Yet it was not his family’s disapproval that troubled him most, but rather the inadequacy of hers in the society to which he belonged.
“I must apologise for Lady Catherine. People here are far too indulgent towards her,” the colonel said to Elizabeth after dinner. And she could not but notice that it was he, and not Darcy, who offered the apology. Yet it was true: Mr Collins and even Sir William behaved almost as though they were in her service.
“Do not concern yourself,” Elizabeth said, meeting his gaze. “I do not readily submit to criticism.”
They both laughed, and Darcy could not help but feel a certain envy of his cousin’s ease and charm.
∞∞∞
He found himself unable to approach Elizabeth. Lady Catherine’s attention was fixed upon him. At every attempt to speak to her, she interrupted with some unwelcome question. His aunt behaved as though she suspected something between them, though nothing had, in fact, occurred.
Elizabeth remained perfectly composed, and he, in return, was stiff and reserved, despite the tumult within. Not for a moment could he discern anything in her manner beyond civility—not the slightest wish to converse with him or to be near him. She admired the house and the dinner as any guest might, but seemed more inclined towards the colonel than towards himself.
That evening, he appeared so discouraged that the colonel felt obliged to rouse him. “Come, be reasonable. In our aunt’s presence, it was best to avoid any particular attention to her.”
“It is not only that,” Darcy replied. “I have looked in vain for the smallest sign that she likes me. I ought to be jealous of you,” he added with a faint smile. “She showed far more interest in you than in me.”
“My dear Darcy! From the way you looked, one might have thought you had forgotten all your experience with women. It is perfectly simple: she appeared interested in the man in whom she felt no real interest at all.”
“I do not believe her capable of such behaviour. Never before has she acted in such a manner with me—or with anyone.”
“Then find an opportunity to meet her alone, and learn what her feelings truly are.”
∞∞∞
They met on several occasions. He even accompanied his cousin to the parsonage, where they paid visits that proved as uninteresting as all the others, for Mr Collins, or Mrs Collins with her guests, were always present. Their deference was so excessive as to be disagreeable, and Darcy soon perceived that Lady Catherine’s influence extended well beyond Rosings itself.
“I spoke with Miss Elizabeth,” the colonel said one afternoon. “She walks almost every morning, around eleven, along various paths within and beyond the park. The best way to speak with her alone is to meet her during one of those walks.”
He looked at Darcy, waiting to learn whether he had reached a decision, but Darcy could not yet speak.
Chapter 6
“You are reckless.” The colonel spoke with evident annoyance. “I was with Lady Catherine on the front terrace, directly overlooking the park…and you were with Miss Elizabeth. It required all my powers of persuasion to induce her to return indoors. She does not see well at a distance, but she expected me to inform her of everything that was passing. I did my best; still, you may expect some reprimand and a number of questions this evening.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam was about to continue, but he stopped abruptly at the sight of his cousin’s expression. There was grief and perplexity in it, as though Darcy had laid bare his soul and revealed the depth of his despair.
“My good God, Darcy, what has happened?” he exclaimed, suddenly seized by the other’s distress.
But Darcy was not yet ready to speak. They walked on in silence for several minutes, the colonel prepared to yield to any wish his cousin might express. He had never seen him in such a state, and if Darcy accepted his presence and shared his silence, it was because he could not bear to be entirely alone.
Notsomeone, Darcy thought,but you. Even thinking required effort, as pain and sorrow overwhelmed him. At another time, he would have withdrawn from all company—even from the colonel—but something within him had altered. He was prepared to moderate his pride, to accept others as they were, and to cease attempting to shape them according to his own exacting standards.
“Is it so serious?” the colonel asked at last, unable to restrain his anxiety.
“It is.” Darcy fixed his gaze upon the parsonage in the distance, and involuntarily the colonel followed it. This concerned Miss Elizabeth, yet he could not conceive what could have occurred to produce such distress.
“I am angry with her, but also with myself,” Darcy said suddenly.
He had been taught never to weep, never to betray his feelings. It had been the same with his father, his uncle—every man he had known. Such restraint was considered essential to manhood. Yet he could no longer remain silent.
“She refused my proposal,” he said, and it seemed to him that his whole world had collapsed.
The colonel could scarcely credit such news. He could not imagine any woman refusing a man such as Darcy—honourable, well-intentioned, and possessed of a fortune sufficient to secure a happy life for any woman. His faults were no greater than those of other men.
“But why?” the colonel asked, almost in a whisper. “How did you express yourself?” He spoke with some apprehension, for he knew his cousin was not always at ease in matters of feeling.
Darcy hesitated only a moment. “I told her that I had struggled in vain against my feelings—”
