Mr. Darcy's Diary

‘But your fellow travellers might like to write. What do you say, Georgiana? Would it not be useful?’

‘Yes,’ my sister ventured.

‘There you are, Charles. Georgiana thinks it would be useful, and not only for writing, I am sure. It would also be useful for sketching. How is your sketching progressing?’ she asked Georgiana.

‘Well, I thank you.’

‘My sister gave me a sketch of Hyde Park only last week,’ I said.

‘And was it prettily done?’ Caroline asked.

‘It was very well done indeed,’ I said with a warm smile.

‘I remember my own schooldays. How I loved to sketch! You must let me see the picture, Georgiana.’

‘I left it in London,’ my sister said.

‘No matter. I will see it the next time we meet.’

We travelled in easy stages and stopped for the night at the Black Bull. It is a respectable hostelry. The food is good and the rooms comfortable. I have told my man to wake me early. I have some letters to write before we travel on.

Tuesday 5th August

I cannot believe it. I have seen Elizabeth. I scarce know what I am writing. It was so strange.

We were returning to Pemberley, Bingley, his sisters, Mr Hurst, Georgiana and I, when we stopped for lunch at an inn. The day was hot and the ladies were tired. They did not wish to travel further, and indeed I had told my housekeeper we would not arrive until tomorrow. But I was restless. I decided to go ahead, meaning to see Johnson and put some of the estate business out of the way before my guests arrived.

I rode on to Pemberley. It was a beautiful afternoon, and I enjoyed the ride. I was just leaving the stables and walking round to the front of the house when I stopped short. I wondered if I was hallucinating. The day was hot, and I wondered if I had caught the sun. For there in front of me was a figure I knew well. It was Elizabeth.

She was walking across the lawn to the river, in the company of two people whom I did not know. At that moment she turned to look back. She saw me. I stood rooted to the spot. We were within twenty yards of each other. There was no question of avoiding her, even had I wished it. Our eyes met and I saw her blush. I felt my own countenance grow hot.

At last I recovered myself. I advanced towards the party. She had instinctively turned away, but stopping on my approach, she received my compliments with great embarrassment. I felt for her, and would have made it easier for her if I could.

As I spoke to her I could not help wondering what she was doing there. To be at Pemberley! It seemed so strange, and yet at the same time so right.

‘I hope you are well?’ I asked.

‘Yes, thank you,’ she said, flushing, and unable to meet my gaze.

‘And your family?’

As soon as I said it I saw her flush more deeply, and I felt an answering flush cross my face. I had no right to ask after her family, having abused them so roundly to her face, but she answered me civilly enough.

‘They are well, thank you.’

‘How long ago did you quit Longbourn?’

‘Almost a month.’

‘You have been travelling?’

‘Yes.’

‘You are enjoying it, I hope?’

‘Yes.’

I repeated myself thrice more, asking her if she had enjoyed herself, until I felt it was better if I remain silent, since I could think of nothing sensible to say. After a few moments I recollected myself and took my leave.

To find Elizabeth, here, at Pemberley! And to find her willing to talk to me. She had been embarrassed, but she had not turned away. She had answered every question with more civility than I deserved.

What was she thinking? I wondered. Was she pleased to have met me? Mortified? Indifferent? No, not that last.

She had blushed when I approached. She had been angry, perhaps, but not indifferent.

The thought gave me hope.

I went into the house, but instead of making for the steward’s room I found myself going into the drawing-room.

She had not been at ease, that much was clear, and I had done nothing to help her. I had been so overcome with surprise, and a range of other emotions I dare not put a name to, that I had been incoherent.

A gentleman would have set her at ease. A gentleman would have made her feel at home. A gentleman would have asked to be introduced to her companions. How far below this mark I had fallen! I resolved to mend matters at once.

Going out into the grounds, I enquired of one of the gardeners which way the visitors had gone, and set off after them.

I saw them down by the river. I approached. Never had a walk seemed so long. Would she be pleased to see me? I hoped, at least, she would not be displeased.

I came upon her. She began speaking at once, with something more of ease than previously.

‘Mr Darcy. You have a delightful estate here. The house is charming, and the grounds are very pleasant.’

She seemed about to go on, then coloured. I believe we both thought the same: the house could now be hers, if she had accepted my hand.

To help her over her distress, I said: ‘Will you do me the honour of introducing me to your friends?’