I could not help remembering how flushed Elizabeth had looked after her walk to Netherfield. Her eyes had been sparkling, and her complexion had been brightened by the exercise.
Where is she now? Is she walking along the country lanes around her home in the snow? Is she at home, arranging holly, even as Georgiana is arranging it here? Is she looking forward to Christmas? If I had not kept Bingley from Netherfield, we could all be there now…which would have been a very grave mistake. It is better for all of us that we are in London.
We had our dance this evening, and I was gratified to see Georgiana enjoying herself. She danced twice with Bingley, once with Colonel Fitzwilliam and once with myself.
‘Georgiana moves with extraordinary grace,’ said Caroline.
It was a subject that could not fail to please me.
‘You think so?’
‘I do. It was an excellent idea to hold a private dance.
It is good for her to practise at these sorts of occasions.
You dance very well, Mr Darcy. You and I together can set her an example. Charles and I are at your disposal if you should wish to hold another such evening. It can do Georgiana nothing but good to see others dancing, and it will help her achieve confidence and poise.’
I was reminded of another time when she had praised me, saying how well I wrote my letters. I recalled the scene exactly. It had been at Netherfield, and Elizabeth had been with us. I felt a stirring of something inside me as I thought of her. Anger, perhaps, that she had so bewitched me?
Our dance broke up. Our guests left, and I had the satisfaction of seeing Georgiana retiring to bed, tired but happy.
She has completely forgotten George Wickham, I am sure of it. As long as nothing reminds her of him, I do not believe she will think of him again.
We had our game of charades after dinner this evening. I was pleased when Caroline thought of suggesting that Georgiana and Bingley work on their charade together.
They retreated into a corner of the room, their heads close enough to be almost touching. It was a most pleasing sight.
The charades were very enjoyable, and after we had all performed, we went in to supper.
‘Do you know, Darcy, I thought we would be spending Christmas at Netherfield this year,’ said Bingley with a sigh. ‘That had been my plan when I took the house. I wonder what they are all doing now.’
I thought it wiser to turn his thoughts away from this direction.
‘Much the same as we are doing here. Take some more of the venison.’
He did as I suggested, and said no more about Netherfield.
I have never enjoyed a Christmas day more. We went to church this morning and this evening we played at bullet pudding and snapdragon. As we did so I noticed a change in Georgiana. Last year she played as a child, enjoying the novelty of putting her hands into the flames to snatch a burning raisin, and blowing on her fingers when she was not quick enough to emerge unscathed. This year, she played to please me. I could see it in her eyes.
I wonder if Elizabeth plays at bullet pudding and snapdragon. I wonder if she burnt her fingers as she snatched the raisins out of the flames.
‘I wonder you do not think of marrying Miss Bingley,’ I said to Colonel Fitzwilliam as we rode out together this morning.
‘Miss Bingley?’
‘She is a wealthy young woman, and you are in need of an heiress.’
He shook his head.
‘I do not wish to marry Miss Bingley.’
‘She is charming and elegant, gracious and well bred.’
‘She is all those things, but I could not marry her. She is a cold woman. When I marry, I would like a wife with more warmth. I would also like someone who will look up to me, rather than someone who will look up to my family name.’
‘I never knew you wanted that from a wife,’ I said in surprise.
‘As a younger son, I have had to look up to others all my life. I would like to experience the situation from another side!’
He spoke lightly, but I think there was some truth in what he said.
We rode on in silence for some way, enjoying the snow-covered scenery.
‘How long will you be in town?’ I asked him.
‘Not long. I have business which requires my attention in Kent. I mean to pay my respects to Lady Catherine whilst I am there. Shall I tell her you will be visiting her at Easter?’
‘Yes, I will visit her as usual. When will you be returning to town?’
‘Soon, I hope. Before Easter, certainly.’
‘Then you must dine with me when you do.’
January
There has been a most unwelcome incident. Caroline has had a letter from Miss Bennet.
‘She writes that she is coming to London,’ cried Caroline. ‘She will be staying with her aunt and uncle in Gracechurch Street. From the date of her letter, I believe she must already be here.’
‘It is not something I would have wished to happen,’
I said. ‘Bingley seems to have forgotten her. If he sees her again, his admiration might be rekindled.’
‘He does not need to know of her visit,’ Caroline said.
I agreed to this. ‘I doubt they will ever come across each other,’ I said.
‘I think I shall not reply to her letter. She will not be in town long, and she will think only that the letter was lost. Better that, than that she thinks she is not welcome here. She is a sweet girl, and I have no wish to wound her feelings, but my love for my brother runs deeper, and I must do what I can to save him from an unsuitable match.’
I applaud her sentiments, but I find I am not easy in my mind. Anything devious or underhand is abhorrent to me. But Caroline is right. We cannot allow Bingley to sacrifice his life on the altar of a vulgar family, and it is but a small deception after all.
Georgiana is developing just as I could wish. Her accomplishments, her deportment, her manners are all those I like to see. I did not know how to proceed when she was left in my care, but I flatter myself she is turning into the young woman my mother would wish her to be.
I had a shock when visiting Caroline and her sister today, in order to give them a note from Georgiana. As I approached the house, I saw Jane Bennet leaving it.
‘What has happened here?’ I asked when I was admitted.
Caroline looked out of spirits.
‘The most unfortunate thing. Jane Bennet has been here. I thought she would have gone back to the country by now, but it seems she means to make an extended visit.’
‘This is most unlucky. What did you say to her?’
‘I scarcely know what I said. She took me by surprise.
She told me she had written to me and I said I had never received her letter. She enquired after Charles. I told her that he was well, but that he was so often with you I scarcely saw him. I told her how much Georgiana was grown, and how we were seeing her for dinner this evening. Then I intimated that Louisa and I were on the point of going out. After that she could not stay.’
‘You will have to return the call,’ I said.
‘It cannot be avoided. But I shall not stay long, and I hope by my manner she will see that any further intimacy is not to be expected. Charles has almost forgotten her. In another few weeks he will be out of danger.’
Of that I am not so sure. He speaks of her sometimes still. He checks himself when he sees my expression, but it is not safe for him to think of either Miss Bennet or Hertfordshire yet.
Caroline paid her call on Miss Bennet this morning. It was of a short duration, and she used her time to tell Miss Bennet that Bingley is not certain of returning to Hertfordshire, and may give up Netherfield. When she left she made no mention of seeing Jane again, and she tells me she is now perfectly satisfied that Miss Bennet will not call again.
One day Bingley will be glad of our care. It is only this thought that reconciles me to the duplicity we have been forced to employ.
February
‘Caroline has suggested we go to Bath for the spring,’ said Bingley this morning. ‘Perhaps I might take a house there,’ he added nonchalantly.
I thought it was an encouraging sign that he has forgotten Hertfordshire.
‘That is an excellent idea,’ I said.
‘Would you like to come with us?’ he asked.
‘I have to go to Pemberley and make sure Johnson has everything well in hand. There are a number of changes I wish to make to the running of the home farm, and some further improvements I should like to make on the estate.’
‘Then I will see you again in the summer.’
Colonel Fitzwilliam has returned to town and he dined with me this evening, bringing me all the news from Rosings. He told me that Mr Collins has taken a wife. I held my breath, hoping that Hurst had been right when he had said that Elizabeth had refused Mr Collins.
‘She seems a very good sort of girl, although I should say woman. She appears to be approaching thirty,’ said my cousin.
I let go of my breath.
‘But this is a good thing,’ he went on. ‘A younger woman might have been intimidated by my aunt’s –’
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