Chapter 32
GLAD TIDINGS
Dearest Aunt Wallis,
I can scarcely believe I am writing this, but I have pinched myself until I am black and blue, and I have not woken up yet, so it must be true.
I am engaged! You will think, when I tell you to whom, that I have lost my mind, but you will have to trust that I know what I am about.
Remember that, as my godmother, you are obliged to nurture my happiness, and since he has made me the happiest creature alive, it behoves you to try to love him as much as you possibly can.
His real name will mean nothing to you, for you have never known it, so I shall begin by telling you that I am soon to be Mrs Starch.
Yes, he is the same Starch who refused to dance with me when we were first introduced, the same Starch who persuaded Jane’s Wet Lettuce to leave, and the same Starch who proposed to me so abominably earlier this year.
But these recollections have now been mentioned for the very last time and are to be entirely forgot.
Henceforth, you are to know him as Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy (and Wet Lettuce as Mr Charles Bingley).
I shall attempt an explanation and hope that I am as convincing in my praise of him as I was in my censure.
For reasons that are no longer of any significance, my aunt and uncle Gardiner and I did not go to the Lakes this summer.
We travelled only as far as Derbyshire. We may blame disappointment for my not writing to you with news of the change at the time, and I have not told you since because Lydia’s misadventure overtook everything.
But here it is. We travelled to Lambton, in Derbyshire, which I later found out was little more than five miles from Mr Darcy’s estate, Pemberley.
(I believe I told you that he owned an estate, but I admit, I may have stinted on the details of its size and eminence.
I ought to tell you, then, that it is one of the largest and oldest estates in the north of England.
When I complained that Charlotte had defended his pride, this was what she meant.
It suited me to omit the fact that he is one of the most illustrious men in the country. I preferred you to hate him.)
My aunt Gardiner wished to visit Pemberley.
I was considerably less keen, as you might imagine, and was in agonies until we learnt from a maid that the family was not at home.
Well, Aunt, we went, the maid was proved wrong, and some of the most mortifying moments of my life ensued.
By the end of it, however, Mr Darcy and I were reacquainted—and by the end of another week, we were a good way to coming to an understanding.
Be not disappointed by this apparently rapid resolution—I have lived up to Lydia’s precedent to some degree and found a goodly number of opponents to my chosen suitor.
Miss Bingley, Lydia, Peacock, Mr Darcy’s housekeeper, even the rock upon which his house is built all threw obstacles in our path, but we have, at last, prevailed!
You will want me to account for how my feelings have undergone such a material change, I suppose.
I never told you the contents of the letter Mr Darcy gave me in Kent, and I shall not now, for it was written in the strictest confidence, but you are aware, I know, that it had already worked to soften my opinion of him.
I was further astonished in Derbyshire by the alteration in his character.
The conceited gentleman who ignored me in Netherfield’s library had been replaced with the gentlest, most generous man I have ever met.
I anticipate that you will warn me it is but a temporary change, but I do not believe that is so.
He has altered in the way he behaves towards me , that is certain, but I think only because he has learnt to comprehend me better—and if that alone is not a reason to love him then I do not know what is—but I do not consider that he is altered in essentials.
Rather, I have come to better comprehend him .
The stateliness that I once derided as aloofness is better described as a deliberate self-containment that allows proper consideration and good sense to reign over imprudence.
The pride I disdained so violently does not arise from a desire to be revered, but rather a sincere regard for everything and everyone connected to his family and estate.
I could go on—I could tell you of all the care he took to demonstrate that he did not resent the past, and all the ways he tried to show he still loved me, after so many months and such a hurtful rejection—but suffice to say that I was as wrong as it is possible for one person to be about another.
I needed only to see him properly; after that, I would have struggled not to love him.
If you are still not convinced, then perhaps knowing that he has bought Peacock a new commission and settled an extra thousand pounds on Lydia to help mitigate the very worst of their marital woes will improve your opinion of him.
This he conspired to do with my uncle Gardiner in secret, lest I mistake his intentions and be made uneasy.
Only once we were engaged did he admit his involvement.
Now tell me you do not think him the very best of men.
My father has given us his consent. You will not be surprised to discover that he made the process as tiresome as possible for his own amusement.
Several untimely recollections of my past sentiments and an unhelpful insinuation as to Mr Darcy’s amiability seemed to gratify him almost as much as the knowledge that my future felicity was secured, but at least he saved his sport for me and did not trouble Mr Darcy with it.
My mother was far more restrained if you can believe it.
She was too shocked to say anything to me when I first told her, and she is too much in awe of her new son to speak to him.
I live in constant dread of the shock wearing off and her finding her voice again.
Jane is delighted for me, but I perceive a growing melancholy in her.
Mr Bingley has been all but forgotten by everyone else, but she still admires him, and my engagement has rather emphasised his more dilatory approach.
I have tried to assure her it is only that Mr Darcy and I benefited from our time together in Derbyshire, but in truth, I cannot fathom Mr Bingley’s purpose in coming to Longbourn so often if it is not to advance his cause.
I hope he makes his mind up soon. Until he does, I am attempting to contain my joy, for it would be cruel to boast of it when Jane’s is undecided.
But since my joy is likely visible from the moon, it is difficult to conceal, and I hope you will not mind that I have boasted of it so shamelessly in this letter.
It goes without saying that I cannot accept your invitation to visit.
I hope, however, that you and Mr Wallis will come to visit us at Pemberley as soon as it can be arranged—though not before you have decided that you approve of Mr Darcy.
I cannot permit you to make him suffer any more than I have already.
On the subject of Pemberley, I have need of your counsel.
Mr Darcy finds himself in want of a new housekeeper and wishes for me, as the new mistress, to appoint one.
I know not where to begin! My grandmother appointed Mrs Hill before my father was married; thus, my mother has no advice on the subject—perhaps a blessing in disguise.
I asked Hill directly; she said I should choose someone with good eyes and a strong back, but where I ought to find such a redoubtable specimen, she did not venture to say.
I have written to both my aunt Gardiner and Charlotte for their suggestions, and now I beg the same of you.
Any information you can provide, from what sort of woman I ought to employ to where I ought to find her would be most gratefully received. My dearest wishes to you and Mr Wallis.
Yours, in the most sublime contentment of spirits,
Dot