The Darcy Monologues: A romance anthology of Pride and Prejudice short stories in Mr. Darcy's own words

by Joana Starnes

  The race ceased only when we arrived at the stables. By then, Duke was lathered from the exertion, but I felt more alive, more spirited than in a long while. I abandoned my beaver and coat to an awaiting footman and ambled toward the garden. I was home. At last.

  I took the path by the river, to admire more of the beauties that surrounded me. I breathed deeply, inhaling the serenity of Pemberley and closed my eyes, enjoying the peace. When I opened them, the entire sky collapsed on my shoulders, and I almost knelt under its weight at the vision before me. I remained still, the beating of my heart thrumming through my entire body.

  It was not a spectre bursting from my restless dreams. It was as true as it was agonising to see Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the woman who had invaded my mind and soul, walking toward me at Pemberley.

  “Mr. Darcy!”

  * * *

  Profound astonishment struck me silent and unmoving. I heard her incredulous voice but was not certain if I answered her. She was within twenty yards of me. I had not missed her intention to turn away and I wondered what she could be doing there. My eyes instantly met hers, and I saw her cheeks colour whilst I felt my own face burn. I noticed a fashionably dressed lady and gentleman approaching her; however, my attention returned to Elizabeth in an instant.

  Feeling all the embarrassment for my unseemly attire, I exchanged a quick glance with Elizabeth, and a battle began between my mind and my soul. I wished nothing but to vanish into the house while joy raced my heart and I prayed for the strength to stand still. I gathered my courage, tugged at my waistcoat, and strode towards the party then bowed to Elizabeth.

  “Miss Bennet . . . what a surprise. Your family is in good health, I hope?” My tone was hardly composed, but I hoped I sounded at least civil.

  “I . . . we . . . I am travelling with my uncle and aunt . . . we did

  not. . . . It is indeed a surprise to see you too, sir. Yes, my family is in excellent health.” Her anxiety was apparent in her eyes and the blushing of her cheeks was now replaced by pallor. She seemed breathless. The gleam in her eyes, the smiles, the teasing voice were replaced by civility. “We did not expect to see you here, sir. . . . Your housekeeper told us you were not expected until tomorrow. And we inquired in Lambton and everybody ensured us that you were not here. . . . Otherwise, I would never have dared . . .”

  Her incoherent speech was less impressive than the expression on her face and the inflections in her voice. I understood that she struggled to tell me more than the words allowed, but my previous faulty understanding of her feelings forbade me to assume too much. However, the obvious could not be rejected. She was embarrassed, ashamed, and rightfully so. To come to my estate after everything that had happened was—

  “My aunt grew up in Lambton and she has spoken highly of Pemberley. She insisted on me seeing it. If not for her I would not

  have . . . we did not know . . .” Words tumbled from her trembling lips and her hands clasped tightly to her reticule.

  She had come to Pemberley at her relatives’ insistence. She had been convinced I was away. I should have been away, and had I not hurried to leave London earlier I would have never met her. I could not fault her for her appearance. Many day-trippers visited Pemberley this time of year. She had come believing in my absence, not my presence.

  “We beg your forgiveness for the intrusion, Mr. Darcy. We shall leave now,” Elizabeth murmured, turning hesitantly.

  She looked abashed, distressed. Perhaps even regretful. Perhaps only at that moment did she realise what it meant to be the mistress of Pemberley. What did she think when she understood she could have been the mistress of all before her? At that moment, had I felt less, I might have had my revenge; my resentment might have found its gratification.

  And yet, as I studied her carefully, as I used to do in Hertfordshire and Kent, I felt all the mortification that troubled her. I wanted only to relieve her anguish. Her shoulders fell under the weight of my scrutiny and her eyes lowered to the ground.

  My heart broke. This time not because of her, but for her. I could not permit her to feel humiliation in front of her relatives. I would never forget her present mien and would never forgive myself for causing it. I could not overlook her discomfort an instant longer. “Miss Bennet, would you do me the pleasure of introducing me to your relatives?”

  I hoped my voice was welcoming; she turned toward me, her bewilderment and disbelief impossible to miss. “I . . . yes, of course . . . Mr. Darcy, these are Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. They live in London, near Cheapside,” she added and for an instant, I recognised a wisp of Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s wry tone. She had not forgotten how Miss Bingley and I had commented about her relatives in trade nor my tirade about the unworthiness of her family during my proposal.

  “. . . had you behaved more gentlemanlike manner.”

  I bowed and offered a polite smile. “Mr. Gardiner, Mrs. Gardiner, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am glad you decided to visit Pemberley and I trust you will not be disappointed in it.”

  “We are honoured to make your acquaintance, Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Gardiner answered. “Indeed, we are amazed at the beauty of your estate. I can safely declare it is one of the finest in England.”

  “The finest,” Mrs. Gardiner said with genuine delight on her face. “Sir, I must confess that I grew up in Lambton, and I have always admired Pemberley from afar as a child. Now that I have seen a little bit of the house, I can say my imagination did not do it justice.”

  It was my turn to be surprised. The Gardiners looked like impeccably fashionable people, and they expressed themselves admirably. Did I also recognise relief on Elizabeth’s face as she witnessed our amiable conversation? Did she still believe I would be rude and indifferent? Of course she did. She had shared her opinion of me clearly enough at Hunsford.

  I tried to widen my smile. “I am pleased to hear your positive account, Mrs. Gardiner.” Smoothing the silk of my waistcoat, crushingly aware of all the dust and sweat from my travels and all the awkwardness at such a meeting, I continued, “I have only just arrived from London. I must beg your forgiveness, but I must leave you now. I hope you will stay to continue your tour of the estate. I would suggest you follow the path near the water and take a stroll in the wood nearby. There are some fine trees and lovely flowers to admire. Soon enough, you will reach the highest place, which will offer you the finest view of the valley, the hills, the stream, and the house itself. I believe it worth your effort.”

  “Thank you, sir, we will do just that,” Mr. Gardiner answered.

  I bowed again, and I departed as quickly as possible. My neck prickled as I imagined Elizabeth following me with her eyes, and I needed all my strength not to turn around. What was she thinking of me now? Will they continue the tour? What if they leave? Were they staying in Lambton? What a fool I have been not to inquire.

  When I was certain I had disappeared from their sight, I almost ran inside. Mrs. Reynolds greeted me with her usual enthusiasm. I responded briefly and then hurried to my apartment, where a footman was unpacking my bag.

  “Wilford, help me change. I do not have a moment to lose.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Indeed, my mind and body had received a dose of energy that made me dizzy. I was nervous but an enormous burden had been removed from my shoulders, and the deep fog that had kept my mind prisoner had vanished. I could think. I could breathe. I could even smile.

  I had little patience whilst Wilford searched for proper clothes. Staring through the glazing to the lake, I could not see the visitors and attempted to guess where they might be—hoping they had not left the park.

  Astonishing! I had travelled to Pemberley to escape memories of Elizabeth Bennet only to meet her at Pemberley.

  Now, all my thoughts were fixed on that one spot of the estate, wherever she might be. I longed to know her mind and what she thought of me. Had her opinion of me changed since last April? Did she give any importance to my letter? Was she still angry with me for the sorrow
I had caused her sister? Did she approve of Pemberley?

  Surely, she was surprised by my civility. But what did she think of my wild appearance? Dear Lord, how she had seen me dishevelled upon arrival! That was shameful indeed. What had made me take off my coat? Did she feel more pain or pleasure in seeing me? Did she feel any pleasure at all?

  If she loathed my memory, surely, she would not have come to visit my estate. Even if she was certain about my absence, she would not have approached a place that brought her remorse.

  By the time I was refreshed and properly attired, my decision was made. I would do everything in my power to make a favourable second impression. I exited the house, looking for the visitors.

  My spirit lifted when I observed them on the opposite bank of the river. Their progress was slow, Mrs. Gardiner holding onto her husband’s arm. She was certainly not a great walker, I mused. Elizabeth appeared distressed, looking around absently and turning often to her relatives.

  When she noticed my approach, surprise held her still again. Would she prefer my absence?

  Upon reaching the party, I was content to see their enthusiastic greeting. Of Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner’s feelings about my presence, I had no doubts.

  “Mr. Darcy, I cannot congratulate you enough on this wonderful property,” Mr. Gardiner said. “We are only desolate that we could not see more of it. We intended to take a tour of the entire park, but we were told that it would be a walk of more than ten miles.”

  “True. It is quite a long walk. Perhaps Miss Bennet would not mind taking it, but for most people it would be too long.”

  I did not know what caused me to make such a teasing remark. I glanced to her only to witness her countenance blush most becomingly. Although I could not claim any proficiency in reading her thoughts, she did not look displeased.

  Mr. Gardiner laughed. “True. Lizzy is a great walker, almost as accomplished as being a great reader.”

  I decided that it was safer to turn my attention toward Mr. Gardiner and said, “Yes, I am familiar with Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s excellent walking skills and her love for reading.” At the guest’s puzzled expression, I chanced a look at Elizabeth and this time I caught the amusement in her eyes. “I had the pleasure of Miss Elizabeth’s acquaintance at Netherfield when she took care of Miss Bennet. I was quite impressed with her determination to walk three miles to be at the side of her sister, as well as with her obvious passion for books.”

  “I surely do not deserve such praise,” Elizabeth intervened hesitantly. “But I confess I would gladly walk ten miles for the pleasure of admiring all the beauties of your estate.”

  I felt the beginnings of a smile as her embarrassment seemed to dissipate. A smile hinted at her lips, too, and her eyes brightened.

  “Well, I fear, this will be the split within our party. Mrs. Gardiner surely wishes to rest here a moment. Whilst Lizzy rambles amongst the picturesque, I will gladly stay right here and glimpse the trout. If only I had my fishing tackle with me, I would want nothing more.”

  They laughed together, some more at ease than others. Mr. Gardiner seemed gentleman-like and I would surely enjoy spending more time in his company. My disposition brightened with each passing moment.

  “Perhaps we could find a way to ensure equal entertainment for everyone. If you happen to remain longer in the neighbourhood, it would be my pleasure to have you come and fish at Pemberley, sir. I will happily supply you with fishing tackle and will point out those parts of the stream where there is usually more sport. I enjoy fishing myself. As for the ladies, we can offer them a small phaeton and they can spend as much time as they like visiting the park.”

  At the stunned faces in front of me, I could not help but wonder how low—or frightening—was their opinion of me that they took such an invitation so hesitantly? Had Elizabeth spoken of me poorly to her relatives?

  “Mr. Darcy, this is beyond any of our expectations,” Mr. Gardiner finally replied. “We could not possibly intrude . . . we understand you expect a large party of friends tomorrow. . . . But we are deeply honoured and flattered by your attention. . . .”

  “Sir, rest assured that I never issue an invitation to people whose company do not give me pleasure. Miss Bennet can testify to that.” At that, I could not help but notice Elizabeth bite her lip as if to stifle her own laughter.

  But her uncle’s joy was unrestrained. “In this case, sir, I shall gladly accept your invitation. To be honest, I do not intend to disturb anyone but your fish.”

  I laughed and turned to the ladies, expectantly. Elizabeth averted her eyes, allowing her aunt to answer, although it was Elizabeth’s opinion that mattered the most to me.

  “I do have fixed engagements with my friends in Lambton, but it will be my greatest pleasure to accept your generous invitation, Mr. Darcy. And you, Lizzy?”

  I stole a look at Elizabeth. She still would not meet my eyes.

  “Yes, of course. . . . It is a very generous offer, sir.”

  “Excellent.” I motioned for the ladies to take the lead, while Mr. Gardiner and I followed. Mr. Gardiner peppered me with questions about the estate and I struggled to attend his conversation, eager as I was to speak with Elizabeth.

  After walking some time in this manner, Mrs. Gardiner declared she was fatigued and found Elizabeth's arm inadequate to her support and consequently preferred her husband's.

  With no little eagerness, I took her place by her niece, and we walked on together. My steps turned hesitant and my breathing irregular. She smelled of rose petals and sunshine, and her proximity warmed me more than the summer day. I knew I must speak, but I feared the words would betray my emotions.

  “Mr. Darcy, I . . .” Her voice was timid, then stopped as she seemed to gather her courage. “Sir, please allow me to apologise again for our unexpected appearance. Even before we left Bakewell, we understood that you were not immediately expected in the country; and then your housekeeper informed us that you would certainly not be here till tomorrow. Otherwise, I would never have dared to trespass upon your privacy."

  “Miss Bennet, I beg you not to distress yourself. It was indeed arranged that we would arrive no sooner than tomorrow but I came a day early. I have some business to complete.”

  Then, with a will of their own, before my mind had time to caution against such imprudence, words tumbled from my mouth. “I confess I am glad that all these coincidences occurred. Embarrassed at first, troubled still, but pleased.”

  As soon as I finished, my heart stopped, too. Her answer came after a brief hesitation, her voice still trembling. “I am pleased too. . . . Embarrassed . . . troubled . . . incredulous to receive more attention than I could ever expect. . . . But glad . . .”

  My heart must have started beating again as a wave of exultation—such as I did not believe possible to experience—spread through me, and I could feel the truth of her confession.

  She was pleased. Happy to be at Pemberley. With me.

  We continued to walk in silence, as the short dialogue drained all our remaining bravery. The distance between us slowly diminished and I was exceedingly aware that, if I but stretched my hand, I might have easily touched hers. The marvel was not lost on me that she had continued at my side.

  When the silence became too heavy to bear, I gave her news I hoped would please her. "There are a few friends that will join me tomorrow and among them are some who will claim an acquaintance with you.”

  She nodded.

  “Mr. Bingley and his sisters." I sensed her tension and understood her uneasiness, as I remembered the last time Mr. Bingley's name had been mentioned between us. It was my turn—my duty—to say something more. She deserved at least a hint of my regrets for my past behaviour. “Mr. Bingley and I have not seen each other as often as we used to. . . . He . . . neither of us was in our usual disposition in the last months,” I confessed.

  “Oh . . . I see . . .”

  “Bingley will be very pleased to see you.”

  “As will I to
see him.” Her hand brushed along the fragrant lavender, adding to the intoxicating scent of her presence.

  “I imagined as much. I know you always held him in esteem and rightfully so. He is one of the best men I know.” The conversation glided to a dangerous point and I was aware of the peril, but I wanted her to understand that I took on the entire responsibility for what had happened between my friend and her sister. “He can hardly be held culpable when he has been misinformed.”

  After an unbearable silence, Elizabeth said, “I do have an excellent opinion of Mr. Bingley, and I value his qualities. However, as you once listed your manifest of ideals in accomplished ladies, I will say that a true gentleman must show determination, strength, and self-confidence and he must fight for what he believes in. A man who is easily distracted from his purpose has, in my opinion, room for improvement.”

  The answer surprised and puzzled me. I understood that Elizabeth blamed Bingley too for her sister’s distress, but did it mean that she changed her mind about placing all the guilt on me as well? Had her resentment towards me diminished? Or was I again misinterpreting her words?

  “As I say, I will be delighted to see Mr. Bingley again,” she concluded.

  A few moments later, Elizabeth turned to admire the lake. I could not see her expression, but her posture was so different from earlier. Her shoulders, her head, the line of her back, the locks of hair escaping the back of her bonnet. . . . She was indeed the Elizabeth Bennet I knew—yet altered in a way that I still feared to hope for.

  “This place is wonderful . . . it is like a fairy tale. . . . The house is magnificent too, but the way nature surrounds it enhances its beauty. I wonder that you wish to ever leave it. I would not trade one day here for the entire season in London.”

  By the end of her statement, her voice turned into a whisper and I easily observed her body tense. I smiled at the nape of her neck, certain that she was troubled by her own sentiment and uncertain of my impression. After all, she was the one who refused my offer to be mistress of Pemberley.