Page 114 of Dear Friend

“Willowbrook, sir.”

Darcy frowned. Who could possibly have written to him there? He had not resided at Willowbrook for months, and the few people who knew he had ever been there knew perfectly well that he was now in London. Richard knew, as did Bingley, and the Hardings had since learnt of it. None of them would have sent a letter to Somerset merely to have it forwarded back to him.

Unless…

Elizabeth was the only other person who knew he had been at Willowbrook.

Darcy’s eyes returned to the letter in the servant’s hand, and his pulse quickened before reason could check the thought. Elizabeth knew he had left Somerset months ago. There could be no sensible reason for her to write to him there.

Surely not.

He held out his hand. “Give it to me.”

The servant placed the letter into his palm, and the moment Darcy saw the writing upon it, his breath caught.

Elizabeth’s hand.

For several seconds he could only stare at his name written beneath it. Richard had told him she had received his letters, but Darcy had expected nothing in return. Certainly not this. Yet Elizabeth had deliberately written to Willowbrook, trusting that somehow the letter would find its way to him.

A startled laugh escaped him.

“Fitzwilliam?” Georgiana lowered her embroidery, concern crossing her face. “Is everything well?”

Darcy glanced towards her before looking again at the letter. “It is from Miss Bennet.”

Georgiana’s face brightened in surprise. “Miss Bennet?”

“Yes.”

“Why did she send it to Somerset?”

Darcy shook his head as a sudden warmth spread through him. “I find myself equally interested in that part.

He looked again at Elizabeth’s hand upon the direction.

Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy,

Willowbrook,

Somerset.

One month of silence had taught him not to expect this, and Richard’s letter had given him too little upon which to build any hope. Elizabeth might merely wish to acknowledge Julia’s return. She might even be writing to make clear that his apology had changed nothing.

The servant quietly withdrew, and Georgiana remained in her chair, watching from across the room without attempting to intrude. Darcy slipped a finger beneath the seal, and despite his best efforts, his hand trembled slightly as he broke it.

Longbourn,

Hertfordshire

16th December 1811

Dear Mr. Darcy,

I confess to some amusement in directing this letter to Willowbrook. My correspondence has demonstrated such remarkable persistence in finding you there when I had no desire that it should do so, that I can only hope it retains the habit now that I actually wish one letter to reach you.

Julia arrived at Longbourn two days ago.

I scarcely know how to describe what it was to see her again. For so many months I had imagined every possible explanation for her silence, most of them unhappy, and I had begun to fear that I might never know what had become of her. To have her walk into our drawing room, to hear her call me Lizzy and to know that she remembered me was a happiness for which I had almost ceased to hope.