Elizabeth
Dearest Jane,
I had hoped to spare you from the news of my recent trials, but it seems that gossip has put a brutal end to my efforts. In short, Mr. Darcy and I have finalized our engagement and the papers will publish the banns as soon as they receive the express my fiancé dispatched not long after your letter arrived. The poor man found me standing alone alongside a field, recovering from the shock that your letter brought. In all honesty I can not recall the time or the exact place where he found me; I seemed to have retreated into another world. Your epistle seemed to change everything. I felt that the whole earth had tilted a few degrees sideways, and I had trouble keeping my direction or my footing as I walked. Yet, I had to get away from Rosings, from Mr. Collins, from the oppressive atmosphere that seemed to suffocate my person. Mr. Darcy seemed much concerned over my condition when he came upon me; he asked what had caused my distress. I could not speak for fear that my emotions would overwhelm my senses, and so, I apologize Jane, but I handed him the letter that your dear soul wrote to me in confidence. I could not explain its contents any other way. Forgive my weakness if you can.
How did this all arise, you might ask? Why does the sister you know, who has always sworn to marry for love alone promised herself to a man like Mr. Darcy? I had thought our rather thick headed cousin was an entertaining and rather harmless sort of man, but fate has proven my intuition quite wrong. Mr. Darcy and I were caught in a rainstorm while walking round Rosings Park two weeks ago. We both sought shelter under a large summer pavilion on the grounds and a private conversation ensued. Mr. Darcy made a proposal of marriage. I felt much surprise at his proclamation and I told him that I could not accept his offer. Then, quite suddenly, in a rush of emotion, Mr. Darcy kissed me, a brief kiss, which he ended quickly, and apologized for. Unbeknownst to us, an indiscreet witness by the name of Mr. Collins took great offense at our momentary breach of decorum. How could such a man alter the fate of two people's lives so deeply?
Lady Catherine, our father, Mr. Darcy, and I made every effort to still the ripples of gossip subject to spread after such an incident. We thought we had succeeded in our efforts, until the arrival of your letter. I pray that you think no less of me, dear sister. Selfishness does not form the basis of my decision. Rather, concern for the reputation of my family and our future. We have not the wealth to overcome the stained reputation that would necessarily accompany even a hint of scandal. I have no fear that Mr. Darcy harbors any barbaric qualities and I hope that in time I can learn to forgive his other faults. Our marriage may not fulfill me, but I hope for courtesy and respect.
After reading your post, and a seeking my counsel, Mr. Darcy immediately took action. He dispatched an express to publish our engagement, and at my request, sent a missive to our dear uncle. He invited all of the Gardiners and yourself to stay at his grand estate, Pemberley. I debated between advising Mr. Darcy to invite the Gardiners or our immediate family. In the interest of haste and delicacy we chose our aunt and uncle. I seek the steady reasoning of our aunt that I know our mother is incapable of supplying. I feel guilty that I deny my mother the pleasure of the visit, my predicament is not a result of her folly. However, there is no doubt that her presence could only heap more stress on an already strenuous situation.
We plan to remove to Pemberley in order to avoid a scene at Rosings. Mr. Darcy has arranged for my departure and travel. I expect that Lady Catherine will be overcome by the shock and grief due to the loss of her nephew whom she has ever hoped to obtain as a son. A small part of your wicked sister dearly desires to stay and watch her emotions swell, and yet then I remember she will aim all her spite at me. She has suffered my presence of late in an effort to maintain an aura of normalcy and stem the flow of gossip. Still, I can feel the force of her dislike of me in her silence and in the way her eyes flash over my person as if she wished me bodily harm. You are most shocked Jane, as I bring my missive to an end. You disapprove of my remarks pertaining to our cousin and Lady Catherine. Disapprove is too strong a word, I leave it to you to deduce a more generous descriptor of your feelings. Know that my frustrations towards these persons have been mounting for days. I have had no one to diffuse my uncharitable thoughts, and so I pour them out here for you to see, in their most undiluted forms. Mr. Collins seeks to shelter his wife from the pollution of my influence, and thus, I am alone. I trust to your unfathomable kindness that you will not think less of your Elizabeth. I shall meet you in London very soon and plan to travel to Derbyshire from there, barring any refusal on the part of my aunt and uncle. I rest my tired hand for a moment now, but I plan to write father to inform him of recent developments as well. I ache to see your dear face again Jane.
Love Always,
Elizabeth