Wish me luck!

Wickham

MARCH

Mr Parker to Mr Wickham

London, March 1

Bath, eh? You’re in luck. You can bump into her easily in the Pump Rooms and it won’t look suspicious. Tell her you’ve got a touch of gout!

It should be easier for you to get her alone there, too. Her mother will have a lot of acquaintances and be gossiping half the time, I don’t doubt; either that or playing the grand lady and entertaining herself by patronising everyone else.

Parker


Mr Wickham to Mr Parker

Bath, March 2

Well, I have made a start. I found Anne at the Pump Room this morning and she was alone, apart from her companion. I took a glass of the waters and then sidled over to her, bumping into her and apologising, and then being concerned in case I had spilt the water on her dress. I affected surprise on recognising her and she blushed very prettily. She was flattered by my attentions, because of course I told her how well she looked—I am sure everyone else must tell her how sickly she looks—whilst the companion glowered at me and tried to hurry Anne away. So then I started talking about old Mr Darcy and mentioned that I was his godson and reminded Anne of all the happy times we had spent together at Pemberley. The companion was mollified and she was soon all smiles, for I bowed and kissed her hand, of course, and looked at her as though she were a beauty when in fact I am sure she must turn milk sour.

All was going well, very well, until Lady Catherine arrived. Anne shrank at once, and the companion looked nervous. I greeted Lady Catherine respectfully and told her that I had seen Darcy lately and that he was well. She raised her eyebrows but I saw that she remembered me and I thought everything was going to be all right, until she looked down her nose and said, ‘Ah, yes, the steward’s son,’ and with that she turned her back on me.

I hid my disappointment, bowed and smirked, and accepted my dismissal gracefully. But I have not given up. If I can only find Anne alone, I am certain I can win her. Let me have but half an hour with her and I will persuade her to leave her drab and dreary life behind and elope with me.

Wickham


Mr Parker to Mr Wickham

London, March 4

Use all your charm. I am sick of the Widow. I want my freedom, and the freedom of Rosings Park.

Parker


Mr Wickham to Mr Parker

Bath, March 5

I renewed my assault this morning, meeting Anne in the library. Her eyes lit up when she saw me and I bowed and kissed her hand. We were soon talking about her favourite books and all was going well until the companion hurried over from the other side of the room, saying that Lady Catherine had instructed them not to be more than ten minutes. I tried to talk to Anne again but it was no good. At the mention of her mother, Anne became anxious, and as the companion was evidently not going to leave her side, I had to withdraw with a good grace.

There is no use in my remaining: Anne and her mother are due to return to Rosings in a few days. But I have not given up. In a few years’ time, Lady Catherine might have passed away and then I can try again.

In the meantime, I am returning to London. Meet me in The Black Bull on Saturday at midday and we will drown our sorrows together.

Wickham


Lady Catherine de Bourgh to Mr Darcy

Rosings Park, Kent, March 17

Dear nephew,

I called in at Darcy House on my way back from Bath and I spent the day with Georgiana. Her school has done well with her but it can do nothing more for her. She is old enough now to have an establishment of her own and you should form one for her in London. It is what your mother would have wished.

You will be pleased to hear that Anne’s health is much improved by drinking the waters. I knew it must be so. Mr Feather was quite wrong when he said that Anne’s condition was not the kind to benefit from a visit to Bath, and he has of course been forced to admit that I was right. I have been responsible for many cures by giving out good advice.

Your father’s steward’s son was in Bath. He did not seem to have any employment and I told him that he must apply himself if he wanted to get on in the world. It is amazing to me how many young men these days seem to squander their time and their energies. I told him that the Lymingtons were looking for a steward and I promised to mention his name. He told me he was very grateful for the attention.

Your friend Bingley was at Darcy House with his sisters when I arrived. They were visiting Georgiana and they had taken her riding in the park prior to my arrival. They were all impressed with Georgiana’s equestrienne skills.

Mr Bingley’s eldest sister is newly married to a Mr Hurst. He is a man who evidently suffers from fatigue and I told him that he would find the waters beneficial. Miss Bingley was much struck by the idea and assured me they would go to Bath forthwith.

‘Let it be soon,’ I said, ‘for he will never recover without drinking the waters,’ and she was forced to agree.

Mr Bingley is looking for an estate of his own. I advised him that he should look no further than Surrey. He said that he did not know if he would like the place but I told him he would like it very well: people in trade are always fond of Surrey.

Lady Catherine


Mr Darcy to Lady Adelaide Fitzwilliam

Pemberley, Derbyshire, March 20

I have had a letter from Lady Catherine and she raises a subject close to my thoughts at the moment, saying that she thinks I should set up a separate establishment for Georgiana in London. I have thought of it often recently but I have done nothing about it as I like to have my sister here at Pemberley when she is not at school. It is her home and she is very fond of it. I must also confess that I do not like to think of the place without her. But she is old enough now to leave school, and although it is one thing for her to spend the holidays at Pemberley, it is quite another for her to live here alone, for I cannot always be in Derbyshire.

If she had an establishment in London, she would have plenty of company all year round. There are always aunts, uncles and cousins in town on business or pleasure, and she would also have the parks, the picture galleries and the museums of London to educate and entertain her. I am more often in town than in Derbyshire and she would have my company then, as she would have it every summer when she would join me at Pemberley.

Let me have your thoughts on the matter; you know how much I value your opinion. I do my best for her, but it is at times like these that I realise how little I know about raising a child—or a young lady, I should say, for Georgiana is a child no longer—and I need advice.

Your affectionate nephew,

Fitzwilliam


Miss Anne de Bourgh to Miss Georgiana Darcy

Rosings Park, Kent, March 23

Dearest Georgiana,

How good it was to see you last week. How Ullswater made me laugh! And you are grown so talented. Your watercolour of the Thames was the prettiest thing you have done, and I am not surprised your brother wants to hang it in the drawing room. I wish I could learn to paint but Mama says that I am not well enough and that the lessons would fatigue me. I am sure they would not. However, I take my sketchbook out of doors whenever I can and I think the fresh air does me good, though Mama says it is injurious to my health.

We were sorry to miss your brother but your friends the Bingleys seem pleasant people. Mr Bingley is very handsome, is he not? And so good-humoured. What a change it was to hear someone who was pleased with everyone and everything, saying that London was the finest place in creation, full of the most interesting gentlemen and the prettiest ladies. I liked his sisters less, but you know them better than I do and I must confess they were very elegant—even Mama said they were well dressed for people whose family are in trade.

Have you heard anything of Henry recently? We have not heard anything since Christmas, but as he is your guardian I thought you might have some more recent news.

Affectionately yours,

Anne


Miss Georgiana Darcy to Miss Anne de Bourgh

Darcy House, London, March 29

Dearest Anne,

Ullswater is very funny, is she not? She makes me laugh all the time, although sometimes I should not laugh, I know. She knocked my paint box flying yesterday and I had to scrub the carpet before my governess returned so that Ullswater would not be in trouble. My governess does not like dogs and looks for any excuse to criticise her. I am not allowed to take her with me when I go riding but she begs to come with me every time. I tell her she may not go, but I always relent. It is true she chases rabbits, but the sight of her lolloping along beside me makes up for any inconvenience.

My brother was sorry to miss you, too, and he was sorry not to be able to visit you for Easter, but he says we will see you in the summer. He is back in London now and he is staying with me at Darcy House. He had a letter from Colonel Fitzwilliam yesterday and everything is well, or at least it was when the letter was posted, but it is difficult for letters to get through, you know. There was a lot in the letter about the war and the price of everything, also about military manoeuvres and some of the commanders, and there was a note in it for me. My guardian told me that the weather is good, much warmer than it is here, and the food bearable, and that he has some leave coming to him in the summer so that he will join us at Pemberley. The Bingleys will be coming, too. They are very agreeable people, are they not? Miss Bingley plays duets with me and she and her sister sing with me. They remained in Yorkshire over the winter on account of a sad bereavement but they returned to London recently and they are often here. I am glad of it. Mr Bingley dances with me after dinner sometimes whilst his sister plays the piano. I am preparing myself for the future, you see. I must know how to go on when I come out.