In earlier times, such a remark from Maria would have passed unnoticed, but their relationship had altered significantly. Elizabeth was beginning to discover in her a young woman of wit and, it seemed, a keen sense of observation.
She smiled at her words but did not dismiss them, for she, too, had found Mr Darcy to be more than merely polite towards her. And since she needed someone to confide in, she wrote a long letter to her aunt, filled with questions.
She recounted the unexpected evening and Maria’s observation in faithful detail, which she had yet to interpret with certainty. Could such an arrogant man genuinely be interested in her? The question was repeated in her letter in various forms, for it had occupied her thoughts all evening.
Do you believe, dear aunt, that in allowing myself this curiosity, I betray those I left behind in Hertfordshire, the same people Mr Darcy so openly disdained throughout his visit? I have always prided myself on my loyalty, and just as you wish to remain unaltered in certain aspects of your nature, so too would I preserve those qualities of mine. Though, as my ever-sarcastic father would say, they are not many.
But if Mr Darcy has changed, if he has softened his pride, tempered his arrogance, and now regards those around him in an entirely different manner, I might undoubtedly allow myself to see him in a different light and accept his admiration. Of course, there remains the matter of Mr Wickham, the appalling manner in which he was treated, denied the rights old Mr Darcy had intended for him. Yet that is a family affair where I have no real place.
Lady Catherine spent the entire evening striving to persuade everyone that Mr Darcy was engaged to her daughter, proclaiming an arrangement had existed between her late sister, Lady Anne, and herself since their children were young. However, she alone believes this to be true. Colonel Fitzwilliam, their cousin and the brother-in-law of your friend Lady Oakham, stated quite plainly that they were not engaged, and the matter was thus settled. Though I doubt Lady Catherine will cease to persist.
Miss de Bourgh is indeed a young lady of refined manners and elegance, yet she struck me as so exceedingly timid that she even surpasses Jane in reserve.
As for the rest? What can I say? I enjoyed the evening. I took pleasure in Mr Darcy’s company and appreciated the playful undercurrent of our conversation. And I must admit that if my playing was admired, it was due in no small part to my excellent spirits.
Knowing this gentleman as I do, I find it difficult to believe he will continue in the same manner. Even last autumn there were these fluctuations, this wavering between admiration and indifference, that I could explain in no other way than as the whims of a proud and capricious nature.
And now, I know the question that must follow: What do I feel? Dearest aunt, it is impossible for me to say. Still, I would be dishonest were I not to admit that I spent a delightful evening and took pleasure in being the focus of attention for a man who is intelligent, witty, and, lest we forget, both handsome and elegant. It is, no doubt, a frivolous fancy. But after all, what would our lives be if we were not, on occasion, a little superficial?
Chapter 10
“She is an extraordinary young woman!” exclaimed the colonel that same evening, bursting into the library where Darcy was reading.
Darcy closed the book with a slow gesture and smiled in silent agreement.
There was nothing more to be said. That evening, Elizabeth had shone with beauty, wit, and grace.
“Good Lord, Darcy, what are you waiting for?” the colonel asked.
“Nothing. I am enchanted, captivated! Most likely tomorrow or the day after at the latest, I shall ask for her hand,” he said in a tone so content that the colonel smiled with satisfaction. “But I need you to tell me how she looked at me.”
“Darcy!” he cried out, uncertain whether his cousin had spoken in earnest or with that faint sarcasm of his that made any reply difficult. But the serene expression before him revealed an unexpected truth: the proud, self-assured man was in need of an answer.
“Heavens! What is happening to you? All I can say is that I liked her at once, just as I liked Diana when I first met her. They are of the same breed of woman, yet Miss Bennet possesses a sharp mind far beyond what one might expect at her age. Diana is over thirty now and has grown much since her marriage. Miss Bennet, however, lacks for nothing at present—”
“Except to say yes.”
“Which a charming and intelligent man such as yourself will surely know how to bring about. Be the man you were tonight, and I am certain Miss Bennet will respond to the attention and affection you offer her and have offered her all evening.”
With a slightly mischievous smile, the colonel imagined the scene: Darcy announcing his engagement to Miss Bennet at one of their forthcoming dinners. He wondered whether their aunt would suffer an apoplexy or begin to shout, and he considered what measures she might take to prevent the marriage. Yet he said nothing aloud, for Darcy was more than capable of thwarting any attempt to undermine his happiness; no one could stand in his way once his decision was made.
∞∞∞
Unfortunately, there was only one man on Earth who could stop him—and that man was Darcy himself.
At first, the colonel noted only a particular distraction in his cousin, but as breakfast progressed, his concern deepened. The man before him was no longer the one he had left the previous evening. He barely restrained his curiosity until the meal was over, then nearly dragged Darcy away from their aunt and cousin, into the library, which at Rosings was usually empty.
“What has happened?” he demanded, then quickly lowered his voice, wary that Lady Catherine might overhear.
Darcy let himself fall into an armchair, defeated.
“I shall not marry,” he declared, then fell silent, his torment so evident that the colonel felt real alarm. He had seen him like this only once before, at Ramsgate, on the day they had thwarted Wickham’s vile scheme to elope with Georgiana. For a moment, he feared it was again about that scoundrel, but Wickham could have no part in Darcy’s plans for marriage.
“Speak,” he said, his voice firm with command. It was not the moment for delicacy.
“I went for a walk before breakfast.”
“And you met her?” the colonel asked quickly, but Darcy shook his head.
