The Confession of Fitzwilliam Darcy

by Mary Street

  The Confession of Fitzwilliam Darcy

  Mary Street

  Contents

  Title Page

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  By the Same Author

  Copyright

  One

  I KNOW NOT HOW Miss Elizabeth Bennet contrived to bring herself so much to my notice throughout the course of that evening.

  It could not have been my own doing, for I did not admire the lady and I had no wish to flatter her with any appearance of attention. Indeed, had I chosen to watch one of the Bennets it would have been her sister Jane, who far surpassed her in beauty. Yet time and time again, wherever my gaze chanced to alight, Miss Elizabeth Bennet happened to be there.

  I saw her in the dance, with successive partners. I saw her talking to Sir William Lucas. Later, I saw her again in conversation with Miss Charlotte Lucas. Still later, I found myself watching her assisting Miss Maria Lucas with some adjustment to her gown.

  At one point, I even found myself moving towards the lady. I stopped abruptly and turned away, determined she should have no more of my attention, whatever arts she employed.

  I spent the next hour steadfastly refusing to glance in her direction: instead, I watched Bingley dancing with other ladies.

  This occupation became irksome.

  There I was, listening to loud, indifferent music, watching self-important strangers at their ungainly dancing, wholly indignant to find myself in such society, and out of humour with Bingley for bringing me to spend an evening here, at an unfashionable country assembly.

  I am a gentleman of Quality: I am not accustomed to attending public assemblies and I had not agreed to attend this one in Meryton with any expectation of pleasure.

  I was here because Bingley, with his usual impetuosity, had taken a lease on an estate at Netherfield Park: shortly after he had established himself, he invited me to stay with him.

  ‘You must come, Darcy,’ he had said. ‘Now, I may repay some of the hospitality I have had from you, at Pemberley. There will be some good sport, I promise you.’

  He had invited his sisters, also. Our party had come from town only yesterday. Whilst he was showing me my way around the house, Bingley had confessed himself impatient to become better acquainted with his neighbours.

  In every neighbourhood there were families who had daughters to be disposed of in marriage. Since Bingley and I were both single gentlemen in possession of good fortune, we could hardly escape the acquaintance of his neighbours.

  I said as much. ‘You may depend upon it,’ I told him, ‘we will be invited to sample all the delights local society has to offer without having to exert ourselves at all.’

  His sisters agreed, telling me he had been visited by several of the local gentry very soon after his arrival.

  Among them was a Mr Bennet who, according to Miss Bingley, had five daughters. ‘And all of them unmarried.’

  ‘In which case,’ said Mrs Hurst, with a hint of malice, ‘we must give him due credit for not being the first to call!’

  Bingley acknowledged his sister’s remarks with a faint smile. ‘The Bennets are one of the principle families in the neighbourhood,’ he told me. ‘Their estate is at Longbourn, about three miles away. What is more, ‘he went on with an air of anticipation, ‘I have it on good authority that the two eldest sisters are the most beautiful women in Hertfordshire. I hope to make their acquaintance tomorrow evening.’

  That was when I learnt he had engaged for our party to attend a public assembly.

  I was never more annoyed.

  ‘It is fortunate indeed that you wait until we have arrived in Hertfordshire before breaking this news,’ I said grimly. ‘Had I known of it before I left town, I would have recalled a pressing matter of business. Bingley, how could you?’

  Bingley chuckled. ‘I know you do not care for dancing, Darcy, but it will do no harm to show ourselves in company. I can think of no better way to introduce ourselves in society.’

  ‘In my opinion, you would make a better beginning by restraining yourself and showing a little reserve.’

  He would not, of course. Bingley had never learnt how to repel, how to put frost between himself and others. Never did he seem to feel the necessity. He was agreeable, even to the most insufferable.

  Caroline Bingley contrived to agree with both of us: she had no doubt most of the neighbours would be intolerable: attending a country assembly would be a tedious way of spending an evening. We could, however, take the opportunity to form an opinion of local society, observe our neighbours, discover who might be encouraged and determine who should not.

  ‘Should our own judgement incline us to be too favourable to anyone,’ she added with a smile, ‘we shall rely upon yours, Mr Darcy, to correct us.’

  ‘Well, the rest of you can sit in judgement and be as aloof and disdainful as you choose,’ said Bingley. ‘For my part, I mean to dance with every pretty girl I can find.’

  Bingley was determined upon attending the assembly: spending an evening in such a way was much against my own inclinations, yet I knew that had I determined to remain at home, Miss Bingley would have chosen to keep me company.

  I had reasons for avoiding a situation of that nature.

  There was nothing to be done about it: I must accompany them to the Meryton assembly. I had expected to be bored. I had not expected to be so provoked by the presence of one woman.

  Now, Miss Elizabeth Bennet was sitting down without a partner, not far from where I was standing.

  I refused to look at her again.

  Instead, I reviewed the evening from the beginning.

  I had not liked the way the buzz of conversation died away as we entered the assembly rooms: I had not liked the sensation of being stared at by strangers. And, as I occupied myself in finding seats for the ladies of our party, I had very much disliked what I chanced to overhear.

  ‘… Darcy … friend of Mr Bingley … from Derbyshire…. A single gentleman … vast estates…. Pemberley … yes, that Darcy. Some relation to the Fitzwilliams you know…. Such a handsome young man … ten thousand a year….’

  It was always the same. By some process, a whole roomful of strangers could know everything within five minutes.

  I had taken some wine and stood back against the wall, regarding the assembled company without enthusiasm. From somewhere close by, I heard a clear feminine voice. ‘Property, riches, and the good sense to be handsome! He must be in want of a wife!’

  I stiffened, irked by this evidence that already I was an object of interest to a designing female.

  Her words were answered by a soft, ladylike chuckle. ‘Oh, Lizzy!’

  The lady who found ‘Lizzy’ diverting was, I discovered, the only woman in the room who was worth a second glance. She was tall, graceful, with perfect classical features and hair the colour of ripe corn. Her eyes were blue and her mouth was smiling with a most pleasing serenity. This, unless I was very much mistaken, was one of the famous Bennet sisters.

  I did not, then, trouble to look at the impertinent ‘Lizzy’. The fair beauty was enough to hold my attention for a while. She was not fashionably dressed and a closer, more critical appraisal taught me her smile was a little too wide, but she was still, without a doubt, the handsomest woman I had seen for some time.

  Sho
uld she prove herself as graceful in the dance as her demeanour suggested, then here, perhaps, was one lady it would not be a disgrace to stand up with. I am not, however, a man given to flattering the ladies with any appearance of eagerness. She could wait until later.

  I moved away when I saw the lady being claimed for the first dances by a lanky young man with large teeth.

  It came as no surprise to see that Bingley had found himself a partner. I occupied myself by trying to discover the second beauty, sister to the first. I could not. None of the other ladies bore her any resemblance.

  As I strolled around the room, a loud and rather silly female voice caught my attention. ‘Stuff and nonsense! They are both very charming women and so elegant! The richness of lace on Mrs Hurst’s gown…. I am sure they will be most agreeable neighbours. I must say I am vexed to see Mr Bingley stand up with Charlotte Lucas! However, I am persuaded he cannot admire her, at all.’

  ‘Mama….’

  ‘We know she is a very good sort of girl, Lizzy, but you must own she is not at all handsome. Indeed, no one can think so, and I am persuaded the gentlemen….’

  Thankfully I was, by this time, too far away to hear the rest. I made a point, however, of taking a look at the speakers, for I had recalled the name ‘Lizzy’ in connection with certain remarks.

  Already, I had no great opinion of her character: one glance was sufficient to inform me I had no great opinion of her person, either. She was, I judged, around twenty years old, dark-haired, tolerable, I suppose, but I would not have described her as pretty: certainly, she was no beauty.

  As for her mama, she was an absolute fright of a woman with a silly, petulant expression and a discontented set to her mouth. I could hear her shrill voice above the murmur of general conversation and, although I did not catch her words, she appeared to be scolding her daughter. This might have accounted for the blank expression on that lady’s countenance.

  I had turned my attention to Bingley and his partner.

  Plump and plain, Charlotte Lucas wore a most unbecoming shade of green. She seemed to have no illusions about her own charms, however, for her countenance bore an expression of rueful humour and, as the dance ended, I saw why. Clearly, Bingley had requested her to introduce him to the only handsome woman in the room.

  He engaged that lady for the next two dances.

  I engaged Mrs Hurst, for the first of my duty dances.

  Somehow, she had learnt the fair beauty was indeed one of the Bennet sisters, Miss Jane Bennet, the eldest of five.

  ‘By all reports, she is an excellent creature, with the sweetest disposition imaginable.’

  I watched Bingley, dancing with the lady. He seemed satisfied with her. She moved with grace, appeared to converse easily and showed every appearance of enjoying his attentions.

  With some ill humour I said, ‘When a lady is endowed with superior beauty, all reports of her disposition should be received with the gravest suspicion.’

  ‘Oh, certainly! A proper reserve is always advisable at the beginning of an acquaintance. Now, what think you of Miss Elizabeth Bennet? Her beauty is not equal to her sister’s.’

  ‘Which is she?’ I asked, but I had guessed. The insufferable ‘Lizzy’, who had spoken of my situation with designs of her own, was sister to the fair beauty.

  I looked at her again when Mrs Hurst directed my attention to her. Now, she was no longer seated and I had a better view of her. She was shorter than Jane, dark where her sister was fair: her features were very far from classical, and I would have described her figure as sturdy rather than elegant.

  I pronounced myself very surprised indeed to learn that she was considered a beauty.

  The movement of the dance obliged me to turn: for a time, I lost sight of the second Miss Bennet.

  After dancing with Caroline Bingley, I stood back, duty done, watching Bingley being introduced to a child of no more than fourteen summers. Mrs Hurst seemed to be well informed. ‘Another Lucas,’ she said. ‘Maria Lucas.’

  Bingley engaged Maria Lucas to dance with him, possibly vexing the foolish Mrs Bennet once again.

  Other Bennets were pointed out to me. I heard Miss Mary Bennet described to Miss Bingley as ‘the most accomplished girl in the neighbourhood’, which might have impressed had I not heard another murmur, ‘Also, the most boring girl in the country.’

  The two youngest Bennets, Catherine and Lydia, were pretty girls, though their manners left much to be desired. Their laughter was shrill enough to make a man wince and they seemed to spend the evening squabbling with each other, competing for partners and flinging themselves into the various dances with far more energy than grace. They had no regard for any of the other dancers and frequently caused annoyance by bumping into other people or treading on their toes.

  My opinion of these two was quickly decided. They had neither dignity nor sense to recommend them, and their mother was just as bad. I hoped Bingley would not find Miss Jane Bennet too agreeable, for her relations did her no service at all.

  Without meaning to, I found myself watching Miss Elizabeth Bennet as she danced. I saw she was lighter on her feet than her eldest sister, and indeed, a much better dancer.

  Her partner, a stout man, did not do her justice. But she was conversing with him, she seemed perfectly happy. She was smiling, which gave her countenance a more agreeable expression than the blank-faced look I had first witnessed in her. Perhaps he, too, was a man of property and riches.

  It was not the first time I had found my gaze straying in her direction: I looked away, but shortly afterwards it happened again. Several times, I was obliged to wrench my gaze away and I began to comprehend that Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s designing schemes were assisted by the most astonishing guile. She had some means by which she could fix my attention on herself.

  I know not what manner of art she employed: never before had I known a lady who possessed such a gift. Discerning it did nothing to improve my opinion of her: it merely strengthened my resolve against her.

  Determined to pay her no more attention, I turned away, seeking other diversions. But I found little amusement in watching Bingley presenting Miss Jane Bennet to his sisters, and still less in seeing the younger Bennet girls growing steadily more boisterous.

  I felt myself increasing in boredom and irritability.

  One elderly lady, apparently determined to make some approach, asked me how I liked Netherfield. I answered her coldly and contrived, by my manner, to make it clear I did not wish to be drawn into conversation.

  Time passed: I looked at my watch, hoping we could soon take our leave.

  I saw Mrs Bennet looking quite indecently triumphant and wished Bingley had more sense than to engage Miss Jane Bennet to dance with him a second time.

  I stood alone, disapproving of all that I saw. Bingley was watching me and I knew I was irritating him. He came over to remonstrate with me, but by this time even he could not bring me out of my ill humour.

  He insisted I should dance. I gave way to bitter complaint: he knew I did not care for dancing, assemblies such as this were insupportable, his sisters were engaged with other partners and he was monopolizing the only handsome woman in the room.

  Bingley persisted. He wanted me to dance with one of the fair Jane’s sisters and pointed out that one of them was not far away, sitting down without a partner.

  I knew perfectly well that one of them was not far away, sitting down without a partner. I knew who she was, even though I had kept my resolution to avoid looking at her; Miss Elizabeth Bennet had contrived to ascertain I was informed of her whereabouts.

  She should not have the satisfaction of knowing her powers could draw me. I had not the smallest intention of partnering that lady in the dance.

  ‘Which do you mean?’ I looked round at her, but turned away when her eyes met mine. Something in her expression tempted me, had me wavering. I was saved only by a surge of resentment.

  I recalled the whole of that evening: my disgust of her mot
her; the vulgar behaviour of her younger sisters; the way she herself had somehow drawn me into noticing her far more than I wished; and the strongest recollection of all was the remark I had overheard and the way it had rankled.

  Let her, I thought savagely, find out what it was like to be obliged to overhear strangers discussing your person and situation.

  Knowing she would hear, I turned to Bingley expressing the opinion that she was tolerable, ‘but not handsome enough to tempt me’. I said I was in no humour to give consequence to young ladies who were slighted by other men. ‘You had better go back to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.’

  Bingley gave me an appalled look and stalked away. I own to a great feeling of satisfaction in having punished Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I shifted my stance so I could determine her reaction.

  Had she looked at all stricken, I might have made amends. I like to think I would: I cannot say for certain. But Miss Elizabeth Bennet did not look stricken. She sat very erect, immobile, her chin neither lifted nor drooping. Her profile betrayed no expression that I could fathom.

  I had witnessed that blank-faced expression earlier, on the only occasion when the smile was absent. Now, it pleased me. It convinced me that, for all her artfulness, she had little real intelligence. The girl might be quieter than her mother, but she was her like: she was just as deficient.

  I turned away to get some wine and did not waste another thought on her until, with astonished indignation, I saw Bingley himself engaging Miss Elizabeth for the next dance.

  I strolled back to Bingley’s sisters, finding myself more in accord with them than I had for some time. We agreed it would be insupportable to spend many evenings in this way, in such company.

  They told me about Jane Bennet. ‘A very sweet girl,’ said Mrs Hurst. ‘Such pleasing manners, and they tell me her sister, Miss Eliza Bennet is a tolerable lady.’

  I had something of my own to say about that.

  ‘I fear you are not an easy man to please, Mr Darcy,’ said Mrs Hurst.

  ‘The younger girls are shockingly ill-behaved,’ said Miss Bingley. ‘And as for the mother! You have remarked her, Mr Darcy, I am sure. Intolerable woman!’