The first matter I’d like to clarify is George Wickham.
My father loved George as a son. George even took my father’s last name. When my father died, he left George a generous inheritance that I never disputed. I often thought that he deserved more. My father left George a trust fund to be paid out over the course of the next fifty years. He would never have to work. My father did this because George had stated on numerous occasions that he did not wish to work in the airline business.
About a year after my father’s death, George had the payment changed to a lump sum. I did not fight this, despite it being against my father’s wishes. George proceeded to lose the entirety of his money in two years. He then asked me for more, which I refused.
Upon my refusal, he attempted to steal my sister’s trust fund using a loophole in the language for its disbursement. Luckily, my lawyers were able to prevent this and my sister retained full rights to her inheritance. In doing this though, he betrayed my entire family.
He has since changed his name back to his mother’s maiden name to distance himself from me.
As for your sister, I believed I was doing the right thing. Charles had a previous relationship that nearly destroyed his company when his wife attempted to take over half. Luckily, an infidelity clause spared Charles from losing everything he has worked so hard to build.
I am now very protective of him.
For misjudging your sister, I am most sorry. Your sister did not deserve to be judged based on another’s mistakes.
I hope that this clarifies our conversation from the other day. As I said before, I never meant to hurt you, and for that, I apologize.
Yours,
William Darcy
My hands shook so hard I could barely read the last few sentences of his letter. I looked inside the envelope to see he had included several newspaper articles. One was a picture of Jane at Lux. Everyone else was leaning in, and given the angle of the picture, it looked like she was trying to lean away from Charles.
Without knowing Jane and her dislike of photographs, I could understand how someone might think she didn’t like him. The picture certainly gave that impression.
The next newspaper article was from a few years ago. A picture of Wickham pushing away the camera dominated the page with the headline, “George Darcy Filing For Bankruptcy.” His hair was longer, but it was definitely the man we knew as Wickham.
Everything Mr. Darcy had said was true.
I walked like a zombie out of the elevator and to the door of our apartment. My hands moved the keys, but my mind was on the letter.
What was I going to do?
I couldn’t call and apologize. I’d made too much of a show of telling him how terrible he was. I was so self-righteous in the video. Now I looked like a fool. I couldn’t bring myself to admit publicly just how wrong I had been.
I’d burned the bridge between the two of us and then set off some explosives just to make sure it was impassible. If I were Mr. Darcy, I certainly wouldn’t forgive me.
“Lizzie!” Lydia shouted as I walked in the door. “I got a gig!”
She jumped up and ran over to me, excitement sparkling in her brown eyes. I set my purse down near the door and simply nodded. I wanted to be happy for her, but I just couldn’t seem to make my face show it.
Luckily, Lydia didn’t seem to notice. “It’s just standing in front of another car dealership and looking pretty.”
“That’s great,” I mumbled.
“The only bad part is that I’m not getting paid,” she told me with a shrug. “Well, I mean, I am. It’s just that Wickham is using the money to get me more jobs. I told him that was fine since I’m loaded.”
“That’s nice,” I replied, shuffling toward my room. I just wanted to lay down. I didn’t want to deal with Lydia’s issues today. I just couldn’t. Not after the letter.
“See, Jane?” Lydia stuck her tongue out at Jane in the kitchen. “She doesn’t care. It’s fine.”
“I still say it isn’t, Lydia,” Jane replied. She frowned at me, waiting for me to jump in and agree with her. I was just two steps from my bedroom door, so I didn’t say a word. I just opened it and went inside.
I could hear the two of them yelling at one another as I shut myself in my room. Their words just jumbled and were noise in my head as I sagged against my door and slowly fell to the floor. My hands still gripped the letter and newspaper clippings like they were the only real thing left in the world.
I didn’t know what to do.
A sob escaped me followed by hot tears that I couldn’t explain.