The Letter

by Emma Crawley

  “I do not know how you can be so generous,” I cried as I sat on the end of her bed and watched her put the final touches to her hair. “I should never be as calm as you. I think you have every right to feel resentful of all that has happened. Your goodness is angelic. How can you be so selfless?”

  “What have I done that is so selfless? I have no choice but to act as I am. It cannot be otherwise. Who knows how selfish I might be if I had any other option?”

  I laughed. Our mother had always said Jane had the sweetest disposition of all her girls. It was one of the few things she was right about. If Mr Collins had proposed to Jane - which he would have done if we were not all in expectation of a proposal from Mr Bingley — there is not a chance she would have done as I did and refused him. She would have put her own feelings and wishes to one side to do what was best for her family. If I could be grateful to Mr Bingley for anything, it would be that.

  “Now, do not sit there any longer looking to be of service to me. Get dressed. You cannot go to the Portlands looking like that.”

  I left the room to change.

  12

  The Portlands were also a merchant family, but they had done exceedingly well in India. As their prospects had risen, so too had their ambitions. Their townhouse in Mayfair was in one of the finest squares. I looked out the carriage window in admiration as the building, all lit up with beeswax candles in every window, came into view.

  “What do you think, Aunt? When Uncle’s business reaches a certain point, will you also seek to move to Mayfair?” I asked with a smile.

  “Nonsense, Lizzy,” said Aunt Gardiner. “We shall settle for nothing less than rooms at St James’s.”

  “And rightly so.” I looked about the square. I recalled Miss Bingley, one night in Netherfield Park, mentioning that Grosvenor Square, the very place we were now, was the town address for Mr Darcy. My eyes swept along the tall, handsome buildings, trying to guess which one might be his. For all I teased my aunt, I could not help thinking I might have been mistress of one of these houses if I had so chosen. Perhaps Mr Darcy would have already brought me here to introduce me as the future lady of the house. Those gardens in the centre would have become as familiar to me as Gracechurch Street. I should have known the Portlands as neighbours. I glanced across the carriage at my aunt and uncle’s smiling faces as they leaned in closer and whispered to one another. But if I had accepted Mr Darcy’s offer, it would have meant the end of my relationship with those two. That was not a price I could have paid for every house in this square. The carriage came to a stop outside the house. As a footman came to open the doors, I took a deep breath and accepted his hand.

  Mrs Portland was a tall, handsome woman, perhaps only a little younger than my aunt. My aunt had mentioned she had been in school in Derbyshire just like she had, close to Pemberley, Mr Darcy’s estate. I had recoiled at the thought at first, but once I had time to think more on it, I thought it might be an excellent test. If Mrs Portland, Mr Darcy’s neighbour, did not seem to know of any rumours, I could be assured I was safe.

  “I am so glad to see you, Marianne,” Mrs Portland cried. “How lovely you look. The years never seem to touch you. Why have you not visited us more often? We have been most lonesome without you.”

  “Forgive me, Emily. We have been much engaged with our little ones. And you know we have two of our nieces staying with us.” My aunt turned and introduced Jane, and I. Mrs Portland’s eyes lingered over both of us. I kept my smile fixed in place and tried not to look too anxious as her gaze swept back and forth, from Jane’s lovely face to my own.

  “Well, I am glad to meet you both,” she said. “And you are lately returned from Kent, I understand?” she said, turning to address me.

  “I am.”

  “What a coincidence. My neighbour, Mr Darcy, has recently been in Kent. Perhaps you are acquainted with him?”

  I felt my face heat at the mention of that name. I was trying to school myself to look indifferent when to my horror, Mrs Portland turned and called across the room.

  “Mr Darcy. There is a young lady here I think you will have much in common with.”

  I exchanged a horrified look with Aunt Gardiner while Jane looked pleasantly astonished.

  “Really, Emily, there is no need to…” began Aunt Gardiner.

  Whatever she said after, I did not hear it. I stared transfixed as the crowd moved away, and a tall, handsome man crossed the room.

  Whatever he felt, I could not say. His face was stonier than I had ever seen it. He bowed to Mrs Portland. I felt a flicker of annoyance that he did not even look at me though there was no way he could have avoided seeing me.

  “I am at your service, madam.” That deep voice was as aloof as ever. When I last heard it, it had warm with passion. Or perhaps I misremembered it?

  “Mr Darcy, you shall not be bored, though I know you dislike public engagements in general,” said Mrs Portland. She fluttered her eyelashes, and her voice had a breathy quality to it that I could not help raising my eyebrows at. But Mrs Portland was still a young woman, barely in her thirties, and remarkably handsome. By contrast, Mr Portland was a stout, red-faced man who had not seen thirty in many years. I suppose I could not blame Mrs Portland for being so taken with a man like Mr Darcy. Even if for some inexplicable reason, I could not resist feeling annoyed. She pressed her hand against his arm. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the niece of my dear friend, Mrs Gardiner, has also just arrived in London from Kent. Perhaps you have been to the same places?”

  Finally, Mr Darcy turned to look at me. His demeanour was cool. If he felt anything at the sight of me, I had no idea. Feeling as flustered as I was, I felt at a distinct advantage. How could he seem so untouched when my heart was pounding and my hands as they gripped my fan felt slick with sweat inside my new gloves? It was unfair that he should be so cool and unruffled; he who had caused all this.

  Mr Darcy bowed to me, and I dropped a grudging curtsy, feeling grateful for the opportunity to drop my eyes to the floor for a moment as I gathered myself.

  “Miss Elizabeth Bennet and I are acquainted,” he said in that terse voice. “She stayed at her cousin’s house, which is separated from my aunt’s…”

  “By only a lane,” I added. “How surprising to see you again, sir. I did not realise you intended to leave Kent so soon.”

  “There was little reason for me to stay.” His eyes burned into mine. Something seemed to call his attention, and he roused himself. “And of course I am also acquainted with Miss Jane Bennet though it has been many months since we last saw one another.”

  Jane curtseyed to him, and though she was surprised, she was not nearly as wrong-footed as I felt.

  “This is a pleasant reunion,” she said in a soft voice. “I did not know you were in town, but I was happy to learn from Lizzy that you are well. Are you — are you here alone?”

  “Quite alone, I am sorry to say,” said Mrs Portland. She smiled, but there was a hardness in her eyes that suggested she saw Mr Darcy as her property and did not appreciate realising he had a previous relationship with other ladies. “He only returned today, and I insisted he join us for dinner rather than remaining at home all alone. I could not have borne it if he sat on his own when we were all so cheerful here. Besides…” I noticed her fingers still gripped his arm. “It has been too long since we have seen him. I am sure you missed us as much as we missed you, did you not, sir?” Her eyelashes fluttered again and once again, that strange irritation surged through me. I looked at Mr Darcy to see what he made of her flirtatiousness.

  His eyes were fixed on my face. I had an idea that Mrs Portland could throw her arms around him and he would not notice. I could not resist a grim pleasure at the knowledge that I quickly scolded myself for.

  A slight pressure on my arm recalled me to my aunt and uncle’s presence. I felt a flush of shame at having forgotten them in my distraction. Whatever Mr Darcy might think of them, I would never disgrace them by having them think I was ashamed
of them; my most sensible and worthy relations after Jane. I raised my chin defiantly, and a questioning look came into his eyes, almost as though he recognised the expression. To my surprise, a small smile flickered over his face.

  “Yes, Miss Elizabeth?” he asked.

  I almost stumbled on my words for a moment at the challenge in his voice.

  “Mr Darcy, will you allow me to present my aunt and uncle, Mr Edward Gardiner and Mrs Marianne Gardiner. Jane and I are staying with them…” I glared at him. “At Cheapside.”

  Mr Darcy’s eyes widened slightly, and he bowed.

  “You are Mrs and Mr Gardiner?” His tone declared him surprised. I could not resist a triumphant smile. He had no idea they could look like such respectable people. He had clearly taken them for people of fashion. “It is good to meet you. Your nieces spoke of you with great affection.”

  He bowed to my aunt, and after a moment’s pause, he offered his hand to my uncle. Now it was my turn to be surprised. When he had shaken my uncle’s hand, he turned to look back at me.

  “And how have you been since your return to London?”

  “Quite well. I am happy to be with my family once again. And how is everyone in Kent? I hope your aunt is not too desolate after our departures? Her card tables will be much reduced.”

  My aunt gently nudged me, but oddly enough, Mr Darcy did not look too offended.

  “My aunt is as my aunt always is. But I think Mrs Collins misses you a great deal. I took my leave of her before travelling here. She said if I saw you to send you her love.” His voice stumbled a bit at that last word.

  “And Colonel Fitzwilliam?” I asked quickly to cover up that dangerous word. “How is he? I cannot imagine he would wish to stay without you?”

  “No. He has travelled to his parents’ estate in Wiltshire. He will return to London soon to depart for France.”

  A sharp sound beside me caused me to jump. Mrs Portland had clapped her hands with a fixed smile on her face that seemed more like a grimace.

  “Shall we all move into the drawing room?” she said in a high voice that suggested she was extremely annoyed. I dropped back to walk beside my aunt, feeling relieved to have some moments to gather myself.

  “This is the proud, unpleasant Mr Darcy you spoke of?” said Aunt Gardiner in surprise as she took my arm. “I do not see it at all. He is a little stiff, perhaps, but if I had not had your account of him, I should have put it down to shyness. Look at how he speaks with Edward. From your stories, I should have thought he would have rebuffed us with disgust.”

  I glanced to the side to see Mr Darcy and my uncle exchanging words I could not hear. He nodded as he listened to Uncle Gardiner and even smiled at a few points. I felt a rush of fierce pride in Uncle Gardiner as I saw how he held Mr Darcy’s attention. No one could think ill of such a clever, sensible man. I was glad Mr Darcy could see I had some relatives I need not be ashamed of.

  “He has had a difficult few days,” I ventured. “Perhaps it has softened his heart? It must have been a blow to him to be denied something from a person as far beneath him as I. I should not put too much faith in it. There is no reason to believe he will not return to his usual manner once the impact has passed.”

  Aunt Gardiner gave my arm a gentle tap with her fan.

  “You are severe. You told me already how you realised you had been wrong about him. You said he was a far better man than you gave him credit for. Is it not to be wondered at that he might have the goodness to change in other ways once he realises he has been unjust about your family?”

  “Goodness knows, Aunt,” I said with a resigned sigh. “To tell the truth, I am tired of thinking about him at all. I would give anything to the person who could pluck him from my head for at least a few days. And just when I think tonight might be a pleasant opportunity to meet new people and forget what has passed in the previous few days, up he pops again. I should like to forget him if I could.”

  Aunt Gardiner patted my hand. “Well, perhaps you will do so soon enough, my dear.”

  13

  Forgetting proved impossible, however. As we took our seats around the dinner table, I was dismayed to see Mr Darcy sit beside me.

  “Oh, Mr Darcy, I have saved a seat for you here,” cried Mrs Portland. She gestured to the chair across from her which was promptly taken by her corpulent husband who arrived into the room in a fog of cigar and brandy fumes. Her mouth tightened. I glanced at Mr Darcy to see how he took her marked preference for her. He treated her with the same indifference he showed toward Caroline Bingley. I looked away before I could smile too broadly.

  “I wished to ask you about your journey to London,” he asked in a quiet voice as the dishes were spread out before us. “I hope you were comfortable?”

  “Very. Your aunt keeps an excellent carriage.”

  “You did not want for anything?”

  “Nothing at all, sir,” I said, keeping my voice as light and polite as I would if I had been addressing a stranger on the street who was remarking on the weather.

  Mr Darcy fell silent as we chose from the various dishes before us. He noticed me looking at a tureen of potatoes and reached for them before I could pretend I did not want his assistance.

  “I must apologise for her behaviour toward you. She had no call to speak to you in such a manner. Nor had Mr Collins. I can assure you I took them to task for it after you had left.”

  “And before I left, if I recall,” I said. “I owe you my thanks for that.”

  “You do not. I caused the situation. It was my fault they spoke to you the way they did.”

  “It was their fault. They chose their words and must be the ones responsible for it. It is the way of the world, I am afraid. If a woman and a man have…” I glanced around the table. Everyone was chatting with their neighbours or too busy helping themselves to meat to pay any attention to us. The only one who looked at us was Mrs Portland, and she was too far away to attend to our conversation.

  “You were speaking?” His voice was grave.

  My face warmed. “If there is any hint of impropriety between a man and a woman, they will always blame the woman. It is the way of things.”

  “I cannot argue with you there. Yet it is not right, and I will not sit by and allow anyone to abuse a woman due to my actions.”

  “You are very kind, sir.”

  Mr Darcy was silent for a moment. I wondered if that was the end of our conversation until he spoke again.

  “You allow me to be capable of kindness, then?”

  I had taken a sip of watered wine, and I coughed a little at the question. Why on earth did I have to be seated beside Mr Darcy, having to hear him raise topics I would sooner forget?

  “I allow you to have more qualities than I gave you credit for,” I admitted, keeping my eyes fixed on the crystal glass in my hand as though mesmerised by the light.

  Another silence stretched between us. The young man on my other side took the opportunity to speak with me. He was a smiling, pleasant fellow about my age. We chatted for some time about London and the various shows we would see during our stay here. I kept my attention focused on him as much as I could, hoping Mr Darcy would start some other topic of conversation with his neighbour.

  Unfortunately, I forgot about Mr Darcy’s talent for sitting in silence in social settings. When my companion was obliged to speak to someone else, I was forced to turn to him again. But I would not speak. If he wished to have a conversation, he must be the one to choose a topic.

  “How long do you intend to stay in London?” he asked after a long silence.

  “I am not sure. Perhaps a month. No less than three weeks at the least. And you?”

  “I have no plans at present.” He glanced across the table at Jane. “Miss Bennet looks in good health.”

  “She does.” I looked to where Jane smiled and laughed with her neighbour. “But she is not happy,” I could not resist adding.

  Darcy did not respond.

  “Mr Darcy, w
hat are you speaking of?” called Mrs Portland in a cheery voice. I caught Mr Darcy rolling his eyes before he could prevent himself.

  “We are talking of Kent and old friendships, madam.”

  “My word, you two know one another far better than I realised!”

  “Not at all, madam.”

  Mrs Portland did not look pleased when Mr Darcy declined to volunteer any further information. Eventually, she left the table. As dinner ended and we returned to the drawing room, I caught sight of her out in the passage, in earnest conversation with her housekeeper. No doubt she was taking the poor woman to task for somehow causing Mr Darcy to sit beside someone else. Their conversation looked very urgent from what I could see. I hoped she was not in too much trouble.

  I was sitting with Jane and my aunt when the gentlemen finally joined us. I was surprised and a little flustered to see Mr Darcy enter in the company of my uncle. Whatever my uncle said made him smile and clasp his hand warmly. I exchanged an astonished look with my aunt but looked away when her smile grew sly.

  “They seem to get along rather well, do they not?” she whispered.

  “As well as Mr Darcy can get along with anyone,” I responded. I knew I was unfair, but I felt too provoked by the whole evening to concern myself with fairness right then.

  Uncle Gardiner crossed the room to join us, accompanied by Mr Darcy. The gentleman sat beside us, but he did not speak. My aunt and uncle and Jane talked and laughed together, and when the topic turned to a trip to the theatre, we planned to take in a few days, my aunt invited Mr Darcy into the conversation.