Write No Evil （Epistolary） #2
Miss de Bourgh, or Anne as she has asked to be called, is a lovely, albeit very quiet young lady of five and twenty, and I liked her immediately.
As Lady Catherine intimated, she has in fact been sick for most of her life, during much of which she was quite violently ill.
She had a companion until a few months ago.
Mrs Jenkinson is much older and decided it is time to retire and live with one of her daughters.
Her departure was amicable, and I believe Lady Catherine desires that I be not only a companion, but a friend to her daughter.
Anne has never had friends anywhere near her own age, and I am happy to take up the office.
I have no idea why Lady Catherine chose me over another, but the position she offered allows me some true independence, as she is remunerating me very generously.
In a few years, I will have enough to live independently, and I am incredibly happy.
I have known for some time I would ultimately have to leave my father’s house, and this allows me an opportunity that I doubt I would have had otherwise. I intend to make the most of it.
As to your enquiry, Lady Catherine knows exactly what happened at Netherfield, and true to your surmise it took considerable effort to contain her displeasure with her nephew.
I believe her interpretation of events may not precisely match mine.
I suspect she thinks this is just what happens when you associate with persons in trade, and it took me some time to convince her that I know some in trade who are the very best of people, so her assertion is entirely unfounded.
I specifically forbade her from mentioning anything about me to Mr Darcy, and while she did not yield without a struggle, she acquiesced to my wishes on this matter...
for the moment. I always consider any victory over her temporary.
It is difficult to ascertain whether Anne would be helped or hurt by an insistence on going out and moving about more, which would be my first idea as you well know.
Does she not go out because she is sick, and gets sicker because she does not go out?
Or perhaps, is the opposite true, where going out would make her even worse, and protection from the elements is paramount.
We truly have no idea. I discussed this at length with her, and we will try to do a little more activity than she is accustomed to and see what happens.
Of course, every move must be approved by her physician, but he is in accordance with the plan—especially since he does not have any better ideas.
Rosings is a large and profitable estate, I am told, and according to our cousin it must be quite luxurious.
It is all wasted on me however, as luxury mostly amounts to a lot of sharp corners, except for the beds which are exceptionally comfortable.
Lady Catherine does like to manage her estate and environs with a bit of an iron fist, but since she is prosperous and her estate well cared for, I find nothing to criticise.
She does have her fits of aggressive behaviour, but certainly nothing any worse than we were accustomed to at Longbourn.
All in all, sister, much against the odds I find myself in quite a good situation. My company is very much to my liking, both Anne and Lady Catherine, and I believe Anne and I have a very good chance of becoming quite close. I am content.
I look forward to Mary’s company in February, but it is now late and Mr Hopkinson must go to his bed, so I shall close.
Your loving sister,
Lizzy
~~~
15 March 1811
My Dearest Jane,
After three months, I am quite settled and can give a complete report on what we have learned about Anne’s health.
We know almost nothing! It has clearly been too cold for her to spend significant time out of doors, but with the spring weather we can get out to some extent.
It is not enough to have satisfied me when I had my sight, but for the moment we have exercise enough.
When it is too cold, I try to make her move around Rosings more.
She has become quite adept at guiding me with the lightest touch, much as a good horseman would his mount, and it adds greatly to my comfort to walk confidently on her arm.
Sometimes the exercise seems to make Anne feel better, sometimes worse.
Her opinion is that the increase in activity gradually improves her condition, and Mr Hopkinson keeps a careful diary along with her maid to attempt a more scientific view, but we simply do not know.
The physicians are of little help. Mostly what they tell us amounts to long-winded circular reasoning.
If exercise makes her better, then exercise is good.
If the converse, then it is bad. Others have suggested things that are obviously foolish, and we try to ignore them.
Anne was bled quite a lot in her life, and we are convinced it is pointless at best and more likely harmful, so we have at least stopped that practice.
We have also reduced the draughts she is given, as there seems a good chance that half might be poisoning her.
I have asked more than one apothecary to explain precisely what a draught contained and its purpose, and have been mostly unimpressed with the results.
Otherwise, we merely try to ensure she eats and sleeps well, does not get chilled or overly fatigued, and wait the event.
Now on to our BIG EXCITING NEWS. I hope Mr Hopkinson managed to convey the absolute giddy schoolgirl excitement of this announcement. We are simultaneously accomplishing so many things I will not be surprised if we are mentioned in scientific journals or the press.
Firstly, one of the physicians suggested that sea air is sometimes helpful for lung ailments, so Lady Catherine consented to a trip of a month or more to Brighton.
As you know, I have never been to the sea, and I look forward to it with great anticipation.
Anne is now five and twenty, and has control of her own fortune so she can do what she pleases; but mostly she pleases to get along with her mother, and I cannot disagree.
Lady Catherine may seem rather overbearing at times, but she has cared for her child to the best of her ability for many years, and has had to endure the unceasing worry of a child constantly ill and sometimes near death, so she is to be allowed some leeway.
Anne has been at Rosings most of her life, and has been mostly content but becomes restless.
The poor woman finds the idea of a London season frightening and unappealing, but the idea of a holiday in Brighton very much to her liking.
Even if she did wish to go to London, the bad air would probably kill her, so town is impossible for the two of us; and I must say I do not repine the loss.
Secondly, through pure luck we go to Brighton at the very time Mr Darcy is to pay his annual visit to Rosings.
I swear to you I had nothing to do with this, though I do not mind missing him in the least. I am aware I should probably allow the man to apologise and be done with it, but my inclinations do not run in that direction.
It is hard to believe he still worries about what happened in December anyway, so really, it is all for the best. I am no longer spitting mad at either man, nor even terribly hurt, but it would be both awkward and pointless.
Thirdly, Lady Catherine has finally given up on her long-standing dream of having Mr Darcy wed Anne.
She finds the entire idea of marriage, childbirth, and all the other associated risks even more terrifying than a season.
I doubt Anne would have agreed in the end, even if Lady Catherine did manage to convince Mr Darcy, which seems extremely unlikely anyway.
So, there you have it! Who would have thought—your blind sister, off on a big adventure!
What news from Meryton?
Your loving sister,
Elizabeth
~~~
15 June 1811
My Dearest Jane,
I do so wish you could visit us at Brighton, but I will take you at your word that you have no interest in coming here, even if Father would allow it. I must tell you of my journey, as you will find it fascinating.
Once I found the joys of riding outside the carriage on my journey to Rosings at Lady Catherine’s suggestion, or at least the joys of not having my stomach spread about the interior, our coachman Mr Stafford did the maddest thing.
He took a leather strap from a harness and secured me with a belt around my waist to the step at the back of the carriage that normally holds a footman.
He said he would find it inconvenient to discover one of his passengers dead on the roadside, and I must agree the policy seems sensible enough.
I rode the entire distance that way, wrapped in a man’s greatcoat, and it was absolutely thrilling and wonderful in every way.
I could simply release my hands and stand in perfect safety as the wind blew through my hair, the carriage gently rocking to and fro (sometimes not so gently—the strap was an excellent idea).
It was the most diverting thing I have ever done, and I have even a few times asked permission to use the coach just so I could do it again.
The coachmen are not at all busy, and I believe they get as much of a thrill from my excitement as I do and they need to exercise the horses anyway, so everyone is happy with any excuse I can devise.
The seaside itself is quite enchanting. Anne and I have both attempted the infamous “sea bathing” that Mama always wanted to try, and I must say it was great entertainment. Anne and I very much enjoy walking along the beach, where we frequently encounter interesting people or children at play.