Besotted: Letters Between Lovers

1. Chapter 1

1November, 1812

Darcy House, London

My Dearest Elizabeth,

I had hoped to complete my business in town in a few days and return to you tomorrow, but events have conspired to delay my return. My solicitor has additional documents for me to review, and the jeweler has not completed the order to my satisfaction, so I must wait for the new settings to be completed. There was an issue with the wallpaper we chose for our sitting room and another must be selected—Mrs. Reynolds spent no less than an hour recommending replacements and my eyes are swimming with images of birds and flowers. I hope you are happy with the new choice. I am told it is similar to the previous one you had liked.

When I thought I had gotten a handle on things, my horse threw a shoe and the farrier cannot see to him until tomorrow morning.

Fate has decreed I stay in town for the time being and I have made my peace with it. My only regret is that I shall not see you for another week at least. My aunt has been badgering me to visit with her for some time, so I joined her for tea this afternoon. My cousin Victoria Downing was visiting at the same time—she is Col. Fitzwilliam’s elder sister—and she had a great many questions about you. She is wild to meet you. She is the only daughter amongst four sons and none of her brothers has deigned to marry yet, and her husband has no sisters either. She is hopelessly outnumbered and excited to have another woman in the family.

I invited her to the wedding, of course, and she has promised to attend. Her brother, the colonel, will escort her. While I was there, she asked if I had written to you yet and I told her I had not, for I had intended to only be away for a few days. She proceeded to tell me I was making a grave mistake, and that the letters her husband has sent her, even when they were only apart a few days, have remained treasured mementos.

I felt properly chastised and determined to write as soon as I could. Now I sit by the fire in my chamber, writing by lamplight, wishing I was in Hertfordshire with you. Better yet, if I am wishing, I would wish we were both at Pemberley, and already wed, and we could sit before the fire, bundled under a shared blanket, and talk into the night.

I have never enjoyed conversing as much as I do with you. I wonder if it has always been in me and you are the only person who has unearthed this previously unknown trait, or if it is a new development in my character. Regardless of the reason, I enjoy speaking with you immensely and I miss our conversations. I dearly wish we were not parted, but the thought of you cheers me.

I will close now and beg you to write to me in return so that you might assuage my longing for you.

Yours,

FD

3 November, 1812

Longbourn, Hertfordshire

My Dear Fitzwilliam,

You poor dear man! How dreadful to be trapped in town on your own with no one to keep you company! Might the colonel come and stay with you? I know he will drink all your brandy, but he would at least keep you from feeling lonesome. I hope everything is concluded swiftly and you may hurry back to me.

I am glad you wrote to me; I quite like the idea of having a stack of letters one day to read through and remember times past. And you do write a very fine letter, as you well know. I have read your only other letter to me more times than I can count. I am in a fair way to knowing it by heart. Oh, I know you asked me to burn it, but how could I when it was the only letter I had from you? Once I have amassed a healthy stack of more pleasant missives, we may burn it together. How does that sound?

As much as it pains me to say it, you are lucky you are in town. My mother has dragged me all over Meryton, crowing about our impending marriage, and when she had called on all our close acquaintances, she insisted we call on those we only saw once a year at someone else’s party.

It has been equally exhausting and mortifying. Perhaps I should allow her this triumph; marrying off her two eldest daughters to good men is no small feat and she is rightly proud (you will make a dashing son-in-law—everyone says so). Though I do wish she could be proud without hauling me all over the county. I do not truly need to be present, for I hardly speak at all. As I suspected, she enjoys speaking of the new Mrs. Darcy much more than she ever enjoyed conversing with her daughter Elizabeth.

I am glad your cousin will come for the wedding. Will she stay at Netherfield? I am happy to speak to Mr. Bingley about it on your behalf. Lord knows he is here from breakfast through supper. And I could use some occupation. I normally have a great deal to do in the still room and I have often assisted with the accounts. Jane and I would visit the tenants at least once each month. Now, mama insists I stay close to home to receive callers, she has decided ink will stain my fingers and ruin the wedding, and the still room is not a fitting occupation for the betrothed of such a grand man. (Thank you for that, my dear. You couldn’t be a simple vicar or barrister?) Every time I try to escape, she demands I go somewhere with her. Either to call on more strangers or to buy more fabric.

She has insisted on an obscene amount of lace with so many of my new gowns they will be unwearable until I have it removed. I told her it does not suit me—my figure or my preference—but she does not care. She is determined the new Mrs. Darcy look as fashionable as possible, even if she is wholly ridiculous. If you arrive at Longbourn and see a walking confection, it is only your bride, trying to escape her mother.

You are lucky to be missing all the fervor.

Have you seen the Gardiners? I am certain they would invite you for dinner if you let them know you are still in Town. I hate the thought of you sitting alone every night and pining for me. (I know you enjoy your own company, but surely you do not wish to be alone every night?)

Hurry back to me, my love. I await you with open arms.

Your Elizabeth

P.S. If you need something pleasant to think of as you sit alone in that enormous house, remember the oak tree at the back of Longbourn’s garden. Do you recall how you pressed me against it on our last walk? And how your hands slid beneath my cloak as you kissed me? I remember it quite well. I cannot wait for your return.

5 November, 1812

Darcy House, London

Darling Elizabeth,

You do know how to cheer a man! Would that my business was already concluded so that I might hurry back to you. Things progress apace, but they are not finished yet, thus I am still waiting in town. Hopefully a few more days will do it and I will be with you before the week is out.

I do remember the oak tree and our pleasing encounter beneath it. Though thinking of it now is more pain than pleasure, as I know how sweet it is to hold you, but you are too far away for me to do so. Once we are married, I will insist you travel with me as much as possible. I cannot do without you.

I cannot believe you still have that loathsome letter! I shall have to write you a great many more to replace it. And I wholeheartedly agree with your idea that we burn it together. It can be one of our first acts as a married couple: the destruction of our past mistakes. Though we should think of a more fitting title for the activity.

I called on the Gardiners yesterday and they invited me to dinner. Your cousin Margaret insisted I give you her latest sketch. I am enclosing it here. I think it is supposed to be a vase of flowers, but I am not entirely certain. It might be a lady with a parasol. She clearly put a great effort into it and was very proud to show it to me. I did not have the heart to ask what it was as I gather she thought it was apparent. Mayhap it will be to you.

My cousin Hayes is courting a lady. My aunt is glad he is finally taking the succession of the title seriously, but I cannot think Lady Alice a good choice. Besides the fact that she was doggedly pursuing me only last season, she would not be pleasant to live with. She puts me in mind of Miss Bingley, if that gives you an idea of her nature.

It is not my affair, so I ought to mind my own business, but Hayes is the heir to the Matlock earldom. He will one day wield a great deal of influence. He, more than his brothers, needs to choose wisely. Not to mention that a spendthrift bride would jeopardize the allowances of my other cousins, and I would hate to see any of them in straits.

I received a letter from Georgiana. She is looking forward to her arrival in Hertfordshire. I must think of something to give my cousin as a thank you for escorting her from Pemberley. I have never been close to Jonathon—he is too much younger than me for us to have been playmates as children—but he has always been kind to G. I think he is a gentle soul. They get along well in that regard.

Is there anything you wish me to bring from town? Your mother has sent me a list. I know the two of you do not have the easiest relationship, but I am pleased she is treating me like family. My own family is much more formal. Anyhow, I will be collecting a few packages for her. Do let me know if there is anything you desire me to bring for you. You know it pleases me to make you happy.

I miss you dreadfully. I fear I am becoming one of those poor fools who cannot be away from his wife for more than a day without becoming a milksop. Only, I do not feel like a fool. I feel incredibly lucky. Lucky to have won a worthy lady, lucky to have attained my heart’s desire, lucky to be marrying a woman whom I cannot wait to spend my life with.

I am afraid I will not make it much longer. If my business is not concluded in two days’ time, I will return to you regardless (and we shall revisit that oak tree, irrespective of the weather). It is not worth this discomfort.

With all my love,

FD

7 November, 1812

Longbourn, Hertfordshire

My Darling Almost-Husband,

I am sorry your business has been delayed. If it is any consolation, I miss you just as much as you are missing me. And I have the added frustration of my mother in full wedding-preparation mode, so when you think about it, my situation is actually worse in many ways. At least you have business to occupy you and may do with your time as you like.

I have no idea what your cousin Jonathon would like as a gift, but I am pleased he is bringing G to us for the wedding. She will make a delightful sister. Do you think she minds staying with your cousins for a time? I do not want her to think we don’t want her about, but I am looking forward to having you all to myself.

Looking at Margaret’s sketch, I think it is a man with an umbrella, walking in the rain. At least I think those spots on the paper are rain.

I know not what to write to you to make you feel half as cherished and loved as you make me feel. You know I can fill a letter with newsy tidbits and stories from the neighborhood. (Mrs. Goulding’s favorite goat escaped into the rose garden and she is devastated—Mrs. Goulding, not the goat. Her husband has threatened to make her into a stew. The goat, not Mrs. Goulding.) And you know I will always choose humor over an honest accounting of my feelings. It is likely because I have a silly mother and a father who never fails to point said silliness out. (You see, I am doing it now.)

But because I love you so very much, and because I believe you to be the very best of men, I will try. For you, my love, I shall lay my heart bare, and if I make a terrible hash of it, I shall rely on your aforementioned goodness not to hold it against me. I am sure I could improve with time.

I do not know if I have ever told you this, but I am deeply pleased to be marrying you. So pleased that the only thing that could make me happier is if we were already wed. In the event you already knew that, I will tell you why I am so pleased to be marrying you, which I am less certain of your foreknowledge.

Fitzwilliam, there are not words to describe how very much I value you. To me, you are everything a gentleman ought to be. You are kind and generous and honest and forthright. But more importantly, you are willing to look at yourself and truly assess what you find there. You do not let wounded pride rule your actions and decide the path your life should take. And I am very grateful for it, for if you had, we would not be writing to each other right now, and I would always feel as if a piece of me were missing.

For that is how I feel with you—that we were intended for one another. I have never spoken of such to anyone for I fear it makes me sound dreadfully na?ve, but I cannot help my feelings. You are the perfect man for me. If I were to design a husband to suit my desires, he would be exactly like you. I know enough of your feelings about me to say that you feel something similar. How could such a pairing come about if it were not pre-ordained?

Mr. Bingley just happened to take a house near my own home, and you happened to visit him at the same time a cousin we have never met before visited from Kent. He happened to marry my closest friend, and she happened to invite me to visit her home—next to your aunt’s estate!—at the same time you happened to be visiting. If I had come a few weeks later, I would not have seen you at all—nor would I have received your letter and learned my own folly.

And of course our meeting at Pemberley must have been fated—five minutes in either direction and we would have missed one another entirely. Try if you dare, but you cannot convince me Providence did not have a hand in our meeting one another and being thrown together again so many seemingly coincidental times.

I am so very grateful we have found one another, and I cannot wait to call you Husband. My heart is overflowing with love for you. Hurry back to me, and I will show you how much.

Your loving soon-to-be-wife,

Elizabeth

9 November, 1812

Darcy House, London

My Dearest Love,

I will return tomorrow. My business is concluded enough that I can leave it in another’s hands, but if it were not, I would not care. I cannot be parted from you another day.

Elizabeth, my heart, do you know how pleased your letter made me? I had felt content before, but now I am fair to bursting. To have gained the love of such a worthy woman—one whose worth is far above rubies—makes me the proudest man in England. Proud in the best way—proud of the wife I shall have in only a few days’ time, and proud of the abiding love we share between us.

I, too, believe we were intended for one another. I cannot imagine a more perfect woman existing for me anywhere. The way you smile when you see me fills my heart with joy; the sparkle in your eyes when you tease me enchants me; just holding your hand makes my heart beat faster, and when you kiss me, my god, Elizabeth, I cannot imagine a more perfect sensation.

Actually, I can, but that pleasure must wait a few more days. The candle is burning low and I will leave at first light. I may arrive before this letter, but I could not let your beautiful words to me go unanswered. Know that I love you with all my heart, and that I look forward to our wedding, and more importantly our marriage, with great joy and anticipation.

Adoringly,

FD