by Kay Mares
A change occurred in her entries as she reached her later teens. She always devoured books and exchanged banter with her father over some point or idea but what struck her is how she entered thoughts which spoke to her agitation about not being taken seriously because she is female. She wrote of how her father is the only male who gave credence to her opinions. Her vow to never be subjugated by any man was often repeated. Not in the least bitter but instead determined.
Soon she comes to the entries about her first meetings with Darcy. Before she reads them, she considers whether or not that course of action is wise in light of the fact he is not here to comfort her. Elizabeth decides to peruse them because now she knows his love and devotion. She chuckles a bit over her description of him at the Meryton Assembly. Stiff, haughty, above his company. She wrote of his rude remark, stating she would allow him his pride had he not wounded hers. Her eyes sweep over the interchanges at Netherfield. How he provoked her with his comments, and she wrote about how she would not allow him to remain in the ignorance of his own beliefs.
She chronicled the exchange about accomplished women, and in her writings, she congratulated herself on her cleverness regarding never ridiculing what is wise or good. Does Mr. Darcy even comprehend that the comment pertained directly to him? Elizabeth blushes a bit as she thinks of how haughty she sounds in her musings. He saw past that. Elizabeth remembers the small upturn of his mouth as he chastised her about misreading people. What startles her is she wrote of the smile in her entry. After I accused him of the propensity to hate everyone, he challenged me with the notion that I willfully misunderstand them. Then he gave me a small smile, was it to mock me or was there something else? Those blue eyes were fixed on mine, and I thought I saw a flicker of warmth. But no, this man disdains me, I am only tolerable to him.
So I was not as impervious to him as I thought, Elizabeth mulls as she rereads the Netherfield ball entries. Her family gave her embarrassment, and she admitted between these pages she did not want to be found lacking to a man like Darcy. Interesting. During their dance at Netherfield, she wrote of his poor attempts at conversation. Charlotte said she would find him amiable, but Lizzy would not allow it. The recital given to her by Mr. Wickham pointed to a most disagreeable man who sought to hurt others for his own purpose and pleasure.
Lizzy documented Wickham’s tales and commented about his pleasing aspect, but another surprise awaited her in her writings. I had watched Mr. Darcy all evening before and after our dance trying to make out his character. I noted his eyes were turned in my direction many times that evening as he twisted and worried his signet ring. This man has made his disgust with my family well known so I must conclude he looks only to find fault. However, now and then, I cannot help but feel as if this supposedly confident man may be a bit unsure. Furthermore, there are at times, a softening I see in those blue eyes that I wonder at.
Interspersed in her entries are Lizzy’s observations of her own family’s conduct and the embarrassment they gave her. She fretted Mr. Bingley might be turned away, but she then wrote of Jane’s attraction to him and felt the relationship would follow its desired course. The flight from Netherfield is in there as well as Jane’s trip to London and what seemed to be the end of Jane’s hopes. Lizzy is surprised to see she spent the whole of the morning with her journals. She joined Georgiana for luncheon then she was compelled to return to the study to continue her reading while Georgiana worked on some music pieces. Lizzy draws a deep breath knowing where the story is about to lead. She wrote of Charlotte’s marriage to Mr. Collins and the ridiculousness of the man and his proposal to Lizzy. The trip to Hunsford Cottage was enjoyable for the scenery and to see her beloved friend, but then the discomfort started. How in the world did Mr. Darcy seem to know she would be there? His visits with her and her friends were stiff and awkward. Elizabeth’s snarky comment about how Mr. Darcy would twist his finger off if he did not quit twirling his signet ring makes Elizabeth feel guilty now. She knows it to be a habit of his when he is most uncomfortable or nervous.
It is all in there, her thoughts on Lady Catherine and Anne, the delight with Colonel Fitzwilliam, and her confusion over this pompous young man who seemed to come into her presence just to agitate her. “Poor Fitzwilliam,” Lizzy muses aloud as she reads her own words, “He was in the middle before he knew he had begun. He was lost and did not know how to handle these strong feelings.” Then came the proposal. Her entry has the words, pompous, arrogant, unfeeling, and cruel - this man has such nerve to think I would accept a man who ruined Jane’s happiness and destroyed the prospects of Mr. Wickham. I would never align myself with such evil nor would I even consider an acquaintance with him! But no matter, he will soon forget me and congratulate himself on escaping what he would consider a poor match. I doubt my reproofs will even penetrate his unfeeling exterior. Gentleman indeed! Elizabeth had forgotten how her ire rose at him but on reading her entry and knowing him better, she realizes he thought he was leading with his assets – his home, his consequence, his worth. If only he had allowed her to see who he really is, how loving and devoted he is, his protectiveness would have made more sense. She could well imagine how she might have fallen in love with him had he shared his humor with her back then. It would have made it more difficult to refuse him, but she would have for Jane’s sake and because she still thought highly of Wickham. Another earlier entry stands out to her, where for a brief moment, she contemplated why Wickham would make her an intimate after only a few days acquaintance. There were warning signs early on, but she failed to heed them.
Tucked into the pages of this journal book is the letter Darcy had written to her at Rosings. She never knew herself, and she only admits in this journal that she saw the glistening in his eyes with a pain there she ignored because she was still filled with fury over what he had done. This dratted man gave me a letter to read which I did. I cannot relay the shame which filled me and still does over what I have done. I am not sure I accept his explanation of Jane’s indifference, but then again he does not know my sister as I do. The narrative about Mr. Wickham though has more than a ring of truth to it. I wondered if only to myself about Mr. Wickham’s willingness to slander Mr. Darcy while Mr. Darcy remained above it. Now I know the whole sordid tale. No wonder Mr. Darcy could not be in Mr. Wickham’s presence. How must it have tortured him to have me defend his worst enemy to him? My mortification is complete. What haunts me though is, I will be unable to tell anyone that from the instant he handed me the letter, I knew with certainly my reproofs touched the man. I will never forget the pain and unshed tears I saw in Mr. Darcy’s eyes. I am a wretched creature.
Elizabeth cannot read any further. This is a mistake. Elizabeth decides she needs to move about and burn up some of her turmoil by taking a walk. A glance out of the window shows it is a bright day, but the wind has kicked up again. Lizzy learned her lesson about going about outside knowing the ice could cause another fall. She promised Darcy to exercise caution while he is gone. He had held her face in his hands as his eyes pierced hers while he told her he would not be here to see to her safety and he trusted her to take care of herself. Darcy told her he would cease to live if anything happened to her. Elizabeth saw his concern and sought to alleviate his distress, so she promised her obedience to him.
“Oh Lizzy, I would never ask for your obedience,” he laughingly replied, the seriousness went, “instead I ask you to employ your intellect I so admire, knowing you will keep yourself safe in my absence. I love you.” He finished with a passionate kiss. No other man would treat her like he does. Other men would just order their wives about and expect them to submit. His trust in her is complete, and she will do nothing to violate it.
As Lizzy goes down the hall from the study, she sees Georgiana heading in her direction. The two agreed a walk would be most diverting and Georgiana takes Lizzy to an unused area of the mansion. The views from this aspect are grand with pasture below and thick forest farther beyond. Three deer enter the clearing as t
he ladies watch, scratching in the snow with their hooves trying to find a morsel or two to eat. “I have always delighted in this view from the house. Of course, every window offers something to gaze upon, but I suspect I admire this view because I do not often get to behold it.” Georgiana’s eyes are amused as she follows the deer’s movements. “It is peaceful here too especially as the staff puts everything back to order and cleans from the holidays.”
“It is a marvelous view, and you have the right of it, the quiet here is welcoming. The staff has been diligent in trying to be as unobtrusive as possible though.” Then because she still has the emotions from her memories churning about, she asks Georgiana how she bears prolonged separations from her brother.
“I guess I have become accustomed to them. When Father was alive, he would leave to attend to business, and if Fitzwilliam were in residence, we would spend time together. Just like when I was young, he would come into my studies and announce he had Father’s orders to take me from my work. I am sure my tutors knew better, but they did not challenge him. I remember sitting by the river, throwing pebbles in the water while Fitzwilliam asked me about my studies, music or even my opinion on some world event. Of course, there was always laughter. He could find the silliest things in the everyday world. He told me Mother was like that.”
Georgiana wrinkles her brow as she continues to answer Lizzy’s question. “When Fitzwilliam was at Cambridge, I still had Father with me, but at times he too would be gone. Gradually I developed my habits and routines but extended periods without family were rare until Father passed. My poor brother. He assumed Father’s position and Pemberley continued to thrive under his watchful eyes, but he became even more withdrawn. So much so that even when he was in residence, it was as if he was gone. Long hours in his study, meetings with his solicitor and Mr. Scovell. Business letters, ledgers, and then Society came with its demands. Fitzwilliam became more reserved especially around those he did not know. He told me of the disingenuousness of the ton. People who thought they could use his youth against him. The worst he said was the women, but he never elaborated further.” Georgiana lowers her eyes before she spoke again.
“Please do not think I have the servants spying on you, but one of the maids reported to me you were reading your journals and looked upset. I think she said so out of concern for you rather than to cause any stir.” When Georgiana raises her head again, Elizabeth is shocked to see the same intense gaze in her pale blue eyes just as her brother has in his dark blue ones. “If you are like me, you write faithfully in your journals so your tumultuous beginning with my brother will be chronicled therein. Please do not torture yourself over the missteps of the past. This is the same advice you have given me. Instead, know in his letters to me, Fitzwilliam never spoke of a woman unless it was merely to mark her presence at an event. From his first days at Netherfield, he wrote of your acquaintance. I could not believe the sportive manner in which you spoke to him! He delighted in it and occasionally went as far as to write of what you wore or what scent you had on. He never admitted to me an attraction to you until after Rosings, but I could see he was smitten even if he was too obtuse to admit it to himself.”
Both of them chuckle at his earliest attempts to gain Elizabeth’s attention. “Like me, I suppose you both had to go through a difficult time to become better people. These are hard lessons we each learned, but it brought us all to this time when we could be called family.” Elizabeth hugs her sister and thanks her for sharing her insights.
Much later in the evening, Lizzy returns to her journals but without the sadness of before. Georgiana’s words struck her with their truth and Lizzy is more curious to see how her relationship with Darcy unfolded in the written text. Her trip to Pemberley is a happy note. She recounted standing in front of his portrait and gazing at the likeness. She noted the soft smile and the lightness in his eyes while the painting captured his worth. Her writings reveal her love she felt for the man and how she longed to have him look upon her like that once more. Then there is the chance meeting! Lizzy smiles as she reads how she noted Darcy is fidgeting with his ring again. She was as nervous as he was. The diary recalls how pleasant he was and the shy smile he gave her as they waited on the Gardiners to approach. Her positive feelings about Georgiana are there along with further proof of Wickham’s lies when Lizzy saw Georgiana was only shy, not proud. Lizzy wrote of the pain of Caroline’s remarks and the effect they had on the Darcy siblings. She amazes herself with how well she documented the look which connected her and Darcy as Lizzy protected his sister. She will never forget the warmth of his face and eyes as he once more graced her with a smile.
Lydia’s disgrace brought a frown to Lizzy but again what she had written of Darcy gave her pause. Mr. Darcy called unexpectedly after I received the distressing news of Lydia’s betrayal. He immediately set out to protect me as he would not allow me in my heightened state to seek Aunt and Uncle. What’s more was the understanding and kindness I saw in those marvelous eyes. He was all that was proper, but he gently stroked my fingertips with his as his intense stare held me. I spilled everything to him, and he never judged just offered me what little comfort he could. As he left the room, he turned to give me one last look almost as if he wished to remember me. Then as the door shut behind him, I realized I would never see him again. How could he come back to me?
Lizzy flips through the pages about Lydia’s marriage and Darcy’s Aunt Catherine’s insulting visit rapidly. She wishes to see more of her own thoughts on her now husband. She comes to the reunion of Jane and Bingley. Her joy at the happy event is evident. Her sorrow and understanding at the absence of Bingley’s particular friend is marked as well. My rational mind knows such a man as Mr. Darcy could not seek a connection with me, but my foolish heart begs for his return. How could he entertain even the notion of being aligned with a family who would then have him be a brother to Mr. Wickham? Furthermore, after I had abused him so abominably, I cannot believe he would want to be anywhere near me. But there is the matter of his action in bringing Lydia and Wickham together. Aunt Gardiner said his only true fault was that of obstinacy. Nothing was done he did not do himself. What can it all mean? I have confided in Jane, and she knows some of my feelings but perhaps not the depth of my, shall I write it? – love- for the man.
The next entry speaks of Darcy’s return to the area along with the terrible attack. Lizzy wrote of her fear for him and how he protected her sensibilities. I can hardly fathom what has happened. As frightening as seeing a pistol pointed at me, I have to say seeing the gun aimed at Mr. Darcy was the most awful thing I have witnessed. Then when the foul scoundrel shot Mr. Darcy, I cannot convey how terrified I was. Is it scandalous to admit I wished to embrace him and try to comfort him? He would not rest until he had assured himself of my wellbeing. The intensity of emotion in his eyes, I shall never forget. When I held pressure on his wound and saw the clarity in his eyes, I was astounded he could maintain his calm after a horrific injury. Further amazement was yet to come when he began to jest with me! How did he know I felt like I was losing my composure? He protected me physically, and he protected my sensibilities. I know not a finer man. Arriving at Netherfield, I comprehended the depth of his pain, but I knew the self-control he employed. How he suffered, but he locked his jaw and manfully bore the pain. He did not wish to alarm me further. Did he hear me cry out his name? Oh dear, what must he think of me? To assume a familiarity with him. Then again, after he was settled in his chambers, he spoke of protecting those he cares for, as what a gentleman does. I can only hope he means that for me.
Lizzy’s next entries are written about her talks with Jane about her changing feelings for Darcy and the disquiet she felt when no word came from Netherfield regarding the gentleman’s condition. The days when she stayed at Netherfield at Darcy’s bedside she did not have the time to write in her journals except for one quick entry. Please Lord, do not take this man. So many need him, and I beg You to allow me the opportunity to tell him I no
longer hold him in disdain but that I love him. Even if we are to be no more than friends, please do not allow him to suffer nor succumb.
Her next writings barely contain her joy about his recovery and their betrothal. Lizzy wrote her thanks to God for sparing him and of her rapture of becoming his bride. One entry merely is this: Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy. Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy. Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy. Oh, what would he say if he saw me carrying on like a lovesick schoolgirl?
Lizzy chronicled the wonder of finally getting to know the true man hidden under the layers of rigidity and propriety. His humor is a new found delight along with the funny stories shared by him and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Lizzy wrote of her first kiss – ever - and the new and glorious feelings it elicited. She hardly contains her rapture over the amiable, kind and loving man she would be marrying. She is awed he trusted her so that he allowed her to see the unguarded and frankly playful man he hides from the world. She marvels over how he can quickly change his demeanor depending on who is present so the others will not see his true nature. She wrote lovingly of the teatime he arranged for just the two of them and his romantic proposal. Perfect is the word she used.
Her diary contains the following days of courtship and all the little things he did for her like assuring her comfort first, hearing her opinions, the books and flowers he procured for her. Horseback rides he sometimes arranged with the express purpose of stealing some moments alone for a few kisses. She recounted the pride and awe she felt when he stopped the runaway horse which had gotten out of control from its youthful rider. She glowingly recounted receiving her engagement ring and her shock not at its value but at the amount of thought he put into designing it with her specifically in mind. Her pages are full of the love she has for Fitzwilliam and how it strengthened each day as he revealed more of himself to her and gave her the assurances of his never-ending love and devotion for her.