Dearest Neffew,

Smudgething has ocurd of a most serious nature; blot I am afraid of alarming you, so be assured your uncle and I are find. Please excuse the way I right, which has been described as smudgelar to yours; we both have a tendency to mispell, leave out half our, and blot the rest. Today I am under pressure and am at present tense. The bumblebloth relates to your bacon-brained sister, for smudge has fled to Gretna Green in Sotland with a fiend of yours, a George Wackhim, from nayboring Derbyshire.

Bingley’s heart raced while he paced and thought with distaste, Fiend, indeed! His name, dear aunt, is actually Wickham. Just the same, if he has in any way compromised Caroline, whack him is what I shall surely do! Steps were retraced, and he braced himself as he sat and faced his sister’s disgrace.

Although we were surprised by the actual elopement, the match itself was not holy unexpected. The young blot presented hisself to us at the assembly here in Tutbury the night falling Caroline’s arrival, and your uncle and I remembered his name as being that of one of your Cambridge fiends. His familyarity with you, in addition to your sister’s prays of his home on a fine estate, led us to believe he was off good character and fairly flush in the pockets. Therefore, we smudgesequently aloud Wreakharm to call on Caroline, and Mrs. Teak chaperoned during his visits. We all assumed the growing attachment …

Attached growth, more like, Bingley thought as, with the utmost impatience, he instantly turned the page over and continued to learn how Wickham had wreaked harm and havoc on his family.

… would follow the normal coarse of curtship and engagment. Obviously our conjecture was blot and naïve. The two rascals fled Saturnight about twelve o’ the clock but were not missed till yesterday morning at eight while we ate. Caroline did smudge a few lines informing us of her intention, and your uncle immediately departed in poorsuit.My dear Charles, I wish this may be more intellijibble; blot my head is so bewildered I cannot answer for being coherent. I have just now been advised by express post there is reason to fear cork-brained Caroline and her lecherous lover are not gone to Regretna Green at all; and we are now anxious to be assured a marriage between your smudge and the blot has, in fact, taken place. Unable to locate the rapskillions, your Uncle Bart did discover George Wreckhart is not an astute owner after all, but rather the son of an estate stewart. Imagine our surprise! The Darcy family of Pemburly is certainly well respected in this region and very much smudge. My husband visited and spoke with the senior Mr. Workhim, who has no knowledge of his son’s enloopment. Apparently the young rake was on an important errant for his parent and is expected to return to Pembloty tomorrow. Your uncle is staying at an in inn Lamptown awaiting the arrival of the wretched wastrel and our poor retch of a niece. Whatever the outcome, your sister has now been brought to point non-plus and will have to become riveted to your fiend. If convenient, nefpew, I earnestly beg you to come here as blot as possible. Hopefully it will not be long before Caroline reappears.

Your loving aunt,

Rhea Piers.

Charles Bingley flung the ill-written pages onto his desk, restlessly paced back and forth again, raked both hands through his hair, and exclaimed, “Holy heaven and bloody hell! I have been a friend to that fiend for years, so I know him too well to doubt his intentions. How dare the cad dally with my dear sister! I shall now have to commit Wickhamicide.”

He suddenly remembered Fossett was lurking in the hallway and kept further thoughts to himself. Although he would not put it past Caroline to deliberately engage in an elopement, he had difficulty believing his sister would pass up the opportunity for a fine wedding with an attendant and all its attendant finery. But, perhaps, in her current fragile state, neither her virtue nor her understanding would preserve Caroline from falling an easy prey.

I, who knew what he was, should have warned my relatives of Wickham’s rakish character. But since Tutbury is a three-quarter-hour ride from Pemberley, how could I have known they would even meet? This chiding and chastising myself for being chary is uncharitable. Chivalrous Charlie, old chap, you must take charge for a change, make choices, chart your course, and give chase. My chief concern is the cheerless challenge of keeping Caroline’s chastity in check from chicanery. Once achieved, I can then cherish choking that churlish smirk from the cheeks of my cheating, checkered chum.

“Whew! I am glad to get that off my chest.”

Charles was such a charming, chipper chap, he chafed at not being cherubic. He settled on the chintzy chesterfield in the chilly chamber with the chipped chimneypiece and chatted with his churlish valet, childless housekeeper, and chubby coachman. While chugging tea and chomping on a chewy chunk of cheese, he cheerfully churned out chores to those chosen servants.

Preparations for their master’s departure immediately got underway; the feat was a fait accompli following forty-five minutes of feverish, frenetic frenzy. Fossett, the forbearing foyer footman, finally heard, “Fetch me a few books at once. Quickly, man!” Bingley was Tutbury bound within an hour, literary works in hand. The chosen literature consisted of two volumes on loan to him from Miss de Bourgh; and at the last minute, Bingley thought to have his dear Anne advised of the sudden, but unavoidable, departure.

Once settled as comfortably as possible in his equipage, he looked at the titles and chose The Excursion by Sally Forth instead of Primitive Transport by Orson Carte. But Bingley could not concentrate. His mind was more agreeably engaged as he meditated on the very great pleasure that a pair of strong fists could bestow on the face of a handsome skirt-chasing roué.

Unfortunately, his sudden departure would not make one whit of difference in his sister’s witless affair. By the time Bingley appeared at Mrs. Rhea Piers’ Staffordshire doorstep, Caroline’s fate had already been sealed with a kiss in a Lambton chapel in the neighbouring county of Derbyshire.

Before the journey to Pemberley, a hiatus was needed from all the harried purchasing, planning, packing, and preparing for the triple wedding. George Darcy, Lady Anne, and their three grown children, along with Elizabeth Bennet and Ellis Fleming, traveled in two carriages to Lambeth, on the south bank of the River Thames. The Darcy family possessed season tickets to Vauxhall Gardens, so the entire party was admitted to the pleasure garden without having to pay the admission fee of three-and-sixpence. Their plan was to stroll around the grounds for a while and then watch the fireworks display as soon as darkness fell. However, the evening became increasingly foggy; and because of the weather, it was doubtful the spectacle would take place that night.

Darcy and Elizabeth sauntered along without direction and soon lost the others. There was too much to be thought, felt, and said, for attention to any other objects such as people, statues, or the increasing drizzle. They soon discussed their first meeting; and the gentleman said, “Lady Catherine was of infinite use, inadvertently, of course. Had Mother and Father not been urgently summoned to Kent, my arrival at Pemberley would have been delayed until much later in the day; and I would certainly have missed your visit. Such a scenario is unthinkable to me now.”

Elizabeth added, “Let us not forget we also have Dust Bunny and Pug-Nacious to thankfully acknowledge. Had they not escaped from the music salon at that particular moment, Jane and I would not have encountered Georgiana and Anna. By the time you appeared, we would have already departed. It is certainly a bit unnerving to realize so much rested on such an insignificant incident.”

“I absolutely believe we were destined to be together, Elizabeth; and somehow, somewhere, someday our paths would have eventually crossed.”

She disagreed. “I am not so certain. The Bennet family usually prefers to remain in Hertfordshire; and I cannot conceive any reason for you ever ending up in our neighbourhood, unless to attend one of our infamous Meryton assemblies. If such had been our fate, you would have shown up impeccably dressed and made an entirely different first impression.”

“We have already discussed this on more than one occasion; nevertheless, I am still wretched that I appeared before you in such an ungentlemanly manner. First impressions can be vitally important, and I sincerely regret the one I made was as an asinine barbaric buffoon.”

Elizabeth smiled up at him and said, “I must impress upon you a more impressive impression could not, in any possible way, have been made upon me. I am in no humour at present to give consequence to your intolerable belief your buffoonish, barbaric appearance was not handsome enough to tempt me.” 

His astonishment was obvious; and Darcy looked at her with an expression of mingled incredulity, mortification, and desire. “This revelation is … stimulating. I was certainly very far from expecting my emergence to make so strong an impression. I had not the slightest idea at the time of it being ever felt in such a way and have long been most heartily ashamed of my attire that afternoon.”