As she prepared to leave the little bit of paradise she shared with her husband, she foundeven morereason to be happy because she hada letter from Lizzy. Upon seeing the post delivered by the old couple who tended the cabin, Jane cried out in delight, sprang up, and ran in circles much to the amusement of her husband, who like any ardent man found much to approve in the movements of his lovely wife. Jane knew not how much it affected him, nor how difficult it was for him to allow her time to read the letter, but such self-knowledge would have had no effect on her happiness anyway, so it was probably for the best. At long last,she had a letter from Lizzy. Elizabeth Bennet was back in contact.
The letter was oddly formatted, taking three pages that could have easily fit on one. It appeared to have had quite the journey to arrive at her doorstep, having been redirected at least four times. A scan of the letter revealed it was written in manyhands, some of which were so bad as to make her husband’s penmanship seem excellent.
Even the thought of her sister’s existence on another continent, on the other side of the ocean, in the midst of war, did not worry Jane overly much, since it was difficult for her to imagine the possibility of anything bad happening to a force of nature like Elizabeth. However, the extreme tardiness of the letter would have given her a little concern had she been willing to entertain any idea of risk.
She opened the letter, looked at the date, and gasped. The text indicated that Lizzy waswoefullyout of date. The letter had been sent well before Jane’s marriage, and apparently travelled through most of the Empire before arriving at her doorstep. Of course, with two wars waging, she imagined she should be satisfied that the mail worked at all, let alone quickly and efficiently.
With restless anticipation, she read the oddest-looking letter she had ever seen.
~~~
My Dearest Jane,
I hope you will excuse the rather unusual style of this letter. As I am now an American, I have assumed the mantle of inventor. I find there are matters I wish to discuss that should be at least private, and though I fully trust my usual scribe, Mr H, and my companion, I wish to have a letter to which no one is fully privy. As I have dozens of students under our school’s tutelage, I have extended the writing lesson, having some write a paragraph at a time for me. I hope most will be legible, particularly this paragraph, as it is written by young Betsy Macintosh, who giggles furiously as she writes. She faithfully promised that hers will be the absolute best paragraph in thepiece, and the quality so good I shall be required to engage her as my new secretary.
We have so much momentous news it is hard to know where to begin. A is soon to marry a very estimable man, Mr R. You will like him tremendously should you ever meet, and I am enormously happy with her success. He is a man of business, engaged in building a great canal over 300 miles from New York to Ohio. I hope one day to ride the entire length, though it will be some years before it is complete, if ever. Mr R possesses many other fine qualities, which I could detail at length, but I must be reasonable as Betsy is overdue for supper.
Much to my surprise, I have learnt that I am now wealthy. Lady C, in a move of equal parts officiousness, sneakiness, and generosity, settled quite a large sum on me should my companion succumb to either death or matrimony. Naturally, the latter status was preferred over the former, but I was instructed only to be her friend. Lady C even told me I was the opposite of a governess, and I was to try to lead A into trouble. I doubt the lady had quite so much trouble in mind, but I believe her to be happy and satisfied. I am also released from any obligation to Miss dB, other than friendships, though I must say the bounds of friendship will keep me here for quite some time—possibly the rest of my life. Mr and Mrs R have invited me to stay with them all my days, and while it appeals, and I will stay for a time, I believe that is not my ultimate fate.
We leave in a few weeks for the state of Ohio, about 300 miles inland. Despite the war, we are not considered in danger here, but most believe being inland will be safer, and of course Mr and Mrs R must return to their own home. I will go with them, and stay for the foreseeable future. Perhaps I will be the maiden aunt to their children, or perhaps I shall eventually set up my own establishment. Lady C granted me the great powerof choice, and I must thank her profusely should I ever be in her company again.
That brings me to another subject perhaps painful to us, but important. I did not invent this unusual writing style solely for you. I must sheepishly confess that while having this letter crafted, I had the same students write one to Mr D, and I hope he will share it with Mr B. I believe you know to whom I refer. I know it is frighteningly forward and shatters propriety, but my sense of justice demanded I release the man from any sense that I might be somewhere in the world thinking ill of him. After much consideration, I decided both gentlemen committed no offence against either of us, and should be forgiven for the actions of Miss B. My letter states my belief in clear terms, and I hope that if he harbours any lasting ill feelings from the incident, they will be laid to rest.
I know such an action is improper, but I deemed it essential since I may never have a chance to offer my apologies in person. I had much time to reflect on those two gentlemen, and I believe that, in essentials, they are very good men. I know you are frequently in company with Lady C at Rosings, so you will almost certainly encounter Mr D eventually. When you do, I beg you give him a chance. I do not know if he has suffered from the lack of our society, but if he has, I hope my letter will allow him to let the past remain where it belongs, and I believe if you could befriend him, it would be good for both of you.
I will write again upon arrival in Ohio, but do not expect another letter for some time. The mail is functional, but unreliable, so I must bid you adieu. Pray kiss little Abbie for me, and should you see Mr D or Mr B, convey my best regards.
Elizabeth
~~~
Despite the abominably long delay, and Elizabeth’s woeful ignorance of her sister’s affairs, Jane was happier than she had been in a very long time. Considering her recent spirits, that was saying a great deal.
She immediately sought her husband and showed him the letter. His face lit up with delight at every sentence. He was a man formed for amiability, and when he read the final lines, he looked at her with a smile so enormous it was nearly frightening.
“Give them my best regards indeed!We must find Darcy immediately.”
With a happy cry, the couple set off to pack their few possessions with alacrity, as there was a need to departimmediately—though with a couple married only three months, the definition of that word did not precisely match what it might for ordinary people.
~~~
Two days later, Jane burst into the parlour at Rosings, the site of many of her fondest memories. She should have gone to the parsonage to clean up and see her sister first. If nothing else, it would have been the proper thing to do, but Lady Catherine had never stood on ceremony with the Bennet sisters, and Bingley had seen the Darcy coach next to the stable.
Jane was so giddy with excitement she practically skipped into the room, Lizzy’s letter in hand, ready to spread joy and sunshine to all and sundry.
The mood did not survive the absolute shock, like a bucket of ice water, of finding the expected Lady Catherine and Mr Darcy alongside the thoroughlyunexpectedColonel Fitzwilliam.
Both parties gasped. They stared, spellbound and frightened, and Jane’s progress was arrested so quickly her husband nearly collided with her. Lizzy’s letter fell unnoticed, and everyone was rooted to the spot, unable to do or say anything.
The colonel reacted first.
With a short, quick bow, he said, “I beg your pardon,” and turned to leave.
The words unfortunately came out like gravel rolling under a barrow wheel, and Jane understood not a syllable. It was however clear that the man was embarrassed, frightened, ashamed, or merely polite, as he immediately started walking out with a stride just short of a run.
He hadalmostreached the far door when Jane found her voice. It emerged with surprising authority, sounding closer to Lady Catherine than Jane Bingley.
“Not so hasty, if you please, Colonel.”
