Mr. Darcy's Diary

May

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 match 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.’