More Letters From Pemberley

by Jane Dawkins

  Elizabeth

  Pemberley

  Wednesday, 13th April, 1814

  My dear Georgiana,

  Take heart! Your Brother is yet in Grosvenor Street but I feel confident he would wish me to tell you that your marriage to Colonel Fitzwilliam will be arranged and will take place according to your wishes. As your Aunt, Lady Catherine is naturally at liberty to make suggestions. Remember, however, that you are under no obligation to accept them. Do not distress yourself, my dear Sister. I know that it is against your (and the Colonel’s) easy-going, sweet temperament to contradict or disappoint others, especially members of your own family, but in this particular circumstance you are both at liberty (indeed, I would go further and say you are obliged) to listen to your own hearts to avoid the even greater unhappiness of disappointing your own good selves.

  With your permission, I will venture a suggestion of my own: Listen to Lady Catherine’s instructions and orders, and thank her for her interest and concern without further comment or acceptance. Although my own acquaintance of your Aunt is limited, I feel certain this will suffice. Should she offer personally to see to it that such-and-such is done, I know your Brother would wish you to inform your Aunt that he is undertaking all arrangements for your nuptials, and that she should address herself to him. (As a self-acknowledged arbiter of good taste, it is strange, is it not, that Lady Catherine is not aware that the old fashion of festivity and publicity at weddings is quite gone by, and is universally condemned as showing the bad taste of former generations, but pray do not mention it.) Above all, do all in your power to keep up your spirits, my dear Georgiana, for the want of spirits is the greatest misery.

  Thank you, I am in good health. Thank you, too, for your compliments to my Sister, Lydia. Be assured that Jane and her little one do very well. Young Frederick repays the affection and love constantly showered upon him with smiles and a variety of delightful gurgles. I beg you will convey my respects to Lady Catherine, my regards to Colonel Fitzwilliam, and know that I am always your loving Sister,

  Elizabeth

  Pemberley

  Saturday, 16th April, 1814

  My dear Aunt Gardiner,

  How glad I am to have the very real excuse of wanting to thank you promptly for your most welcome letter, thus allowing me to withdraw to the peace of my own room with a clear conscience on this rainy morning. Lydia declares herself bored (not for the first time since she arrived here). My suggestions that she read a book from the library, re-acquaint herself with the piano in the music room, or take up some needlework from the poor-basket (since she had brought none of her own) meet with vacant stares and a toss of the head. She spends her time walking about the house and banging doors, or ringing the bell for a glass of water.

  I had earlier written suggesting she might want to bring books and needlework to Pemberley, which prompted the following reply: “You distress me cruelly by your request, Lizzy. I cannot think of any books to bring with me, nor have I any idea of needing them. I come to you to be talked to, not read to, or to hear reading. I can do that at home!”

  Married life has changed my Sister but little. The pretty, empty-headed, vain girl is a little older, but marriage has not made her any more mature or sensible: that lively personality, which was found so engaging by many, is now tempered by an unpleasing air of discontent. There is not a conversation to be had in which she does not relate how she and her dear Wickham have been ill-used by the world, how unlucky they are, how unfair everyone is. I regret to say she does not confine such thoughts to private conversations when we are alone. It is fortunate that our acquaintance is too well-mannered to betray any surprise at her indiscretions, and the servants pretend not to hear, but I feel all the embarrassment of her loose tongue.

  Mr. Darcy assures me that with Wickham an officer with the regulars, their income ought to be sufficient for them to live as they please if they are careful. Of course, they seldom are. As might be expected, Mr. Wickham is as full of easy charm and compliments as ever. All that was uncomfortable in our first meeting at The Great House soon passed away, leaving only the interesting charm of remembering former Meryton acquaintances. He departed for Bath much sooner than planned, staying at The Great House barely one week. Thus, he remains in Bath with a party of fellow officers an entire month. Lydia professes not to mind, indeed, one might almost imagine that she encouraged his change of plan. She assures us that her dear Wickham is in great need of rest and that the change of scene and the air at Bath will do him a power of good. She also hinted that perhaps his luck at the gaming tables might change for the better. His adieux were not long; and they would have been yet shorter, had he not been frequently detained by the urgent entreaties of his fair one that he should go. At length, however, he drew on his gloves with leisurely care and set off with a happy air of real conceit and affected indifference.

  I need hardly mention that Georgiana was not of the party which welcomed the Wickhams at The Great House. Indeed, she and Colonel Fitzwilliam have been at Rosings for two weeks and will stay a fortnight longer. It will be in her power to bring me first-hand news of Charlotte, whom she visits often, no doubt in order to escape Lady Catherine, who has been issuing instructions as to the only suitable arrangements to be made for Georgiana’s marriage in November. Not surprisingly, Georgiana desires the simplest, quietest of ceremonies. Lady Catherine, feeling all the importance of Miss Darcy, daughter of Lady Anne, marrying the youngest son of an Earl, has a very different occasion in mind. In taking this strong, personal interest in Georgiana’s nuptials, we must assume that Lady Catherine in fact intends to witness them. (Upon Georgiana’s betrothal, my Husband wrote his Aunt a most conciliatory letter, to which he has yet to receive the honour of a reply.)

  I should have mentioned this earlier (forgive me) but pray, do not fret that you will not be at my side while I am in child-bed. I, too, had presumed my Mother intended to remain with me at Pemberley where, incidentally, she could have prolonged her pleasure in Lydia’s company by another fortnight. Yet Mama professed an urgent need—indeed, it was her duty—to return to Longbourn and my Father, having been absent far too long. I cannot help wondering whether other reasons persuaded her to return so urgently: my Mother continues to feel herself intimidated by Mr. Darcy, and to stay under his roof for several weeks without the support of Jane or Kitty, or even my Father, was an intolerable prospect. But I beg you not to concern yourself, my dear Aunt. I am in good health and spirits, though it would hardly be truthful if I said I was without anxiety or fear. However, I have faith that all will turn out well. One knows, of course, the uncertainty of all this, but we must think the best and hope the best.

  We left Jane last Saturday in good spirits and restored health. It gives me such pleasure to see her and Mr. Bingley so happy. Frederick Charles is a strong infant with (as I mentioned previously) such a fine set of lungs, it is hard to believe he is the offspring of such soft-spoken parents. I confess to feeling a little envious and pray that Mr. Darcy and I will be as fortunate as the Bingleys.

  A letter from Kitty just now arrived: Mamma is safely at Longbourn, but the journey has left her nerves in a poor state. My Mother remains exhausted following her anxiety over Jane’s confinement and is urging Papa to take her to the seaside for several weeks at the very least this summer if he wishes to see her restored to her former self. She gave him to understand that, but for her very real concern for her Husband’s health and happiness, she would—indeed, should—have stayed until Lizzy’s confinement—yet her duty to her Husband outweighed every other concern, even a Mother’s natural wish to be at her Daughter’s side. Kitty adds that my Father was unmoved by this rare outpouring of spousal affection, and retired to his library forthwith. It is fortunate that my Mother’s indifferent health did not prevent her calling upon Lady Lucas immediately following some restorative refreshment urged on her by Hill. Poor Kitty! Jane and I are resolved to have her with us as often as our Mot
her can do without her. It is too bad that she must be at my Mother’s beck and call in the absence of any other diversions.

  You cannot write too often. Bless you.

  E.D.

  Pemberley

  Tuesday, 19th April, 1814

  My dear Jane,

  At last, a moment to myself! Lydia is gone into Lambton, which hitherto she had found “an excessively tedious place, with little in the way of fashion or style to recommend it,” yet since my offer to purchase for her a prettily trimmed spring bonnet at Weaver’s—by good fortune the exact colour of her new travelling dress—Lambton has gained a little in her favour. The village is, no doubt, grateful for the compliment.

  I fear that our quiet life at Pemberley has disappointed our youngest Sister. Anna and Fanny Norland have been kind enough to wait upon us twice, for which I am indebted to them. They have little in common with Lydia, who made no effort to hide her boredom once she discovered they had little knowledge of, or interest in the latest fashion in hair ornaments and shoe trimmings. Sir Richard Mansfield who, as you know, needs little excuse for a party, generously gave a small one in Lydia’s honour, but an absence of sufficient young men to dance and flirt with at Hurstbourne Park prevented the occasion being at all amusing, she informed me upon her return.

  Mr. Darcy’s business keeps him in town another fortnight. His hope that the matters which brought him there might be more speedily concluded was, sadly, a false one. I long for his return, and feel his absence keenly. His letters indicate that he is as anxious to be home again as I am to have him by my side. “As I look about me in fashionable company in London,” he writes, “I see none I like half so much as my own dear Wife. Indeed, to enjoy the repose of my own fireside listening to my Wife, in her chair opposite, read a poem aloud, is my dearest wish.” Is that not a sweet sentiment?

  Notwithstanding my efforts to entertain our Sister, I spend my days in quiet and ease, exactly as you required of me. Profitably, too, for the basket at my side is nicely filled with nursery items, as is the poor-basket. How fortunate that I had few expectations of our Sister’s needle making any contribution, else I should be sorely disappointed. While I stitch, Mrs. Wickham leafs through copies of La Belle Assemblée and Ackerman’s Repository, bemoaning all the while the unfairness of not being able to have all the gowns and bonnets to which she takes a fancy, and to which she feels entitled. I have chosen to ignore her hint that Mr. Wickham really ought to have a fancy toothpick case and that since Mr. Darcy is in town, might he not be persuaded to purchase one from Gray’s?

  How pleased I am to know that you and my Nephew continue in good health! And how dearly I wish I were able to travel with Lydia on the 24th to see you! However, since by way of compensation my dear Husband returns from town the following day, and with Georgiana rejoining us but three days later, pray do not feel too sorry for your devoted Sister,

  Elizabeth

  Pemberley

  Thursday, 19th May, 1814

  My dear Charlotte,

  How quickly a year passes! It seems hardly possible that young Robert celebrates his first birthday next week. I rejoice that he is in excellent health and brings you such happiness, and can well imagine how proud Mr. Collins must be of such a fine son.

  Immediately upon her return from Rosings, I uncharitably questioned Georgiana minutely and at great length about you and your family, when all the while poor Georgiana was longing for me to commiserate with her on her uncomfortable stay there. (By the bye, I am obliged to you for receiving G. so often and in such Sisterly fashion. She tells me that your kindness made the difficult audiences at Rosings much easier to bear, the more so because of your tact in not plying her with questions she may have found awkward to answer.)

  You know, perhaps, that Lady Catherine was on the point of taking over the wedding arrangements herself, thus obliging Georgiana and the Colonel to inform their Aunt of their own wish for a simple, quiet ceremony; that while they were both loath to disappoint their Aunt, in this instance, however, &c., &c.

  Lady Catherine, not a woman to be gainsaid, did not receive this well-intentioned speech well. It is a tribute to the good natures and temperaments of both that they bore the frankness of her Ladyship’s remarks so valiantly. Knowing them both so well, it must have pained them exceedingly to have gone against her wishes; only their greater fear of the outcome were Lady C. to have her way armed them for the fray. (I relate the above at Georgiana’s request. She is exceedingly thankful to you, feeling most uncomfortable and ungrateful that she was obliged to be so secretive at the time. Having reassured her that you were to be trusted not to reveal any confidences she might share with you, she begged me to tell you all and extends heartfelt apologies for her earlier wariness.)

  You may not yet have heard—since the letter only arrived a few days ago—that Colonel Fitzwilliam’s Father is to give them a fine house on his estate. They are both most deserving of his generosity and I am delighted for them, but I shall miss Georgiana dreadfully. We have known each other but a short time, yet I am as fond of her as a Sister could be, and (dare I say it?) take a little credit for her blossoming into a fine young woman with a little more confidence and a great deal less fear of the world than when we first met. Since I am boasting, let me also take a little more credit for her changing relationship with her Brother, who previously (because of their difference in age and the early death of their Father) was more Father figure than Brother. I now take great delight in observing them in conversation: occasionally, she will make so bold as to actually contradict him, or even offer an opinion of her own! I hasten to add that an exchange such as this only takes place in the intimacy of our Family circle—she is not yet brave enough to venture a contradictory opinion in company. Since her betrothal to Colonel Fitzwilliam, of course, she has blossomed even further, and it gives us both much joy to see her at last happy and contented. It will be an excellent match with great affection on both sides.

  Dear Charlotte, let me once again thank you for your many kindnesses to Georgiana. Friendship is indeed a precious gift, of more real value than the finest gold. Be assured that I treasure ours.

  Affectionately,

  Elizabeth

  Pemberley

  Monday, 13th June, 1814

  My dear Aunt Gardiner,

  You will by now have received Mr. Darcy’s express informing you of the arrival of Anne Elizabeth on the 7th. He will not, however, have praised her sufficiently so I hasten to inform you of her particulars. Thankfully, she has the usual number of arms, legs, fingers and toes, but there her similarity with any other Infant ends. From her full head of soft, brown curls, to her large brown eyes fringed with long dark eyelashes, down to her tiny feet she is perfection. Were Shakespeare alive, I feel confident the mere sight of her would inspire a sonnet or two. But I am remiss in forgetting to describe the smile which lights up her dear, sweet face, and which clearly indicates her joy at finding herself in the world. (I fear little Annie may succeed in turning her Mamma into another Lady Mansfield, boring the world with the wonders of her Child, the likes of which it has never seen.)

  It is my decided opinion that Annie bears every likeness to her Papa. Her Papa disagrees, insisting that her fine brown eyes and brown curls are her Mamma’s alone. You shall decide the matter when you are next at Pemberley. My Husband’s delight in the birth of his Daughter almost exceeds my own. My love for him, the Father of my Child, grows in strength, and I look upon myself as the happiest of women. Not a day passes that I do not give thanks for my many blessings and good fortune.

  At Matins yesterday, my Husband was touched by the generosity and sincerity of the many good wishes and congratulations offered him. He had ordered the church bells rung once it was certain that Wife and Daughter were safely delivered, and instructed Mrs. Reynolds to arrange a celebration for the servants that they might share our joy.

  One of life’s blessings is that Lady Cather
ine lives at a sufficient distance to necessitate the communication of her lengthy advice by letter. Poor Charlotte, how can she bear to have every aspect of her family life dictated and overseen by such a person? Yet I remind myself that Charlotte is of quite a different sort of temperament from myself and well able to handle Lady Catherine in her own quiet fashion. I think it will be best not to reply to her instructions on the selection and hiring of wet-nurses, a subject requiring two full pages of her Ladyship’s fine notepaper to fully describe. As it is, I have no intention whatever of employing a wet-nurse and intend to suckle my Child myself. It is the modern way and while I am no creature of fashion, in this case, fashion corresponds precisely with my own opinion. I shall not be one of those Mothers who consign their Children to the nursery and to the care of a governess, to be paraded in the drawing room when convenient. No, I shall not become a stranger to my Children. Indeed, my dear Aunt, as a Mother my dearest wish is to have as close and loving and a relationship with my Children as you and my Uncle have with yours. I shall look to you for guidance and advice.

  The weather does not know how to be otherwise than fine. The Daleys sent over a fine basket of strawberries this morning with which we shall probably make jam, for Jane brought a goodly quantity from her own beds. (Dear Jane, bless her. She was such a strength to me during my Daughter’s birth, I know not how I should have got on without her. She remains here another three days.)

  Affectionately,

  E.D.

  P.S. Mr. Darcy tells me of your invaluable assistance in selecting the string of pearls from Gray’s. It is perfect in every way and will always be a treasured reminder (in the unlikely event that I shall ever be in need of one) of my Daughter’s birth, the love of my Husband and the affections of a cherished Aunt.