Mr. Darcy's Diary

August

Bingley and his sisters joined Georgiana and me soon after breakfast and we set out for Pemberley. To begin with, Caroline talked of her visit to her cousin, but then her conversation turned to flattery.

‘What a fine coach you have, Mr Darcy,’ she said, as it rattled through the streets. ‘Charles has nothing like it. I keep telling him he should buy something in this style.’

‘My dear Caroline, if I bought everything you wanted me to buy I would be bankrupt by the end of the year!’ said Bingley.

‘Nonsense. Every gentleman should have his coach, should he not, Mr Darcy?’ she asked.

‘It is certainly useful,’ I admitted.

‘Darcy! I relied on you to take my part! I was sure you would think it an extravagance.’

‘If you mean to travel a great deal, then it is cheaper than hiring a coach.’

‘There you are,’ said Caroline, directing a smile at me.

‘Mr Darcy agrees with me. How companionable it is when two people have but one mind. You should have squabs in just this colour, Charles,’ she said, looking at the seats.

‘I shall make sure they are in a completely different colour,’ he returned, ‘otherwise I will not know which is my coach and which is Darcy’s.’

‘How comfortable it is,’ said Caroline. ‘Is it not, Georgiana?’ she asked, appealing to my sister.

‘Yes, it is,’ said Georgiana.

‘And how well sprung. Charles, you must make sure your coach uses just these springs.’

‘If I do, Darcy’s coach will be sadly uncomfortable without them.’

‘And you must have a writing desk built into the coach.’

‘I dislike writing letters when I am still, and I have no intention of doing it whilst being jolted over every rut and pothole.’

‘But your fellow travellers might like to write. What do you say, Georgiana? Would it not be useful?’

‘Yes,’ my sister ventured.

‘There you are, Charles. Georgiana thinks it would be useful, and not only for writing, I am sure. It would also be useful for sketching. How is your sketching progressing?’ she asked Georgiana.

‘Well, I thank you.’

‘My sister gave me a sketch of Hyde Park only last week,’ I said.

‘And was it prettily done?’ Caroline asked.

‘It was very well done indeed,’ I said with a warm smile.

‘I remember my own schooldays. How I loved to sketch! You must let me see the picture, Georgiana.’

‘I left it in London,’ my sister said.

‘No matter. I will see it the next time we meet.’

We travelled in easy stages and stopped for the night at the Black Bull. It is a respectable hostelry. The food is good and the rooms comfortable. I have told my man to wake me early. I have some letters to write before we travel on.

I cannot believe it. I have seen Elizabeth. I scarce know what I am writing. It was so strange.

We were returning to Pemberley, Bingley, his sisters, Mr Hurst, Georgiana and I, when we stopped for lunch at an inn. The day was hot and the ladies were tired. They did not wish to travel further, and indeed I had told my housekeeper we would not arrive until tomorrow. But I was restless. I decided to go ahead, meaning to see Johnson and put some of the estate business out of the way before my guests arrived.

I rode on to Pemberley. It was a beautiful afternoon, and I enjoyed the ride. I was just leaving the stables and walking round to the front of the house when I stopped short. I wondered if I was hallucinating. The day was hot, and I wondered if I had caught the sun. For there in front of me was a figure I knew well. It was Elizabeth.

She was walking across the lawn to the river, in the company of two people whom I did not know. At that moment she turned to look back. She saw me. I stood rooted to the spot. We were within twenty yards of each other. There was no question of avoiding her, even had I wished it. Our eyes met and I saw her blush. I felt my own countenance grow hot.

At last I recovered myself. I advanced towards the party. She had instinctively turned away, but stopping on my approach, she received my compliments with great embarrassment. I felt for her, and would have made it easier for her if I could.

As I spoke to her I could not help wondering what she was doing there. To be at Pemberley! It seemed so strange, and yet at the same time so right.

‘I hope you are well?’ I asked.

‘Yes, thank you,’ she said, flushing, and unable to meet my gaze.

‘And your family?’

As soon as I said it I saw her flush more deeply, and I felt an answering flush cross my face. I had no right to ask after her family, having abused them so roundly to her face, but she answered me civilly enough.

‘They are well, thank you.’

‘How long ago did you quit Longbourn?’

‘Almost a month.’

‘You have been travelling?’

‘Yes.’

‘You are enjoying it, I hope?’

‘Yes.’

I repeated myself thrice more, asking her if she had enjoyed herself, until I felt it was better if I remain silent, since I could think of nothing sensible to say. After a few moments I recollected myself and took my leave.

To find Elizabeth, here, at Pemberley! And to find her willing to talk to me. She had been embarrassed, but she had not turned away. She had answered every question with more civility than I deserved.

What was she thinking? I wondered. Was she pleased to have met me? Mortified? Indifferent? No, not that last.

She had blushed when I approached. She had been angry, perhaps, but not indifferent.

The thought gave me hope.

I went into the house, but instead of making for the steward’s room I found myself going into the drawing-room.

She had not been at ease, that much was clear, and I had done nothing to help her. I had been so overcome with surprise, and a range of other emotions I dare not put a name to, that I had been incoherent.

A gentleman would have set her at ease. A gentleman would have made her feel at home. A gentleman would have asked to be introduced to her companions. How far below this mark I had fallen! I resolved to mend matters at once.

Going out into the grounds, I enquired of one of the gardeners which way the visitors had gone, and set off after them.

I saw them down by the river. I approached. Never had a walk seemed so long. Would she be pleased to see me? I hoped, at least, she would not be displeased.

I came upon her. She began speaking at once, with something more of ease than previously.

‘Mr Darcy. You have a delightful estate here. The house is charming, and the grounds are very pleasant.’

She seemed about to go on, then coloured. I believe we both thought the same: the house could now be hers, if she had accepted my hand.

To help her over her distress, I said: ‘Will you do me the honour of introducing me to your friends?’

She looked surprised, then smiled. There was a trace of mischief in it, and as soon as I saw it, I realized how much I had missed her.

‘Mr Darcy, may I introduce my aunt and uncle, Mr and Mrs Gardiner,’ she said.

I understood the cause of her mischievous smile at once. These were the very relatives I had railed against, and yet I had been wrong to despise them. They were not the low connections I had been fearing. Indeed, before she had introduced them I had taken them to be people of fashion.

‘We were just returning to the house,’ said Mr Gardiner. ‘The walk has tired my wife.’

‘Allow me to walk back with you.’

We fell into step.

‘You have a fine estate here, Mr Darcy.’

‘Thank you. I believe it to be one of the finest in England – but then I am partial!’

Mr and Mrs Gardiner laughed.

‘Your man has been showing me the trout in the river,’ said Mr Gardiner.

‘Do you enjoy fishing?’

‘Yes, when I have the opportunity.’

‘Then you must fish here as often as you choose.’

‘That is very kind of you, but I have not brought my tackle.’

‘There is plenty here. You must use it when you come. ’ I stopped. ‘That is a good stretch of the river,’ I said, pointing out one of the best stretches for trout.

I saw Elizabeth and her aunt exchange glances, and I could not help but notice Elizabeth’s look of astonishment. Did she think me incapable of being polite?

Perhaps. I had given little evidence of it in Hertfordshire.

I could not help looking at her, though I talked to her uncle. Her face, her eyes, her mouth, all held me. I thought she looked well, and though she seemed embarrassed, I saw no hostility in her expression.

After a little time, Mrs Gardiner took her husband’s arm, and I was left to walk by Elizabeth.

‘I did not know you would be here,’ she began at once. ‘My aunt had a fancy to see Pemberley. She lived in the neighbourhood when she was a girl. But we were told you would not return until tomorrow.’

So she had discovered that, and had only come on the understanding she would not see me. My spirits sank, but rose again as I realized that fate had played into my hands. If I had not decided to tend to my estate business, I would be with Georgiana at the inn, instead of here with Elizabeth.

‘That was my intention, but a matter to be settled with my steward brought me here a few hours before my companions. They will join me early tomorrow, and among them are some who will claim an acquaintance with you – Mr Bingley and his sisters.’

I could not help but think of all that had passed between us on the subject of Bingley, and I guessed her thoughts tended in the same direction. I wondered whether I should say something; give her some indication of my change of sentiment; but I did not know how to begin.

Instead, I said: ‘Will you allow me, or do I ask too much, to introduce my sister to your acquaintance during your stay at Lambton?’

‘I would like that very much.’

There was a warmth in her voice, and in the smile that accompanied it, that greatly relieved my fears.

We walked on in silence, but more easily than before.

The air was not so tense, and there was, if not ease between us, at least no more embarrassment.

We reached the carriage. Her aunt and uncle were some way behind.

‘Will you come into the house? Would you like some refreshment?’

‘No, thank you,’ she said. ‘I must wait for my aunt and uncle.’

I was disappointed, but I did not press her.

I tried to think of something to say. I wanted to tell her how wrong I had been. She, too, looked as though she wished to speak, but what she wanted to say I did not know.

At last she began, but it was only to say: ‘Derbyshire is a beautiful county.’

‘Have you seen much of it?’

‘Yes. We have been to Matlock and Dove Dale.’

‘They are well worth seeing.’

My conversation was inane. Hers was little better.

There was so much that lay unspoken between us, but now was not the time. Perhaps, in a few days, when we came to know each other better again…

Her aunt and uncle drew closer. I invited them in for refreshment, but they declined. I handed the ladies into the carriage and it drove away. I watched it for as long as I could without my regard seeming particular, and then walked slowly into the house.

I had not said any of the things I wanted to say, but the knowledge that I would be seeing Elizabeth again sustained me.

My spirits felt lighter than they had done for a very long time.

I was out of bed very early. I could not sleep. I looked for Georgiana and at last she arrived, with Bingley and his sisters. I greeted them warmly, and then telling Georgiana I wished to show her a new specimen of tree in the grounds I invited her for a walk. She went with me readily. When we were some distance from the house I said:

‘Georgiana, there is someone I would like you to meet.’

She looked at me enquiringly.

‘When I was in Hertfordshire last autumn, I met a young lady by the name of Elizabeth Bennet. I liked her very much.’

Georgiana looked surprised, then pleased.

‘She is visiting Derbyshire, and she is staying at a nearby inn. If you are not too tired, I would like to take you to meet her this morning.’

I knew that it was sudden, but now that I had found Elizabeth again, I could not wait to introduce her to my sister.

‘No, I am not too tired. I would like to meet her.’

We returned to the house. Caroline and Louisa were upstairs, and Georgiana followed them, promising to come down when she had washed the grime of travelling from her hands and face, and when she had changed her gown.

Bingley was in the library.

‘There is someone I think you will like to see, staying nearby,’ I said.

‘Oh?’ He looked up.

‘Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She is travelling with her aunt and uncle. By chance, they visited the house yesterday, just as I arrived. I said I would visit her this morning. I will be taking Georgiana with me, and I thought you might like to come.’

He looked surprised, but said: ‘Of course, Darcy. I would like to see her again. ’ He hesitated, then said:

‘Might it be better if I do not ask after her sister? Or would that seem particular?’

‘I think you should certainly ask after her.’

He smiled, and I was pleased with the turn events had taken.

Georgiana returned to the room. I ordered the curricle to be brought round and we drove to Lambton, with Bingley following on horseback. I hoped Elizabeth would not have gone out. I caught a glimpse of her at the window and was reassured.

I believe I was as nervous as Georgiana when we were admitted. Elizabeth seemed embarrassed, but no sooner had I introduced Georgiana than she regained her composure. Between the two of them there seemed a genuine warmth. Georgiana was shy, and spoke in no more than monosyllables at first, but Elizabeth persevered, asking her questions and gently leading her to speak. Georgiana grew easier in her manner, and before long they were sitting together.

‘You must not forget you promised to fish in my river,’ I said to Mr Gardiner.

He looked surprised, as though he thought I might have changed my mind, but he agreed readily enough.

I could not help my gaze drifting to Elizabeth, and I believe it would have remained there had we not been interrupted by Bingley. Fortunately his sisters had not come downstairs by the time we departed, or we should have been obliged to invite them to go with us.

Elizabeth’s expression softened on seeing him. She did not hold his inconstancy against him, then. I was glad. I had been the cause of it, not he. If not for his natural modesty, he would have pursued his own course instead of listening to me.

‘Your family are well, I hope?’ said he.

‘Yes, quite well, I thank you.’

‘Your mother and father?’

‘They are in good health.’

‘And your sisters?’

‘Yes, they are well.’

‘Good. ’ He paused, as embarrassed as I had been the day before. ‘It is a very long time since I had the pleasure of seeing you. ’ She opened her mouth to reply, but he went on: ‘It is above eight months. We have not met since the twenty-sixth of November, when we were all dancing together at Netherfield.’

How long ago it seemed. And what dramas had unfolded since then.

‘When will you be returning to Longbourn?’ he asked.

‘Soon. In a little less than a week.’

‘You will be pleased to see your sisters again.’

Elizabeth smiled. She could not be ignorant of the cause of all this talk about her sisters.

‘Yes.’

‘And they to see you.’

‘I’m sure they will.’

‘I am thinking of returning to Netherfield myself,’ he said nonchalantly.

‘Oh? I had heard a rumour you meant to quit it.’

‘Not at all. It is quite the pleasantest house I have ever come across.’

‘And yet you have been a long time away.’

‘I had business to attend to,’ he said. ‘But now I am my own master.’

Elizabeth’s eyes met mine, and we smiled. I was sure she knew what Bingley meant when he said, Now I am my own master.

I noticed her aunt glancing from one to the other of us, but I did not disguise my admiration for her niece. Let her know it. I would like to let all the world know. I am in love with Elizabeth Bennet.

I made it my concern to be agreeable. It was not difficult. I simply pretended that I had known the Gardiners all my life. It is remarkable how simple it is to be easy with strangers once one has the knack. And the determination, I could not help admitting. I would not give myself the trouble before. Now, I made an effort to be liked.

We stayed above half an hour. It was a little over-long for a morning visit, perhaps, but I could not tear myself away. At last I noticed Mrs Gardiner glancing at the clock, and knew we must be on our way.

‘I hope you will join us for dinner before you leave the neighbourhood,’ I said, glancing at Georgiana so that she joined me in the invitation.

‘Yes, we would like it very much if you could join us,’ she said shyly.

I looked to Elizabeth, but she looked away. I was not concerned. There was a look of awkwardness, not hostility on her face, but in time I hoped we would come to know each other better, and her awkwardness would fade away.

‘We would be delighted,’ said Mrs Gardiner.

‘Shall we say the day after tomorrow?’

‘The day after tomorrow it is.’

‘I will look forward to it,’ said Elizabeth.

She caught my eye as she said it, and I smiled. I saw an answering smile rise to her own lips, and I was satisfied.

‘I am also looking forward to it,’ said Bingley to Elizabeth. ‘We have a great deal to talk about. I would like to hear about all my Hertfordshire friends.’

We departed, and returned to Pemberley.

Georgiana returned to her room to remove her pelisse and bonnet. I went into the morning room with Bingley, to find Caroline and Louisa there.

‘You have been out?’ asked Caroline.

‘Yes, visiting Miss Bennet,’ said Bingley.

‘Jane Bennet is here?’ asked Caroline in surprise.

‘I should have said, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.’

Even worse, said Caroline’s expression. She quickly schooled it, however.

‘Dear me, what a coincidence that she just happens to be in Derbyshire when you return, Mr Darcy.’

‘Yes. It is fortunate, is it not?’ I asked.

She looked as though she would like to say something satirical, but thought better of it.

‘I would like to see her again. I think I will pay her a call. What do you say, Louisa? Will you come with me?’

‘There is no need,’ said her brother. ‘She is coming here.’

‘Here?’ Caroline sounded horrified.

‘Darcy invited her to dinner.’

‘With her aunt and uncle,’ I added.

‘Not the attorney from Meryton?’ she asked in a droll voice.

‘No, the uncle who lives in Cheapside,’ I replied, removing her sting.

She looked annoyed. ‘And is he very vulgar?’ she asked.

‘He must be. My dear! Cheapside,’ said Louisa with a shudder.

‘He is in fact a gentleman-like man, and his wife is a lady of fashion.’

‘And are we to meet these paragons?’ said Caroline, with a flash in her eyes. ‘How entertaining.’

I listened with complaisance as she ran on in a similar fashion. Nothing she could say could pierce my happiness. I thought only of Elizabeth. She had not repulsed me. She had not spoken to me with disgust and contempt. She had been polite, and agreeable, and there had been that in her manner which led me to hope she was not indifferent to me.

When I think how once I had taken it for granted that she would marry me! That I had not even considered the possibility that she might refuse me. And now, though I felt hope rising inside me, I cautioned myself that my feelings might not be returned.

But I will not think so far ahead. I am to see her the day after tomorrow. It is enough.

Mr Gardiner arrived here early this morning and I took him down to the river, together with some other of my house-guests. He is knowledgeable about fishing, and I provided him with tackle so that he might try his luck at catching something. My other guests had brought their own. I was about to join them when a chance remark of Mr Gardiner’s made me change my mind.

‘It was very civil of your sister to pay us a visit yesterday, Mr Darcy. My wife and niece were much struck by the attention,’ he said. ‘They have resolved to return the call this morning.’

‘That is very good of them,’ I said, when I could master my surprise.

‘They did not want to be backward in any attention.’

‘I hope you enjoy your fishing,’ I said to the gentlemen. ‘If you will excuse me, I have to return to the house.’

My house-guests murmured civilities, assuming I had business to attend to, but I saw a look of comprehension on Mr Gardiner’s face. So he knows. I am not surprised.

I took no care to guard my feelings when I visited his niece. I am beyond feigning a lack of interest.

I returned to the house and went into the saloon. My eyes went immediately to Elizabeth. I knew instantly that she belonged there. As I watched her, I saw a future stretching out in front of me, a future in which I saw Elizabeth and myself living at Pemberley. I wanted it more than I have ever wanted anything, and I can only hope she wants the same.

‘Miss Bennet, Mrs Gardiner, it is very good of you to call on my sister so soon,’ I said.

‘Oh, yes, very good,’ said Georgiana, blushing. ‘I did not expect it.’

‘We could not do otherwise, after your kindness in welcoming us,’ said Mrs Gardiner to Georgiana.

Georgiana blushed again, but I had eyes only for Elizabeth. Her gaze met mine. She looked away, embarrassed, and yet I thought I saw a welcome in her eyes before she turned away.

Caroline and Louisa were sitting silently, making no contribution to the conversation and leaving Georgiana to perform her duties as a hostess alone.

Mrs Annesley helped her, saying to Elizabeth: ‘The grounds at Pemberley are very fine. I believe you saw them a few days ago?’

‘Yes, we enjoyed walking round them very much,’ said Elizabeth. ‘The trees are very handsome. ’ She glanced out of the window at some specimens.

‘They are Spanish chestnuts,’ Georgiana said softly, pleased to be able to add something to the conversation.

‘Have they been here long?’ asked Elizabeth, turning towards her encouragingly.

‘Oh, yes, they are very old.’

Georgiana looked at me for approval and I smiled at her. She has not had much experience of welcoming guests, and none at all of welcoming people whom she does not know, but she acquitted herself very well.

Caroline evidently felt she had been silent long enough.

‘Pray, Miss Eliza, are not the militia removed from Meryton? They must be a great loss to your family.’

I had never heard her speak with such venom. Her satirical comments were usually uttered with some semblance of a smile, but there was nothing humorous about them today, and I realized for the first time how truly poisonous Caroline can be.

I saw Elizabeth’s distress. A thousand recollections flooded my mind. My own ungenerous remarks concerning her younger sisters; her face as she flung an accusation of ruining Wickham at me; my angry retaliation; and then my letter.

I felt for her, but she had no need of my assistance in repelling the attack. After a moment’s distress she replied:

‘It is always sad to lose the company of intelligent and good-natured people. There are those who enter a neighbourhood with a view of mocking all they see, or an intention of forming false friendships with which to while away their time whilst giving no thought to the feelings of those who must remain. But we were fortunate with the officers. They were polite and well-bred.

They gave us pleasure when they were with us, and left nothing but pleasant memories behind when they went.’

I caught Elizabeth’s eye and smiled. Caroline was silenced, and my sister was relieved from the acute embarrassment she had experienced when Caroline’s words had reminded her of George Wickham. I was relieved of a great burden. By her calm manner I believed Elizabeth’s infatuation with Wickham to be over.

The visit came to an end, but I could not bear to let Elizabeth go.

‘You must let me see you to the carriage,’ I said, as Mrs Gardiner rose to take her leave.

‘Thank you,’ she said.

I walked with them, glad of the opportunity it afforded me to be with Elizabeth. Her aunt walked a little ahead, so that I could talk to her alone.

‘I hope you have enjoyed your morning.’

‘Yes, thank you, I have.’

‘I hope I will see you here again.’

We had reached the carriage, I could say no more. But my feelings were in my glance. She blushed, and looked down, from confusion, I hope. There is still some little awkwardness between us, but that will pass, and then I will discover if her feelings towards me are still what they were at Easter.

I handed Mrs Gardiner into the carriage. I handed Elizabeth in after her, and the carriage pulled away.

Little had I known when I had returned to Pemberley that it would hold so much of interest for me. It would soon have a new mistress, I hoped. I looked across the sweeping lawns and pictured my sons going down to the river to fish. I looked to the house and saw my daughters returning from a walk, their petticoats covered in mud. If I could be sure it would come to pass, I would think myself lucky indeed.

I was loath to return to the saloon, but knew it must be done. I could not leave Georgiana alone with Caroline and Louisa. They had done nothing to help her during Elizabeth’s visit, and had indeed added to her distress.

If it was possible to invite Bingley to Pemberley without his sisters I would willingly do so.

‘How very ill Miss Eliza Bennet looks this morning,’ said Caroline, as soon as I entered the room. ‘She is grown so brown and coarse. Louisa and I were agreeing that we should not have known her again.’

It was clear to me that Caroline’s remarks were inspired by jealousy. I had wondered, on occasion, if she fancied herself the next Mrs Darcy, but dismissed the notion. Now I was sure of it. I was determined not to let her ill-natured remarks ruin my happiness, however.

‘I saw nothing different about her, except that she was rather tanned, no miraculous consequence of travelling in summer.’

‘For my own part,’ she went on spitefully, ‘I must confess that I never could see any beauty in her.’

As she went on to criticize Elizabeth’s nose, chin, complexion and teeth I grew more and more annoyed, but said nothing, even when she added: ‘And as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so fine, I never could perceive anything extraordinary in them.’

She looked at me challengingly, but I remained determinedly silent.

‘I remember your saying one night, after they had been dining at Netherfield: “She is a beauty! – I should as soon call her mother a wit”.’

‘Yes,’ I replied, unable to contain myself, ‘but that was only when I first knew her, for it is many months since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.’

And so saying, I walked out of the room.

Caroline’s impertinence goes beyond all bounds. If she was not Bingley’s sister I would tell her to leave. To insult Elizabeth, to me! She must be far gone with jealousy indeed.

But she cannot pierce my happiness. I love Elizabeth.

Now it only remains to be seen if Elizabeth loves me.

I could not sleep last night, but this time the cause was happiness. I think Elizabeth is not averse to me. In time, I think, she might come to like me. I thank the happy fate that brought her to Derbyshire, and the happier one that prompted me to ride ahead of the rest of my party, in time to meet her. In London, I tried to forget her, but it was impossible. Now, I must try to win her.

I went to the inn, therefore, this morning, hoping to sit with her. I was shown up to the parlour by the servant. As we went upstairs I wondered what expression would cross her face when I entered the room. By that, I might know much. A smile would show I was welcome. Embarrassment would give me leave to hope. A cold look would dash me completely.

The door opened. But instead of seeing Elizabeth sitting with her aunt, I saw her darting towards the door, her face pale and her manner agitated. I started, thinking some great calamity must have befallen her to produce such a look, but before I had a chance to speak she turned anguished eyes to mine and exclaimed: ‘I beg your pardon, but I must leave you. I must find Mr Gardiner this moment, on business that cannot be delayed; I have not an instant to lose.’

‘Good God! What is the matter?’ I asked, longing to be of service to her. As soon as the words were out, I knew how unhelpful they had been. Collecting myself, I said: ‘Let me, or let the servant, go after Mr Gardiner. You are not well enough; you cannot go yourself.’

‘Oh, yes, the servant. ’ She called him back and said breathlessly: ‘You must find my uncle. Fetch him at once.

It is a matter of the utmost urgency. Send a boy. Tell him his niece needs him immediately. Tell my aunt. She must come, too.’

The servant promised to do so, and left the room.

I saw Elizabeth’s knees tremble and I moved forward, ready to lend her my assistance, but she sat down before I could reach her, looking so miserably ill that I could not have left her, even if I had wanted to.

‘Let me call your maid,’ I said gently, feeling suddenly useless. I knew nothing about helping ladies in such circumstances. A sudden thought hit me. ‘A glass of wine, shall I fetch you one?’

‘No, I thank you,’ she said. I saw her wrestle with herself and control the worst of her agitation. ‘I am quite well. I am only distressed by some dreadful news which I have just received from Longbourn.’

She burst into tears. I longed to go to her and comfort her. I longed to put my arms around her and ease her pain. But I could do nothing. For the first time in my life I cursed civility, good manners and breeding. They had always seemed so important to me, but they now seemed valueless because they were keeping me from Elizabeth.

A moment longer and I believe I would have thrown convention to the wind, but she recovered herself and said: ‘I have just had a letter from Jane, with such dreadful news. My youngest sister has left all her friends – has eloped – has thrown herself into the power of – of Mr Wickham. They are gone off together from Brighton.

You know him too well to doubt the rest. She has no money, no connections, nothing that can tempt him – she is lost for ever.’

I could not believe what I was hearing. This was perfidy indeed. To steal a young girl away from her relatives and friends. And yet he had done it before, or at least he had tried to do it and would have succeeded if he had not been foiled in the attempt.

‘When I consider that I might have prevented it! I who knew what he was,’ she said.

No, I wanted to say. You are not to blame. I should have made his nature known. But the words were pouring out of her in a torrent, and I could do nothing but let her speak. At last, her flow came to an end.

‘But is it certain, absolutely certain?’ I asked.

News travels fast, especially bad news, but it is often distorted along the way. I could not think that Wickham would elope with Miss Lydia Bennet. She had nothing to tempt him, and he had no score to settle with the Bennets. He must know that such behaviour would make him an outcast. It was too great a price to pay for the pleasure of marrying a silly young girl with no name and no fortune. And then, indeed, how could he marry her?

She was under age. He could take her to Gretna Green but the journey would cost a great deal, and I knew he would not spend half that amount unless his bride was a considerable heiress.

‘They left Brighton together on Saturday night and were traced almost to London, but not beyond; they are certainly not gone to Scotland.’

I began to gain an idea of what must have happened.

Wickham knew London. He knew where he could lie concealed. And when he had taken his pleasure, he could abandon Miss Lydia Bennet with impunity.

All this had followed from my insufferable pride. If I had made Wickham’s character known it could not have happened, but I had disdained to do it, and in consequence I had hurt the woman I loved.

‘What has been done, what has been attempted to recover her?’ I asked.

I needed to know, so that I would understand how best to use my time, and how to conduct my own search. I would not rest until Elizabeth’s sister was returned to her.

‘My father is gone to London, and Jane has written to beg my uncle’s immediate assistance, and we shall be off, I hope, in half an hour.’

Half an hour! After all my hopes, to lose Elizabeth so soon, but of course it must be done.

‘How is such a man to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? I have not the smallest hope. It is every way horrible!’

I could say nothing, do nothing, but give her my silent sympathy and hope it strengthened her. I longed to embrace her, but her uncle would be returning at any minute, and to do so would make the situation worse.

‘When my eyes were opened to his real character. Oh!

Had I known what I ought, what I dared to do! But I knew not. I was afraid of doing too much. Wretched, wretched mistake!’

I knew she must be wanting me gone. It was I who had enjoined her to secrecy; I who had said she must tell no one. And this had been the result. A sister ruined, a family in turmoil. …She would not look at me. I was not surprised. I managed a few incoherent words, telling her I had nothing to plead in excuse of my stay but concern.

‘This unfortunate affair will, I fear, prevent my sister’s having the pleasure of seeing you at Pemberley today?’

As soon as I spoken, I thought how ridiculous the words were. Of course it would prevent it. She did not seem to mind, however, for she answered me directly.

‘Oh, yes. Be so kind as to apologize for us to Miss Darcy. Conceal the unhappy truth as long as it is possible.

I know it cannot be long.’

‘You can rely on my secrecy. I am sorry it had come to this – I wish you a happier conclusion to events than now seems possible.’

Because if a happy conclusion is possible, I will contrive it somehow, I thought.

With that I left her to her solitude and returned to Pemberley.

‘You have been abroad early,’ said Caroline as I entered the saloon. ‘You have been visiting Miss Eliza Bennet, perhaps?’

I saw the jealousy in her eyes, and heard it in her voice. I had never realized until that moment how deeply she wanted me. Or perhaps it would be fairer to say, how deeply she wanted Pemberley. Without it, she would have regarded me as nothing. My handwriting could have been the most even in the world and she would not have thought fit to comment on it.

‘Yes, I have,’ I returned.

‘And how is she this morning?’

‘She is very well.’

‘And we will be seeing her later, I suppose? How these country people bore one with their visits.’

‘No, she will not be calling.’

‘Not bad news from home, I hope?’ asked Caroline.

‘Lydia Bennet has not run off with one of the officers?’

I started, but then controlled myself. She could not have heard about it. Elizabeth had told no one but myself. Caroline’s words were the result of spite, and their accuracy was nothing more than luck.

‘Or perhaps her accomplished sister – Mary, is it not? – visited Lydia in Brighton and attracted the attention of the Prince of Wales? Perhaps he has invited the whole family to stay with him, so that they can share in Mary’s triumph as she entertains him at the Marine Pavilion,’ she said in a droll voice.

‘Her uncle has had to take her home. He has been forced to curtail his holiday, as an urgent business matter has called him back to London.’

‘These city men and their urgent business,’ said Caroline, conveniently forgetting, as is her habit, that her father made his fortune from trade.

‘That is what comes of having an uncle in Cheapside,’ said Louisa. ‘I pity Miss Eliza Bennet. It must be mortifying to have to cut short a holiday on account of business.’

‘It reminds me that I, too, have business to attend to, which I have neglected for too long,’ I said shortly. ‘You will excuse me for a few days, I am sure.’

‘You are going to London?’ asked Bingley.

‘Yes.’

‘What a good idea. I should love a few days in London,’ said Caroline.

‘In all this heat?’ asked Louisa.

‘The heat is nothing,’ she said.

‘Can your business not wait?’ said Bingley to me. ‘I have to go to London myself at the end of the month.

We could go together.’

‘Unfortunately it is urgent. Stay and enjoy Pemberley.

There is plenty for you to do here, and my sister will make sure you are well looked after. I will not be away very long.’

‘I think I will take advantage of the opportunity to go to London with you and do some shopping,’ said Caroline, standing up. ‘I will call in on my dressmaker. You would not object to taking me with you in the carriage, I am sure.’

‘You will not wish to leave Georgiana,’ I said. ‘I know how much you enjoy her company.’

Caroline was silenced. She quite doted on Georgiana, or so she was fond of saying, and she could not pursue me without revealing her friendship to be false. She might betray Miss Bennet, but she would not care to betray Georgiana, particularly since I knew a plan fermented in her brain, similar to one I had once entertained, of Georgiana becoming her sister-in-law.

I felt a moment of compunction for abandoning my sister to such ill-natured company, but reflected that she would have her music and sketching to occupy her, and would have Bingley to amuse her, as well as Mrs Annesley, so that she would not be too sorely tried. Besides, I had no choice. I must find Wickham and repair the damage he had done.

I wanted to leave straight away, but various preparations had to be made, and I resolved to leave first thing in the morning.

I arrived in London today and I knew where to start my search: with Mrs Younge. It was fortunate that I had turned her off without giving her a chance to pack her bags, because it meant that she had had to leave an address to which they could be sent. I found it soon enough, a large house in Edward Street.

‘Mr Darcy!’ she said in astonishment when she opened the door. Then she became wary. ‘What are you doing here? If it is to accuse me of taking the silver serving-spoons when I left Ramsgate, then it is a lie. I never touched them. I had my suspicions of Watkins –’

‘My visit has nothing to do with serving-spoons,’ I said, grateful that this was one domestic trouble I had been spared. ‘may I come in?’

‘No, you may not,’ she said, drawing herself up and pulling her shawl about her shoulders. ‘It’s lucky I have a roof over my head after you turned me off so cruelly, without even a reference. I had nowhere to go –’

‘But you seem to have done well for yourself,’ I remarked. ‘Tell me, Mrs Younge, how did you afford to take a house like this?’

She licked her lips. ‘I was left a legacy,’ she said. ‘And a good thing I was, after –’

‘I am looking for George Wickham,’ I said, not wanting to waste any more time on listening to her lies and deciding it would be useless to try and persuade her to let me in.

She looked surprised. ‘Mr Wickham?’

‘Yes. George Wickham.’

She became tight-lipped. ‘I haven’t seen him,’ she said.

It was obvious she was lying, but I knew I would get no more from her for the present.

‘Tell him I am looking for him. I will call back later.

Good day.’

I knew that, eventually, greed would compel her to seek me out. And with that I returned to Darcy House.

Mrs Younge came to see me this morning, as I knew she would.

‘You said you were looking for Mr Wickham?’ she asked, as my butler showed her in.

‘I am.’

‘I know where he is. I happened to meet him by chance in the park yesterday,’ she said. ‘I mentioned that you were in town, and he said he would be delighted if you would call on him.’

He thinks he can extract money from me, no doubt.

‘Very good. What is his address?’

‘Well, now, let me think. It was a funny name,’ she said, holding out her hand.

I put a sovereign into it.

‘If I can just remember it.’

It took me five sovereigns, but at last I found out what I wanted to know.

I went immediately to the address she had given me, and found that Wickham was expecting me.

‘My dear Darcy,’ he said, looking up at my entrance.

‘How good of you to find time to visit me.’

I looked around his lodgings. They were small and mean, and told me his situation must be desperate. I was pleased, as I knew it would make him more compliant.

‘Do sit down,’ he said.

‘I prefer to stand.’

‘As you wish.’

He himself sat down and lolled in his chair, resting his legs over the arm.

‘What brings you here?’ he asked, smiling up at me.

‘You know what brings me.’

‘I confess I am at a loss. You have decided to give me a living, perhaps, and have come to tell me the good news?’

His insolence angered me, but I kept my temper.

‘I have come to tell you what your own conscience should have told you, that you should never have abducted Miss Bennet.’

‘Miss Bennet?’ he asked, feigning astonishment. ‘But I have not seen Miss Bennet. I have been in Brighton, and she remained at Longbourn.’

‘Miss Lydia Bennet.’

‘Ah, Lydia. I did not abduct Lydia. She came with me of her own free will. I was leaving Brighton as my creditors were becoming rather vocal, and Lydia suggested she came with me. I tried to put her off. To be truthful, Darcy, she bores me. She is too easy a conquest. She convinced herself I was the handsomest man in the regiment, and the thing was done. I told her I had no money but she did not care. “I am sure you will have some one day,” she said. “Lord, what a lark!” I grew so tired of her pleading that it was easier to let her come with me than it was to make her stay behind. Besides, she has her uses,’ he said impudently.

At that moment the door opened, and Lydia herself came in.

‘Lord, what a surprise! Mr Darcy!’ she said, going over to Wickham. She stood beside his chair and rested one hand on his shoulder.

‘Mr Darcy has come to reprimand me for abducting you,’ said Wickham, covering her hand with his own.

She laughed at me.

‘My dear Wickham did not abduct me! Why should he? I was eager to see London. I told him he must take me with him. What fun it has been!’

‘Have you no thought for your family?’ I asked her coldly. ‘They have been worried about you ever since you left the care of Colonel Forster. They have no idea where you are.’

‘Lord! I forgot to write,’ said Lydia. ‘I have been so busy with my dear Wickham. We have had such a time!

But never mind. I will write as soon as we are married.

What fun it will be, to sign my name, Lydia Wickham!’

She squeezed his hand and he, the insolent dog, pulled her into his lap and kissed her, then smiled at me whilst caressing her.

‘So you see, Darcy, your concern is misplaced,’ he said.

Lydia’s words had told me one thing: that at least she expected to be married. I felt she would be less eager to remain with him if she knew that Wickham had no such intention. I did not think he would tell her, however – why should he lose an eager companion? – and so I felt it necessary for me to do so.

‘I would like to talk to Miss Bennet alone,’ I said to Wickham.

‘Very well,’ said he, pushing her off his lap. ‘Try and talk her into going home if you will. She is a baggage.

But I cannot see why her fate matters to you,’ he added as he stood up.

‘It matters because I could have made your character known in Meryton and did not. It would have been impossible for you to have behaved in this way if your true self were known.’

‘Perhaps,’ he said, ‘but I do not believe that is the reason. I doubt if you would have sought me out if I had run off with Maria Lucas.’

I did not flinch. If I let him once guess that I had a personal reason for seeking him out, he would be difficult to buy off at any price.

‘Stay,’ said Lydia, snatching at his hand as he walked towards the door.

‘Mr Darcy wishes to speak with you alone. He is afraid I am keeping you here against your will, and he wants to give you a chance to go home with him.’

‘As if I would wish to go back to stuffy old Longbourn,’ she said, twining her arms round his neck and kissing him on the lips.

He put his arms round her and returned her kiss, then looked at me tauntingly before leaving the room.

‘Is he not handsome?’ asked Lydia, as the door closed behind him. ‘All the girls were wild for him in Meryton, and Miss King would have married him if her guardian had not put a stop to it. It was the same in Brighton. Any number of them would have run away with him. Miss Winchester –’

‘Miss Bennet, you cannot stay here,’ I interrupted her.

‘It is a little shabby, to be sure, but we will have something better by and by. I would like your help though, Mr Darcy.’

‘Yes?’ I said, hoping she had seen sense at last.

‘What do you think? I cannot decide. Does my dear Wickham look better in his red coat or his blue?’

‘Miss Bennet!’ I rapped out. ‘You cannot stay here with Wickham. He has no intention of marrying you. I know he has said he has, but it was a lie, to make you elope with him.’

‘He did not make me elope with him, it was I who made him elope with me. Brighton was growing boring,’ she said with a yawn. ‘Colonel Forster was so stuffy. He would not let me go to half the things I wanted to, and I had to sneak out of the camp on two occasions to attend my Wickham’s parties. Denny helped me. I dressed as a man. You should have seen me. My own mother would not have recognized me.’

‘Your reputation will be in ruins! He will abandon you as soon as he tires of you, and you will be left in London without a protector, with no money and nowhere to live. Come back with me now, and I will do what I can to persuade your family to receive you.’

‘Lord! I do not want to go home! I would die of boredom. I am sure we shall be married some time or another, and if not, it does not much signify,’ she said.

She was immovable. She would not leave him. Since such were her feelings, I could do nothing but try and make sure a marriage took place.

Wickham came back into the room, carrying a decanter in one hand and a glass in the other. He put his arm round Lydia and she turned to kiss him immediately.

‘Well, Darcy? Have you persuaded her to leave me?’ he asked, when he had done.

‘She is lost to all sense,’ I said angrily, ‘but since she will not leave you, you must marry her.’

‘Come now, Darcy. You know I cannot do that. My pockets are to let. I have debts all over the country. There are unpaid bills in Meryton, and worse in Brighton. I need to marry an heiress.’

‘Do you hear this?’ I demanded of Miss Bennet.

She only shrugged.

‘It does not signify. An heiress would bring us some money, then we could have a better house,’ she said.

It was only because of Elizabeth that I stayed. My inclination was to walk out and leave her sister to the life she had made for herself. But the thought of Elizabeth’s pale face sustained me.

‘Meet me at my club tomorrow,’ I said to Wickham.

‘My dear Darcy, you know I am not welcome there.’

‘I will make sure you are admitted.’

He looked surprised, but said: ‘Very well.’

As I left the house, the memory of his insolent smile went with me.

I met Wickham at my club and the negotiations began.

‘You must marry her,’ I said to him shortly.

‘If I do that, I give up for ever the chance of making my fortune through marriage.’

‘You have ruined her,’ I said. ‘Does that mean nothing to you?’

He crossed one ankle over the other and lay back in the chair. ‘She ruined herself,’ he said.

A waiter passed, and he ordered a whisky. I did not react, knowing he did it only to annoy me.

‘How much do you owe?’ I asked, going straight to the heart of the matter.

‘Several hundred pounds.’

‘Whether that is true or not, I do not know but I shall. If you give your bills to my agent, he will pay them for you. In return, you will marry Lydia.’

‘Come now, as you are so anxious to see her wed, she is worth a lot more than that. Is it Miss Bennet who has caught your fancy, or is it the lovely Elizabeth?’

‘I am doing this for my own conscience,’ I said.

He laughed in my face.

‘No man goes to such lengths to ease his own conscience. Let me guess. It is the beautiful Jane Bennet.

Sweet-natured, beautiful Jane. She would make a splendid addition to Pemberley. I congratulate you, Darcy.’

‘I have no intention of marrying Miss Bennet.’

‘Then it is Elizabeth.’

I said nothing, but he must have guessed it from my face.

‘Ah! So it is! Her liveliness appeals to you. I would not have thought it. You are so pompous, Darcy, but they say that opposites attract.’

He had the upper hand, and he was enjoying using it.

‘Have a care,’ I warned him. ‘I will do much to save Lydia Bennet from disgrace, but if you go too far, instead of having your debts paid and something more besides, you will find yourself pursued by every creditor in Brighton, and maybe the army, for I will give them all your address.’

‘I can go to Bath, or Lyme, or the Lake District,’ he said. ‘I do not have to live here. ’ But I could tell he had no stomach for further flight.

‘Do so,’ I said, calling his bluff. I stood up and turned towards the door.

‘Wait,’ he said.

I paused.

‘I will marry her –’

‘Good,’ I said, sitting down again.

‘–for thirty thousand pounds.’

‘What?’ I cried.

‘It is the sum I should have had from Georgiana.’

I mastered my temper with difficulty. ‘I will give you nothing of the kind.’

‘Very well, then, twenty thousand.’

I stood up and left the club.

He will come to me soon enough. He has nowhere else to go.

I do not relish seeing him, but the knowledge that it will ease Elizabeth’s fears recompenses me for any time or trouble I might take, and I hope that, before very long, I will see her happy again.

Wickham called on me this afternoon, as I knew he would. His situation is desperate, and he cannot afford to throw away assistance. Only the thought of Elizabeth’s happiness sustained me throughout the ordeal, which was as unpleasant as our last encounter. If not for her, I would have abandoned the matter. We settled at last on a thousand pounds to pay his debts and a further thousand.

‘And a commission,’ he said.

‘I cannot believe you will be welcome in the army.’

‘You have some influence there. Come, Darcy, I must have something to live on. How else am I to support a wife?’

At last I agreed, on condition he join a regiment in the far north. I do not want to see him when Elizabeth and I are married. If Elizabeth and I are married. I made the mistake once before of thinking that she was wanting me to propose to her, but I was wrong. I will not make the same mistake again.

Having settled everything with Wickham, I decided to call on Mr Gardiner to let him know what had been decided. I soon found his house, but when I asked to see him I learnt from the servants that Mr Bennet was with him. I hesitated. In the first flush of discovery, I feared Mr Bennet might do something rash. On further enquiry I found that Mr Bennet will be returning home tomorrow. I therefore judged it wiser to wait, thinking it would be easier to talk to Mr Gardiner than Mr Bennet. Mr Gardiner is of necessity less closely involved, and therefore he is likely to be more rational.

I called on Mr Gardiner and this time found him alone.

He was surprised to see me, but welcomed me cordially.

‘Mr Darcy. I did not know you intended to visit town so soon. How is your sister? Well, I hope?’

‘Very well.’

‘We were delighted to meet her in Derbyshire. She is a beautiful girl.’

‘Thank you. You are very kind. It is not about my sister I have come to talk to you, however, but about your niece.’

I saw him change colour.

‘Will you not sit down?’

‘Thank you. I called on her shortly after her sister’s letter was delivered,’ I said, ‘and learnt the unhappy truth.

I felt responsible for the situation, for I knew of Wickham’s character and yet I kept silent. He had done something similar before, but I had not mentioned it because I had wanted to protect the young lady’s reputation. If I had made his perfidy known, then no woman would have been able to love him, and Miss Lydia Bennet would have been safe.’

His expression said that nothing would have kept a girl as wild as Lydia safe.

Aloud he said: ‘It is really not your fault.’

‘Nevertheless, I took it upon myself to track him down. I knew his acquaintances, and knew how to find out where he might be. I have seen him, and persuaded him that a marriage must take place.’

He looked more and more surprised as I unfolded the details. He refused to let me undertake any of the financial arrangements, but as I argued it with him back and forth, a thoughtful expression began to cover his face. He suspected the nature of my feelings for Elizabeth, I am sure of it, but said nothing. How could he? He said at last that we had talked long enough, and invited me to call on him again tomorrow. I think he wishes to consult his wife as to how far I should be allowed to help.

I left him and retired to my club. Everything will soon be settled, I am confident of it. As soon as Elizabeth hears of it she will be relieved of care, and it is that thought that sustains me. She will be able to laugh again, and tease me, and she will forget all about her sister.

I called upon Mr Gardiner again, and this time Mrs Gardiner was with him. They welcomed me warmly, and after exchanging pleasantries, I said again that I expected to settle Wickham’s debts. That they agreed to, but they would not agree to me settling anything else. There are some arrangements still to be made, however, and I mean to work on Mr Gardiner again tomorrow, until he agrees to let me settle the whole.

All has finally been settled. I have at last managed to have my own way. Mr Gardiner had an express sent off to Longbourn, and it gave me great satisfaction to know that it will relieve Elizabeth from distress. Mr and Mrs Gardiner are to offer Lydia their protection until the marriage can be arranged. I do not envy them. She has shown no remorse for what she has done, and seems to think it a great joke. She is one of the most worthless girls of my acquaintance.

I returned to Pemberley, and I was pleased to find that my guests had noticed nothing strange about my absence. If they knew that I had been arranging a marriage, instead of attending to business, how astonished they would be!

I travelled to London, and tomorrow I have the unpleasant task of making sure Wickham attends his own wedding.