This is nearly a year old, and an assignment for my sophomore English class: Write a letter from either Elizabeth or Darcy's point of view about events in the book. I chose for Darcy to write Georgiana about his misadventures with the elusive Miss Bennet. Which means that, just so you know, the movie has no bearing on this. I haven't seen it, and have no plans to.
And, FYI, the passage about the schoolmaster saying this should only take so many words and father saying it should only take so much time… That's a stab at my old English teacher and my own father. Both said those exact words, but I was having too much fun with this and it's really very hard, trying to condense so much of the story… especially when you have to write Victorian-style. (And if you're curious—this is 1,864 words. Triple and over. I'm pretty sure the only reprimand I got was that when he limits me, he does it for a reason, and next time, would I please keep inside the guidelines…still got an A, though.)
Enjoy, though!
My dear sister,
I pray this letter finds you well. I hope you have enjoyed yourself, and just as fervently do I look forward to our reunion.
The ball my friend Bingley threw at Netherfield was rather uneventful, Sister, and I am loathe to dwell upon such frivolity. However, I know you are pleased by such events, and will therefore indulge you.
Mr. Bingley's neighbors, the Bennets, were out in full force, and had even saw fit to grace us with the recent addition of their cousin, a Mr. Collins. This cousin went out of his way to present himself to me; apparently he is a clergyman, and his patroness is none other than my aunt, Lady Catherine.
I wonder if perhaps his intention is to wed one of the Bennet sisters; the eldest, a particular friend of our acquaintance Miss Bingley, has confided to her that their estate will not be bequeathed to them upon the death of Mr. Bennet, but will instead go to his closest male relative—this Mr. Collins. It would be a great kindness to the family, and there is a bonus; it is said that the Bennet sisters are all astoundingly beautiful. It is my personal opinion that only the two eldest live up to this exaggeration, and it is a fact that these same two are the only ones with wit enough to put their beauty to good use.
In particular, the second eldest, a Miss Elizabeth Bennet, is one of the wittier women I have met. A tête-à-tête with her follows nearly all of our meetings. I confess I enjoy these episodes more than I have any right to… You will see what I mean, as you continue reading.
After the end of the ball, Bingley was called away on business. When it became apparent that his business would occupy his time most of the season, the decision was made to accompany him. His brother, Mr. Hurst, has a home there, and it was Caroline Bingley's design for the five of us to stay there.
She confided to me, before our departure, that her other, more private, design was to keep Bingley away from the eldest Bennet girl, a Miss Jane. I confess that I was all too eager to oblige her plea for assistance. From my observations, Miss Jane Bennet appears, at best, disinterested in my friend, and, at worst, starving for his income to assist her family.
I refuse to allow any young lady to further her own interests at the expense of my companion, as you know.
And on a related subject, it seems Father's old favorite has found his way to Hertfordshire. Mr. Wickham greeted me, most audaciously, while in the company of Miss E. Bennet.
But to continue… We had not been in London long, as you well know, when Miss Bingley drew me away to whisper most urgently that she had received a most unsettling call from none other than Miss Jane Bennet! It appears she is staying with her aunt and uncle. I would like to think that Miss Bingley's intention, in separating her brother and friend, is to prevent the same thing I seek to, but I think she has another young lady of much better fortune in mind for her brother. She does agree with me in the idea that an alliance with the Bennet family will do nothing but embarrass a family of prominence.
Am I wrong in assuming that some things are worth embarrassment? I suppose you are surprised at hearing such a question from your brother, and furthermore, you are undoubtedly perplexed as to what could prompt such a musing, but… I assure you, sister, all will be explained before your eyes are closed to this account.
But I once again ask that you disregard my divergence until a few more paragraphs have passed over your sharp eyes, and allow me the pleasure of returning to my chronology.
Miss Bingley has attempted to assure Miss Bennet that our party intends never to return to Netherfield, in hopes of discouraging her. For my part, I chose to focus my efforts into preventing Bingley from discovering her proximity. It is deceptive, this is a fact I am all too aware of, now more than ever. But I do not apologize for it, as I firmly believe it was the best decision I could make, in regard to his interest.
In this manner of hiding Miss Bennet from Bingley and the general occupations of London in winter, March came upon us in the form of a visit from our beloved cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. In addition to the realization that the third month was upon us, he delivered to me a letter from Lady Catherine de Bourgh, requesting our company for a few weeks. Cousin Anne, wrote she, was eager to spend time in my company. If I had written the letter, I would have replaced Anne's name with her own, as it is Lady Catherine's wish that we should marry; not mine and certainly not Anne's.
I ended up spending very little time in my cousin's company, although she sends you her love, and would be most pleased if you should pay her a visit in the near future. You have permission, so you must merely name the date. I do, however, insist that you spend some time at Pemberley beforehand.
But interestingly enough, while devoid of my cousin Anne's company, I found myself in that of Miss Elizabeth Bennet's. How strangely fate works. Mr. Collins ended up marrying instead Miss Charlotte Lucas, a close friend of the Bennet sisters. Mrs. Collins' father, sister and closest confidant, Miss Eliza Bennet, had all come to visit her at Hunsford for the early part of spring. As the Collinses are frequent guests of my aunt, so too were the Lucases and Miss Bennet. My cousin Fitzwilliam has made her acquaintance, and agrees with me when I say she is a rather intelligent young woman.
I believe that it is time for me to make the confession I have alluded to, and that is merely that I have grow increasingly fond of Miss Eliza Bennet. I prefer her beauty to her sister's. I prefer her wit over her sister's quiet manners, as well, but I point out her most glaring fault here: she is indeed very stubborn, and refuses to let go of her first impressions. You may believe me guilty of similar offenses, sister, and I must say you are most correct in many cases. But this is one case where I have overcome my prejudice, and, to you, at least, my pride.
After some time had passed, I made a habit of calling on Miss Bennet, or running into her during her walks. I think there is a bit of an affinity between us. We are of a like mind, and are never in need of conversation when together—indeed, we can go back and forth for the better part of an hour. She appears, also, to have developed a liking for my cousin, and I have no doubt that his opinion of her is similar to mine.
Her stay in Hunsford was six weeks long, and things continued so for the greater part of that elapse.
Notice, I say greater.
The next events I relate to you are somewhat painful, but as you inquired after me so thoughtfully, I feel it would be disrespectful and wrong not to answer you completely.
I had thought I was well shut of Miss Bennet once I embarked towards London, but I was wrong. As I told you previously, I did not approve of Bingley being aligned with the Bennet family. Every member, barring the eldest children, are as silly as the day is long. Their financial situation, also, is detestable, and as far beneath our family as we all are beneath the heavens. It is folly of the greatest magnitude to even consider a daughter of such a family as a potential wife.
And yet, I do.
One day, when my rationality had been exhausted down to last nerve, I visited Miss Bennet. She was as surprised to see me as I was to be there. I must have sounded completely unlike myself, stuttering a few inquiries. Her health, that of her housemates…
I stood soon enough, and I paced about the room, before I admitted, as coherently as I could (which wasn't much, I am sure) my true feelings for her; I love her most fervently.
Of course, being who I am, I completely negated this confession by continuing and reminding her of her financial inferiority to our family. I was certain that she would accept my marriage proposal; she had no choice. The future of her family, upon her father's death, rests solely on the ability of the sisters to marry well. Is there any better family to marry into than ours, Georgiana? Her future would be secure. Not to mention that it is a great honor that I would condescend to even consider it.
However, Miss Bennet does not seem to see things as I do. She refused my proposal, and the ensuing argument… Was not pleasant. Unpleasant things were said on both sides; it became apparent that she does detest me. Wickham, her friend, has told her any number of cruel lies about me.
Once she finished, I took my leave. I retreated to my quarters in Rosings. I refused the company of my cousins, my aunt, all in favor of my own thoughts.
I suppose I kept to this for an hour or so, before my anger dissipated. I began to regain my rationale, and I did what I am doing now: I wrote a letter, addressed to Miss Bennet, in an effort to correct the misconceptions between us. I did not renew my offer, for I knew she would refuse. Instead, I told her everything of my interference with the elder Miss Bennet and Mr. Bingley. And I confessed that perhaps my only regret in that matter was to conceal her presence in London from him. That may have gone too far. But as you, and now Miss Elizabeth Bennet, know, I had the purest intentions.
I also regret to say that, to fully discredit Wickham, I divulged his history with you. I sincerely apologize.
I wrote for the better part of three hours and filled several pages. I remember a schoolmaster telling me to condense, but I do not understand how I am to use this language to my benefit and say all that must be said in a mere five hundred words or so. It is absurd. Similarly, I remember my father telling me that this assignment should only take forty-five minutes. That is ridiculous.
To return to the present subject, I presented my letter to Miss Bennet soon after, and it was soon after that awkward event that my cousin and I returned to Pemberley for a short time. It is in a week or so that I intend to return to London. After that, I intend for us to spend some time at our estate.
Your affectionate brother,
Fitzwilliam Darcy