Amanda Grange: Dear Mr. Darcy: A Retelling of Pride and Prejudice

Your cousin,

Henry

Mr Darcy to Colonel Fitzwilliam

Darcy House, London,

September 25

I am sending this letter in care of your regiment and I hope it finds you, wherever you might be. I am beginning to wonder whether we will ever see peace on the Continent again. I thank God we are protected by the English Channel and that our navy keeps us safe, although I hear that the government are intending to repair and strengthen our coastal defences as a precaution against invasion.

Georgiana is now at school, where she is happily established. She was sorry not to see you and is looking forward to your next meeting. She will be much grown by the time you return. She has lost the sad, pinched look she had when Papa passed away, largely thanks to your mother. I am exceedingly grateful for it. I thought at one time that she would never recover, but all things pass and she is happy again.

I am not surprised by what you tell me of George Wickham. I have seen him several times in London myself. On the first occasion he tried to speak to me, but as he was under the impression there were three of me, he did not know which one to address and so he contented himself with falling over instead. On the last occasion, he was too busy with his women to notice me. Unless he changes, I doubt if he will even want the living. He has not shown any interest in the church, and I do not think he has any intention of becoming ordained.

You will be welcome at Pemberley when you return. Send a letter to announce your arrival if there is time or, if not, come anyway.

Your cousin,

Darcy

Mr Wickham to Mr Darcy

The Red Lion Inn, London,

November 6

My dear Darcy,

I owe you a letter! It must be nearly six months since I received your last. I neglected to thank you for the one thousand pounds, for which I must apologise. I would have done so when I saw you in London, but you did not see me and I could not get away from my friends, so I am repairing the omission now. I must thank you, too, for paying for my father’s funeral expenses and settling the small debts I had at the time. I hear you have appointed a new estate manager. I only hope he may be half the man my father was, God rest his soul.

I have been giving some thought to my future and I have decided not to go into the church, and so I have decided to relinquish all claim to the living your father so generously promised me. I hope you will now be able to bestow it elsewhere.

You will not think it unreasonable of me to ask for some kind of pecuniary advantage instead of the living. I mean to go into the law, and as you are aware, the interest on one thousand pounds—the sum your father generously left me—does not go very far. Your honoured father, I am sure, would have wanted me to have something in lieu of the living, and a further sum of money would be useful to me. Three thousand pounds should pay for my studies.

Your very great friend,

George

Mr Darcy to Mr Wickham

Pemberley, Derbyshire,

November 8

I am very pleased you have decided not to go into the church. I am also pleased you have decided to study for the law. I will send you three thousand pounds as soon as you resign all claims to the living.

Yours,

Darcy

Mr Wickham to Mr Darcy

The Red Lion Inn, London,

November 17

Thank you for the three thousand pounds in return for my forfeit of the living. You may be certain I will put it to good use. I will make your revered father proud of me.

Your very great friend,

George

Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Mrs Gardiner

Longbourn, Hertfordshire,

May 6

Dear Aunt,

I am writing to thank you for the bonnet you sent me for my birthday, which I think is adorable and which is the envy of my friends. I have already worn it, you will be pleased to know. It adorned my head this morning on a walk into Meryton, where it was much admired. How lucky I am to have an aunt who lives in the capital and who can send me the latest styles! Thank you again for such a welcome gift.

I am being very much spoilt and I am having an enjoyable day. Jane has given me a new fan, which she painted herself, and Mary copied an extract from Fordyce’s Sermons in her best handwriting and then framed it. She presented it to me ‘with the hope that it would guide me through the Torrents and Turmoils of a Woman’s Life’; Kitty gave me a handkerchief, and Lydia said that she would have given me a new pair of dancing slippers, but she had already spent her allowance. I had a new pair of boots from Papa, for my others were worn through. Mama gave me a new gown, in the hope it would help me to catch a husband, and said, sighing, ‘Eighteen years old and still unwed! It is a sad day, Lizzy, a very sad day indeed.’

We are going to my aunt Philips’s this evening for a celebratory game of lottery tickets. Charlotte Lucas will be there and Susan Sotherton, so I will have some congenial company. There is a rumour abroad that Charlotte’s father means to give up his business and move out of Meryton now that he has been given a knighthood. I hope to hear more about it from Charlotte tonight.

Susan is not so fortunate in her papa. He is still drinking a great deal more than is good for him, and his gambling is causing the family some unease. They have already had to sell two of the carriage horses and more economies look certain to follow—if Mr Sotherton can be persuaded to make them.

It is fortunate that Netherfield Park is entailed on Frederick, so that at least Mr Sotherton cannot gamble the roof from over their heads, as he does not own it but only holds it in trust for his son.

An entail is a strange thing, is it not? Here are we, bemoaning the fact that our estate is entailed, so that Papa cannot leave it to Mama (or anyone else he pleases) when he dies, but must leave it to Mr Collins, meaning that we will no longer have a home.

But with Susan’s family it is quite the reverse. They are relieved that Netherfield Park is entailed, for otherwise their papa could sell it and then they would no longer have anywhere to live. Mama hopes that one of us will marry Frederick, but as he appears to be quite as fond of drinking and gambling as his papa, we are none of us inclined to have him. We will not marry until we find men we like, admire, love and respect. Or, at least, Jane and I will not, though I cannot answer for my younger sisters, who seem to think that marriage to anyone is an object, just so long as they can do it by the age of sixteen.

Thank you again for my bonnet. It will have a second outing this evening, where I hope to astonish everyone with my finery.

Your loving niece,

Lizzy

Mrs Bennet to Mrs Gardiner

Longbourn, Hertfordshire, May 6

Ah! Sister, it is a sad day, a sad day indeed. To think I now have two daughters of eighteen years old or more and neither of them is married, nor in a way to being so. It is hard on a mother, very hard indeed. You know nothing of it yet, your children are still too young to be a worry to you, but it is a sore trial, it is a very sore trial indeed. And it plays havoc with my nerves. I have such palpitations when I think about it, such beatings of my heart, but no one here cares about it and no one pities me.

I did think, when Jane visited you a few years ago, and she met that nice young man in London who wrote her some poems, that she would soon be married, but it all came to nothing. You must ask her to visit you again. She can come to London at any time and Lizzy, too, can come at a moment’s notice. There will be more young men for them in London than there are in Meryton.