Story in Letters: parts 1,2, and 3
Posted By: Elaine J.
Date: Wednesday, 19 July 2006, at 11:12 p.m.
Okay, this is all the parts I have written so far. Since part one was lost apparently, I have reposted it here, as well as part two, and the newly written (this very second actually) part three. The set up is this: Lydia and Wickham meet before Darcy and Elizabeth, resulting in a forced marriage and a very different first meeting for our hero and heroine. Will things change when first impressions are slightly more positive than “not handsome enough to tempt me,” or can other misfortunes and misunderstandings stand in the way of love?
~~~~~~~~~~
August 7, 1802
My dear brother,
You know I cannot keep secrets from you, but I have tried valiantly. George says I must not tell you the secret; that you will appreciate it much more if you are surprised… but I cannot help myself. I wish you to share my joy! There is no other way to say this Fitzwilliam… I am in love! I am to be married! To George Wickham your old school friend and foster brother. He has been so very dear. We are to leave for Ramsgate tomorrow. Perhaps… perhaps you will be there when we wed within the week. George will be so surprised to find you there with us. Oh I hope you will come. Nothing could make the day any happier for me than to have you there to witness my marriage to the man I love and who loves me back. Can you believe it Fitzwilliam? He loves me back! I who have always been a little child to him am now the love of his soul. I am the luckiest girl living, dear brother. And if I see you at Ramsgate I will quite certainly be the most lucky
Georgiana Darcy
August 16, 1802
Richard,
She has been found. And, I am most relieved to relate to you, she is as of yet unmarried and untouched. I know it will be a while before you can join Georgiana and I at Pemberly, so it is important I relate to you all the strange events that have taken place since I received Georgiana's tragically happy letter. As you know, I was staying with the Bingleys. I told no one except for Charles, who is the only other person I trust as much as I do you. I sped posthaste to Pemberly only to find that Georgiana had already fled with her villainous fiancée. I wasted no time in riding forward from Pemberly, tracking Wickham's obvious trail. With any luck, I would be at that wedding. But, of course, not for the reason Georgiana presumed.
Her heart was broken, Richard. And I could kill the fiend who broke it if it did not appear that it was actually I that did the deed.
But I get ahead of myself. The next thing that happened was quite usual in the way of things, but led to something entirely unusual.
While making enquiries into the whereabouts of my sister and her nefarious beau, I ran into a woman making similar enquiries. I did not exactly run into her person, but into the knowledge of her existence. Everywhere I asked questions, there came the same reply: “Oh yes… a young woman was in here earlier, with just such a look on her face as you have, sir. I assume the man you are hunting is of the nefarious sort as you both have looks of dread and contempt locked on your faces.”
This lady followed me around all day, or rather it seemed, I was following her around, as she was always a step ahead of me. I found myself searching female forms, not only for familiar golden curls and slight girlish figures, but for a face and shape I did not know, but a posture and expression I knew must mirror my own.
I found both forms, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. The mystery lady had indeed stayed one step ahead of me the entire time. But let me explain the scene as I found it exactly, so that none of the impact is lost in the telling. A local bartender had sent me to a small chapel in a distinctly odorous part of town.
“A man was here last night, drinkin' from his boots to his hair and moanin' bout bein leg shackled tomorrow morning to some rich broad whose family despised him,” the bartender had told me.
The church was small and shabby as were the surroundings. The entire atmosphere was foggy and drab and I could not imagine my sister voluntarily bringing herself to this listless place. Then a ray of sunshine darted from behind a corner and strode confidently into the church. It was, I ascertained quickly, not a sunray at all, but a slip of a girl, dressed plainly in a simple yellow dress and bonnet with matching ribbons. Yes, she was dressed plainly, but decidedly different from her surroundings. And her obviously purposeful step made me determine that she was the mystery lady whom I had followed all afternoon. A mission awaited her inside that church, as it did me, and I wondered what the fiend had done to her or someone she loved.
I was quick to follow the lady inside, or I would have been had a street vendor not pulled his cart directly in front of me, blocking my passage forward. As I stepped to the side to avoid the cart, I accidentally rammed into a woman carrying a small child. The child howled awake at the disturbance and its mother immediately began to beat me with a bag she carried around her shoulder. I apologized profusely and tossed her a coin or two for her troubles as I scurried around her, attempting to regain site of the church door. I did, eventually and hurried to the church entrance: a pair of double doors whose peeling white paint and tarnished door handles had seen better days. I was ready, Richard, to bellow at the preacher to stop this debacle, to throw Wickham to the ground and pummel him to a lifeless pulp, but it seems that I was to be denied this dramatic entrance and scene for when I threw open the double doors, absolutely no one noticed my entrance.
The woman stood rigidly at the front of the church, Georgiana pushed protectively behind her as Wickham stood still as stone not ten feet from her. Her bonnet had fallen behind her head and as Georgiana's golden head crept closer to the woman's back, I was momentarily aware of the rich and contrasting darkness of the mystery woman's hair.
“Miss. Bennet, what an unexpected surprise to see you here,” Wickham drawled.
“Is what she says true, George?” Georgiana's weak, trembling voice pulled me from my momentary stupor and propelled me forward. I don't know what possessed me Richard. I had planned on giving Wickham nothing but an icy stare and money enough to keep his tongue from wagging. I ended up, Richard, giving him a black eye, a broken jaw, a bloody nose, and I hope, a couple of bruised ribs.
When I came back to myself, it was to the firm pressure of two small pairs of hands pulling at my arms.
“Fitzwilliam!” cried a familiar voice.
“Sir, sir!” exclaimed one more firm, more commanding than the pleading tone that I knew to be my sister's. The strange voice brought me back to reason, offered a sanctuary outside the voice I knew so well that had recently been ensnared by that devil.
I pulled myself up and off the now unconscious form and searched the space behind me for the figure I knew so well and for whom I had feared for so much. “Georgie,” was all I could manage as I took her into my arms.
She's safe, Richard. You may now sleep at night; she is safe at my London house.
She is broken hearted of course, completely and utterly. And I am afraid she no longer trusts her own judgment. She will not leave the house, not even with me. Other than me, she has no wish to be in any company at all.
Except… except that of Miss. Bennet. But I have not properly introduced you to her, cousin. She is the mystery woman who I found protecting our Georgie. Meet Miss. Elizabeth Bennet. She of the dark hair. I know your weakness for brunettes, Richard, and I'm quite sure you'd be taken with this young lady. Her role in this whole debacle you ask? Why, her sister is Mr. Wickham's wife. A one Mrs. Lydia Wickham, formerly Miss. Lydia Bennet of what I have taken to calling The Bennet Five. Five daughters, Richard, and no sons. Miss. Elizabeth is the second eldest, and Mrs. Wickham the youngest. Mrs. Wickham, now a destitute, forgotten outcast of her husbands, was apparently lured into marriage with the man who thought she was something of an heiress. She was not an heiress, and marriage to her put a severe dent in his finances.
I cannot say much for the intelligence of the youngest Bennet daughter, but as to the that of the second eldest, I do not think I cannot be quiet. When she received a letter from her sister, informing her that Wickham had disappeared, leaving his wife with a pile of bills to be paid, she set immediately to finding out the man. I know you are wondering why she would take such actions, and not her father. Tis simple, her father has refused all dealings with the man, and all responsibility for his “silliest” daughter. She apparently caused him a great deal of money, and a great deal of his health. No one would help poor Mrs. Wickham it seemed and the matron of the Bennet clan grew daily worse with nerves and worrying. Miss. Elizabeth, it seemed, took it upon herself to right the situation before both her parents died of Lydia-related causes.
She of course discovered Wickham just as I was discovering Georgiana, and it seems her desire to find the man grew greater as she discovered he had a new victim.
Georgiana, it seems, has taken to the young woman as a sister, and I cannot deny her a relationship that might prove to be both comforting and beneficial.
Bingley has recently taken a house, it seems, right in the neighborhood that The Bennet Five reside in, now the Bennet Four I suppose. Perhaps it would be wise to take Georgiana there, so that she will be close to her new friend. I will not make any decisions regarding the input of her other guardian and my good friend and cousin. I hope to see you soon and will remain, until your arrival, the very distraught brother
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Part 2
September 30, 1802
My dearest Jane,
A month has been too long to be parted from my favorite sister. Aunt, Uncle, and all the little Gardiners are well, and seemingly thankful for my presence. I love them, as you know Jane, but will be glad to come back to you and papa and Longbourn. How is papa? Has he left the house? His library? Can he cope with our poor mother's nerves both day and night? That is one thing, my dear sister, I most sincerely miss. Our mother's nerves have always been a delightful source of amusement for me, when, of course, I am not the target or the cause of them.
I worry about little Georgiana. She is the same age as Lydia, but so much more fragile, it seems. She mopes about when I am with her, and always appears as if she has just finished crying. She will not talk about her experience.
She dearly loves her brother. And Mr. Darcy does seem an admirable, responsible, and very protective sibling. I would like to think that if we had had such a brother, Lydia would not have…
But I refuse to dwell on the past. What is done is done, is it not? I met the loveliest man today. All golden hair and blue eyes and, oh Jane, he reminds me just of you! He smiles often, laughs easily, and seems to be friends with all. Mr. Bingley is my Town Jane. But don't fear I shall replace you, dearest. I am coming home soon enough, and shall leave my Town Jane behind forever.
Do not think I am in love with the man, Jane. He is too much like you. Too friendly and affable, and just as with you, I would never be able to incite him into a quarrel. It is hard to see how he is a friend with Mr. Darcy. The two men are so different in every aspect. They are truly like night and day. Whereas Mr. Bingley is sunshine in appearance as well as personality, Mr. Darcy is… well, he is not darkness, or gloom, or even anything devoid of sunshine. But he is somehow darker. Of course his hair is almost black, but that has really nothing to do with it does it? Dark-haired people can be just as congenial as light-haired people I assume. I, dark-haired as I am, am congenial am I not?
There is simply something shadowy about him. Not shadowy as in underhanded or devious. But he is always so severe, so serious. I begin to wonder what it would be like to see him smile. Would it seem unnatural? Or would it light his face and make the observer see parts of him he'd left in shadows long ago? I grow too deep and ponderous, Jane. But you should have seen him attack Wickham. It was fearful. He was furious, and I feared we would never get him off that dastardly man. But he came to and just as furiously hugged Georgiana.
And then me. It was so unexpected, Jane. I know I've told you this before; my other letters have positively been bogged down with that unexpected hug. I am sure he had no idea what he was doing, I am quite positive he was mad with fear and anger and was instinctively showing his appreciation for the small amount of help I was able to give to his beloved sister.
He has made no reference to it since, and I of course could never think of broaching the subject with him. It is enough even to mention it to you.
He is all that is cordial when I go to see Georgie. And on my first visit he told me in very polite words how thankful he was for my interference. I visit the grand Darcy town home for the last time tomorrow, right before I leave for Hertfordshire. And it is quite grand, Jane. All marble columns and exquisite, tasteful furniture. It is a stately place, befitting its occupants I think.
I am saddened by the thought of losing such a close acquaintanceship with such people as I have found here, but am ever anxious to get back to you, my beloved sister. Each joy, I find, is mingled with a tear or two. Or the other way around! Depending on what type of mood you are in. I will see you soon dear Jane, and you will see me as well, your loyal and tired sister
Elizabeth Bennet
October 3, 1802
Dear Georgiana,
I pray this letter finds you in good spirits rather than in good health as I have found that you are always the picture of the latter. My journey back home, though long, was not overly taxing. I am, of course, overjoyed to be back amongst my family circle. Family is, as you know dear Georgie, a rock to cling to during storms. Although… I hesitate to use the word overjoyed, for while it is apt to describe my initial feelings, it is not now the word I would choose. Overjoy turns to joy, joy to normalcy, and normalcy soon fades to annoyance does it not? If we, one and all, are truthful to ourselves.
I suppose you even grow tired of your brother at times, as perfect as he is. Perhaps, you grow even more annoyed with him because of his perfections, than I do at my younger siblings because of their imperfections. But I can hear you reprimanding me. “Oh no,” you say, “Darcy is the most perfect of brothers, and never annoying at all.” Or perhaps you chide, “Oh, do not tease Lizzie, Fitwilliam should never be teased.” And perhaps you are right. Perhaps you are right that as a brother, he is never annoying.
But I must say, and I tell you this in strictest confidence, that your brother would make a most uncomfortable suitor. I can say this, Georgiana, because I will never be in such a position myself. And I can say this to you because you are in a position to make his future fiancée much less annoyed at her future beau. You must let her on to the fact that he is a very serious gentleman, not to be teased at all. Perhaps you must make sure to find him a wife who does not like to tease, so that he will never be susceptible to any such threat.
Oh Georgie! You must never let your brother behold these letters. He believes me a thoroughly civilized lady and will be shocked by my daring and scandalous discussion of his person. And you will be shocked too of course, but perhaps you will laugh as well.
You have a beautiful laugh Georgiana Darcy, use it often. Your friend and confidant,
Elizabeth Bennet
October 8th, 1802
Elizabeth,
I am so glad that your trip went well, and that you find your family as healthy and joyous as ever. I know you tease when you speak of them as you do. You have a big heart, one that I am glad for.
I am not good with words, so I wanted to tell you in my first letter to you how truly lucky I am to have such a guardian angel as you. You swept into that dreaded church as if you had an entire army at your back. And yet you did not need one did you? One look at your fierce form and he started quaking in his boots. And most importantly, one glimpse of your enraged face convinced me that the fantastic words you spoke were true. The man I thought my whole world was no more than a lying scoundrel and cad. And to think that I… but you always reprimand me here, here when tears fill my eyes and my heart beats thunderously in my chest. “Do not think of that now!” I hear you say. “You are safe now, and no harm has come to you.” Yes, no harm has indeed fell upon me, thanks to you and my brother. My avenging angel and my steadfast knight. Two better heroes a girl could not ask for.
Speaking of my knight, how could you speak so of him! You are daring, aren't you? I insist, he is perfect. Except… except for his propensity to a sort of seriousness that makes him frown much more than he does smile. It is a trait I have found common in myself of late, so I do not know if I can completely blame him for it. He does not have reason to smile really, with such a flighty, scandal-making sister as I.
But I am determined to do better, Elizabeth. I shall do better if only to make him proud and to bring happiness into his life. I wish to see my brother smile more often. Even since our father died, I have heard him laugh less and less.
My governess would chide me for telling you, a veritable stranger!, such intimate details of my brother, a member of the opposite sex! But you are easy to talk to, and Fitzwilliam has even suggested… though I doubt he ever thought I would tell you… that I should confide in you if you would welcome it. I believe he sees in you what I do, a kind soul, a sister.
Perhaps… but it is likely too much to ask. But it is just that you are so wonderful at making people happy, or at least less distraught… perhaps you could help me find a wife for my brother.
But it is too much to ask. I shall forget, and so shall you, that I ever asked.
Would it be too much to ask, that I may write often to you? Fitzwilliam spends considerable time with his friend Charles of late, and… but if it is too much trouble for you, then I understand. Thank you for all your help. I shall always remember it.
Georgiana Darcy
October 9th, 1802
Dear Elizabeth,
I find myself sleepless in the early hours of the morning. I hate sleepless nights, but I believe that I have found a remedy, and I must put it to use before my head quits its spinning and my thoughts give up their frantic pace. I have changed my mind… once again it seems. And now, instead of convincing myself it was a bad idea to begin with, I shall attempt to convince you what a wonderful idea it is.
I have decided that there is no one better to find my brother a wife than you, Elizabeth Bennet. You have such a good understanding of people, better than I do obviously, and people seem to like you, so I am sure you meet lots of interesting and friendly people everyday!
You see, I have decided that I will be happy when my brother is, and that he will not be happy until he has brought a wife into the long, silent halls of Pemberly. I know that you are just the woman for the job, I know that you will be able to find a woman who will meet all of my brother's strictest criteria as well as my own. Would you like to know what the criteria are? Well you shall have to know won't you! I shall start with my list, for I am sure I know my mind more than I know that mystery that is my brother at times.
I should like someone with a pleasant, sweet disposition, who will always be at home to comfort my brother, and will help with his problems and responsibilities instead of adding to them. I should like someone who I can talk to as a sister, and who can speak with me of things I cannot speak of with my brother. I want a friend, in short.
My brother would probably say that a pretty face is required, though I do not see why that is important. He would probably recommend she be from a good family, which is preferable I guess. But that should not be a problem, I am sure that you only know good families! Oh, I am sure he would like someone very proper, very ladylike, who can paint and play pianoforte, and who writes excellently.
Mayhap you could find someone adept at planning balls and parties? I do not remember Fitzwilliam every hosting any event at either Pemberly or our townhouse. Though the servants do talk of the grand parties our parents used to throw!
She should like children; I would like to be an aunt.
Oh, Elizabeth, do say you will find Fitzwilliam a wife! If not for him, then for me. Perhaps… perhaps someone like your sister Jane? I will send this epistle out tomorrow with the other, and pray for a speedy and positive reply to my enquiries. Your excited and sleepy young admirer,
Georgiana Darcy
Part 3
October 15th
Bingley,
I am glad to see that the house meets with your approval. There is, as you know, a family near by of whose acquaintance you would find worth your while. The young Miss. Bennet, as once again I am sure you are aware, is an estimable and charming young woman, and I am sure the remaining occupants of her family abode will prove just as she is.
Though I have reason to fear otherwise (the rash and silly misadventures of her youngest sister casting shadow on the proper upbringing of the Bennet sisters), I am content at the moment to give the Bennets the benefit of a doubt. After all, they did raise Miss. Elizabeth, did they not?
As for an answer to your question, or rather, your request, yes, I believe it would be a good idea to bring Georgiana to the country for a while. I believe it will be good for her to meet new people who know neither her nor Wickham. She has become shy and reclusive of late, and I hope that a sojourn into the wilds of England, into new social circles, will bring her from her funk.
It also cannot hurt that she will be close to her new friend and, I believe, heroine, Elizabeth Bennet. I confess, this is the true reason I accept your invitation to stay at your new home with you; for Georgiana solely do I accept. She was bereft the day Miss. Bennet took her leave, and I have mailed off at least three letters in the short period of time she has been gone.
Miss. Bennet was always such a bright presence in this townhouse that has of late been much too dreary. She hummed as she walked through the halls and her dresses, though inevitably covered in mud from her mid-day walks, were nevertheless crisp and cheery. Now that is gone.
Georgiana misses her dearly I'm afraid.
We will travel thence one week from now, enough time for this epistle to have reached you and for you to make ready for our extended stay. Thank you my friend, for your kind invitation,
Darcy
October 15th
Georgiana,
Your last letter, or letters, were astonishing to say the least. I am afraid I must tackle each issue one at a time to make any sense of it at all.
Issue number one: Of course you may write to me all you wish. You are as dear as a sister to me, and have been since I saw your shinning little face in that dingy little London church. Write as often to me as you like, and of whatever you wish.
Issue number two: It is not for me to say if your brother needs a wife, nor am I afraid, is it for you to say either. Only he will know when he wishes to marry, when it is best for him to marry, and neither you, nor especially I have any say in it whatsoever. I weep for you Georgy, that you have no memory of your mama and papa, and I wish you had all that you deserve in that area. But you cannot fix this, or I am afraid, your brother's moroseness, by marrying him off. You cannot think that you are able to fix others, for they must fix themselves ultimately.
Issue number three: Even if your brother were looking for a wife, it would not be up to me to find one for him. And I assume he would not want me finding him one… though I flatter myself that I could get him a good wife, a substantial one. But that is not the problem here, little one. The issue with your well-meant plan is that no one can fix anyone else up with a life-long partner. I refuse to marry without love, and I therefore would not attempt to throw anyone I know and respect into a loveless marriage.
Your brother is indeed too serious. But only he can transform himself into anything lighter. Love may be capable of this transformation, but I do not know this for certain. A good woman may be able to bring this to his life, but again, it is not for me to say, or to manipulate…
Anyway, he is much too serious for my Jane. She smiles so much he would never be at ease, and he frowns so often she would always be worrying over him. They, being so opposite in nature, would never understand why one frowns and the other smiles, and they would eventually turn each other's hair gray long before its time. A good woman for your brother would have to understand human nature somewhat, and not mind a frown and serious mean overly much!
My friend Charlotte… now she and Darcy would suit. But I've made myself laugh to think of them together, and I don't know why. I cannot take your request of me seriously, dear Georgiana, but `tis a fun game is it not? Somehow, I think the only one that might suit your brother would be royalty! For as you have often said, he is a grave and imposing person, never to be joked about, and I am afraid the only person who would dare not be intimidated by your brother is the Queen herself!
I remain ever your friend,
Elizabeth Bennet
Richard,
It appears that the militia has come to town, and I do not know now if it was the right decision to bring Georgiana here, to come here at all. The man could not have known we were to be residing here, and I can only assume that the scoundrel thought to feed off of his wedded family, as if he had never left his wife to seduce and marry his betrayed benefactor's daughter! I apologize for the illegibility of my penmanship, but I am sure that you understand the rage that grips me at this moment.
I suppose I should make myself more clear, but I am sure you have guessed, at least slightly, what has transgressed in the week we have been in Meryton. We were to make our first debut into this society at an assembly, however, I did not wish Georgiana to attend, and did not wish to leave her abandoned in a strange house on her own. Miss. Bingley attempted to take my place, her motives not quite altruistic I'm afraid, but I would have none of it, and insisted on staying at Netherfield with my sister. Because of this delay, we did not get the chance to encounter Miss. Bennet and her family until some time later during a trip into the nearby town.
It was here that hell descended upon us, Richard. Georgiana, at my side, dismounted from her horse, apparently recognized Miss. Elizabeth Bennet in the crowd of people on the streets that were watching and meeting the newly arrived soldiers. Had I realized that it was his regiment, I would have taken her back to London, but as I had no clue, what could I do? Georgie was so looking forward to a respite from the officious attentions of Bingley's sister that I could not refuse her.
Excited at the prospect of once more seeing her friend and heroine, Georgiana bounded toward what I then discerned was the back of Miss. Elizabeth's head. She was talking to a tall gentleman, a soldier. As I followed Georgie through the slowly parting crowd, I realized that Elizabeth's form was rigid, her shoulders tense and unmoving, her head high. A part in the crowd gave me room to move to the side where a glimpse of her profile told me that the rigid line of her back was indeed a pose of defense and anger. As I turned my gaze toward the man provoking such anger, Miss. Elizabeth turned her gaze toward the adoring calls of Georgy, who even now, clueless of the identity of the man standing too close to Miss. Bennet, was bounding forward.
“No!” she called out. Go, go now!” I only assume she did not use Georgiana's name because she did not want to cad to know that she was nearby, an astute move on the lady's part, but nothing less than I have come to expect from her.
Georgiana, confused by Elizabeth's denial of her presence, stopped her hurtling momentum towards that lady, and gave me ample opportunity to grab her by the waist and pull her back through the crowd and up onto her mount. As I lifted her up, I looked for some sort of reaction in her eyes, hoping that she had missed the face of Wickham and was only confused by Elizabeth's reaction. But the horrified, haunted look there assured me that all my hoping was for naught; she was indeed aware of Wickham's presence.
I wish to take Georgiana away from here, back to Pemberly where she will be safe, away from George Wickham. But she will not let me. She cries when I mention it to her, and I have had enough of witnessing her tears. Why, you ask, will she not leave a place infested by such as he? A good question, and one I have put to her several times. The answer? Miss. Elizabeth Bennet. She wishes to talk with her and seek her emotional protection I assume… something I apparently am not able of supplying my own sister with.
But how the hell am I supposed to procure Miss. Bennet's apparently soothing presence for Georgiana if we have not yet been formally introduced? It is thoroughly annoying! I have even considered stealing into Longbourne and kidnapping her right out from under her sisters' noses! A sensible plan if ever I have heard of one!
Darcy
Darcy, ole chap,
If your former acquaintance with her is not sufficient for requesting entry and a social interlude with her and your sister, then you are certainly right to be frustrated… no one can ever be introduced in as small a social scene as the country where dances, gatherings, and dinners are likely held weekly. Kidnap Miss. Bennet indeed! I would say that I sense more than just brotherly frustration and affection in that last impulsive statement, and am incredulous that you did not blot it out yourself, but that would be risky The Darcy Glare, and even from miles away, it is still rather frightening.
As for more serious matters, you have vanquished the scoundrel before, and so I believe, has Miss. Bennet, so I do not doubt that you and your kidnapped victim can handle the situation. However, I believe I will join you in your efforts. I should so like to see Georgie again, and good ole' Bingley, and his new home Netherfield… and Miss. Bennet, Elizabeth as I see you have taken to calling her when you let your guard down. No, do not glare, I have already sent an epistle to Charles, requesting a room in his new spacious home, and notifying him that you would explain the necessity of my presence at the moment. Your favorite cousin,
Richard