A Correspondence Between Two Unmarried Ladies
Marianne Woodhouse to Isabelle St Just
Queen Charlotte Street, London
7th April, 1781
Dear Lady Isabelle
It was lovely to have met you at Mrs. Anderson's house last week. I am sorry your stay in London could not have been longer but I am sure you will find Pemberley very much to your liking. I stayed there the summer before last, and it remains in my memory as the only place in the country I could ever consent to live.
My mother's friends, the Earl and Countess Fitzwilliam, are at Matlock, which is not far from you, and I have written to inform them of your arrival in Derbyshire. The Countess calls regularly on Mrs. Darcy and on her next visit I expect she will bring one or both of her daughters to meet you. Catherine and Anne are both charming girls and I am sure you will make great friends.
If I can be of any help to you while you adjust to English life, I should be most glad to be of service.
Yours, &c.
Marianne Woodhouse.
Isabelle St Just to Marianne Woodhouse
12th April, 1781
Pemberley, Derbyshire
Dear Miss Woodhouse
Thank you very much for your kind wishes. It was a real joy to receive a letter so soon after my arrival here. I am very grateful to Mrs. Darcy for offering me a home here at Pemberley. Her relationship with my mother is very slight and so this action is truly one of a disinterested and affectionate heart.
Pemberley is the most beautiful of places. The house itself is a treasure, every room more elegant than the last and decorated in the loveliest style. Mrs. Darcy showed me a painting of the old house which burned down some thirty years ago, it was very pretty but I imagine not nearly so comfortable as this one. I have not yet walked much outside the garden, but I am to have a maid of my own from the nearby town of Lambton, so I hope she will be able to show me the best walks. Poor Mr. Darcy is seriously ill and Mrs. Darcy does not leave the house. Her companion, Mrs. Ferrars, informs me that, excepting church, she has not walked further than the shrubbery in over six months. Evidence of love, indeed.
I have not had the pleasure of meeting the Countess or either of her daughters, but anticipate it happily. Mrs. Darcy assures me that both your cousins are delightful. Lady Catherine is an excellent horsewoman and Lady Anne a most skilled musician, so it would appear that I will never be at a loss for activity and companionship.
Yours, &c.
Isabelle St Just.
Marianne Woodhouse to Isabelle St Just
17th April, 1781
Queen Charlotte Street, London
Dear Lady Isabelle
If it is not an indelicate question, may I ask what happened to your family?
As you have learnt my family is dear but unquestionably boring; we have no excitement to speak of. It is a great thing for us if a Duchess descends to dinner, or one of our younger sons attains to a Bishopric. Pray, if it does not distress you, tell me of your escape from Paris and how we may best set about helping your dear father and brother.
My sisters wish to be remembered to you. Eleanor has started work on your charming pattern for lace but Cassandra and I are still engaged upon the quilt we started with Mamma last winter. I am glad Cassandra cuts and measures so accurately, for if it were left to me we would have run out of the blue sprig a long time ago, thus ruining the border. If we should ever complete it I swear never to start another quilt as long as I live, all that cutting and piecing is too much for me and I should infinitely prefer something less intricate.
Yours, &c.
Marianne Woodhouse
Isabelle St Just to Marianne Woodhouse
21st April, 1781
Pemberley, Derbyshire
Dear Miss Woodhouse
Thank you, dear friend for your concern and kind words. The story of my father's imprisonment and my flight from Paris is indeed painful, but I will recount it for you.
Here then is my story and when we are old and grey you may repeat it to your grandchildren.
Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a Marquise. She was a Marquise in her own right, owing neither fortune nor title to a husband, having inherited both from her own dear into the delights of Parisian society. It was a glorious year of balls and beaux and everything a young woman could wish for, but it closed in tragedy. Amidst growing intrigue at the Court her poor stepfather was accused of treason and at last he was taken from his home to the Bastille where he languishes to this very day. The rumours and conspiracies multiplied and soon everyone connected with the Marquise's stepfather was implicated in his supposed guilt, even his young son, Henry, was taken from school to a place unknown.
The Marquise remained alone in Paris, she was very frightened, her mother had died some years earlier and she had no-one to turn to. All her friends had rejected her, they did not want to join her stepfather in the Bastille. Finally the soldiers came to her house and demanded her presence in the law-court to answer more charges of treason! She fled out of her house through the kitchens, exchanging her silken gowns for the coarse garments of a serving girl, but it was to no avail for her complexion betrayed her as a lady and she fell into the hands of another officer and a crowd of rough men on handsome horses who were waiting at the back of her house. Within moments she was drugged and taken to a vile house where she was thrown into a stinking room and left alone, not knowing whether she would live or die and thinking of nothing but the fate of her poor father and little brother.
At length the same officer who had captured her came to the room and said if she consented to marry him, he would see her safely out of Paris and all the way to the coast. The Marquise was furious; she told him to burn in hell for all eternity (having been educated by nuns she knew of such things). He retorted that she had a clear choice, marry him or marry Madame Guillotine. Her answer was firm, she said that although it might be traditional to thank him for the honour involved in offering his hand, that she was unable to render such gratitude and that she would rather die with her friends than live with her enemies.
Such was the bravery of our Marquise but it was a poor, pitiful sort of bravery, for alone in her filthy chamber she prayed for nothing more than to be rescued. When she had been there one full day, and night was falling outside, her tormentor returned to her once more and repeated his foul demands. She remained adamant. Then, as if all her prayers had been answered, he stepped backwards into the shadow and speaking in a clear English accent told her that he had papers that would enable himself and a 'wife' to leave Paris and reach the coast in safety. With what alacrity the Marquise obliged! She rubbed soot in her hair and dyed her skin with walnut juice and they set off for Calais. They journeyed through the night, and although he spoke to her a little, she never saw his face, for just as day broke and she began to feel that she might see the features of the man who had rescued her from a certain trip to the guillotine, their conveyance stopped at a poor inn where she was given into the custody of another man who took her the remainder of the way to the port and saw her aboard ship for England.
It is a dramatic tale, is it not? It is all true. I owe my life to one man who had the gall to snatch me from beneath the noses of the King's officers, and I have not a clue as to his identity; he is English, brave and well-born and that is all I know.
Your friend, Mr. Anderson, met me at Dover and took me to his house in London where we met, and within a very few days my mother's old acquaintance Mrs. Darcy had offered me a refuge with her at Pemberley, but of that you know all the details.
Yours, &c.
Isabelle St Just
Marianne Woodhouse to Isabelle St Just
30th of April, 1781
Queen Charlotte Street, London
My dear, dear Lady Isabelle...
How can I express my horror at your experience? I am so sorry, I thought of romance and adventure but not of fear or pain or loneliness. I am a selfish creature wholly given over to alleviating my boredom. Your Englishman certainly sounds romantic though! How I wish I could give you some intelligence but I must confess to be as baffled as you are yourself. I have gone through my entire acquaintance, every young man of rank and consequence in the land has passed through my imagination today and I can find none so brave, none so dashing as you describe.
I long to show you London this Winter and to show you to London. My aunt cordially invites you to stay with us and she is sure Mrs Darcy will not mind as it is unlikely she will be in Town herself this year. I daresay her father's illness will prevent Miss Darcy from coming out this Season although she is well old enough; my aunt unkindly says that there is little point in her coming out and the family might save themselves a good deal of bother by taking her straight from the school to the church because they have already decided that she will marry Sir Stephen Gervaise, Bart., Poor Elizabeth, indeed! I am thoroughly grateful that my mother made no such plans for me.
I am sure you will like Miss Darcy when you meet her. She is a quiet little thing with dark curls and a remarkably good musician; she is a great favourite with Lady Anne, I believe.
Yours, &c.
Marianne Woodhouse
Isabelle St Just to Marianne Woodhouse
3rd of May, 1781
Pemberley, Derbyshire
Dear Miss Woodhouse
I met both Lady Catherine and Lady Anne today; you were right in your assessment of them as amiable young women. I think I prefer Anne to Kate, she is far less daunting on first acquaintance at least.
We were invited to a ball at Matlock to celebrate the return of Mr George Darcy and Lord Charles Fitzwilliam from their travels in Germany. Mrs Darcy did not attend, I am afraid her husband's illness grows more severe every day and it would seem that Mr George Darcy will inherit sooner rather than later. Their younger son, Mr Edmund, although much talked of and hoped for, did not appear. Never mind, I can give you excellent intelligence on George Darcy. Yes, he is as handsome as his reputation; he is tall with dark hair and a good complexion and the only fault I can find with him is that he seems to be a little too pleased with himself. However, he has a great deal to be pleased with and I shall do my best to overlook his lapse into vanity.
I had much time to observe the relationships between the people here and while I do not think Lord Fitzwilliam to be attached to any young woman in particular I am quite convinced that our handsome Mr Darcy is very taken with Kate. Of course, both Kate and Anne are in love with him but I imagine he prefers Kate. They danced half the night together much to everyone's glee and the remaining dances were shared out dutifully among the foremost ladies of the neighbourhood. I was complimented twice, Lady Anne three times, and everyonelse counted themselves fortunate to have him at all. I daresay the Master of Pemberley is a great catch even without a title. Indeed, my dear Miss Woodhouse, were my heart not already taken I might be in love with Mr Darcy myself.
I am shocked to hear of Mrs Darcy's plan to marry her daughter to Sir Stephen. Are you sure it is true? She does not seem at all that kind of woman to me but perhaps there is an attachment already between Miss Darcy and Sir Stephen? No, of course there cannot be, she is not out. May I expect her at Pemberley this summer or are they keeping her away while her poor father is so ill?
Yours, &c.
Isabelle St Just
Marianne Woodhouse to Isabelle St Just
8th of May, 1781
Queen Charlotte Street, London
Dear Lady Isabelle
It is perhaps as well for the ladies of Derbyshire that your heart is engaged as I am sure they and their mammas believe most adamantly that Mr Darcy is destined for one of them. I am intrigued by your description of the Ladies' Fitzwilliam - pray, how is 'Lady Kate' daunting?
Miss Darcy is to be escorted from school to Pemberley by her brother, Mr Edmund. However, he cannot be induced to leave Bath at present and so Miss Darcy languishes at the home of her friends, Colonel and Mrs Dunbar. Mrs Dunbar is an old schoolfellow of mine. She was prevailed upon to marry the Colonel who is remarkably wealthy by her father who was in somewhat straitened circumstances. He is now wealthy again and her younger sisters are out and taking their pick of men while poor Imogen pays the price. It will be a real pleasure for her to have Elizabeth to stay for I am sure the Colonel does not give her much to laugh about.
We drank tea with them last Tuesday. Colonel Dunbar, thankfully, was at his Club but his cousin Captain Lockwood was present and made himself most agreeable. I think he took quite a liking to Cassandra but I am not utterly convinced that he will not turn out to be like his cousin on closer perusal and am very worried for my dear sister's happiness. Cassandra has such a gentle heart and never thinks badly of anyone; she will be easily taken in and with her fortune it would be well worth ten times the trouble it will take. Elizabeth Darcy is most anxious to be home, she is afraid her father will die before she sees him again. My heart quite went out to her; I wish her rake of a brother would return from Bath soon.
Yours, &c.
Marianne Woodhouse