Letters from Pemberley Read online

  My only wish now is that you are enjoying equal happiness with your dear Bingley at Netherfield. Not so, I do have another wish—for a letter very soon from you, my dear Sister, filled with as much happiness as you like and news of our family and friends.

  Yours very affectionately,

  E. Darcy

  Letter No. 2

  Pemberley

  Monday, 1st March, 1813

  Need I say, my dearest Jane, how welcome your letter was to me? Thank you for the immense pleasure it brought. Selfishly, it had not occurred to me that you might have anxieties of your own settling into your new life and home. Forgive me, I thought only of myself so far away from you all and imagined you happily settled at Netherfield, within easy reach of our friends and acquaintance, everything familiar and nothing to cloud your daily joy. Had I been a more considerate Sister I might well have imagined the possibility of friends and acquaintance (and yes, even family) being within too easy a reach of Netherfield. But perhaps you are right, once the notion of Miss Jane Bennet as Mrs. Charles Bingley and mistress of Netherfield is no longer the novelty it appears to be at present, you will be able to lead a life less encumbered by overly attentive neighbours. Your forthcoming stay in London is an excellent idea and will enable them all to become accustomed to it in your absence—and your sweet, patient nature, which would not wish to offend, and Mr. Bingley’s easy temperament, are spared even thinking about otherwise remedying a tedious situation!

  Will Miss Bingley be in town when you are there? I understand she was mortified by our marriage but we have received very civil messages from her via an acquaintance of Mr. Darcy’s and she writes very affectionate letters to Georgiana. I hope you will find her company tolerable and that she will feel a sense of obligation to pay off every arrear of prior incivility to you as befits her Brother’s wife.

  Georgiana has arrived from London. Mrs. Annesley, her companion, accompanied her here but has now left us for several weeks to nurse an ailing sister. In her sweet, shy way Georgiana shows me real affection and I am confident that with time we shall become fast friends. Her disposition is cheerful and open, without conceit or affectation of any kind, though she is clearly astonished to hear my lively, sportive manner of talking to her Brother, and to see him as the object of open pleasantry. The walls of Pemberley, I fear, have been unaccustomed to the sound of laughter for too long and here, at least, I may be able to exchange my role of willing student for that of teacher.

  Now that Georgiana is here, my dear Husband is free to devote more time to business matters which have been sadly neglected since our arrival here, a consequence of his solicitousness for my comfort. Very timely too, since otherwise I would probably be in great danger of becoming a shameless, spoiled creature, fit for nothing but constant adoration and effusive praise! As it is, since it is still too cold for much outdoor activity (though there are signs of Spring), Georgiana and I spend a good part of each day together, often in Georgiana’s very pleasant sitting room, which was fitted up by her Brother just last summer after she had taken a liking to the room. It has a graceful elegance and lightness which befits its owner. You will be amused that the music room sees me more often now that Georgiana is here, and I may say that her example of constant practice has encouraged my own fingers to follow suit. I know you will find this news surprising, since I was never known for taking trouble to practise.

  I am very happy indeed that Kitty is spending time with you at Netherfield. Although she is already eighteen, I do not feel she is entirely beyond the reach of amendment and, removed as she now is from the influence of Lydia’s poor example, I hope that she can be just as easily persuaded that vanity and idleness should not be the business of her life and will come to see the advantages of improving her ignorant, empty mind.

  Papa intends to pay us a visit during the summer and writes that he dearly looks forward to seeing Mr. Darcy’s library, which pleases Mr. Darcy enormously, the library being a source of great pride to him. Begun by his Grandfather and nurtured by his Father, Mr. Darcy has taken up the reins of responsibility most enthusiastically and constantly seeks to improve and add to it. I think my Father will not be disappointed by what he finds, and dare to hope that this common interest will promote a closer understanding between him and Mr. Darcy.

  You ask about Charlotte. Just after our arrival here she wrote that because Lady Catherine is still in high dudgeon about Mr. Darcy’s marriage to me, she had wished to delay her return to Hunsford for as long as possible. Her condition, however, obliged her to make the journey much sooner than she would have wished. Poor Charlotte, as the dearest friend of the person who thwarted Lady Catherine’s plans for an alliance between her daughter and Mr. Darcy, I am sure Lady Catherine attaches some blame to her for the shades of Pemberley being polluted by me, and so Charlotte must suffer the consequences. While we were still at Longbourn I believe I told you that since Lady Catherine’s offensive reply to Mr. Darcy’s announcement of our betrothal, all intercourse between them is at an end, so any attempt by us to mollify her would merely fan the flames of her indignation. I have no doubt, however, that Charlotte’s good sense will prevail, and surely Mr. Collins’s extravagant daily civilities will help to smooth Lady Catherine’s ruffled feathers in time?

  Tomorrow we go to Hurstbourne Park, just five miles from here. In my honour, Sir Richard Mansfield, an old family friend of the Darcys, has kindly gathered together most of his, and consequently Mr. Darcy’s, intimate circle to meet me formally. This is to be a much smaller affair than Sir Richard had in mind; his original plan, Mr. Darcy tells me, was for a grand ball to take place the week of our arrival. Mr. Darcy was adamant, however, that his wife should not be overwhelmed by visitors and social obligations immediately, and his acquaintance has respected those wishes, even though they may not fully comprehend them.

  Apart from a few informal morning visits (at which I feel I passed myself off creditably) this will be my first real social outing of any import. So, your Sister is to be thrown into one large den of lions rather than several smaller ones and should be suitably grateful for it, I suppose. Let us hope that my stubbornness that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others will carry me through, since I am quite determined not to feel intimidated, and equally determined that my Husband and Sister will be proud of me.

  And so, my dear Jane, you may imagine me in my suit of armour, spear in hand, setting forth to subdue the discontented horde; my head held high, a smile on my face, and always your devoted, loving Sister,

  Elizabeth

  Letter No. 3

  Pemberley

  Thursday, 4th March, 1813

  Oh, Jane, thank you for your confidence that all would be well and that the den of lions would turn out be no more than a basketful of adoring kittens. Not quite true—about the kittens anyway—but I am pleased to be able to tell you that all went very well at Sir Richard’s, and I feel that there is great relief all round that everything passed off as well as it did. I will not pretend that there was no initial discomfort (and not just on my part). Indeed, so great was my agitation and so fearful was I of not doing exactly what was right, and of not being able to preserve their good opinion, that in the embarrassment of the first five minutes, I could almost have wished to return immediately to Pemberley—nay, to Longbourn. My courage prevailed, however, and by the time the evening came to an end and the carriages were called and we all said how much we were looking forward to meeting again, I believe most of us actually meant it. I shall not feel embarrassed about being in their company again, though I am not yet quite able to hope for it very soon.

  You asked for all the particulars of the occasion and I shall attempt to leave nothing out. I wore the yellow sarcenet (made up in Meryton last November, you will recall, in the same style as your pale green muslin with the round neckline and darker green trim). After much deliberation I decided against wearing any of the Darcy family jewellery in favour of my o
wn simple topaze cross. Mr. Darcy was a little disappointed until I explained that for this first formal occasion I should prefer to appear as my own unadorned self, without pretension, and not impose myself right away as the new, grand Mrs. Darcy, complete with Darcy finery. He understood my sentiments exactly, I am happy to say, and I believe my decision stood me in good stead, for Mr. Darcy told me afterwards that several people whose opinion he values, including Sir Richard himself, congratulated him on his wife, particularly pointing out their admiration of her simplicity and lack of pretension. As for admiration, it is always very welcome when it comes, but I do not depend on it; so do not be concerned that, following my small triumph, my bonnets are now several sizes too small.

  Let me attempt to describe the group to you, beginning with our host, Sir Richard Mansfield, who is a well-looking man of about forty. His countenance is thoroughly good-humoured and his manners friendly. Renowned for his hospitality and generosity, he has lately been especially kind in assisting a widowed Cousin with two daughters (left in distressed circumstances, I understand) by giving her a cottage on his estate, and all transacted in such an easy manner that she and her daughters should feel no loss of pride or burdensome sense of obligation in accepting his generosity. (I should add that this was related to me beforehand by Mr. Darcy as an illustration of his friend’s excellent character. Sir Richard himself did not mention the matter at all, apart from his hope that I would allow him to introduce his Cousin and her daughters to my acquaintance; in deference to me and in compliance with Mr. Darcy’s wishes he had not wanted to make this first party too large.) Sir Richard’s pleasure in meeting me was certainly genuine, but the arrival of anyone new to him is probably a matter of joy and he clearly delights in collecting people about him.

  Lady Mansfield cannot be more than six or seven and twenty; her face is handsome, her figure tall and striking, and her address graceful. Her manners have more elegance than her Husband’s perhaps, but they would be improved by some share of his frankness and warmth. Though perfectly well-bred, she is reserved and cold, with nothing to say for herself unless it is about her several children whom we were obliged to meet and admire, and who would benefit from less indulgence by their Mother than they are in the habit of receiving. And I am sorry to say that she strikes me as the sort of woman who is determined never to be well, and who likes her spasms and nervousness and the consequence they give her, better than anything else.

  Also in attendance was a Lady Ashton Dennis, a person in whom I had the greatest interest since she is reputed to place a high value on rank and consequence and in those terms would doubtless already have a decided opinion on the worth of the new Mrs. Darcy. A widow of a certain age (comfortably situated and well provided with a handsome jointure, I understand) who had been a close friend of Lady Anne Darcy, I was pleasantly surprised to find her a rational, well-mannered woman of sense with a cultivated mind; a little cool to be sure, but I believe I detected a willingness to defer judgement until she knows me better. If true, then I shall admire her integrity and delicate sense of honour.

  Lady Ashton Dennis is a particular intimate of the Steventon family of Oakley Hall, who were not of the party since the head of the family, Sir James, and his Daughter do not return from Bath for another two weeks. She gave me to understand, however, that he is anxious to wait upon me.

  The last members of our party were Mr. Daley and his Wife of less than a year, Margaret. He farms a great estate in the next parish, is perhaps seven or eight and thirty and a sensible, straight-forward, open-hearted man indeed. His Wife, considerably his junior, is a quick-witted, clever person with an unaffected, cheerful disposition, and as fond of her Husband as he clearly is of her. As proof of his affection for his Wife, he was willing to sacrifice a great deal of independence by moving from his seat at Weldon Abbey to her Father’s house after their marriage. Mrs. Daley’s affection and regard for her Father made it impossible for her to leave him; and his nervous disposition and hatred of change of any kind made it impossible for him to move with them to Weldon. The Daleys are well-matched, make a very fine couple, are evidently happy in each other’s company, and I like them very much indeed. Mr. Daley is no false flatterer and when he remarked to me privately that he had never seen Mr. Darcy so well content and how he sincerely rejoiced in our happiness, I felt the full value of his sentiments.

  On the way home Mr. Darcy was so well pleased with the occasion to remark that we should consider a ball at Pemberley this summer to coincide with Georgiana’s coming out this season. This was not the first time the subject of Georgiana’s coming out has been raised, but until now, afraid of displeasing her Brother I suppose, she has chosen not to discuss it, preferring rather to throw a mist over such a gloomy prospect, hoping that when the mist cleared away, she should see something else. But here it was again and she could contain herself no longer, becoming very agitated and begging her Brother to reconsider her coming out—she is but seventeen and next year would do as well—indeed would be better altogether—and she would need every minute of time between now and then to prepare herself for something so abhorrent. She became so carried away that I just had to laugh and even her Brother, astonished as he was by her vehemence, could scarce conceal a smile, whereupon Georgiana burst into tears and the rest of the journey home was spent in comforting her. It is strange, is it not? Most girls of her age and station look to their coming out as the happiest of events, but I think I understand Georgiana’s reluctance to be properly launched into society. However, before venturing another of my famous hasty opinions, later to be regretted, I shall keep my own counsel until I am sure!

  Your account of the party given at Longbourn in your honour amused me greatly. Mamma’s excessive fawning over Mr. Bingley is hardly surprising, but the poor man must have been quite overcome by so much adoration from my Aunt Phillips, the Lucases, and all the others. Would that my Father had rescued him, ’tho I suspect he was taking his own wry pleasure in observing the sorry spectacle, with no desire to curtail his enjoyment. Yet I am sorry for the embarrassment you must have felt, dear Jane. Let us hope that all will be calmer once you are returned from town. You will not wish Mr. Bingley to be subjected to many more such displays of hollow flattery, I know. And he would certainly not wish it for himself. At least we may take comfort from the fact that with none of Bingley’s family or friends in attendance any embarrassment you suffered was for yourselves alone. A small comfort, but one worth having, nonetheless.

  I trust that you are happily settled in London and that the many social demands of the city will nevertheless allow you a little time to write to your devoted Sister,

  Elizabeth Darcy

  Letter No. 4

  Pemberley

  Monday, 22d March, 1813

  My dear Jane,

  Having imagined you so caught up in London’s pleasant distractions that your pen would be idle, yesterday’s long letter from you was an unexpected pleasure. It seems Mr. Bingley is taking great pride, as indeed he should, in presenting his beautiful wife to London society and since it is your pleasure to please him, nothing can be lacking to make your stay in town anything less than delightful, which pleases me.

  And so Miss Bingley is all that is affectionate and insincere—exactly as I supposed! My Aunt Gardiner, by the way, writes that she has never seen you in greater beauty and contentment, dearest Jane, adding that she and my Uncle have enjoyed improving their acquaintance with Mr. Bingley. They regard him highly—the more so since his devotion to their niece is everything they would wish to see.

  How long do you plan to stay in town? Mr. Darcy has taken it into his head that his wife’s portrait must hang next to his in the gallery at Pemberley and wishes to visit the Summer Exhibition at the Academy with a view to selecting a painter. For my part, I told him, there are already more than enough Darcys hanging in the gallery, and in any case, why go to the trouble of taking a likeness of merely tolerable beauty? A face once
taken was taken for generations, I pointed out. Mr. Darcy, who slowly becomes used to my teasing, replied that it is intolerable that my memory so perfectly recalls events it should have forgotten long ago. But it is settled: in May we shall visit the Academy and other portrait galleries, and a portrait there shall be. Mr. Darcy insists upon it. If you have already removed to Netherfield by that time, we will surely see you when we call at Longbourn on our way—and how I long to see you!

  Poor Georgiana is still upset at the prospect of coming out formally this season and has engaged me in very long conversations on the subject. (I am honoured that she already regards our relationship as being such as allows her to confide her feelings on such a heartfelt matter.) She does not feel equal to such an ordeal—being presented at court—all the people looking at her—the balls—next year she would face it with far more equanimity, she feels certain. Now that she feels so at home at Pemberley again, she does not wish to spend an entire season in London away from her dear Brother and Sister, knowing that Mr. Darcy and I do not plan to be away from Pemberley for so long. No, next year would be quite a different matter!

  Her natural shyness and reserve are heightened, I feel, by the unfortunate episode with Mr. Wickham, which still affects her deeply. While it is too tender a subject to be entered on fully between us, I have told her that I completely understand her sentiments and feel certain that her Brother would not wish her to be unhappy. Although I have not yet had the courage to say so to her, I am now quite certain of her main fear: that once formally out in society, she will be in grave danger of being taken advantage of again and prey to fortune hunters.