If the colonel was right and Fitzwilliam loved Miss Bennet, she wanted more than anything else for him to forget any obstacles and follow his heart. She smiled, overwhelmed by happiness—helping the colonel in that delicate mission was a way to show her deep gratitude towards her brother, who had saved her from a terrible mistake.
Their conversation was interrupted by Lady Catherine, who was growing impatient as she wondered why her guests were spending time without her, and she took Georgiana away.
Alone in the room, the colonel approached the window. In the distance, the Parsonage was visible through the trees. But contrary to what Georgiana hoped, he feared that his cousinpossessed the will to silence his heart and let his mind take control.
Chapter 11
The plan appeared to require some adjustment, for nothing remarkable happened in the days that followed. The cousins made their visits to the Parsonage, on some occasions unaccompanied and on others under the watchful eyes of Lady Catherine. They wandered through the park and often found themselves in the presence of Miss Bennet, most frequently in the quiet morning hours, but no clarification came from their meetings. Dinners at Rosings were arranged with the intent to seat Mr Darcy near Miss Bennet. Yet, to the dismay of the concerned conspirators, nothing of consequence seemed to occur.
“I am desperate,” the colonel confessed one morning to Georgiana during a secret rendezvous before breakfast.
“I know what you mean,” the young lady said with a sigh. She had already met Miss Bennet on several occasions, yet she could infer nothing from their pleasant conversations sprinkled with jokes and smiles. Whenever Georgiana attempted to steerthe discussion towards Darcy, Elizabeth listened attentively and politely, but she offered no reply that might reveal her feelings.
“No, dear, you do not know,” the colonel replied. “I am desperate because he seems to be becoming another man in her company. Just yesterday, when we paid a visit to the Parsonage, Darcy scarcely uttered ten words. It was as though a shadow had fallen upon his countenance when we entered the house, shrouding his usual charm and true nature. My cousin, so quick-witted, so clever, so possessed of a sharp tongue, becomes a mere monument to dullness whenever Miss Bennet is present. Yesterday, he called on her, and she was alone… I shudder to imagine what transpired. Instead of courting her with his usual wit and humour, showing her how suitable they were for each other with sparkling conversation, he likely stood as immobile as a statue, cold as marble. What is happening? Were we wrong about his feelings?”
“I fear the matter is more complicated than we initially thought. You were right, he has a profound affection for Miss Bennet, but it seems the obstacles he sees in the path of marrying her are equally profound.”
“How can that be? Does he consider those absurd doubts about her family more important than having found the right woman?” the colonel asked, and his torment made Georgiana blush with concern.
“I cannot imagine. I am at a loss as to why he continues to have doubts.”
“Why does he not leave? Why stay here like the shadow of the man he usually is?”
“He is probably still reflecting,” Georgiana replied with a heavy heart.
With each passing day and every meeting they shared, Georgiana grew increasingly confident that Miss Bennet was the woman her brother needed. With her, he might once againbecome the man she remembered before their father’s death—cheerful, full of humour, and brimming with a zest for life. The severe and somewhat aloof Fitzwilliam now reminded her more of their uncle Lord Matlock than their father, who, with an open heart, had always endeavoured to be kind and present in their lives after the loss of the woman he had adored.
“I may need to leave, even though I promised to be at his disposal,” the colonel lamented.
“I know. Let us grant them a few more days. You still have not had a serious conversation with Miss Bennet—that could be our last chance to make her see what is happening and makeheract in one way or another.”
“If she loves him—which neither of us can say. In this particular situation, I fear being too friendly—she might like me more than my cousin,” the colonel bitterly jested.
But Georgiana regarded him with a hint of concern, for on more than one occasion, Miss Bennet had shown that she did enjoy the colonel’s company. Considering her brother’s sudden aloofness and complete dullness, this was a matter not to be taken lightly.
Chapter 12
On the opposite side of the road, the scene was less dramatic but no less intriguing. The Collinses and Elizabeth found themselves unable to understand the reason behind the increased visits from the residents of Rosings. Mr Collins and his wife, flattered by this unexpected attention, struggled to provide a satisfactory explanation.
A day earlier, Charlotte and her sister had returned from a stroll to discover Elizabeth and Mr Darcy engrossed in atête-à-tête. For a brief moment, they had all stood still, caught in an awkward situation. Mr Darcy, in his usual reserved manner, had related the mistake that had occasioned his intruding on Miss Bennet, and after lingering a few moments longer, saying little to anyone, he had taken his leave.
“What could possibly be the meaning of this?” Charlotte had asked as soon as Mr Darcy had departed and Mr Collins left to visit parishioners. “My dear Lizzy, it is clear that he must bein love with you, or he would never have called on us in this familiar way.”
However, when Elizabeth had told of his silence during his visit, even Charlotte’s fondest wishes could not adamantly support her case. Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam’s calls happened at different times in the morning, sometimes separately, sometimes together, and occasionally accompanied by Lady Catherine and the young ladies. It was evident to all that Colonel Fitzwilliam came because he found pleasure in their society—which recommended him still more. Elizabeth enjoyed the colonel’s company as she once had the company of her former favourite, George Wickham. Although, in comparing the two, she saw a certain lack of captivating charm in Colonel Fitzwilliam’s manners, but she believed he had a more well-informed mind.
The only mystery that remained was Mr Darcy, who had shed much of his former aloofness but also the spirited presence that had delighted Elizabeth during their encounters at Netherfield. His visits to the Parsonage remained shrouded in mystery—a mystery Elizabeth tried to unravel during her meetings with Miss Darcy. But they were seldom alone, and their conversations remained confined to the realms of music, the arts, and the plays they both adored. Although Mr Darcy’s name was occasionally mentioned, neither of them said anything of significance nor posed any questions on matters that truly piqued her interest. Miss Darcy knew Mr Bingley well but was entirely unaware of what had transpired in Hertfordshire between him and Jane. Thus, even that conversation descended into trivialities about Mr Bingley’s sisters—a topic far from captivating the interest of Elizabeth, who wrote that evening to Jane:
Unfortunately, my undertaking in Kent will end in disappointment. Despite nearly two weeks of numerous meetings with Mr Darcy, Miss Darcy, and their cousin, I have received little information on Mr Bingley. And the prospect of acquiring more seems bleak, for even though Mr Darcy has curiously tempered his arrogance, he has transformed into a man I scarcely recognise. I vividly recall his eloquence in the library at Netherfield, yet the man who called upon me yesterday, while I was alone at the Parsonage, appeared restrained and almost timid, could not find any subject of conversation, and was reluctant to answer my questions.
After a long and rather fruitless discussion on whether fifty miles could be considered a considerable distance, I mustered the courage to enquire whether Mr Bingley intended to return to Netherfield. I hoped that a precise response might reveal more, but all he could offer was, ‘I have never heard him express such an intention’.
You may find it amusing, dear sister, if you are in such a disposition, for that was the extent of his reply. He added that it was likely Mr Bingley would spend little time at Netherfield in the future, given he has many acquaintances and is at a time of life when friends and engagements are continually increasing. In vain, I attempted to extract any hidden significance from those words, but they held none.
My patience waned, and I, regrettably, ventured into impoliteness by suggesting that Mr Bingley ought to quit the estate if he intended to spend so little time there. It would be more advantageous for our neighbourhood if he gave up the place entirely, allowing for a settled family to take his place.
Mr Bingley did not take the house so much for the convenience of the neighbourhood as for his own, and we must expect him to keep it or quit it on the same principle.
I was afraid of talking longer of his friend to Mr Darcy, and, having nothing else to say, I was then determined to leave the trouble of finding a subject to him.
