Page 199 of What Change Entails

“Write to him,” Mrs. Gardiner said when Elizabeth entered the chamber they had shared during the visit and stood there without purpose.

Elizabeth turned.

Her aunt was closing a trunk.

“Write to him, Lizzy.”

“I do not know what to say.”

“That has rarely stopped you.”

Under other circumstances Elizabeth might have smiled.

Now she went to the writing desk.

The first attempt was too formal. She read the first line and hated it.

Sir,

No.

She crumpled the page.

The second began too warmly and then retreated into cowardice before the third sentence.

My dear Mr. Darcy,

I hope you will forgive our abrupt departure. My uncle has received news from London requiring immediate attention, and though we wished to remain until your arrival—

She stopped.

That said nothing.

She threw it aside.

The third accused Miss Bingley too plainly.

That would not do either. She would not make her letter a weapon. She would not have Mr. Darcy ride home, read her words, and be forced first into anger when she wished him to know—

What?

That she loved him?

Her pen hovered.

Mrs. Gardiner moved quietly about the room, giving her privacy by pretending to be absorbed in packing.

Elizabeth drew a fresh sheet toward her.

This time, she did not try to sound unaffected.

My dear Mr. Darcy,

I do not know whether I ought to address you so, yet any lesser form now feels dishonest. If I err, I beg you will forgive me. I write in haste, for my uncle has received an urgent summons to London, and we must leave before you can come back.

I cannot depart Pemberley without honesty.

Once, I misunderstood you so completely that the memory still mortifies me. I believed what I wished to believe. I judged quickly, and I judged wrongly. Since coming here, and especially since yesterday, I have hoped I had learned better. Perhaps you will understand why I still fear my own certainty when it concerns you.