Janet Aylmer - Darcy’s Story

“Perhaps you can help me, for I am very troubled in my mind. Whilst I was at Rosings with cousin Fitzwilliam, I met again a lady, a Miss Elizabeth Bennet, whose family come from Hertfordshire, near the house that Charles Bingley took on lease last Michaelmas.

“I realised then that I . . . liked her very much better than many people I have met. Miss Bennet is one of the few people I could rely on to...to keep a secret of mine. But her family are not superior, particularly her mother, her mother’s family and her younger sisters.

“I met her again because she was visiting her close friend Charlotte Lucas, who has married the rector at Hunsford.” Darcy stopped, for he could not bring himself to go as far as saying that he himself had then proposed marriage.

Then he went on, “I spoke to her more ...plainly... than I now think that I should have done, about the importance of connections and social position in marriage. And there were other things on which we disagreed.”

“I know that you would like her. She is not only lovely, and amiable, but she is also lively, accomplished in singing and dancing, and plays the piano-forte with pleasure. In truth, I like her very well indeed.”

“But how important are her connections, and how can I commend myself to her, in the unlikely event that we should ever meet again?”

The way in which he spoke, with more feeling than she had ever heard him, confirmed to Georgiana that her brother must have said many things that he now regretted.

Georgiana replied slowly, “I am not at all experienced in the ways of the world, as you are. But it seems to me that people are of good breeding if they behave in a genteel manner, are thoughtful and considerate, and not because of who they are, or because they are always proud of how much money or consequence they possess.”

She went on, “I know that you and I are well provided for, so surely we do not have to seek a fortune as cousin Fitzwilliam says that he must. I know that he may be jesting, at least a little, but you have this house, and Pemberley, and a great estate, and...”

Her courage then began to fail Georgiana, and her voice trailed away, as she began to think that she had said too much.

Her brother had turned and was deep in thought for some minutes.

Then he looked back at her and said, “I believe that you are right. Manners are important, but only if they are genuine. How I wish that I had talked with you before, for I may have said and done things that I may never be able to change, and shall always regret.”

Georgiana paused for a moment in case he said anything further.

When he did not, she said softly, “You can not be sure of that. Perhaps the best guide is to treat people, everyone you meet, with the politeness and consideration with which you would wish them to treat you?”

He looked at her in surprise, for this was indeed a novel thought for him.

He could not stop himself saying “Everyone?”

She did not reply, but looked at him steadily.

Darcy then said, “I understand you, but I fear that it may be too late. I do wish that you had been able to meet her.”

And with that, he left the room, leaving his sister to wonder what she could do to ease his evident distress.

The subject was not discussed between them any further, but Darcy tried no longer to justify to himself the manner in which he had spoken to Miss Bennet in Kent.

What at the time had seemed to be his proper concern at the inferiority of her connections, the degradation which an alliance with her family would bring, his satisfaction that the concerns he had expressed were natural and just, now seemed hollow, a convenience, to conceal his own insecurity, and feelings of inadequacy in company.

His confidence in the reasons that had led him to separate Bingley from her sister likewise came to diminish, to be an echo of his desire not to measure people by their real worth, to take comfort in social position rather than in genuine character and goodness.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s words to him on that afternoon at Hunsford came back so often to torture him.

“ . . . your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain for the feelings of others . . .”

It was a measure of how much Darcy’s view of himself had altered that he now questioned how he would have felt if she had used similar sentiments in speaking to him?

Darcy began to realise that, even if everything he had said to Miss Bennet had been well founded, the way he had expressed himself must have alienated her.

He feared now that his letter, which at the time he had thought had been composed calmly and in order to rectify her errors of knowledge, could only have increased the unfortunate effect of his words. He had thought that he had been rational and measured. Now his recollection was of his dreadful bitterness of spirit at rejection, when he had been so certain of success, of his desire then to demonstrate his superior position in society, and use her family circumstances and connections to denigrate her further.

Thus Darcy tortured himself over many days.

Worst of all was the knowledge that Wickham’s regiment was still stationed at Meryton. Elizabeth Bennet was likely to have every chance to be subject to his insidious charms and persuasions.

Although, in more rational moments, Darcy doubted whether his childhood companion would ever consider marriage to someone who could bring with her as little fortune as Elizabeth Bennet, that gave him no ease compared to the daily opportunities he imagined Wickham having to touch her heart and reinforce the feelings of, at the very least, compassion that she clearly felt for him. He could only hope that she gave some recognition to the intelligence about “that gentleman” as he had set out in his letter.

Georgiana, he knew, found him uncommunicative and distracted and, for her sake, he endeavoured to appear more cheerful than he felt.

When he was with his sister, he succeeded in putting Elizabeth Bennet out of his mind for much of the time. But elsewhere, and particularly through the long sleepless nights, she was never far from his thoughts.

He often had in his mind what Miss Bennet had said to Fitzwilliam at Rosings,

“Shall we ask your cousin... shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?”

And he recalled Fitzwilliam’s reply,

“It is because he will not give himself the trouble.”

How much he would give now to have the opportunity to take all the trouble in the world, if it would gain him the affections of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. 

In due time, his sister travelled with Fitzwilliam to see their cousin, the Earl’s elder son, and his young family in Essex, leaving Darcy in town to await the arrival of Bingley and his sisters. One afternoon soon after, when Darcy was just re-turned from visiting his attorney, an unexpected visitor called, carrying a message from Lady Catherine. It was Mrs. Collins, who explained that she was in town to execute some commissions for herself and for his aunt.

She told him that Lady Catherine had recently travelled to Bath in the hope of bringing some improvement in the health of her daughter by taking the waters at the Cross Bath. His aunt had written to Mrs. Collins to say that their arrival to stay off Laura Place had, as was only right and proper, been included prominently in the list of new visitors for that week in the Bath Chronicle. Anne’s condition would not permit them to attend a gathering in the Assembly Rooms, but they had been to a concert in the Pump Room. They had walked in the Sydney Gardens, where they had seen the canal recently built as part of the link between the rivers Kennet and Avon, and they hoped to be able to make an excursion in their carriage into the country round about the city.

Rather than take her daughter home thereafter, his aunt was planning to visit town for a few days before travelling on to Rosings, and had asked Mrs. Collins to tell her nephew of her intention. Darcy was surprised to learn of this, as Lady Catherine usually considered that the polluting air and exposure to too much society in London were injurious to Anne’s health. He recollected suddenly his aunt’s comments just before he had left Rosings, and asked his visitor whether she knew of any reason why his cousin would be making such a rare visit to town.

Mrs. Collins, looking rather embarrassed, said something had been mentioned, only in passing of course, about the possibility of a marriage for Anne. He did not reply directly, but changed the subject, to talk for a time of the commissions that she had to carry out in town.

He dared not ask after the one person he wished to hear of by name directly, but said “Do you have good news of your friends in Meryton?”

Mrs. Collins acknowledged that she had.

“Mr. Collins is not with you?” he tried next.

“No, Sir, his duties would not permit that. However, before she left for Bath, Lady Catherine had most graciously said that, since I agreed to carry this letter for you, I might use the second chaise as far as the turnpike.”

Darcy said that he was glad of that, as some recompense for her trouble.

Hoping to prompt her to some recollection of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, he went on to recall the last time they had met in Hertfordshire, at her father’s house, and then at the ball at Netherfield. Happily for him, this had the desired effect.