Darcy's Diary (14 page)

As I led her out on to the floor, I found my thoughts straying to the Netherfield ball, but I quickly controlled them and made myself think of Miss Farnham.

‘Have you been in town long?' I asked her.

‘No, not very long,' she said.

At least, I believe that is what she said. She has a habit of whispering which makes it difficult to hear her.

‘Are you enjoying your stay?'

‘Yes, I thank you.'

She relapsed into silence.

‘Have you been doing anything of interest?' I asked.

‘No, not really,' she said.

‘You have been to the theatre, perhaps?'

‘Yes.'

She said nothing more.

‘What play did you see?' I coaxed her.

‘I cannot recall.'

‘You have been to one of the museums, perhaps?' I asked, thinking the change of subject might stimulate her.

‘I do not know. Is the museum the large building with the columns outside? If so, I have been there. I did not like it. It was very cold and draughty.'

‘Perhaps you prefer reading books to visiting museums?' I asked her.

‘Not especially,' she whispered. ‘Books are very difficult, are they not? They have so many words in them.'

‘It is one of their undeniable failings.'

Elizabeth would have smiled at this, but there was no humour in Miss Farnham's voice when she whispered: ‘That is exactly what I think.'

We lapsed into silence, but realizing that my thoughts were beginning to turn to Elizabeth, I determined to persevere.

‘Perhaps you like to sketch?' I asked her.

‘Not especially,' she said.

‘Is there anything you like to do?' I asked, hearing a note of exasperation in my voice.

She looked up at me with more animation.

‘Oh, yes, indeed there is. I like playing with my kittens. I have three of them, Spot, Patch and Stripe. Spot has a black spot, but otherwise he is entirely white. Patch has a white patch on his back, and Stripe—'

‘Allow me to guess. He has a stripe?'

‘Why, have you seen him?' she asked in amazement.

‘No.'

‘You must have done, else how could you know?' she said, round-eyed. ‘I think my aunt must have showed him to you when I was out.'

She continued to talk of her kittens until the dance was over.

I did not let my lack of success with my first partner shake my resolve to enjoy myself, and I danced every dance. I came home pleased that I had not thought of Elizabeth above two or three times all evening.

Does she think of me ever? Does she, perhaps, think of my letter? I am satisfied that she believed me when I spoke of Wickham, for she has not asked my cousin about it, but does she understand why I spoke to her as I did when I offered her my hand? She must. She cannot be unaware of her low position in life, and on reflection she has undoubtedly decided that it was not ungentleman-like of me to speak to her in such a manner. She must have realized I was right to do so.

And what of her feelings on the way I dealt with her sister's affections? She sees now, I hope, that I acted for the best. She cannot fail to understand, or to acknowledge that what I did was right.

As for George Wickham, she knows him now for the scoundrel he is. But does she still have feelings for him? Does she still prefer his company to mine? Is she laughing with him at this moment, in her aunt's house? Does she think it better to speak to a man who has all the appearance of gentility, than one who has true worth?

If she should marry him …

I will not think of it. If I do, I will go mad.

I met Bingley at Lady Jessop's ball this evening. He has been in the north, visiting his family, and he has now returned to town.

‘Darcy! I did not expect to find you here.'

‘Nor I you.'

‘How did you enjoy your stay with your aunt?'

‘It was well enough,' I replied. ‘Did you enjoy yourself in the north?'

‘Yes,' he said, but there was a lack of spirit in his voice.

Have I done wrong in separating him from Miss Bennet? I wonder. He has found no new flirt since her, and though he danced all evening, he never asked any young lady to dance more than once.

My own evening was no more enjoyable. I was claimed by Mrs Pargeter almost as soon as I arrived.

‘Darcy! Where have you been hiding yourself? You must come out to the country to see us. See the stud. Margaret will show it to you. Margaret!' she called.

Margaret joined us. I remembered Caroline Bingley's comment of the year before, that Miss Pargeter spent so much time with horses that she had come to resemble one.

‘Should be thinking of putting yourself out to stud before long, Darcy,' said Mrs Pargeter. ‘Margaret has clean lines. Excellent pedigree. Good breeding-stock.'

Margaret looked at me with interest.

‘Any madness in the family?' she asked me.

‘None that I am aware of.'

‘Any sickness?'

‘My cousin has a weak chest,' I replied.

‘So she has. Anne de Bourgh. Forgotten that,' said her mother. ‘Better keep looking, Margaret.'

It seemed superfluous after that to ask Margaret to dance. I partnered several other young ladies who were amusing enough, but like Bingley, I did not ask anyone twice.

Bingley dined with Georgiana and me this evening. I have abandoned all thoughts of encouraging a match between them. She grows more lovely every day, but I am persuaded their temperaments would not suit. There
are other impediments to the match, too. Bingley was distracted for most of the evening. Can it be that he still has not forgotten Miss Bennet?

What did I say to Elizabeth, regarding her sister? I cannot remember. I struggle to recall the words. Was I arrogant? Rude? Ungentleman-like? No, surely not that. And yet to claim that her sister was not a fit wife for Bingley … I am beginning to think I was wrong. There is nothing against her. She has a goodness of character and sweetness of disposition that matches his own. But her relatives … no, it would not have done. Yet I was prepared to overlook them in my own case. I had admitted as much to Elizabeth. Yes, and she had roundly abused me for it.

I roused myself from my thoughts.

‘Georgiana and I are holding a picnic next month, Bingley,' I said.

‘That sounds very pleasant.'

‘Will you still be in town?'

‘Yes.'

‘Then you must come.'

‘Yes, Mr Bingley, that would be very pleasant,' said my sister shyly.

‘I would be delighted. Caroline and Louisa will be in town then, too, and Mr Hurst.'

I tried to hide my lack of enthusiasm, and said: ‘You must bring them with you.'

We had good weather for our picnic. We went into the country, and ate beneath the spreading branches of an ancient oak.

Georgiana was very shy to begin with, but she welcomed her guests with civility and with growing ease. After lunch, I was pleased to see Caroline go over and talk to Georgiana, my sister being at that moment alone. I went over to them and congratulated Georgiana on her success.

‘I am glad I have pleased you,' she said.

‘I was telling Georgiana how well she looks,' said Caroline. ‘You, too, look well, Mr Darcy. The warmer weather agrees with you.'

For some reason her compliments irk me. I said only: ‘It agrees with us all.'

‘Georgiana has been telling me that you visited Rosings at Easter. Miss Eliza Bennet was one of the party, I hear.'

‘Yes, she was.'

‘And how were her fine eyes?' asked Caroline.

‘They were as bright as always.'

She smiled, but the reply did not seem to please her.

‘I understood there was some little unpleasantness towards the end of her stay.'

She can have heard nothing from Georgiana, but I wondered if Colonel Fitzwilliam had said anything indiscreet. I did not satisfy her curiosity.

‘No. None at all.'

After a moment she began again.

‘I passed through Longbourn recently.'

I said nothing, but my interest was caught.

‘That is why I thought there had been some little unpleasantness,' she said.

Ah. So it was not my cousin. I thought it would not have been.

‘I partook of lunch at the inn, and the servants were gossiping, as servants will. Mr Collins had written to Mr and Mrs Bennet. He had told them of his surprise at seeing you at Rosings, and his letter said something about Miss Eliza Bennet being taken ill.'

‘He cannot have been surprised at my visit. I often visit Rosings. As for Miss Elizabeth Bennet's illness, I can recall nothing more than a headache,' I said. ‘Was the doctor called?'

Her smile dropped a little.

‘No, I think not.'

‘It cannot have been of any great matter then,' I observed.

She tried again.

‘I hear that George Wickham is engaged—'

I felt myself grow pale at the sound of the name, and paler still at the knowledge that he was engaged. He could not be engaged to Elizabeth. Surely, after all I had told her, she would not accept his hand in marriage? Not after she had refused mine. Unless she had not believed me.

‘… to an heiress,' went on Caroline.

I felt my colour begin to return. If he was engaged to an heiress, then my fear that he was engaged to Elizabeth was unfounded. I felt relief flow through me. But my relief was short-lived.

‘But her family removed her from his vicinity,' said Caroline. ‘I wonder why?'

She waited for me to speak. She knows only that Wickham behaved badly towards me, and was waiting for me to tell her more, but I did not do so. I felt sorry for my sister, who was stirring uncomfortably at my side. To be reminded of Wickham was most unfortunate.

‘Miss Howard has no one to talk to,' I said to Georgiana. ‘I believe you should go and ask her how she does.'

Georgiana retreated gratefully.

‘Such a beautiful girl,' said Caroline, watching her go. ‘And so elegant. She is the same age as Miss Lydia Bennet, and yet how different the two girls are. Lydia is to go to Brighton, I hear,' Caroline added drolly. ‘She is determined to chase the officers, and if they are sent to France she will probably take the first ship.'

I wished she would not talk of the Bennets, but I could not stop her without it seeming particular. I did not like to hear her abusing Miss Lydia Bennet, no matter how justified her censure. To abuse someone else never sounds well.

As I thought it, I felt myself grow uneasy. I had abused Lydia in just such a way, and to her sister. It was small wonder that Elizabeth had not liked to hear it. I had congratulated myself at the time for my honesty, but I began to agree with my cousin, that some things, no matter how truthful, are better left unsaid.

‘Her father no doubt feels the sea air will do the family good,' I remarked.

But Caroline was not to be quelled.

‘Her father does not take her. He does not like to take any trouble where his family are concerned.'

‘He has let her go to Brighton in the care of her mother?' I asked, before I could stop myself.

‘Lydia does not go with her mother. She goes alone, in the company of Colonel and Mrs Forster.'

I could not believe that even Mr Bennet would be so negligent as to let a girl of Lydia's temperament go to a watering-place without her family. She would surely disgrace them, and thereby disgrace Elizabeth. My poor Elizabeth! How I felt for her, and how I railed against the injustice of the situation. Her name would be tarnished by a sister over whom she had no control.

And yet, unjust though it was, had I not tarnished her with the faults of her family, and had I not told her that she was beneath my notice because her sisters behaved badly?

I find it difficult to believe that I was so ungenerous, but I know that such was the case.

What was it she said to me? That I was ungentleman-like? How well the remark was deserved. If I had been going to tell her that I never wished to see her again, then there might have been an excuse for letting her see in what low esteem I held her, but to tell her she was not my equal, to say that I would be lowering myself to connect myself to her, and then to have the audacity to ask for her hand! And to ask for it in such a way, as though I had every expectation of being accepted! I cannot believe that I, who have always prided myself on my fairness and good judgement, could have behaved so badly.

To divert Caroline from any further discussion of the Bennets, I asked her about her brother. She told me of his affairs in the north, and said how pleased they were to be invited to Pemberley again for the summer.

I watched Bingley as we spoke of general matters, interested to see if he singled out any young lady for his attentions. Again, he did not. He spoke to every young lady there, he laughed and was gay, and yet there was something in his manner that was reserved, as though he held some small part of himself back.

‘Does your brother have a flirt in the north?' I asked Caroline.

‘No. No one has taken his fancy.'

‘You do not think he still has feelings for Miss Bennet?'

‘None in the world,' she answered decidedly.

But I think she is wrong. I mean to watch him to make sure, but once I am convinced, I mean to speak to him and tell him that I was wrong about Jane being indifferent to him. I must mend the damage I have done.

I presented Georgiana with a new parasol this morning, and I was pleased to see how much pleasure it gave her. The colour was particularly becoming to her complexion.

As I thought this, I could not help my thoughts going to Elizabeth. Her
complexion was always healthy. She liked the outdoors, and was always walking, which brightened her eyes and made her face glow.

Where is she now? Is she at Longbourn? Does she think of me? Does she despise me, or has she forgiven me?

I am now convinced that Bingley is still in love with Jane Bennet. I have watched him for more than six weeks, and I know that the time is fast approaching when I must tell him what I have done. To take it upon myself to tell him whom he should and should not marry was an act of arrogance, and to employ the art of deceit to carry my way was impertinence of the worst kind.

‘You look pensive, Darcy,' said Colonel Fitzwilliam, coming up beside me. ‘Has Bingley done something to worry you?'

‘No. It is I who have done something to worry him.'

‘Oh?'

‘I think I spoke to you once of a friend I had saved from a disastrous marriage. I am beginning to think I was wrong to interfere.'

‘It seemed to me as though you had done him a service.'

‘And so I thought, at the time, but he has lost his interest in young ladies since then.'

‘The young man was Bingley, was he not?'

I admitted it.

‘He is young. He will find someone else.'

‘I am not so sure. At the time I thought I was acting through kindness, but I see it differently now. It was interference.'

‘Then you are in harmony with Miss Bennet!'

‘Miss Bennet?' I asked.

‘Yes. Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She was of the opinion it was interference as well. Oh, never fear,' he said, as he saw my expression. ‘I gave her no particulars, only that you had saved Bingley from a disastrous match. I did not mention the lady's name, indeed I did not know it. You need not be afraid that she might have known the family.'

I said nothing. Indeed, I was too horrified to speak. So Elizabeth had heard of my meddling, and she had heard of it in a congratulatory fashion, with my cousin, in all innocence, telling her how useful I had been.

It is small wonder she had been so angry with me at the parsonage. I only wonder now that she was not even angrier. I begin to see clearly why she refused me. And to see that, through my own pride, arrogance and folly, I have lost the woman I love.