The Road to Pemberley (22 page)

Yours, R. F.

July 25

My dearest Louisa,

I thank you so very much for your letter. Do stop apologizing for not being able to invite me to Bath. I am not sure I would wish to go on any account, and you are entirely right in your actions. If the dowager Mrs. Hurst is in Bath, you must pay your respects. Meddlesome woman that she is, she will no doubt be very much in your business—and you recall correctly that we do not get on at all. I am sorry to hear that John has had occasion to mention your loss to his mother. A handsome man your husband may be, but he is not always very clever. No doubt the odious woman will
find some way to make it your fault. Do not pay the least attention to anything she says.

I have heard that Mrs. Darcy is in the family way, yes. I did not mention it to you only for fear of upsetting you. You have my sympathy, Louisa. It is not fair that you have been without a child for three years while she finds herself in such a happy situation not a year after her marriage. Perhaps it is the country breeding, and you should take to running about the countryside with no concern for decorum or propriety. No, you had better not. Mrs. Hurst would only criticize you for it, as she criticizes you for everything. I worry for you, dear. I know how that woman upsets you, and you do not need to face anything more when you are still recovering.

As to your advice about Colonel Fitzwilliam, I have taken it to heart. My hopes that Mrs. Weston would provide me with company have been dashed. I understand that the operation did not go as well as we all had wished and prayed for, and that they had to take the leg. She is with her husband, and I doubt very much that she will make any calls in the foreseeable future. He seemed a very nice sort of man when I called on him, and I am very sorry for him.

I do think you are being very optimistic about my chances. I am not a capital match for him, I fear. I do not mean I would be a poor match, only that he could easily do as well, or better, being that he is the son of an earl, and well connected in the military, though he has said that he may retire from the army soon, if his hip does not improve. I would be glad of it. I do not like the idea of people shooting at him.

Still, I will not avoid him. I will do my best to succeed in making him love me. I will not talk about botany. I will let him direct all of the flow of the conversation. He mentioned reading Paradise Lost. I will read it as well, or enough of it that he will
think I read it. I despair of it working, but you are right. I must try, or I will regret it.

Your loving sister, Caroline

July 30

Darcy,

May I speak of Miss Bingley without raising your suspicions if I speak only to criticize her? I was readmitted to her presence yesterday, but she has grown very dull. We did not have a conversation so much as she agreed with everything I said. I wonder if she was out of spirits, and not up to conversation, but then I wonder why she admitted me at all, if that was her condition. I did not stay long.

As to the concern that you raise—that my behavior will raise expectations regardless of my intentions—I have thought seriously on it. There is some validity in what you say, and it is possible I have been imprudent. My calls have been very frequent. However, she lives at present with her aunt, a respectable woman. We have done nothing with even the appearance of impropriety, except perhaps my calls have been longer than society dictates acceptable. As to Miss Bingley's feelings, I would be concerned indeed if I thought myself raising her expectations, but I believe we understand each other perfectly. I have seen nothing of pursuit in her, and certainly she shows no symptoms of love.

I will furthermore be leaving town altogether very soon. I go on the 4th, if all is well, and I hope to see you at Pemberley by the 10th of August at the latest. I look forward to seeing you, and Georgiana, and Mrs. Darcy. I believe Mr. and Mrs. Bingley will be gone by the time I arrive, to spend a few final months at Netherfield while their new estate is prepared. I am glad to
hear my father is gone. Ashbourne is surely more at ease. I am vastly pleased that he and Bingley have struck up a friendship. My brother is so odd, and one never can know if he will take to a person or not, but from what you have told me of the man, I think Bingley is just the thing for him. You and Ashbourne are too much alike in certain things to be good friends. (Do not make outraged faces at me. You know it is true.)

I may go to the theater tonight.

Yours, R. F.

August 3

Dear Brother,

I would be happy to join you and Jane at Netherfield on the 1 st of September. I do not know the exact plans of Louisa and Mr. Hurst, but I imagine they will accept your hospitality as well, when they leave Bath. I look forward to seeing you in town on Tuesday sennight. I am, however, perfectly happy with my aunt, and I see no reason to change accommodations for so short a time as you will be spending in town.

All my love to Jane.

Your sister, Caroline

August 5

Dear Cousin,

All has not gone well. I am trapped in London a fortnight at least. I will not bore you with the details, but it will be quite impossible for me to join you at Pemberley before the 25th—at the earliest. I need not convey to you how much I would rather be
with you and Georgiana and Mrs. Darcy and even my brother, for I am sure you already know.

I called upon Miss Bingley again, but her behavior has not changed from what it was the most recent time I saw her. She has designs upon me. Once the idea occurred to me, it became quite obvious. I wonder why she has chosen to pursue me now, when all summer we have had a pleasant friendship. Do you think perhaps if I propose, she will go back to being as she was before? I am not serious, of course, though the idea did tempt me for a moment, if only because it might have gotten me my friend back. Not that I wish to marry her. She is very pretty, and I enjoy her friendship and her company. She is not unintelligent, though I would not call her bright or witty. She is actually rather amusing, in her own way. She is very critical of everything, but she has genuine feeling in her. When I called upon her most recently, she was making a sweet-smelling sachet for the sickroom of her friend's husband, which I thought very kind of her to do. Sickrooms always have a dreadful odor, do they not?

Matrimony, however, is quite out. She will not do for me, though I'll not ramble on with all of the reasons why we are unsuited.

I only wish that she were not so determined to pursue me in such a clumsy fashion. It vexes me to see it, not least because I want better from her. I want better for her than a man who would take her while she acts in such a way, a man who cannot have either sense or respect for her.

I have spent too much time thinking about this. I will end now, and sign myself.

Your servant, R. Fitzwilliam

August 7

Dearest Louisa,

Oh, how I wish you were here!

Colonel Fitzwilliam came yesterday. Of late, he does not stay long. I blush to reveal how much his visits mean to me, though I am careful. That is, I try not to seem overeager. Charles will arrive in town on the 11 th, and I am to go to dinner at his house on the 12th. He asked me to dine with him and stay at the house he has recently let, but I would rather not have him know how miserable I have been with my aunt while he has been at Pemberley. So I declined, saying that I was so very happy with my aunt that I saw no reason to leave her. (Foolish, yes, but I have my pride.)

—August 9—

He has not come at all. I am going out of my mind. I do not like being in love.

—August 13—

I dined on Grosvenor Street yesterday. It was a small family party. Miss Kitty Bennet was there, which was just the thing to lift my mood, as you can well imagine. She has been staying with the Gardiners since the beginning of July, and is returning home with Charles and Jane. She is not quite so stupid as she used to be; that is the best that can be said of her.

I had to force myself to eat, and be myself. I have not seen him since the 6th, which is a full week! I truly have lost my mind. I shall be far, far happier when he is gone, and I can begin to put myself to rights, and forget him.

I will send this letter now, for it is meant as a letter, and not a journal.

Yours, Caroline

August 20

Darcy,

I beg your pardon for not replying to your last in a more timely fashion, but I have had a trying few weeks. In an ill-judged move, I agreed to a fencing match with a friend from my club and while I enjoyed it a great deal, my hip was less pleased by the exercise. I woke the next morning in terrible pain, but was not at leisure that day to stay in bed, so I swallowed my pride and took up my cane and made my way to St. James. All would have been well, but as I was making my way down a flight of stairs, a skitterbrained fool tried to rush past me, my crippled hobbling being too slow for him. I lost my grip on the handrail and took a fall. He was everything apologetic and helped me to my chair, and what was I to do but pardon the whole thing? I suppose I could have knocked him about the head with my cane, but they do frown upon things like that these days.

I spent the next two days at home, often abed, or hobbling about the house, snapping at the servants. I was, moreover, forced to decline an invitation to dine with the Bingleys during their short stay in town.

Mr. Bingley called on me the next day, but I am vastly prideful at times, and I did not want to reveal my weakness, so I said nothing of my hip. I only pled exhaustion as my reason for declining his invitation. We talked of my brother for a time, and I—quite casually, I promise you—asked after Miss Bingley.
She will return with them to Netherfield. I should say, she has returned with them to Netherfield, for they left on the 19th. I believe that she was not supposed to travel to Netherfield until the 1 st of September, but I suppose the allure of leaving her aunt's company could not be denied.

It is likely for the best. Her decision to pursue me put me in a very awkward spot, as I have no intentions in that direction. I have been imprudent, I confess it. I hope I have not done very much mischief by spending so much time with her. A separation is best for both of us.

On to my good news. My father's business is complete, and I leave tomorrow to join you at Pemberley. I hope to see you by the 23rd, or the 24th at the latest. This letter is, therefore, somewhat excessive, but I have done so much for Post Office revenue this summer, I could not resist stuffing their coffers just this much more.

Yours, &c., R. F.

September 4

Dearest Sister,

I am glad to hear you will be leaving Bath, and joining us here at Netherfield soon. I eagerly await your company. The Bennets grow no more tolerable by long association than they were at first blush. Oh, Jane is pleasant enough, and though I am severe on Charles at times, I do love him dearly, but the rest of the company here is unbearably stupid when they are not insufferably dull.

I have decided to put Colonel Fitzwilliam out of my mind. He was to come to dine with my brother before we all left town, and I put myself to such pains with my toilette, and even finished reading that dull book so that I might have something about which
to speak, when he sent his apologies! My preparations were wasted, for there was no one to appreciate them but Kitty Bennet and my own brother and sister!

He seemed so reserved with me the last few times I saw him. I am entirely discouraged from the whole scheme. I hope I never see him again! As that does not seem likely, I hope that I do not see him again for several months. I am sure that several weeks out of his company will leave me wondering why I cared for him at all.

This will likely be the last letter I send before I see you next, and can embrace you properly.

All my love, Caroline

January 5

Dear Darcy,

Arrived in Bath two days ago, after as comfortable a journey as one could expect in January. I have taken lodgings, and settled in. I doubt very much that the waters, or anything else offered in Bath, will be of much use to my hip, but I will not complain. My father is paying for me to spend six weeks here, and I only have to allow myself to be examined by some physician who will no doubt agree with me entirely in my assessment of the situation: to wit, my hip aches because a French soldier shot it.

Did I tell you the best part of our discussion? I believe I was still too upset when I saw you to speak of it. My father accuses me of dissembling. He says the pain, if there is pain, is caused by a desire to free myself from my responsibilities. My responsibilities are to be at his beck and call, you understand.

Forgive me. I am perhaps still somewhat out of sorts with the whole thing. I will not think any more of it. I will focus instead on
the six weeks I have ahead of me in Bath, all of them paid for out of my father's purse.

I suspect I will again begin contributing a great deal to the revenue of the Post Office, as I have few associates here. My friends are all in London—what irony. I hope Mrs. Darcy is well, and that she continues well, and that neither you nor Georgiana suffer the start of nervous disorder as Georgiana's coming out draws near.

Yours, &c., R. F.

January 9

Dear Louisa,

Now I am in Bath and you are not! And he is here. I need not specify who “he” is, for you know too well how my hopes have persisted despite my best efforts to conquer them. I am determined that I shall make a conquest while I am here in Bath. Not of him, but of someone. I will marry this year. There is a Mrs. Bingley now, and I am a guest in my brother's home, no matter what pains he may put himself to in order to pretend that I am not.