My dear friend,
I ache for you!
My sister glanced up at me a little embarrassed and explained. “I had written to her after Lady Montiel’s ball when we were both so tired, you see.”
I smiled softly as encouragement for her to continue reading.
What an endless parade your Season seems to have been. Might it help you to hear that here at Longbourn, I, too, am enduring an endless parade? Only in my case, it is one of hours so lacking in excitement as to make us sit in our parlouras six deflated figures with our gowns hung limply at our feet, plying fans while Lydia endlessly complains that there is nothing to do.
She is, you see, suffering from a severe blow to her enjoyment of life, for she had been invited to go to Brighton with Colonel Forster’s wife upon the relocation of the militia to their next encampment. Their plans changed, however, when Colonel Forster failed to take formal possession of the barracks there before the option was forfeit and given to a brigade of new recruits who are to train on the coast. The militia is now slated to go to Lyme, and the officer’s quarters are too cramped for even Mrs Forster to think of inviting Lydia to go along.
The loss of the officers has oppressed my mother and my younger sisters to such a tiresome degree that it has fallen to my father to point out that not one of them had a penny or prospects. Mama at last heard him on this point and settled all her hopes upon Colonel Fitzwilliam—until he also decamped. God bless him, I am happy for his escape, for he was hounded by everyone in Meryton to take tea, play cards, and eat dinner—none of which he could comfortably do with only one arm.
It is a relief to hear he is back in London where he might not be hunted so dreadfully. If he can rest, which I pray he can, I hope for an accelerated recovery of his shoulder. That said, the colonel’s arrival on any given day had been the height of entertainment for us, and even Jane has once or twice mentioned the loss of him.
This news is dull, I know, but do not despair for me, my friend. I have received a letter from Mrs Gardiner, and I am to accompany my aunt and uncle on a holiday to the Lakesin August. Can you imagine my joy to be released from the confinement of my home and the company of such dispirited girls? What sights await me! I am wild to go, and my sisters are raw with jealousy. They have—except for Jane—even snubbed me a little. I have responded by talking of what clothes I should take and humming as I go up and down the stairs the whole day long. I suppose I should not flaunt my happiness, but I cannot pretend to be sad to leave.
And now for you, dear friend, my hope is that the remaining parties all pass in one little blur, and in no time you find yourself riding through the grounds of your estate on a cloudless day, an occasion which you have so eloquently described as to forever fix a glorious image of you in my mind.
With every hope for a most pleasurable end to your summer,
Elizabeth
CHAPTER 23
As it turned out, Fitzwilliam, who had been searching for me, peeped into the room and discovered my sister and me closeted there at the conclusion of our enjoyment of Elizabeth Bennet’s letter.
“What is this?” he teased.
Rather than act as guilty as I felt for having consciously excluded him, I said, “Georgiana often reads me her letters from Miss Elizabeth. Did I tell you she has found that lady to be an excellent correspondent?”
He came into the room and sat down. This discomposed my sister a little, for he had never done so before. Her maid, however, had come to expect my visits and had her dressed in a silk embroidered robe with her hair prettily arranged, so it was not as though she was in truedeshabille.
“What does your new friend have to say? I enjoy her conversation very much. I visited her, you know, when I was in Hertfordshire. I met her family, which is entirely made up of girls, and I was made to feel like the King of Siam upon my arrival. Did she mention it?”
My sister was forced to reply in the affirmative, and at his urging, read the paragraph which referenced him, politelysparing him the information that Mrs Bennet hoped to make him a son-in-law. When she came to the end of her recital, he asked her to repeat the last passage…the colonel’s arrival on any given day had been the height of entertainment for us, and even Jane has once or twice mentioned the loss of him.
“Miss Bennet mentioned me? She is uncommonly beautiful. You have met her, Darcy. Do you not agree?”
“She is considered to be the beauty of the neighbourhood and has somehow kept her modesty intact. There is a great deal to admire in her.”
“But I believe you admire her sister more?”
“I do. She is a great favourite of my own sister, you see, and so she is a great favourite of mine. But, were you looking for me? We should go down to breakfast and let Georgiana have what peace she may before she is whisked off to endure a musical recital.”
“I thought you enjoyed nothing more,” he said to her in surprise.
After a nearly imperceptible sigh, she said, “I did when it was a treat after a week at home with no entertainment.”
We went down to breakfast and when the footmen had left the room I said, “You must be in a great deal of pain. Either that or you are in a temper because you have decided to pay a call on your mother today. Why else would you press upon my privacy so openly and in front of my sister? This is unlike you, and I cannot even ask you to step outside, so I can poke you for it.”
He did not contradict my assessment or pretend he did not know to what I referred. “I own I am so foul these days as to hate myself. If it would make you feel better, you may incapacitate my other arm, for what use am I?”
“This, too, is unlike you. You forget how many men you have known who have lost a dominant arm and learnt how to use the other successfully.”
“You are right, of course, and once I have endured my mother’s probing questions and pocketed the list of ladies with fat portions I am to call upon, I believe I shall take your advice and extend my leave.”
“Will you go to Pemberley?”
