Mr. Darcy's Diary

‘The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness, but it did not end so. The adieu is charity itself. But think no more of the letter. The feelings of the person who wrote, and the person who received it, are now so widely different from what they were then, that every unpleasant circumstance attending it ought to be forgotten. You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.’

I could not do it. I could not let the past go without telling her of my parents, good people in themselves who yet encouraged me to think well of myself and meanly of others. I told her how I was an only son, indeed an only child for much of my life, and how I had come to value none beyond my own family circle. ‘By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.’

We talked of Georgiana and of Lydia, and of the day at the inn when Jane’s letter had arrived. Talk of Jane naturally led to her engagement.

‘I must ask whether you were surprised?’ asked Elizabeth.

‘Not at all. When I went away, I felt that it would soon happen.’

‘That is to say, you had given your permission. I guessed as much,’ she teased me.

By this time we had reached the house. It was not until we went indoors that I realized how long we had been away.

‘My dear Lizzy, where can you have been walking to?’ asked her sister, as we sat down at the table.

Elizabeth coloured, but said: ‘We wandered about, not paying attention to where we were going, and became lost.’

‘I am sure I am sorry for it,’ said Mrs Bennet, in a whisper loud enough for me to hear. ‘It must have been very trying for you, having to talk to that disagreeable man.’

Elizabeth was mortified, but I caught her eye and smiled. Her mother may be the most dreadful woman it has been my misfortune to meet, but I would tolerate a dozen such mothers for the sake of Elizabeth.

I could not speak to her as I wished to during the evening. Jane and Bingley sat close together, talking of the future, but until I had asked Mr Bennet for Elizabeth’s hand, she and I could not indulge in such discussions.

It was time for Bingley and me to return to Netherfield. I was able to relieve my feelings a little in the carriage going home.

‘I have already wished you happy,’ I said. ‘Now you must do the same for me.’

Bingley looked surprised.

‘I am to marry Elizabeth.’

‘Elizabeth?’

‘Yes. I proposed during our walk. She has agreed to marry me.’

‘This is capital news! Almost as good as my own. She is just the wife for you. She is the only person I have ever met who can stand up to you. I shall never forget the way she teased you when she stayed with us at Netherfield, when Jane was ill. You were bored and in one of your stately moods. Caroline was admiring everything you said and did. I remember thinking it would be a tragedy if you married her, knowing she would confirm you in your conceit. She would convince you that you were above everyone else in every way. Not that you needed a great deal of convincing!’

I laughed.

‘Was I really so arrogant?’

‘You were,’ said Bingley. ‘You know you were! But Elizabeth will make sure you never become so again.

When do you mean to marry?’

‘As soon as possible. Elizabeth will need time to buy wedding clothes, and if she wishes me to make any alterations to Pemberley before she arrives then I will need time to attend to it. Otherwise, I would like to marry at once.’

‘Changes to Pemberley? It must be love,’ Bingley said.

‘I am sure I hope you will be very happy.’

‘We have been talking about that, Elizabeth and I. We have decided that you and Jane will be happy, but that we will be happier.’

‘Oh no, on that we will never agree.’

The carriage rolled to a halt.

‘Will you tell Caroline, or shall I?’ asked Bingley, as we went in. Then he went on immediately: ‘It might be better to let me tell her, or she might say something she regrets on first hearing the news.’

‘As you wish.’

On entering the house, I retired to the library, to think of Elizabeth, and of the future.

Tuesday 7th October

I met Caroline at breakfast, and I was pleased to see how well she comported herself.

‘I understand I am to wish you happy,’ she remarked.

‘Yes. I am to be married.’

‘I am delighted,’ she said. ‘It is time you took a wife.

Who would have thought, when we came to Netherfield last year, that both you and Charles would find true love.’

I ignored her droll tone.

‘Perhaps one day you might be as fortunate.’

‘I do not think I will ever marry,’ she declared. ‘I have no desire to let a man master me. When is the wedding to be?’

‘Soon.’

‘Then I must see my dressmaker. Two weddings in so short a space of time will require careful planning.’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Louisa. ‘We must have something new.’

Soon after breakfast, Bingley and I set out again for Longbourn.

‘Caroline was very well-behaved,’ I said to him. ‘I thought she took the news well.’