Darcy

Dear Miss Bennet,

I apologize for taking the liberty of contacting you in this way. Perhaps, now that you are my intended, society does not frown upon my familiarity. This knowledge fails to assuage my guilty conscience. Yet, I could not justify allowing you to leave Rosings with out attempting to atone for my unpardonable actions towards your person. Nor, could I keep silence in regards to the injustice of my past conduct that you brought to my attention. The truths that I disclose to you bring me much humility and pain. A stronger man may have disclosed the contents of this letter sooner. A more eloquent man may have poured out his confessions in your presence. Fate has forced your hand to form an engagement with neither of these men, though both more worthy of your regard. Despite these considerations, let me assure you Miss Bennet that my accounts are as complete and accurate as my flawed humanity can make them.

First, I would like to assure you that a lack of self control has rarely plagued my conscience before. On the contrary I have always prided myself on my ability to temper my actions through slow and deliberate reason. I apologize, for I permitted our conversation that Sunday and the emotions accompanying it to plunder my reserves of self-discipline and restraint. My mistakes have robbed you of your independence and free will. Most ladies do not appreciate these God given gifts as I know that you, in your wisdom, prize above many others. I have taken them away in my thoughtlessness, but I promise to try to give back as much as I am able. I understand that my offer is not an exciting one; I have commandeered your rightful property. Under the laws of this land, I acknowledge that your sex lacks the rights guaranteed mine. Please know that I will not take advantage of these codes. I seek to grant you as many choices henceforth as I have the power to give. My estates are yours to go to and fro from as you wish, your friends will always be welcome under our roof, and I will consult your opinion in every matter of import. I hold the highest respect for your intelligence and know that your opinions and guidance will always be worthy of consideration. Let me assure you that I will never force my attentions upon your person. You only need keep my company as it gives you satisfaction. I acknowledge that these assurances may provide minimal comfort to you, considering the cause of our engagement. Yet, trust that time will legitimize my assertions.

Next, I wish to address the two offenses that you laid against me in explanation for refusing my hand in marriage. Please know that I am not so arrogant to suppose them the only reasons for your renunciation. These incidents possess different natures and I hope that your justice, open reading this, will allow you to consider the degree of fault on my part disparate as well. The first offense: playing a pivotal role in the separation of a young couple showing signs of affection, the couple in question only acquaintances of a few weeks time. The second: wantonly and willfully casting aside a lifelong friendship and responsibility to a man whose position and relationship with my father should assure his right to my good will and aid by the way of monetary advancement for his career. The second: a much larger accusation, although I do not doubt that the nature of your relationship with your sister ensured that the first caused a much greater deal of pain. I apologize that my actions have brought you such misery.

In the interest of adequately depicting the reasons for my interference between your eldest sister and Mr. Bingley, I am under the necessity of divulging some opinions and feelings that you may find offensive. I loath for you to think less of me than rightfully do at present, but the necessity can not be avoided. You deserve to know the details of my actions and motives and I intend to continue relate them to your person in the future. Perhaps, one day you will grant me the same privilege. I observed not long after my arrival in Hertfordshire that my close friend, Mr. Bingley had developed a preference for your sister. However, it was not until the Netherfield ball that I suspected a serious attachment on his part; I have witnessed a fair share of infatuations over the course of our long friendship. Mr. Bingley's natural open and genuine disposition predisposes him to form attachments quickly. Yet, I observed that his affection for you sister was marked with a steadiness and true admiration that other previous infatuations lacked. On that same evening, Sir William Lucas mentioned in passing that Mr. Bingley's attentions to your sister hand given rise to the general expectation of their marriage. From thence forth I observed your sister in his company. She conversed openly, displaying her cheerful and engaging disposition but I saw no symptoms of peculiar regard. No stolen glances, no blushes, no nervousness, or any of those symptoms that mark a serious attachment. She received his attentions with pleasure to be sure, but I never witnessed her seek out opportunities to gain his company. In short my observations convinced me that she held a sincere though superficial affection for my friend. You most allow that your sister's implacable serenity failed to hint of any great passion. I own that I may have arrived at the wrong conclusion due to your more intimate knowledge of your sister. If I have made this error, please accept my genuine apology.

You may conclude that my desire for Miss Jane Bennet to remain indifferent may have contributed to my failure in observing her regard for my friend. I acknowledge that I did hope her heart was untouched. However, my judgment is usually impartial and unaffected by fears or wishes. Two lesser objections to the match also spurred me to break the connection forming between my friend and your sister. I could have reconciled myself to both if your sister exhibited signs of true devotion. I admire your sister; her character, manner, and disposition are beyond reproach. The first objection arose from the want of familial and social connections your sister could bring to the match. Bingley's circumstances as a relative newcomer among his peers make the union less than desirable. Second, and perhaps more disagreeable was the frequent lack of propriety exhibited by your mother, your three youngest sisters, and occasionally even your father. –Pardon me- It pains me to point out the defects of your nearest relations. Please know that the deportment of the two eldest Miss. Bennets remove them from any share of this censure. Indeed, they conduct themselves as well as any gentlewoman I have formed an acquaintance with.

However, I did not wish for my friend to form an alliance with a woman whose close relations could only be a source of discomfort. I will only add that when all my opinions were confirmed, I advised Mr. Bingley to remove from Netherfield to avoid the unhappy connection. I pointed out the disadvantages of such a choice, describing them in detail and enforcing them with sincerity. My efforts may have been in vain, had I not convinced him of your sister's indifference. He believed her to harbor a sincere, if not equal regard. I added my own observations to his doubts and his natural modesty eventually tweaked his convictions to parallel my own. My actions thus far, bring me no shame. I performed these services with the intentions of saving my friend from needless suffering. If my actions have wounded your sister it was done with out intention or malice. However, I reflect on my efforts to prevent my friend from discovering that your sister was in town with less satisfaction. This concealment was beneath me; yet again it was done in the service of a friend.

With a heavy heart I turn to address the matter of Mr. Wickham. I know not what he particularly accused me of, but I will give a full and detailed account of my dealings with the man. A man reared alongside myself and a favorite of my late father; he is the son of the former estate manager of Pemberley. His father possessed intelligence, honor, dignity, and as steadfast a character as I have ever seen; he had great respect for the late Mr. Darcy and named him the Godfather of his son. An incorrigible boy, he led me into all manners of trouble across the vast estate. I followed willingly and took great pleasure in our adventures for a time, until mild mischief turned into the malicious. Mr. Wickham's endearing roguery of youth transformed into recklessness and depravity. After taking the blame for a few of his charades, I started to separate myself from his influence. We grew apart. The late Mr. Darcy provided the funds for his early education and later at Cambridge. As a member of his peers, I easily observed Mr. Wickham falling deeper into debauchery. I apologize if any of these revelations cause you distress; I know not the degree of your sentiments towards Mr. Wickham. However, I can not allow this to prevent me from exposing the man's past. My father remained ignorant of Mr. Wickham's true character upon his death around five years ago; Mr. Wickham's perfect manners and natural charisma maintained his charade to the last. Many a good man and woman have misjudged his character, for he grew skilled at hiding his indiscretions.

My father intended Mr. Wickham for the church and set aside a valuable family living for him along with a legacy of one thousand pounds. When Mr. Wickham's father died about a half a year after my own, all pretenses were dropped and his character truly began to surface. Soon after the death of his father, Mr. Wickham demanded the price of the living and the remainder of his inheritance in a lump sum. Eager to prevent such a man from entering the orders, I gave Mr. Wickham his advance in the form of three thousand pounds, and hoped to never encounter his person again. In return, he agreed to relinquish all claims to future aid. He expressed an interest in the law and made a good show of repentance. I hoped rather than expected him to use the money to pay for his training in the profession. My optimism was misplaced. I saw little of him in the next three years. Knowing his character, I never sought his company in town or at Pemberley. I suspect that he gambled and squandered his inheritance on any luxury to satisfy his appetites. However, when the incumbent of the living originally designed for his future expired, he applied to me for the position. He professed, and I had no trouble believing, that his circumstances had degenerated quite precipitously. He also implied that if I possessed any sense of justice, I would honor the wishes of my late father in regards to the living. No guilt or shame accompanies my confession to you that I refused to comply with his requests, though he applied to my conscience a multitude of times. I surmise that his disappointment was acute, especially as his desperation heightened. Afterwards, all superficial appearances of friendly acquaintance dissolved and I do not doubt that he harbored very ill feelings towards me. Nor, do I doubt that he took every opportunity to drag my name through the muck of his falsehoods.

I had hoped that finally I had seen the last of Mr. Wickham, but alas, last summer he intruded into my life once more. The circumstances of the intrusion are such that I wish to forget them myself. I comprehend enough of your character that I know I waste ink when I ask you to keep these confessions confined to your person. The delicacy and judgment witch I have witnessed in your speech assures me of your unerring discretion. Lastly, Let me assure you, that very few other circumstances could induce me divulge this information.

After the death of my father, I inherited most of his worldly possessions and gained joint guardianship of my sister Georgiana, along with my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. Ten years my junior, she finished her schooling but a year ago and was entrusted to the care of a Mrs. Young; whom the Colonel and I had interviewed for the position and whom we found most acceptable. She shared in Mr. Wickham's gift for deception, and appeared very credible, kind, and responsible. I entrusted my beloved sister to her care for the summer in Ramsgate. Mr. Wickham, a close acquaintance of Mrs. Young established himself nearby and sought out my sister's company at every opportunity. Mrs. Young encouraged Georgiana to accept his advances and Mr. Wickham sought to use his by no means deficient charms to make himself pleasing to her. Georgiana has an affectionate heart and remembered him fondly from her childhood. Mrs. Young assured her that she need not mention her relationship with Mr. Wickham in her letters because he was an old family friend. Near summer's end she was persuaded that she fell in love with Wickham and he convinced her to elope. Georgiana is to inherit thirty thousand pounds. I suspect that the monetary benefits were only second to his desire to avenge his perceived sufferings at my hands. He could not have chosen a more vulnerable or effective target, his revenge would have been most complete. I happened to make a surprise visit a day or two before the day of their intended elopement. Thankfully, Georgiana could not induce herself to grieve or offend the brother whom she looked up to as a father. She revealed the whole story to me. I immediately removed her from the care of Mrs. Young. My love for my sister and my knowledge of her pure intentions impelled me to do anything with in my power to prevent exposure of the story. I wrote to Mr. Wickham, who left his residence immediately. I can not convey to you in words the depths of Georgiana's despair; she was but fifteen years old.

This is a faithful narrative of the actions and motives concerning the two grievances you laid against me that Sunday afternoon. I hope at least this letter will allow you to acquit me of all injustices toward Mr. Wickham. I do not wonder at his ability to convince you otherwise. Mr. Wickham's charisma and your ignorance of all previous events coupled to make detection of his falsehoods very unlikely. You may appeal to the testimony of Colonel Fitzwilliam to second my account if you wish. At this moment in time you probably hold me in much contempt, but I have seen that you hold my cousin in high esteem. Trust in his words if you do not trust in mine.

Again, perhaps I should have related this to you much sooner. However, your exquisitely stinging proposal refusal inspired great anger at first. This time has allowed my temper to cool and to reflect on the truths contained in your accusations. My failure to live up to the code of a gentleman led me to further examine my actions. In short, I have spent the last few weeks forming an acquaintance with humility. You asked once whether I thought pride was a vice or a virtue. After much contemplation, I begin to wonder if perhaps it is the worst vice of all. God Bless You.

Fitzwilliam Darcy