They reflected in silence on that long period and, looking around, saw many of their friends already married and with children.
“What are you saying? That we should look for wives?”
“Perhaps,” Darcy answered in an enigmatic tone that made his cousin study him.
“Have you found such a lady?” The colonel was increasingly surprised by their conversation. Nothing needed to be said; they could hide essential meanings within words only the other could understand.
“I am looking at Bingley…at the sorrow I have caused him. It has been more than two months, and he is no better.”
“But look at him: he dances and enjoys the ball…more than we do!”
Darcy nodded. “That is true, but I have the impression it is only on the surface, while deep within he is sad, regretting Miss Bennet. I know him well, and never in the past has such suffering lasted more than a couple of weeks. I remember last year in Bath: after only a few days, he was already in love again.”
“What happened in Bath?”
“He fell in love with Lady Helen Beardsley…”
“No!” exclaimed the colonel.
“Yes!” replied Darcy, almost amused. “He is like that: he sees a pretty face and a lady who seems in love, and he falls too before a word is spoken. Fortunately, Lady Helen asked him for an expensive piece of jewellery, and I think that woke him.”
“Poor man, he is slightly naive.”
“I do not know whether he is naive. I would say he tends to have a benevolent view of the world and the people around him. It is a good quality in the end. Look at us, we are both cynical, and we laugh too much.”
“That attitude has helped us avoid any trap—”
“That attitude has made us incapable of finding a young woman to love.”
Again, the colonel looked at his cousin. He had the impression that Darcy wished to share a confidence, but usually that was not the case between them.
“Are you blaming yourself for taking him away from Hertfordshire?”
“No, absolutely not. I still think that young lady was only after his money…”
“But…?” the colonel asked cautiously. He did not wish to press Darcy into a confession if he was not ready.
“But I never imagined that his infatuation was, rather, love. Two months of sorrow have cast a shadow on my judgement. In the end, why should I concern myself with a woman’s reasons for being attracted to him? Miss Bennet was certainly not Lady Helen. Perhaps she simply wished to marry, and she might have been a good wife to him. I discovered from Bingley’s sisters that she had been in London during this time, and they had never told him. And in the end, neither did I.”
“You are wrong and right at the same time. Take my case: I do not have the privilege of looking for love. My financial situation obliges me to seek an heiress. If I find one, I shall ask her to marry me, with or without affection. But I shall make every effort to be a loving husband and father. I shall look for love after marriage.”
“You say that could be Miss Bennet’s case, and that I was wrong to intervene?”
“Exactly—though you were also right in knowing that Bingley falls in love every six months. In my opinion, if his love is strong enough, he should go to Hertfordshire, with or without your advice, and see for himself whether Miss Bennet is the wife he wants. You should encourage him to find that answer for himself, and not from those around him.”
Darcy reflected on the colonel’s words. Left alone for some time—his cousin had some dances prearranged—he looked admiringly at Georgiana. She looked beautiful and elegant, a splendid young lady who would have made Lady Anne Darcy proud.
He had been apprehensive before her presentation at court, as no debutante was received if any shameful behaviour could be found in her past. He thought of Wickham, who could have damaged her reputation. Fortunately, Georgiana’s intended elopement took place in Ramsgate, and it seemed far enough from London not to produce any echo of gossip. He remembered again, with the same anger, that man who had almost destroyed Georgiana’s life. He had thought he would never see him again, only to find him in Hertfordshire using the same ruses on young women. Elizabeth seemed to be one of them, and for once, he was almost glad to discover that such a man had easily influenced her. It indicated a lack of judgement, in which case she was not the woman he thought her to be.
But all his efforts to forget her or to dim her memory were in vain. Not only could he not forget her, but that night’s ball was also a painful reminder of the one at Netherfield, when they had danced together. She was resplendent and unaffected at the same time. He remembered her bright eyes when she looked at him, and he wondered whether she had ever thought of him afterwards.
In some ways, Bingley was right. Apart from the richness, what was the difference between this gathering and the one at Netherfield?
“Did you like a certain lady from Hertfordshire more than any in this ballroom?” the colonel asked as soon as he returned. And Darcy could not help but be surprised at his cousin’s alacrity.
“It is still debatable,” he answered hesitantly. “I have looked around long enough. I need a family, a mistress at Pemberley, and it is difficult to decide.”
“You need…?”
