in the stables, and Fitzwilliam has been surreptitiously eyeing all six of the boys, so I am not entirely certain our brother will be able to spirit them away when he does return. There is some chance the Captain will be sent to fight in the Canadas, and Lydia may even go with him; but that is to be determined. Either way, I believe we will find a way to keep Captain Wickham and Lydia close. We have long since forgiven anything and everything in the past, and we have all become quite close. I once swore I would never call him either brother or Mister, but I now do so without qualms.

I have two last items to broach with you. The first is that you well know that a good part of our income comes from our stake in Gardiner, Livingston, Ellery, Darcy and Fitzwilliam. What you may not know is that the 'Darcy' in that company's name is me, not my husband. I have been actively participating in the business since that first trip to Lambton all that time ago. I suspect you may have worked that out already. The part you probably do not know is that the 'Fitzwilliam' part of the name is your soon-to-be husband, not Uncle Matlock as has always been assumed. We voted him an equal share right after my wedding when he went back to Spain to finish his task. We all believed and still do that if he was risking life and limb to protect us and ours, it was the least we could do. My husband has been voting his shares all this time, and we are anxious for him to join the fray fully. His contacts in the King's Army will be useful, and his efforts to open the Continent back up to trade make this a very good business venture for us; so please do not think of it as charity. He has earned his share and far more, but I suspect you may have to bludgeon him into submission to get him to accept. He suffers from an excess of pride, just as we all do. If it comes down to it, you should point out to him that he is the third stubbornest person in England, and is being opposed by the first and second.

The last and most difficult thing is that I wish to ask your permission to allow our mother to attend your wedding. The abuse she heaped on you and I in particular is quite unforgivable, but I have finally found it in my heart to do so. It may be the most difficult thing I have ever done, since she did not have the Captain's war record to recommend her, and all that had happened is the passage of time and my becoming able to remember that she is our mother and I owe her for that.

If you have reached a similar conclusion, I shall invite her to Pemberley for the wedding, and I will do my best to reign in the worst of her behavior. If not, then I shall still invite her here, but after you have parted; which shall not be for at least two or three months I hope. You decide, and I shall take care of the particulars.

And so, my dear sister, I must close before I start dripping so many tears over the paper that it looks like one of Charles' missives. Speaking of Charles, he and Jane will either be here directly for your wedding, or they have decided to become Buddhists and emigrate to the Orient – either is possible based on my perusal of his letter. I am hoping I will be able to actually read Jane's letter when it follows to clarify.

Please hurry. We cannot wait to see you and your betrothed.

Your loving sister,
Elizabeth Darcy

Epilogue

26 November 1823
Pemberley, Derbyshire

Dearest Jane,

Thank you so much for sending me the packet of my old letters from the year twelve. It was such a difficult year, but all our lives pivoted around it. Fitzwilliam and I shared the letters and were laughing so much the children came to check on us. I swear it was the most diversion we have had since Bennet invited the hounds to Kitty's wedding breakfast.

My favorite was the one from when I saw him at Gunthers and he gave me 'the most intense look of hatred I have ever seen'. Can you believe I wrote that? He said, "Was it like this?" and gave me the exact same look. This time I could not misinterpret it, as his eyes practically caught my dress on fire. What a silly goose I was back then. Maybe I tripped getting into the coach because my eyes were blinded by the smoke. It took us quite some time to get back to the rest of the letters, but since they are a decade old there was no rush. Today is exactly 10 years since the Netherfield ball, and they seem to have gone by in a trice.

Mama is doing well at the dower house, and I recently heard from Charlotte that all is well at Longbourn. I am very happy that I finally repaired the relationship with Mama, as she is now quite the favorite of all the grandchildren.

I find it extremely ironic, now that I can laugh at such things, that Mama set her stated goal in her life as having all five of her daughters well married, then proceeded to nearly destroy every chance of that happening. In the end though, more through luck than anything else, we all ended up marrying quite well and all five are happy. The world is certainly a strange place, and I think the goddess of fate must be off somewhere laughing her head off.

Your loving sister,
Elizabeth Darcy

A/N: There you go. I hope you enjoyed my little bit of Pride and Paranoia. This should be a good antidote to my last Super-Lizzy story ;)

The style was somewhat copied from Lady Susan, but not overly much… just the basic concept.

Telling a story in relentlessly First Person POV with an unreliable narrator and nearly 100% exposition was challenging, and I hope you enjoyed the results.

Please feel free to review or PM with your thoughts.

Wade