More Letters From Pemberley by Jane Dawkins

Author:Jane Dawkins [Dawkins, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks, Inc.
Published: 2013-08-26T12:00:00+00:00

Grosvenor Street, London

Sunday, 27th April, 1817

Dearest Jane,

I thank you for your long letter, which I will endeavour to deserve by relating the particulars of last evening’s party. As you know, I am no lover of London society and parties (and secretly often still feel out of place) but I must say that ours went off extremely well. Above 80 people were invited, including, of course, my dear Uncle and Aunt Gardiner, and Georgiana and her Husband. There were the usual vexations beforehand, of course, but at last everything was quite right. The rooms were dressed up with flowers &c., and looked very pretty.

The musicians arrived at half past seven and by eight the company began to appear. Including everybody we were almost 100, which was more than we had expected, and quite enough to fill the back drawing room and leave a few to be scattered about in the other. The music was extremely good, and all the performers gave great satisfaction. The house was not clear until after 12, after which we retired immediately to bed. You will also wish to know that I wore the new white gown, made very much like my yellow one, which you always told me sat very well—also the pretty diamond Darcy tiara. My Aunt looked most stylish in dove grey silk overlaid with lace of the same shade, and hair dressed with three ostrich feathers of differing lengths, artfully arranged. Georgiana was simply though fashionably attired in a plain, cream silk, the neckline edged in seed pearls—I dare say we were the three most elegant ladies present!

Georgiana and the Colonel have been here at Grosvenor Street during most of our stay, making London immensely more tolerable than usual. They are both such good company and perfect guests with their quiet ways and manners. While Georgiana looks as well as ever, I did at times notice an almost imperceptible veil of melancholy about her, so contrived that we should spend some private time together that I might either pry out the cause, or satisfy myself that my imaginings hold no cause for alarm. Colonel Fitzwilliam had similarly hinted to me his concern that something was amiss. A morning came when the Gentlemen were from home and the weather confined us indoors. Her protestations that all was perfectly well were so violent that I was convinced I was right, and persisted in my enquiries. At last, she confessed her fear that she is unable to give the Colonel Children. We set aside our blushes and spoke frankly upon the subject. It was my opinion that while they have been married almost two years, that in itself does not prove her fear. She had shrunk from speaking to her Husband, and from consulting the Fitzwilliam physician, hoping that an opportunity might arise for them come to Pemberley, where she could consult Brownley, whom she knows and trusts. Agreeing that, unpleasant as the notion may be, a medical consultation was the only means of putting her fears to rest, we decided to ask the Darcys’ London physician (whom G.

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