Darcy’s Story

by Janet Aylmer

  Almost before he knew what he had done, Darcy had written a swift note to his cousin Fitzwilliam, who was in the north for a few weeks before travelling to town.

  His cousin’s reply came by return on Friday.

  “Dear Darcy

  Your enthusiasm for travelling to Kent to see our aunt is most commendable. I shall, as you ask, arrange to be in town three weeks earlier than we agreed, so that we can be at Rosings in time for Easter. Forgive this short note— written in haste.

  James Fitzwilliam.”

  Darcy wrote to his aunt to say that he planned to arrive for his visit to Kent in the week before the festival, and received a letter within a few days welcoming the idea.

  His cousin reached London in time for them to leave for Kent some eight days before Easter. On the journey from town, Fitzwilliam asked Darcy how he had been passing his time since they last met. Darcy, without naming his friend, recounted his success in separating Bingley from an unfortunate alliance that could have damaged his situation for life. He took pains to emphasise that his motives had been allied with the knowledge that the affections of neither of the parties had been fully engaged, and so that the whole affair had been for the best.

  Fitzwilliam commended Darcy for his foresight and rapid action, saying that, as the younger son of an Earl, he would need to have regard to fortune and position himself when he married. His cousin added that, now that he had attained his thirtieth year, marriage was a matter to which Fitzwilliam might need to give some more serious attention.

  13

  Thus it was that Darcy and his cousin arrived in Kent at the beginning of April, with Easter only a few days away.

  He had apprised Fitzwilliam that there might be more enjoyable company than usual awaiting them at Rosings. On the day after their arrival, the rector Mr. Collins arrived to pay his respects. Darcy found him in every way as curious and pompous as he had at Netherfield the previous autumn.

  However, having had a few hours in the company of Lady Catherine and their cousin Anne the previous evening, Fitzwilliam needed little persuading to walk back with Darcy to the parsonage in Hunsford with Mr. Collins, to pay their respects to the rector’s new wife and her visitors. Their approach having been announced by the door-bell, Darcy and his cousin found the former Miss Charlotte Lucas a pleasant contrast to her husband’s verbosity. Her younger sister, Maria, and Miss Elizabeth Bennet curtseyed to the visitors, but said nothing on the introduction to Darcy himself.

  Darcy ventured a compliment to Mrs. Collins on the house and garden, but was more interested to listen to the conversation between his cousin and her friend. The latter seemed to Darcy to be much as he remembered her, as his cousin’s ease of address and ready manner led Miss Bennet into conversation with him. Her lively manner and sense of humour were soon displayed, and he found himself engrossed in their discussion.

  At length, however, Darcy enquired of Miss Bennet about the health of her family. She answered him in the usual way, and then added “My eldest sister has been in town these three months. Have you never happened to see her there?”

  Darcy was uneasily aware of his own embarrassment as he answered that he had never been so fortunate as to meet Miss Bennet. The subject was pursued no further, and Darcy soon made his excuses and went away with Fitzwilliam.

  Over the next few days, his cousin called at the parsonage several times, but Darcy refused to join him, jealous that Fitzwilliam’s more easy manners would show his own at a disadvantage. As a consequence, he was only able to glimpse Miss Bennet at church.

  However, no sooner had Darcy been pleased to find that his aunt did not intend to see much of Mr. and Mrs. Collins whilst her nephews were staying, than he found himself wishing the opposite, so that he could encounter one of their visitors.

  However, it took several carefully placed suggestions to bring it about that, by Easter-day, almost a week after his arrival, an invitation was issued for the party from Hunsford to spend the evening at Rosings after leaving church.

  Mr. and Mrs. Collins with their guests joined Lady Catherine’s party in the drawing room. Her ladyship, however, gave them little attention, speaking to her nephews and especially to Darcy, much more than to any other person in the room.

  However, Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them; since anything was a welcome relief to him at Rosings; and Mrs. Collins’s pretty friend, Miss Bennet, seemed to have caught his fancy. Thus he sat by her, talking agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying at home, of new books and music, so that Miss Bennet gave Darcy the appearance of having never been half so well entertained in that room before. He himself was full of feelings that, if they had been more familiar, would have been recognised as jealousy.

  She and his cousin conversed with so much spirit and flow, as to draw the attention of Lady Catherine herself, as well as that of Darcy. Lady Catherine was more visibly put out at not being the centre of attention as she was used to, and she called out to his cousin.

  “What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is.”

  “We are speaking of music, Madam,” said he, making a resigned face to Darcy, when no longer able to avoid a reply.

  “Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I must have my share in the conversation, if you are speaking of music. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have performed delightfully.”

  Then turning to Darcy, she continued, “How does Georgiana get on?”

  “She is most competent for her age, Madam, and practices as often as she can.”

  “I am very glad to hear such a good account of her,” said Lady Catherine; “and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to excel, if she does not practise a great deal.”

  “I assure you, Madam,” he replied, “that she does not need such advice. She practises very constantly.”

  “So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I next write to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account. I often tell young ladies, that no excellence in music is to be acquired, without constant practise.”

  “I have told Miss Bennet several times, that she will never play really well, unless she practises more; and though Mrs. Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome, as I have often told her, to come to Rosings every day, and play on the piano-forte in Mrs. Jenkinson’s room. She would be in nobody’s way, you know, in that part of the house.”

  Darcy did not answer, since even a man of his consequence could recognise the incivility of this remark.

  When coffee was over, Fitzwilliam reminded Miss Bennet of having promised to play to him. As she sat down directly to the instrument, he drew a chair near her. Darcy would have joined them, but was detained by his aunt for many minutes. Eventually, she was distracted by a conversation with Mr. Collins, and Darcy was able to move away and join his cousin so as to observe Miss Bennet at the pianoforte.

  At the first convenient pause, she turned to him with a smile, and said,

  “You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? But I will not be alarmed though your sister does play so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me.”

  Darcy was cheered by this reversion to the playful manner in which she had sometimes addressed him in Hertfordshire.

  “I shall not say that you are mistaken,” he replied, “because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know, that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which in fact are not your own.”

  Miss Bennet laughed at th
is picture of herself, and said to Fitzwilliam, “Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so well able to expose my real character, in a part of the world, where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit.”

  Then turning back to Darcy, she said,

  “Indeed, Mr. Darcy, it is very ungenerous in you to mention all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire and, give me leave to say, very impolitic too, for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such things may come out, as will shock your relations to hear.”

  This reply and manner of speaking stirred in him feelings that were familiar, and far from unwelcome.

  “I am not afraid of you,” said he, with good humour.

  “Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,” cried Fitzwilliam. “I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.”

  Darcy awaited her next words with little apprehension, since she had smiled at him again, and that was worth any degree of discomfort that he was likely to suffer.

  “You shall hear then, but prepare yourself for something very dreadful,” said Miss Bennet. “The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball, and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four dances! I am sorry to pain you, but so it was. He danced only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy, you cannot deny the fact.”

  Darcy’s mind went back immediately to the assembly at Meryton, and his rejection of Bingley’s suggestion that he should dance with Miss Elizabeth. In his embarrassment, he replied rather stiffly.

  “I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party.”

  “True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ballroom.” She smiled again at Darcy, before turning to his cousin.

  “Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders.”

  However, Darcy intervened, for he was more than reluctant to lose her attention.

  “Perhaps,” he said, “I should have judged better, had I sought an introduction, but I am ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers.”

  “Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?” said Miss Bennet, still addressing his cousin Fitzwilliam. “Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?”

  “I can answer your question,” said Fitzwilliam, “without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.”

  “I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,” said Darcy, “of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.”

  “My fingers,” said Miss Bennet, “do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women’s do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault, because I would not take the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman’s of superior execution.”

  Darcy smiled, for there was no denying the justice of her remark.

  “You are perfectly right. You have employed your time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you, can think anything wanting.”

  He hesitated for a moment, and then added, “We neither of us perform to strangers.”

  He would have wished to continue the conversation further, but they were interrupted, as Lady Catherine called out to know of what they were talking.

  Miss Bennet immediately began playing again as Lady Catherine approached, and, after listening for a few minutes, his aunt said to Darcy,

  “Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss, if she practised more, and could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne’s. Anne would have been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn.”

  Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Miss Bennet’s performance, mixing with them many more instructions. Darcy looked at the lady to see how she took this and the comments that followed on playing the instrument, but the performer received them with forbearance. At the request of the gentlemen, she remained at the instrument till her lady-ship’s carriage was ready to take the party home to Hunsford.

  When their aunt had retired for the night, Fitzwilliam remarked to his cousin, “Miss Bennet seems to bring out the best in you, Darcy! I have rarely seen you as animated in company as you were tonight.”

  “You did not seem indifferent yourself,” said Darcy, seeking to redirect his cousin’s attention. “But remember, Fitzwilliam, that she comes from a family with no fortune, and very limited connections.”

  “She is not for me, you mean,” said his cousin regretfully. “But you are right, the younger son of an Earl must marry for money. At least, that consideration need not worry you, Darcy.”

  “You imagine more than there is.”

  “I hope so,” Fitzwilliam replied, “for I have a strong impression that our aunt has other plans in mind for you and, as we both know, she likes to have her own way.”

  To this, Darcy thought it wise to make no reply.

  14

  The following morning, Darcy went for a walk in the woods to the north of Rosings. Despite himself, and contrary to any intention of which he was consciously aware, after another half an hour he found himself ringing the bell at the parsonage.

  To his surprise, the other two ladies were absent in the village, and he found Miss Bennet alone, writing a letter.

  Having been invited to sit, he found this uncomfortable. On standing, he walked about the room, but was not at ease and, without his cousin Fitzwilliam to provide conversation, he found that he had little to say.

  At last, Miss Bennet made some enquiries after the family at Rosings.

  Then, they again seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. Finally, Miss Bennet said, “How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last November, Mr. Darcy! It must have been a most agreeable surprise to Mr. Bingley to see you all after him so soon; for, if I recollect right, he went but the day before.”

  She paused as though for a reply, but he could think of none, painfully aware that he was not best at untruths, and unable to formulate anything that might not compromise his role in the matter.

  At length, she went on, “He and his sisters were well, I hope, when you left London.”

  Awkwardly he said, “Perfectly so, I thank you.”

  After a short pause, she added, “I think I have understood that Mr. Bingley has not much idea of ever returning to Netherfield again?”

  Darcy replied, “I have never heard him say so.”

  But then not wishing to imply any intention by Bingley of renewing his friendship with Miss Jane Bennet, Darcy went on, “But it is probable that he may spend very little of his time there in future. He has many friends, and he is at a time of life when friends and engagements are continually increasing.”

  He found it difficult to gauge her expression as she said, “If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for the neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for then we might possibly get a settled family there. But perhaps Mr. Bingley did not take the house so much for the convenience of the neighbourhood as for his own, and we must expect him to keep or quit it on the same principle.”

  “I should not be surprised,” said Darcy, “if he were to give it up, as soon as any eligible purchaser offers.”

  She made no answer.

  After a further silence, Darcy tried to make some other conversation.

  “This seems a very comfortable house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr. Collins first came to Hunsford.”

&n
bsp; “I believe she did, and I am sure she could not have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful object.” She smiled a little at last as she said this.

  He tried to continue the conversation by referring to her friend.

  “Mr. Collins appears very fortunate in his choice of a wife.”

  “Yes, indeed; his friends may well rejoice in his having met with one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted him, or have made him happy if they had. My friend has an excellent understanding, though I am not certain that I consider her marrying Mr. Collins as the wisest thing she ever did. She seems perfectly happy, however, and in a prudential light, it is certainly a very good match for her.”

  Almost without knowing what he said, he went on,

  “It must be very agreeable to her to be settled within so easy a distance of her own family and friends.”

  “An easy distance do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles.”

  “And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day’s journey,” Darcy replied. “Yes, I call it a very easy distance.”

  She seemed determined not to agree with him. “I should never have considered the distance as one of the advantages of the match. I should never have said Mrs. Collins was settled near her family.”

  With the distance from Hertfordshire to Pemberley suddenly in his mind, he pressed on, “It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire. Any thing beyond the very neighbourhood of Longbourn, I suppose, would appear far.”

  He thought that she might have similar thoughts in her mind, as she blushed as she answered, “I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near her family. The far and the near must be relative, and depend on many varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the expense of travelling unimportant, distance becomes no evil.”