The colonel gave a slight shake of his head, unsure what to say, but the gesture made plain how deeply he regretted all that had happened and perhaps even how his cousin sometimes behaved.
“And besides,” Lady Oakham continued, “his family is ordinary—he is a wealthy landowner, nothing more.”
“He likely draws pride from the Matlock lineage,” the colonel suggested, seeking justification for his beloved cousin.
“Well, that is absurd. He must change if he hopes to win Miss Bennet back.”
“He does not wish to change. He wants to forget her. He told me so again only an hour ago, for what must be the hundredth time since our return. He speaks as if he means to marry Anne—”
“Anne de Bourgh?” Lady Oakham exclaimed, utterly incredulous. “Anne is a timid mouse, not a wife for Fitzwilliam Darcy—”
“Or Lady Olivia.”
“Lady Olivia?” Lady Oakham cried, even more astounded but now with a trace of genuine alarm on her face. “What are you saying? Out of all of London, he chooses her?”
And because the colonel remained silent, clearly puzzled by her response, she went on, “There is a group of young women in London whom I would never wish to see married to my son, were he of marrying age. Not one of them. They are notenlightened women, as one might think from listening to them, but the kind who are capable of loving only a man’s status and fortune.”
“And Lady Olivia is one of them,” said the colonel.
“Exactly. She is beautiful, refined, intelligent, but without scruples. Anne would be a happier alternative to such a young woman.”
“My God!” the colonel exclaimed. Of course, he was aware what Diana had said, but he had never believed things were so starkly defined in the circles they both frequented.
“You are telling me there is no longer any chance for Miss Elizabeth?”
“I hope not,” the colonel replied. “What Darcy says aloud these days does not necessarily reflect what is happening in his heart. I do not believe a love like that fades in a matter of days or even weeks. But he is wounded, and he wants to close a chapter he sees as shameful.”
Yet he recalled the look of embarrassment on Darcy’s face when they had spoken of Lady Olivia. A sudden fear gripped him, that his cousin might indeed be leaning towards that woman, despite what he knew of her.
“I am afraid he might do something desperate like entering into a hasty marriage. We must prevent him from marrying in such a state of mind. Why not wait until he is calm, until he can choose a wife with a rational mind if he no longer wishes for Miss Elizabeth? We must be able to do something!”
Lady Oakham shook her head slightly, and her beautiful face grew tense with quiet strain. “Such interventions rarely end well,” she murmured.
“I agree, but we cannot leave him alone with himself. If Miss Elizabeth harbours feelings for him, we must help them meet again.”
Diana smiled faintly, trying to ease the tension. “I, too, believe Miss Elizabeth has feelings for him,” she said but refrained from mentioning the letter she had received from her friend Mrs Gardiner. Any attempt to intervene would have to be carried out secretly so Darcy would not suspect someone was guiding him back towards Miss Elizabeth. And the colonel was not a man capable of keeping a secret. Her decision was already made, though she said nothing of it aloud.
“I suggest you speak to him again, and perhaps—very discreetly—let him know that Lady Olivia is not the woman who will bring him happiness. As you said, better to wait than to take a reckless step.”
Chapter 20
Elizabeth entered Mrs Gardiner’s comfortable parlour, utterly surprised and full of curiosity as she found Lady Oakham waiting for her. Only a week or so had passed since her return from Rosings, yet Lady Oakham had already called—an early visit that spoke plainly of her interest in making Elizabeth’s acquaintance.
“I am pleased to finally meet you, Miss Elizabeth,” Lady Oakham said with a warm smile that dispelled Elizabeth’s doubts and hesitancies.
“The pleasure is mine,” replied Elizabeth, a beautiful smile displayed on her face.
“I had hoped to see Mrs Gardiner and Miss Bennet as well,” Lady Oakham said, glancing about.
“They left half an hour ago to take the children for a walk in the sun after this prolonged rain.”
“Of course, I understand how it is. I have two little rascals of my own.”
They fell silent, neither of them certain how to proceed, but Diana was a determined woman.
“Miss Elizabeth, I came to talk to you about a difficult subject.” That rather abrupt beginning pleased Elizabeth, but she could not deny a trace of worry shadowing her heart. She nodded with a smile, inviting the lady to speak, uncertain about the subject—or, to be honest, she supposed the subject was Fitzwilliam Darcy, but she could not imagine the direction their conversation would take.
“I feel as though we have been friends for a long time. Your aunt talks a lot about you, and I intend to be sincere and tell you that I have had some interesting conversations about you besides those with Margaret,” she finally said. Elizabeth’s heart gave a painful leap, imagining for a fleeting moment that Mr Darcy had mentioned her.
