Chapter 48

Recap (Helpful Remember while understanding the letter): Elizabeth catches Wickam flirting with Lydia in a way that makes her uncomfortable (chapter 23), casting doubt on his assertions (chapter 27) in addition to her new friendship with Darcy. Something about him does ring true- so she seeks the truth at the ball (chapter 30), where Darcy promises to assist her in keeping Lydia safe . The proposal the next morning causes Lydia & Wickham to be forgotten by ODC. Mrs. Bennet showed up at Netherfield while Jane was ill and thought not of bragging about putting Jane on horseback - her behavior caused both Fitz and Darcy to have concerns- but ultimately its Darcy that acts poorly and later screwed up correcting it with Bingley. Though Elizabeth noticed the chill in his manners at the time she didn't fault him for it (half way through chapter 20), though she did not know of his conversation with Bingley.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

How had he gone 28 years so ignorant of his folly, only to now receive corrections almost every sennight? Elizabeth Bennet. Darcy knew the answer before he could finish his inquiry. She had never hesitated to give him reproof, thinking nothing of what she could gain from him, willing to state her opinions frankly, regardless of the wealth of the recipient - deference and ambiguity were not her arts -she would never feign affection and agreement where there was none.

How could he fully communicate his sentiments to her and ensure that she knew how much she meant to him? He was not perfect but he was willing to see to her reproofs, she must know that. His whole future would be a product of her reaction to this one letter - either she would forgive him or she would not.

The gravity of the task was overwhelming him- the joy of having the means to reach her was now squandered upon this consideration - failing to convey to her that he was redeemable would be the end of their acquaintance.

He wished to woo her, but he also could not bring himself to deceive her. Though Richard had reminded him to insult no one, he could not explain his conduct without explaining his reaction to her mother that morning, surely his Elizabeth would understand, she was, after all, a perfectly rational creature. He had witnessed her embarrassment at her mother's behavior, perhaps if she knew the circumstances then she would be willing to accept him? Flawed though he was.

My Dearest Loveliest Elizabeth,

You must forgive me for addressing you such, for even if I remain nothing to you, for the rest of my life you shall remain very dear to me. That being said, I write without any intention of imposing myself on you, your hope of happiness is more dear to me than my own, as such, if you can not be brought to forgive me upon reading this letter, one word from you will silence me on the subject forever and the agony shall be my alone to carry. You have my word, madam, that I will quit your company entirely, so as not to bring you further distress. It was never my intention to propose to you in such a way that you would suffer reproof for failing to accept me, nor was it my wish that you should be compelled to do something against your will.

I can not claim to be but an imperfect man, but I can, in all sincerity, claim to be perfectly besotted with you. You have bewitched me body and soul, a life deprived of your company cannot be worth living, it would be entirely absent of the depth of feeling and joy that you bring to commonplace interactions, which I once loathed, having never before been able to enjoy the required civilities. I can only vow to continue to see to your repoofs, as your good opinion is well worth the earning, your approbation granted only when it is truly earned.

I have, to my own misfortune, been surrounded by fortune hunters determined to catch me. I say it to my shame, that though I had seen through their flattering words to their selfish motives and designs, I still began to believe myself worthy of their adulation, and thus I eventually became blind to my own vanity and shortcomings -as such I would have remained if it were not for you -given good principle but left to follow them in pride and conceit. You have since opened my eyes to how ill-equipped I am to win the hand of a woman worthy of being pleased, though in truth, I had never before considered that any woman that I would bestow any measure of affection on may reject me, though neither had I tried previously to win any woman's favor.

I must now explain that even my poor manners and foul temper were insufficient to discourage the schemes of society, as they continued, much like Miss Bingley, to show that my attentions would still be welcome, ultimately (and foolishly) leading me to believe that I was the prize worth winning, but your good opinion is rarely bestowed and therefore more worth the earning. I share this with you only that you would better understand that it was my mistaken beliefs that caused me to pursue you in a manner that was less than you deserved - not a misguided belief that you were undeserving of being courted properly, fool that I am, I now bitterly regret failing to recognize my own feelings and act properly towards my designs sooner.

I share these things with you, though they prove me an arrogant fool and although I know that my every hope of happiness is contingent upon your forgiveness, so you know that I would not ever think to deceive you. You have every right to determine your own inclination fully aware of my faults, as well as that which recommends me.

I know you too well, madam, to believe you shall consider my consequence, therefore, I shall tell you the truth of my faults of character and poor decisions due to the mismanagement of my sensibilities (seeking to repress that which could draw censure), allowing you alone to judge if I am worth working on. If you can then, knowing all, believe that you could live a happy life with me, I pray that you then would trouble yourself to continue to reprove me when you believe that it is needed. I can only add that in this, I am your servant.

Two offenses of a very different nature, and by no means of equal magnitude, were laid to my charge - one of them by yourself and the other by Mr. Wickham. Though I say to my shame that I am guilty of one of them, I beg of your justice that you would fully consider the whole of the matter that incited my impulse and my later attempts to rectify the matter with Bingley (and believing that I had succeeded), within hours of my trespass, and long before you justly condemned me.

Pardon me, it pains me to offend you, but I must, in order to truthfully relay the whole of the matter to you - your mother, upon appearing at Netherfield embodied the worst of my concerns, for it is one thing for myself to bear the consequences of my happiness, but quite another for me to bring suffering on those for whom I am charged with their care. Since my late honoured father's death, I have always weighed carefully each decision against that which he charged me with - never failing in the care of those dependant upon me - be they family, tenants, servants, or local merchants. I tell you this not to elicit your sympathy but so that you can better understand my mindset and motives. This most particularly weighted on my mind, at the time, as I had most recently almost failed in it in the most grevious of ways, as you will soon see.

Her behaviour was such that I became concerned for how her conduct may affect not only my business interests but my own sister's prospects if I choose to pursue you - I will not insult you further by iterating what you must surely remember, as I myself was witness to your embarrassment. If you will do me the justice of fully reading this letter, before either condemning me or acquitting me, though, in truth, the best I can hope for is your forgiveness, you will then understand why I must so concern myself with her care.

To do so, I must reveal to you that which could ruin her, at which point you will fully understand my contempt for Wickham, a man who was once much like a brother to me. I will not trifle with your understanding, I trust that you well scruple the very real harm that could have come to those that I care for and will not elaborate further on my concerns over my newfound feeling for you, I'll only say that yourself and Miss Bennet have always conducted yourselves so as to avoid any share of the censure. I would endure any embarrassment for you, though I could not justify failing in my duty to them -whatever the cost to myself personally.

I believe I must also tell you, before I proceed with my ill-founded reaction to your mother, that though I cannot condone her behavior (or that of your younger sisters), I have come to understand it - it must, in fact, be a great strain upon her to be led so fully by her fears. I pray, if upon reading the foolish logic with which I reacted, that you believe you may in time forgive me enough to someday return my affection and form a union - that on that day, together we may alleviate her fears and resolve that which drives the worst of her impulses, allowing the proper education for herself and your younger sisters, in order that they may conduct themselves as a credit to our family and not as a detriment to those we both would be responsible for, but perhaps I presume too much -believing there exists but a chance that you may be willing to someday reconcile with me and allow me to earn your approbation.

I must now come to the point and share the words that I have been dreading for fear of injuring both yourself and my cause further - but my character demands my honesty and insists that I share the whole of the truth before surrendering to your judgment, whatever it may be. Immediately after your mother's visit to Netherfield, I became a victim of my own fears, I am ashamed to admit that I began to perceive your words that morning through the filter of your mother's exclamations - only just beginning to understand your power over me - I reacted as a schoolboy would and fled. As I exited the house I overheard your conversation with Miss Bingley. I should have stayed and acquitted myself of her charges, as I would never make yourself (or any other woman) a dishonorable offer (thus robbing them of any future respectability), but instead, like a coward, I fled -seeking only my own solace, ashamed at what my own feelings had been in light of the discovery of your own lack of feeling for me -or so I believed when you insisted you had no designs.

Upon returning to Neitherfeild, finding Bingley and my cousin in the billiards room, my fears poured from my mouth seeking relief for my own misgivings - I now see what I couldn't then, that I wasn't trying to discourage Bingley so much as I was trying to dissuade myself of feeling for a woman who had just confessed (or so I thought) to feeling nothing for me. To persist in my infatuation (as I had not yet recognized my love) - in spite of every objection, the worst of which being unequal affection - was incomprehensible to me. I was determined to dissuade myself and return to a life absent of truly living.

I was humiliated, wounded, and confused as to my own wishes \- aside from not wishing to be taken in, your mother's words still ringing fresh in my ears - and thus spoke from tumultuous feelings, thinking better of what I had done almost immediately, though I know that does not excuse such a reaction. I was shortly thereafter given further reproof by my cousin, who helped me understand the extent of the foolishness of my own actions. I determined to go to Bingley, almost immediately, and I had believed, at the time, to have fully corrected my own doings. I only came later to understand (when I offered you my hand), that some of what had been said earlier took root due to his natural sense of modesty, feeling himself unworthy.

I have learnt to repent my actions and outburst whole-heartedly- not only because it has earned me your disapprobation (which grieves me most bitterly) - but also for the abuse of Bingley's trust, which has led to a stronger dependence on my judgment than on his own. It grieves me deeply that my outburst and immaturity may have unjustly caused his unhappiness had matters been settled differently.

I had not considered that the misgivings that I had caused had not fully been laid to rest until you brought it to my attention- upon that you have my word. I must now beg that you would forgive my impulsive behavior not only in the matter of your sister but also because although I know you to be a woman worthy of a proper courtship I blurted out a proposal, having done nothing to earn your affection. My only excuse is this - to my horror, only having just recognized my feelings for what they were, another man proposed.

Though I had known you to have rejected him, an unfathomable fear gripped me, the likes of which I had never felt before. I mean no slight to your honorable family, madam when I say that the precarious situation that your family is in had prompted both my fear and my later flight. Knowing the hardship that your family would face upon your father reaching his eternal reward, I believed, in fact, that there was a real risk of familial pressure placed upon you. I in no way mean to disparage your father when I say that I had believed it possible, that in order to ease, as such, an untenable situation, like many men, he may become persuaded that the comfort of all his children ought to take president over the happiness of one. Misunderstanding your youngest sister, and believing you to have become engaged, added to the exclamations of your mother, forgive me, I do not wish to embarrass you, I fled - concerned you may be forced into a union that you did not desire with me. Though I wish nothing more than to join my life with yours, I would in no way participate in having it accomplished against your wishes. I could achieve no joy unless you yourself agreed for no reason other than your own inclination.

You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are such that you would never consider joining your life with mine, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence me on this subject forever, you have my assurances that I would never cause you any discomfort that it is in my power to prevent. If your sentiments are yet undetermined, I pray you would allow me to court your good opinion properly while you reside with your aunt and uncle. As I know them to be excellent people, I cannot believe either would ever put undue pressure on us to consent to matrimony regardless of either of our wishes.

We now come to the matter of Mr. Wickham, though it sickens me to think of him, I would never leave you unaware - your desire to protect your sister has my unyielding sympathy - as you'll soon come to understand more fully. I could not in good conscience leave your loved ones vulnerable to his devices. It is entirely to your credit that you were suspicious of his nature and though it pained me at the time, I must credit your wisdom in verifying my character as well. Though I'm not guilty of the things of which he readily accused me, it was in every way admirable that you relied not on friendship to make a determination. Too many young women have lost their respectability for relying on what they wished to believe, never seeking evidence to the contrary, I can only say it is to your credit that you were willing to challenge your own beliefs and come to the truth of the matter. I give you my assurances again, that his habits were never my own - nor shall they be.

To answer your question in regards to his arts, I can only warn you that his charming manors have led to the ruin of more than one young woman- you are in no way being overly cautious to be concerned for your sister. He is well-practiced in the arts of manipulation and flattery -often causing his victims to feel concern and indignation on his part while leading them to trust his goodness due to his professed wish for a life in the church.

To add to the evils I shared with you at the ball, I share with you the worst of his offenses, though the list of those with grievances against him is ever-growing, as he considers not but his own pleasure when choosing his pursuits. The young woman we spoke off while breaking our fast at Netherfield was the victim of one of his conspiracies. Her affectionate and naturally trusting heart retained a strong impression of his kindness to her as a child, that she was persuaded to believe herself in love, and to consent to an elopement. I can only thank God that I arrived in time for her to confess all, allowing me to put a stop to his revenge. It was later found that he had conspired with her companion, even before they were in company to remove her from my immediate notice, increasing the odds of their success at acquiring her dowry. You can imagine the pain and grief that gripped my heart in fear for her- you can imagine the sort of husband such a man would make. It pains me to consider what you must suffer in concern for your own sister, with whom, his designs are surely not matrimony, as grievous as that would be. I will assist you in every way that I am able, regardless of your response to me - I would never see you suffer as such.

I can only add that I am forever yours, and may God bless you.

Fitzwilliam Darcy

He looked down at the letter, determined against his ordinary practice of never sending a first draft, often painstakingly rewriting until every word was exactly as he meant it. In this instance, he wished instead for Elizabeth to have the benefit of his unvarnished words with which to make her decision. If he continued to work on it he feared he would give in to the temptation to edit the words of love and thus risking less humiliation. He also feared that he would further soften his words towards her family, though he had tried to be tactful, he was truthful. He also knew, in some paragraphs, his arrogance was still apparent. Though he was attempting to correct that, the truth was it would not be the work of a moment. Elizabeth deserved to make her decision based solely upon the truth - whether her determination was for or against him.

Feeling himself losing his nerve, concerned all hope would be lost when he called upon her, he quickly folded the letter, determined to remove it from his custody. He addressed a cover sheet to Mr. Gardiner, thanking him for the opportunity to make things right and begging him again for his discretion. His most trusted footman was called and ordered to put the letter only in the hands of Mr. Gardnier.

/

I don't think it's ever been harder to write a chapter, I feel like this one and the one where Elizabeth reads his response are critical to how people feel about the story. I also didn't think it would be truthful to have Darcy anything less than honest, though this letter obviously wouldn't have the same "bitterness of spirit" he was concerned he had written w/ in the original P&P, as he believes he has a chance here. He's learned not to be so judgemental, I think, but he hasn't turned into someone who would tell someone only what they wish to hear. Let me know if it rings true for you, but also makes you hope for a happy ending. It was a bit of a balance, I hope I found it, but let me know if you think there was something that I should cut, or should have included.