Mr. Darcy's Diary

July

I am unsure how to act. If I tell Bingley that Miss Bennet is partial to him, then I may do more harm than good. It is now more than two months since I spoke to Elizabeth on the subject, and it is possible that in that time, Jane has found another young man to love. I have decided that I will not tell him of Miss Bennet’s affections, but I will encourage him to return to Netherfield after his visit to Pemberley. If she has any feelings for him, he will soon discover it.

When Elizabeth berated me for her sister’s unhappiness I thought it a lesser charge than her berating me for Wickham’s misfortunes, but I begin to think it was not so. I now know something of what Jane suffered, having felt the pain of rejection myself. If I have caused her to feel the emptiness I have felt for the last two months then I am truly sorry.

‘How quiet we are now that Mr Bingley and his sisters have gone to visit their cousin,’ said Mrs Annesley as we sat together after dinner this evening.

‘We will be seeing them again before long,’ said Georgiana, as she sat by the window with her needlework.

‘They are coming to Pemberley with us.’

‘I am looking forward to seeing Pemberley,’ said Mrs Annesley. ‘I understand it is a very fine estate.’

By this gentle sentence she persuaded my sister to tell her about it, and I thought how lucky I had been to find her. She has helped Georgiana to grow in confidence, and between us we will steer my sister towards a safe and happy womanhood.

I returned to Pemberley today, as I wanted to give Mrs Reynolds news of my impending visit, and to let her know how many guests I will be bringing. I could have written, but our conversation last night filled me with a longing to see it again.

As I turned in at the lodge and rode through the park I could not help thinking: Here I could have brought Elizabeth. I rode through the wood, following the trail upwards until I reached the top. I reined in my horse and let my eyes rest on Pemberley House, at the far side of the valley. My gaze ran over the house, its mellow stone glowing in the sunlight; on the stream in front of it; and on the wooded ridge behind.

Of all this Elizabeth could have been the mistress. But she had refused my hand. She had not allowed any considerations of position or wealth to sway her, and I honoured her for it. I did not know another woman who would have acted in such a way.

I felt again all the misery and pain of having lost her.

I rode on, descending the hill and crossing the bridge before riding to the door. As I dismounted, and stood before the house, I realized how much I would have valued her as my wife; how the liveliness of her spirits would have softened my own, and her lack of improper pride tempered mine.

I went in. I found the house well cared for, and Mrs Reynolds was pleased to know that I will be visiting with a party of friends in August.

‘It will be good to see Miss Georgiana again, sir.’

‘She is looking forward to being here. She misses Pemberley.’

If Elizabeth had accepted my hand, Georgiana would be living here again, not on her own, but with her family. She and Elizabeth would have been sisters…but I must not torture myself.

I went round the home farm with Johnson, and saw the repairs he had commissioned. He is an asset to the estate, and I am glad to have him.

When I returned to the house, Mrs Reynolds had drawn up a plan of the rooms, allotting to Bingley and his sisters their usual chambers. They will be staying with me on my return. She had also drawn up a selection of menus. I gave them my approval, and spent the evening in discussing with her some changes I would like to see in the east wing, before retiring to bed.

I returned to town, and mean to finish my business before spending the rest of the summer at Pemberley.

I was surprised to see Bingley today, when I was riding in the park.

‘I thought you were visiting your cousin,’ I said to him.

‘I was, but I have come back a week early. You are right about me, you see, I have no constancy.’

I was glad of the opening this offered me.

‘I thought, in one matter, perhaps you had,’ I ventured.

‘Oh?’

He said no more, but I could see where his thoughts were tending.

‘Did I tell you I visited Rosings at Easter?’ I asked. ‘I went to stay with my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.’

‘Yes, I believe I heard something of it,’ said Bingley without interest. ‘I hope Lady Catherine is well?’

‘Yes, thank you. She was in good health and spirits. She had visitors staying with her, a party from Longbourn.’

He changed colour at this.

‘Longbourn? I did not know that. What were they doing in Kent?’ he asked, as we turned into the park.

‘They were visiting the rectory. Perhaps you remember Mr Collins, a heavy young man who was a rector in my aunt’s parish?’

‘No, I cannot think I do.’

‘He was staying at Longbourn before Christmas. He attended the ball at Netherfield, with the Bennets.’

‘Ah, now I remember. There was a rumour he was to marry Elizabeth Bennet.’

‘It was nothing but a rumour. ’ Thank God, I thought.

‘He did find a wife, however, and married Charlotte Lucas.’

‘The charming daughter of Sir William?’ asked Bingley, turning towards me.

‘Yes.’

‘A good match,’ he said, pleased. ‘I know she wanted her own establishment. I am happy for her. Was she in good spirits when you saw her?’

‘Yes. She had reason to be so. Her family were paying her a visit. Her father and sister were staying with her. Sir William stayed only a week, but her sister Maria stayed with her longer. ’ I paused. ‘She had another visitor, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.’

He started, but said only: ‘Yes, I believe they were friends. ’ After a moment he said: ‘Was she well?’

‘She was.’

‘I liked Miss Elizabeth Bennet very much. She was as lively a girl as one could ever wish to meet. And her parents, were they well?’

‘Yes, I believe so.’

‘And her…sisters?’ he asked, studiously ignoring my gaze.

‘They were well, although Miss Bennet I believe was not in spirits.’

‘No?’ he asked, torn between hope and concern.

‘No,’ I said firmly.

‘She missed her sister, perhaps. She was very fond of her, and would not want to be parted from her.’

‘She had been in low spirits before her sister left.’

‘She missed Caroline, then. They saw a great deal of each other when we were all at Netherfield, and were friends.’

‘Perhaps. But it is not usual for a young lady to fall into low spirits because her friend has gone.’

‘No.’

He hesitated, then said: ‘What do you think, Darcy?

Should I give up Netherfield?’

‘Is that what you wish to do?’

‘I am undecided. It is a fine house, and a fine country, and the company was good – though, perhaps, not what you are used to,’ he said with a trace of anxiety.

‘Perhaps not, but there were several people who made the neighbourhood very pleasant.’

‘Indeed. Sir William had been presented at St James’s.’

‘I was not thinking of Sir William.’

Though I was meant to be helping my friend, I could not prevent an image of Elizabeth rising before my eyes.

‘I might perhaps go there for a few weeks towards the end of the summer. What do you say to that idea?’ he asked.

‘I think it an excellent one.’

‘Then I think I will go after my visit to Pemberley.’

I said no more. I do not wish to give him too much hope, lest Jane should have put her hurt aside and become attached to one of the neighbouring young men. But if he returns to the neighbourhood, then a very little time will show them if they are meant to be together, and this time, I will not be so impertinent as to interfere.