Page 42 of Near Pemberley

Several days passed before he finally resolved upon writing.

Even then, the letter cost him more hesitation than he would willingly have acknowledged. More than once, he began and destroyed what he had written. To express concern without presumption, attachment without impropriety, and assistance without appearing to force obligation upon a man barely acquainted with him proved no easy task.

At last, however, he completed it.

He sealed the letter himself before allowing himself time to reconsider.

Then, summoning a servant, he gave orders for it to be dispatched to Longbourn.

When the door closed again behind the servant, Darcy remained for some moments motionless beside the writing table.

He had done little, perhaps.

Yet for the first time since returning from Lambton, he felt he had at least acted rather than merely endured uncertainty.

And if the letter should bring him no answer – if it should be considered intrusive, unwelcome, or unnecessary – he knew he would still not regret having written it.

For Elizabeth Bennet’s distress had become impossible for him to regard with indifference.

The letter ran thus:

Pemberley, Derbyshire

Dear Sir,

I hope you will forgive the liberty I take in addressing you upon a matter in which I fear your family may be experiencing considerable distress.

Mrs. Gardiner’s sudden note, received on the morning appointed for their visit to Pemberley, together with the evident haste of their departure from Lambton, has since occasioned me much uneasiness. Though I am sensible that I possess little claim upon your confidence, I trust you will allow me to express my sincere concern.

I had the honour of becoming acquainted with Miss Elizabeth Bennet during her stay at Netherfield last autumn, then in the spring at Rosings Park, and had lately again enjoyed the society of herself and her relations in Derbyshire. Their abrupt departure, under circumstances plainly distressing, cannot but awaken the strongest apprehension in all who esteem them.

Should there exist any service which my knowledge, influence, or exertion may enable me to render, I beg you will command me without hesitation. I should think myself honoured to be permitted to assist, however imperfectly, in alleviating any difficulty affecting a family for whom I have the highest respect.

I remain, dear sir,

Your obedient servant,

Fitzwilliam Darcy

Chapter XII

The journey back to Longbourn was one of misery, only just relieved by exhaustion.

Initially, there was enough activity to prevent Elizabeth from thinking steadily. The haste of departure, the perpetual changing of horses, her aunt’s anxious attempts at consolation, her uncle’s continual calculations regarding distance and time – all imposed a kind of restless occupation upon the mind. But as the miles lengthened behind them and no new intelligence arrived, thought returned with redoubled force.

And every thought ended in the same place.

Lydia.

Elizabeth could not comprehend that the catastrophe was real. Lydia’s faults had always appeared too ridiculous to be dangerous. Folly, vanity, imprudence, thoughtlessness – these had been expected from her almost daily. Yet there remained a vast difference between foolish flirtation and ruin.

Elizabeth had never truly believed Lydia capable of understanding ruin well enough even to approach it knowingly.

Now she understood, too late, that ignorance itself may become one of the greatest dangers.

Mrs. Gardiner, seeing her niece’s agitation increase rather than lessen during the journey, at last said gently, “You must not accuse yourself so severely, Lizzy. No one could have anticipated such an event.”

Elizabeth turned towards her almost with pain.