Half Moon Street
Dear Charlotte,
I apologize that it has been so long since my last letter. I hope that you are doing well and finding spring pleasant. I am certain that the warmth must be welcome, though perhaps not the mud! Have the flowers beds started to bloom yet?
Please convey my salutations to Mr. Collins and your sister Maria if she is still visiting. I wish that I could have accepted your invitation. I would enjoy being in the countryside of Kent at this glorious time of year!
Not that I mean to complain or to denigrate Town. It is very enjoyable for a visit, and there so many amusements. It is only that I do rather miss my walks. There are several parks, which are very well maintained indeed, but there are no wildernesses, and it is quite unacceptable for a lady to go walking alone – I must have a footman and a maid or companion at all times, and few of my acquaintances share my passion for outdoor exercise.
But I do not repine too much. At least once a week I am able to go out for a brisk stroll and am content.
We are also attending a great many balls and parties and routs and the like. We could be attending three or four parties an evening if we so desired, but none of us want that. The very thought exhausts me!
My dear Charlotte, I know you are too kind a friend to reprove me, which gives me the courage to write that you were entirely correct about Mr. Darcy in suggesting that he is a very respectable man in spite of his insult of my beauty on the day we first met. He has apologized for that, by the way.
Mr. Darcy has visited us often here at Half Moon Street, always in the company of his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and sometimes his sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy. The master of Pemberley is, without a doubt, a very intelligent man, and we have a surprising amount in common. He is clever and an intellectual but also a hard-working and honorable gentleman. There is no doubt that he is a good master of Pemberley.
I also find myself very fond of his sister, Miss Darcy, who is but sixteen years of age. She is utterly delightful, if rather shy. I do not find her at all proud. She considers it a great joy to play upon the pianoforte, which she does beautifully. She is not entirely at ease among company with whom she is not particularly acquainted, but she has warmed to both me and Jane of late.
Quite an entire group of us – myself, Jane, Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy, and their cousins Colonel and Miss Fitzwilliam – all attended a show at Astley's Amphitheater last week. The entertainment there is, I understand, largely intended for a younger audience, but I found it entirely diverting. The skill shown by the acrobats, Charlotte! I can only imagine how they must train for it. And the animals too! It makes me laugh to think of Daisy and Buttercup, our horses on the farm, attempting such feats!
Yes, I am indeed enjoying my visit to London. Certainly I have never enjoyed such popularity before. My face and my person are considered endlessly charming, and my new wealth, of course. We have a limitless stream of visitors through our sitting room, arriving at the very beginning of visiting hours and continuing as late as at all polite. And a few of the gentleman arrive burdened with gifts, some of them quite absurd! Generally it is flowers, but one hopeful gentleman presented Lady Appleby with a small portrait of a tiger done in oils to beautify the house. Given that I am living here, I presume he thought I would enjoy it as well.
I like it best when our visitors are Mr. Darcy and Mr. Darcy's cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. I can be fully confident that the former is not pursuing me for my money, or even pursuing me at all. Our discussions are lively and thoroughly honest. There is no empty flattery there, and it is most refreshing. Colonel Fitzwilliam has openly confessed to seeking a rich wife, but he does not charm me endlessly or adjust his opinions or conversation to my presumed desires, which I greatly appreciate. Indeed, he spends most of his time speaking with Jane.
That is another peculiar thing; for the first time in my life, I am more popular than my elder sister. Jane, who is beautiful, kindly, and in my view quite the most wonderful woman in England, is cast into my shadow because I am rich and she is not.
You asked about offers. Yes, I have had several and have rejected them all. I care for none of the gentlemen in question, and they are all more interested in my money than my person.
You also asked about Mr. Bingley. He left for Scarborough more than two weeks ago and has not yet returned. He escorted Miss Bingley there, and I can only imagine that she is keeping him busy. At least, he said good-bye before departing.
I must prepare for a ball tonight at the Lord Wycliffe's house. God's blessings on you, my dear friend.
Sincerely,
Elizabeth Bennet
Elizabeth glanced over the letter. Deciding that it was well enough, she sanded it, folded it, sealed it, and set it aside to go out with the mail.
Her mind snagged on one section of her missive, namely the words regarding Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.
In the weeks since she had inherited, Mr. Darcy was the only man apart from her Uncle Gardiner who had risen in her estimation. Only a few months ago, she had despised and loathed Mr. Darcy, and now she liked and admired him very much.
He was a good man, though still a trifle stiff. But his obvious love for his sister, and his friendship with Colonel Fitzwilliam, and his devotion to his estate; well, he was a truly excellent man, without a doubt.
She had, moreover, been noting his looks more often of late. That dark hair, which curled a little at its short ends, his aristocratic nose, his firm chin, his…
She blushed, though she was alone, and shook her head. He was, she thought, her friend now, and she could hardly hope for more. Unlike the men who courted and flattered her, he did not need to marry an heiress.
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Author Note: Short chapter today ... but to thank you for your support of my writing, I am posting a 2nd chapter too, so keep reading! :-)