‘Come, Darcy,’ said he, ‘I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.’
‘I certainly shall not. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room, whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with,’ I said, not in a mood to be pleased with anything.
‘I would not be so fastidious as you are for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pretty girls in my life.’
‘You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,’ I reminded him, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.
‘Oh! she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say, very agreeable. Do let my ask my partner to introduce you.’
‘Which do you mean?’ I asked him, looking round. I noticed Miss Elizabeth Bennet, then, catching her eye, I was forced to look away. ‘She is tolerable,’ I admitted, ‘but not handsome enough to tempt me, and I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men.’
Caroline understood my feelings very well.
‘These people!’ she said to me. ‘They have no style and no fashion, and yet they are all so pleased with themselves! Do you know, I was forced to smile politely whilst Mary Bennet was described to me as the most accomplished girl in the neighbourhood. If she was half, nay one tenth, as accomplished as Georgiana I should be very surprised.’
‘But then that would be difficult,’ I said. ‘Georgiana is unusually gifted.’
‘Indeed she is. I dote on her,’ said Caroline. ‘I declare, she is quite like a sister to me.’
Perhaps in time she will really be a sister to Caroline. Not that I said anything of this to her, but Bingley is a good-natured man with an adequate fortune, and will make a good husband. I had not thought to arrange a marriage for Georgiana before she was one and twenty, but after the affair with George Wickham, I have begun to think that it would not be a bad thing to marry her sooner. Once wed to Bingley, she would be safe from scoundrels of Wickham’s stamp. I am not sure that Meryton would suit her, though. If Bingley shows any inclination to leave, I will encourage it. I would like to have her closer to me, in Derbyshire, or in Cheshire, perhaps. Then she could visit me in a few hours if she had a mind to.
We returned home at last.
‘I have never met with pleasanter people or prettier girls in my life,’ said Bingley, as we retired to the drawing-room. ‘Everyone was most kind and attentive. There was no formality, no stiffness. I soon felt myself acquainted with everyone in the room. As to Miss Bennet, I cannot conceive of an angel more beautiful.’
Caroline cast me a satirical glance. In Brighton, Bingley had told us that Miss Hart was the most entrancing creature he had ever seen. In London it had been Miss Pargeter. It seems that in Meryton, Miss Bennet is to be his choice.
‘She is a very sweet girl,’ Caroline allowed.
‘She is pretty,’ I said. It is always better to humour Bingley in these moods. ‘But she smiles too much.’
‘To be sure, she does smile too much,’ agreed Louisa, ‘but she is still a sweet girl. I believe we may make a friend of her whilst we are here, Caroline?’
‘By all means,’ said Caroline, adding, ‘We must have someone to help us while away the tedious hours, and to amuse us whilst the gentlemen are out.’
The only thing that lingers in my mind as I write, is the look I caught in Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s eye when I remarked that she was not handsome enough to tempt me to dance. If I did not know better, I would think it had been satirical. I am not quite easy that she should have overheard me, but it was not my intention that the words should reach her ears. Besides, it would be foolish to worry about her feelings. Her temperament is not delicate, and if she takes after her mother she will suffer no hurt. That abominable woman roundly condemned me for my chance remark, describing me to anyone who would listen as the most proud, disagreeable man in the world, and saying she hoped I would never come there again.
I never thought I would agree with a woman of her stamp, but on this occasion I find that our minds are as one.
Tuesday 15th October
Bingley and I examined the woods today. Whilst we were out, the Miss Bennets waited on Caroline and Louisa.
Friday 18th October
Whilst Bingley and I were out riding, Caroline and Louisa took the carriage to Longbourn and called on the Bennets. I believe they mean to make friends of the two eldest girls. God knows, there is little enough company for them here.
Saturday 19th October
A wet day. After being confined within doors it was almost a relief to go out to a dinner-party this evening. It was no better than the assembly, the people no more elegant and the conversation no more stimulating, but it had the advantage of providing novelty.
Bingley once again sat with Miss Jane Bennet. He has made her his flirt, and as her manners are as easy-going as his own, they make a good pair. She is not likely to be wounded by his attention, taking it in good part and seeing it as the agreeable diversion it is.
‘It is a shame the other Bennet girls do not have their eldest sister’s face or manner,’ remarked Caroline after dinner.
‘It is,’ I agreed.
‘I am not surprised you could not support the idea of standing up with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She has none of her sister’s beauty.’
‘She has hardly a good feature in her face,’ I replied, turning my eyes on her and studying her closely.
‘No, indeed,’ said Caroline.
‘Oh, come now, Darcy,’ said Bingley, who had joined us as he had relinquished Miss Bennet to one of her sisters. ‘She is a very pretty girl.’
‘She is unremarkable in every way,’ I replied.
‘Very well, have it your own way. She has not one tolerable thing about her.’
He laughed, and returned to Jane Bennet.
Caroline continued to criticize our neighbours. As she did so, my eyes were drawn again to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and I began to feel that I had not done her justice. Though she had not one good feature in her face, it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. They gave her an animation which I thought very agreeable. I found myself watching her, and as she stood up to leave the table I further discovered that her figure was light and pleasing.
She is still not handsome enough to tempt a man of my worth, but she has more beauty than I at first thought.
NOVEMBER
Monday 4th November
Another party. It was unavoidable, but I find I am not as ill-disposed to outings as I was. They provide a change from our usual intimate circle. Tonight’s party was at Sir William Lucas’s house, Lucas Lodge.
‘Be prepared to be bowed to every ten minutes,’ said Caroline, as we went into the house.
‘Every five minutes,’ said Louisa.
‘Sir William is a very agreeable person,’ said Bingley.
‘Dear Charles, you would think anyone agreeable if they allowed you to flirt with Miss Bennet at one of their gatherings,’ I said.
‘She is an angel,’ said Bingley, not in the least discomposed.
He soon found Miss Bennet. Mr Hurst danced with Caroline, and Louisa fell into conversation with Lady Lucas.
I noticed that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was there, talking to Colonel Forster. Without knowing what I was doing I drew close, and I could not help overhearing her conversation. There was that in her manner which rendered it playful and when she is being playful there is a certain lustre to her eyes. I remarked it, as I remarked the flush of animation that added beauty to her cheek. Her complexion is a healthy one, and her skin is lightly bronzed. It is perhaps not as fashionable as Caroline’s pallor, but it is pleasing all the same.
She soon left Colonel Forster’s side and sought out Miss Lucas. The two of them appeared to be friends. I was about to speak to her, feeling an urge to see t
he sparkle in her eye once again, when the lady herself challenged me.
‘Did you not think, Mr Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?’
‘With great energy,’ I replied, surprised, but not displeased, to be spoken to. ‘But it is a subject which always makes a lady energetic,’ I added.
‘You are severe on us.’
This was said with such a saucy look that I was compelled to smile. Her manners would not do in London, but there is something to be said for being in the country. One needs variety, after all.
‘It will be her turn soon to be teased,’ said Miss Lucas, turning to me. ‘I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows.’
She refused at first, saying that she did not want to play in front of those who must be used to hearing the very best musicians, but Miss Lucas teased her until she gave way.
Her performance was surprisingly good. Not by way of notes; I believe a great many of them were wrong. But there was a sweetness to the tone that sounded well to my ears.
I was beginning to warm towards her, indeed I was intending to continue our conversation, when she relinquished the pianoforte and by some chance – lucky or unlucky, I do not quite know which – her younger sister took her place. My smile froze on my face. I have never heard a more disastrous performance in my life, and I could not believe Miss Mary Bennet was exhibiting her lack of talent for so many people to hear. If I had had to listen to it one minute longer I believe I would have told her so.
Matters were made worse when the two youngest girls got up a dance with some of the officers. Their mother looked on, all smiles, as the youngest flirted with every officer in turn. How old is he? She does not look to be more than fifteen. She should still be in the schoolroom, not out in public where she can disgrace herself and her family.
Her behaviour banished any warm feelings I had been entertaining towards Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and I did not speak to her again.
‘What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr Darcy!’ said Sir William Lucas, coming up beside me. ‘There is nothing like dancing, after all. I consider it one of the first refinements of polished societies.’
‘Certainly sir,’ I replied, as my gaze rested on Miss Lydia Bennet, who was dancing without the least shred of decorum, ‘and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance.’
Sir William only smiled, and tormented me with a long conversation on the subject of dancing, asking me if I had ever danced at St James’s. I replied politely enough, but I thought that if he mentioned St James’s once more, I should be tempted to strangle him with his own garter. As my gaze travelled round the room, I saw Miss Elizabeth Bennet moving towards me. Despite her sisters’ shortcomings, I was struck once again by the grace of her movement, and I thought that, if there was one person in the room I should like to see dancing, it was she.
‘My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing?’ asked Sir William, as though reading my thoughts. ‘Mr Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, when so much beauty is before you.’
He took her hand, and surprised me by almost giving it to me. I had not thought of dancing with her myself, I had only thought of watching her, but I would have taken her hand if she had not surprised me by drawing back.
‘Indeed, Sir, I have not the slightest intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner,’ she said.
I found that I did not want to give up the unlooked-for treat.
‘Will you give me the honour of your hand?’ I asked, interested rather than otherwise by her reluctance to dance with me.
But again she refused.
Sir William tried to persuade her.
‘Though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half hour.’
A smile lit her eyes, and turning towards me, she said: ‘Mr Darcy is all politeness.’
It was a challenging smile, there was no doubt about it. Although she said that I was all politeness, she meant the reverse. I felt my desire to dance with her grow. She had set herself up as my adversary, and I felt an instinct to conquer her rise up inside me.
Why had she refused me? Because she had overheard me saying that she wasn’t handsome enough to tempt me at the Meryton ball? Of course! I found myself admiring her spirit. My ten thousand pounds a year meant nothing to her when compared with her desire to be revenged on me.
I watched her walk away from me, noticing the lightness of her step and the trimness of her figure, and trying to remember the last time I had been so well pleased.
‘I can guess the subject of your reverie,’ said Caroline, coming up beside me.
‘I should imagine not,’ I said.
‘You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner, in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity and yet the noise; the nothingness and yet the self-importance of all these people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!’
‘Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.’
Caroline smiled.
‘And what lady has the credit of inspiring such reflections?’ she asked, turning her gaze to my face.
‘Miss Elizabeth Bennet,’ I replied, as I watched her cross the room.
‘Miss Elizabeth Bennet!’ exclaimed she. ‘I am all astonishment. How long has she been such a favourite? And pray when am I to wish you joy?’
‘That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask,’ I told her. ‘A lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy.’
‘Nay, if you are so serious about it, I shall consider the matter as absolutely settled. You will have a charming mother-in-law, indeed, and of course she will be always at Pemberley with you.’
I let her speak. It is matter of perfect indifference to me what she says. If I wish to admire Miss Elizabeth Bennet, I shall do so, and not all Caroline’s sallies on fine eyes and mothers-in-law will prevent me.
Tuesday 12th November
Bingley and I dined with the officers this evening. There is a regiment stationed here, and they are for the most part well-educated and intelligent men. When we returned to Netherfield we found Miss Bennet at the house. Caroline and Louisa had invited her to dine. She had ridden over on horseback, and an unlucky downpour had soaked her through. Not surprisingly, she had taken a chill.
Bingley was at once alarmed, insisting she should stay the night. His sisters concurred. She retired to bed early, and Bingley was distracted for the rest of the evening.
I was reminded of the fact that he is still only three and twenty, and so he is still at an unsettled age. He is presently concerned for Miss Bennet’s health, and yet by Christmas he will be in London, where he will no doubt forget all about her.
Wednesday 13th November
Miss Bennet was still unwell this morning, and Caroline and Louisa insisted she stay at Netherfield until she is full recovered. Whether they would have insisted quite so vehemently if they had not been bored is doubtful, but as the weather is poor, and there is nothing for them to do but stay indoors, they were eager to persuade her to remain.
Bingley insisted on sending for Mr Jones, the apothecary, as soon as he knew she was no better.
‘Is it really necessary?’ I asked him. ‘Your sisters seem to think it is nothing more than a sore throat and a headache.’
‘There is no telling where a sore throat and a headache might lead,’ said Bingley.
A note was dispatched to Mr Jones, and anot
her to Miss Bennet’s family, and we settled down to breakfast.
We were still in the breakfast parlour some time later when there was a disturbance in the hall. Caroline and Louisa looked up from their cups of chocolate, turning enquiring glances on each other and then on their brother.
‘Who would come calling at this hour, and in this weather?’ asked Caroline.
Her question was soon answered as the door opened and Miss Elizabeth Bennet was shown in. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks were flushed. Her clothes showed signs of her walk, and her stout boots were covered in mud.
‘Miss Bennet!’ exclaimed Mr Hurst, looking at her as though she were an apparition.
‘Miss Bennet!’ echoed Caroline. ‘You have not come on foot?’ she asked, appalled, staring at her boots, and at her petticoats, which were six inches deep in mud.
‘Yes,’ she said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
‘To walk three miles so early in the day!’ said Caroline, with a horrified glance towards Louisa.
‘And in such dirty weather!’ exclaimed Louisa, returning her look.
Bingley was troubled by no such astonishment.
‘Miss Elizabeth Bennet, how good of you to come,’ he said, jumping up and shaking her by the hand. ‘Your sister is very ill, I fear.’
Caroline had by now recovered from her astonishment.
‘Really, Charles, do not distress her,’ she said. She turned to Miss Bennet. ‘It is nothing but a headache and a sore throat. She did not sleep very well, but she has risen this morning. She is feverish, though, and she is not well enough to leave her room.’
‘You must be cold and wet,’ said Bingley, glancing at Elizabeth with concern.
Mr. Darcy's Diary Page 3