My dear Fitzwilliam,

You will want to know how we are all getting on in Cumbria. Georgiana is very quiet and your uncle is shocked to see how altered she is, being so thin and pale, but we are all determined to help her out of her grief. Thank goodness it is summer and so she can go out of doors. Maud means to take her out riding this afternoon. It is a fine day and we hope the fresh air will put some colour in her cheeks. Peter has promised her one of Sheba’s puppies, and although she did not appear to pay much attention to him at the time, she later asked me how many puppies there were and so I am sure the sight of them will do her good. We will take care of her and keep her with us until she is restored to her former animation.

We are all so proud of you and the way you are bearing your bereavement. Your father would be very proud of you, too. It gives you some comfort, I hope, to know that your family are all thinking of you.

Your loving aunt,

Adelaide


Mr Darcy to Lady Adelaide Fitzwilliam

Pemberley, Derbyshire, June 4

You will never know what a help your letter has been to me. To know that Georgiana is safely with her cousins and looking forward to choosing a new puppy helps me to bear what has to be borne.

The funeral is now over, thank God. Henry and Philip were with me and were a great support to me, walking one on either side of me as we set out on our melancholy journey behind the coffin.

As we set off down the drive I thought of nothing but my father: the day he set me on my first pony; the day he taught me to fish; the look of pride on his face when I started school; the advice he gave me when I came of age; and the last sad but treasured memory of him taking my hand and giving me his blessing as he died.

As we left the grounds and turned onto the road, I was comforted by the sight which met my eyes, for the road was lined with people, their heads bowed and hats removed, all gathered to pay their last respects. They fell in quietly behind us as we passed, and, as we walked, more and more people joined the procession—all silent, but giving me strength by their presence and by the obvious love they had felt for Papa.

By the time we reached the church, the procession stretched back as far as the eye could see. The church was soon full, and those who could not find room inside waited peacefully outside. I heard their voices murmuring the responses, coming through the open door with quiet feeling. Mr Light gave an inspiring sermon and my father was finally laid to rest with all the dignity of his position, and all the love of his family, and all the regard of his fellow men. And as the earth fell on the coffin, I said good-bye.

We turned away, and as we did so, I felt an unexpected lightening of my gloom. For the first time I felt that I could bear the loss and that I could take my father’s place as the master of Pemberley.

In some way I feel his spirit is still with me. I have his words to guide me, and the letter he left me to sustain me, and I know that I am fortunate to have them, and that I was fortunate to have him as my father.

By the time we returned to Pemberley, Mrs Reynolds had prepared a hot meal for all the mourners. Our neighbours gave me their condolences and remembered the many happy times they had had with my father, whilst the kitchens and stables overflowed with everyone from the neighbouring villages who had followed my father to his last resting place, and who each had a tale to tell of his kindness and generosity.

And now it is over and life must go on. Henry is to return to his regiment but Philip has agreed to stay with me until the end of the month and help me with all the affairs that need to be set in order. And when I have seen to the most pressing business, I will be ready to bring Georgiana back to Pemberley.

Your affectionate nephew,

Fitzwilliam


Lady Adelaide Fitzwilliam to Mr Darcy

Fitzwater Park, Cumbria,

June 20

My dear Fitzwilliam,

We have been thinking of you constantly over the last few weeks and we were all glad to hear you speak so movingly of the funeral, and to learn of your own dignified part in the affair. It is never easy to lose a parent and it is even harder when you are only two and twenty. I am glad Philip is with you. Having lost his own father when he was young, he will be able to help you through this difficult time.

I am sure that Philip will be able to help you with all your matters of business, too, but should you need any further help with your affairs, your uncle has commanded me to say that you may call upon him at any time.

Georgiana’s spirits are much improved and she has lost her sad, pinched look. We took her to Ullswater a few days ago and had a picnic by the lake, which she must have enjoyed, because when Peter gave her a puppy—a beautiful golden bitch—she named it Ullswater. Her reason was that the puppy’s eyes were like liquid, which reminded her of the lake. But Sam the groom set her giggling by saying that it was a very good name, as the puppy was “ullus watering” something! She tried to stifle her giggles, of course, thinking them not very ladylike, especially at such a time, but we were all so happy to see her laughing that we did not mind in the least. She is blossoming in our fresh Cumbrian air, and—thank goodness!—our Cumbrian sunshine. Your uncle was remarking only the other day that Georgiana must have brought it with her, for we have never seen such a summer and our usual rain has been held at bay.

Your cousin Maud is taking Georgiana riding again tomorrow and if the weather continues fine, we are going on another picnic on Saturday.

Your loving aunt,

Adelaide


Mr Darcy to Lady Adelaide Fitzwilliam

Darcy House, London, June 26

Ullswater! How I would love to see Georgiana laughing again; even hearing about it does me good! I must confess, though, that I am concerned about her future; not the next few weeks or even months, but the next few years. I cannot always be at Pemberley and I do not want her to be alone in such a great house. I am thinking of sending her to school, so that she will have constant company and other girls of her own age to mix with. Let me know what you think of the idea; I would value a woman’s opinion. Ullswater would have the run of the estate whilst she was away, with the other Pemberley dogs, and be there to welcome her on every return.

Please thank my uncle for his offer of assistance but I believe we have things well in hand. The only matter that troubled me was the matter of my father’s godson, George Wickham—I dare say you will remember him—because, in my father’s will, he spoke of me giving the living of Kympton to George when the present incumbent dies. This I would willingly do, were it not for the fact that George is not suited to the church. My father saw George’s charm and his ease of manner, because that is what George took care to show him, but George has a darker side and I have had ample opportunity to see it during our time at university together.

I have spoken to the family solicitors about the matter and they have reassured me that my father’s will only requested that George be given the living, rather than stipulating that it should be so. It has set my mind at rest on the subject, particularly since I now think more poorly of George than ever. I invited him to the funeral but I had no reply until this morning, when he claimed my letter had gone astray. Since his own letter was clearly a thinly veiled request for money, I told him that my father had left him the sum of one thousand pounds, and I arranged for the amount to be sent to him at once, but I cannot forgive him for not attending the funeral.

He thinks no more of his own father than he did of mine. Old Mr Wickham has been ill for some time and is not likely to live for more than a few months, and yet George never visits him, even though I have repeatedly asked him to. It will be a sad day for the Darcy family and a sad day for Pemberley when old Mr Wickham dies.

I will join you at Fitzwater Park as soon as I have finished with business in London, and then I must take Georgiana home to Pemberley. I cannot thank you enough for taking care of her, and for restoring her to health and happiness.

Your affectionate nephew,

Fitzwilliam

JULY


Lady Adelaide Fitzwilliam to Mr Darcy

Fitzwater Park, Cumbria, July 3

School is a good idea; I will write to all my friends and find out which they think the best for her. She will not need to go at once, however, and we are hoping you will leave her here with us until the end of August at least. When you have finished with your business affairs, then why not spend a few weeks in Cumbria with us before taking Georgiana back to Pemberley?

You need not worry about her education in the meantime, for we are not neglecting it, I assure you. She is playing the pianoforte every day, she sings and dances with her cousins, she sketches and paints and sews, and when she is not doing any of these things she is training Ullswater, who is eager to please and who follows her everywhere. It is charming to see the two of them together.

Your uncle and cousins send their best wishes, and I am

Your loving aunt,

Adelaide

AUGUST

Mr Darcy to Lady Adelaide Fitzwilliam