Mr. Darcy's Diary

This morning I woke with the dawn. I slept again, until my valet wakened me. I rose quickly, then made a fair copy of my letter. I made my way to Colonel Fitzwilliam’s room. He was in his dressing-gown when I arrived, about to have his valet shave him.

‘I need to speak to you,’ I said.

‘At this hour?’ he asked, laughing.

‘I need your help.’

His look changed. He dismissed his valet.

‘You have it,’ he said.

‘I need you to do something for me.’

‘Name it.’

‘I need you to bear witness to the events related in this letter.’

He looked at me in surprise.

‘They contain particulars of Wickham’s relations with my sister.’

He frowned. ‘I do not think you should divulge them to anyone.’

‘Events have made it imperative that I do so.’

In the briefest of terms I told him of what had passed; that I had proposed to Elizabeth and been refused.

‘Refused?’ He broke in at that. ‘Good God, what can you have said to her to make her refuse you?’

‘Nothing. I said only what any sensible man would have said,’ I replied. ‘I told her of the struggle I had had in overlooking the inferiority of her connections, the objectionable behaviour of her family, the lowness of her situation in life –’

‘Only what any sensible man would have said?’ he asked in surprise. ‘Darcy, this is not like you. You cannot have so mismanaged it. To insult a woman and then to expect her to marry you?’

I was surprised at his reaction.

‘I spoke nothing but the truth.’

‘If we all spoke the truth there would be a great deal of unhappiness in the world, and particularly at such a time. Some things are better left unsaid.’

‘I abhor deception,’ I said.

‘And I abhor a blockhead!’ he returned, half-smiling, half-exasperated. Then he became serious. ‘But to offer for Miss Bennet…I confess you have taken me by surprise. I had no idea your affections were engaged.’

‘I took care you should not know. I did not want anyone to know. I thought I could vanquish them.’

‘But they were too strong for you?’

I nodded, and though I would not have admitted it to anyone but myself, they still were. No matter. I would conquer them. I had no choice.

‘Will you stand witness for me? Will you make yourself available to her, should she wish it?’ I asked him.

‘You are sure she will say nothing of it to anyone?’

‘I am sure.’

‘Very well. Then yes, I will.’

‘Thank you. And now I must leave you. I hope to put this letter into her hand this morning. She walks in the park after breakfast. I hope to find her there.’

I left him to his valet and went out into the park. I had not long to wait. I saw Elizabeth and walked towards her.

She hesitated, and I believe she would have turned away if she could, but she knew that I had seen her. I walked towards her purposefully.

‘I have been walking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you. Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?’

I put it into her hand. And then, before she could hand it back to me, I made her a slight bow and walked away.

Of my feelings as I returned to Rosings I will say nothing. I scarcely know what they were. I imagined her reading the letter. Would she believe me? Would she think better of me? Or would she dismiss it as a fabrication?

I had no way of knowing.

My visit to my aunt is drawing to an end. I leave tomorrow with my cousin. I could not go without taking my leave of those at the parsonage, but I was apprehensive about the visit. How would Elizabeth look?

What would she say? What would I say?

As chance should have it, Elizabeth was not there. I said all that was proper to Mr and Mrs Collins and then took my leave.

Colonel Fitzwilliam went later, remaining an hour so that Elizabeth might have a chance of speaking to him if she wished it, but she did not return. I can only hope she has accepted that I have told her the truth, and that her feelings towards me are now less hostile. But any other kind of feelings…such hopes are over.

Thursday 24th April

I am in London again. After all the unforeseeable events at Rosings I find that here, at least, things are still the same. Georgiana has learnt a new sonata and netted a purse. She has also made a very good sketch of Mrs Annesley. But although London has not changed, I find that I have. I am no longer happy here. My house seems lonely. I had never realized how large it is, or how empty.

If things had gone otherwise…but they did not.

I have much to do, and I will soon be too busy to think of the past. During the days, I have business which must be attended to, and at night I mean to attend every party and ball to which I have been invited. I will not allow the events of the last few weeks to discompose me.

I have been a fool, but I will be a fool no more. I am determined to forget Elizabeth.

Friday 25th April

‘Mr Darcy! How good of you to attend our little gathering!’ said Lady Susan Wigham as I entered her house this evening.

It was comfortable to be back in a world of elegance and taste, with not one vulgar person to mortify me. The ballroom was full of refined people, many of whom I had known all my life.