I smiled, but I was annoyed. She had hit on the very reason I could not pursue my feelings. I could never have Mrs Bennet for a mother-in-law. It would be insupportable. And as for the younger girls, to make them sisters to Georgiana – no, it could not be done.

‘Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?’ I asked, not letting her see my irritation, for it would only make her worse.

‘Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt Philips be placed in the gallery at Pemberley. As for your Elizabeth’s picture, you must not attempt to have it taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?’ she said in a droll voice.

I ignored her drollery, and imagined a portrait of Elizabeth hanging at Pemberley. I imagined another portrait hanging next to it, of Elizabeth and myself. The thought was pleasing to me and I smiled.

‘It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression, but their colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied,’ I mused.

Caroline was not pleased, and I found that I was glad to have vexed her. She was about to reply, when we were met from another walk by Louisa and Elizabeth herself.

Caroline was embarrassed, and well she might be. I, too, was uncomfortable. I did not think Elizabeth had overheard Caroline, but even if she had, it would not have disturbed her. She had not been perturbed when she had heard an uncharitable remark from me at the assembly.

As I looked at her, I was suddenly conscious of the fact that she was a guest in the house. I had been so busy thinking of her in another way that I had forgotten that she was staying with Bingley. I felt an uncomfortable pang as I realized that she had not met with any warmth or friendship during her stay. To be sure, she had met with politeness to her face, but even politeness had been lacking as soon as her back was turned. I had never felt so out of sympathy with Caroline…or in sympathy with Louisa, for she at least had taken the trouble to ask Elizabeth if she cared for a walk, which I had not. I berated myself for it. I was not averse to admiring her eyes, but I had done little to make her stay at Netherfield more enjoyable.

Louisa’s next words undid my charitable feelings towards her, however. Saying: ‘You used us abominably ill in running away without telling us that you were coming out,’ she took my free arm and left Elizabeth to stand alone.

I was mortified, and said at once: ‘The walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the avenue.’

But Elizabeth, who was not in the least mortified at being used so ill, merely smiled mischievously and said that we looked so well together the group would be spoilt by a fourth. Then wishing us goodbye she ran off gaily, like a child who suddenly finds herself free of the schoolroom. As I watched her run, I felt my spirits lift. I felt as though I, too, was suddenly free, free of the trammelled dignity of my life, and I longed to run after her.

‘Miss Eliza Bennet behaves as badly as her younger sisters,’ said Caroline mockingly.

‘She does not behave as badly as we do, however,’ I returned, annoyed. ‘She is a guest in your brother’s house, and as such she is entitled to our respect. She should not have to suffer our neglect, nor suffer our abuse the minute her back is turned.’

Caroline looked astonished and then displeased, but my expression was so forbidding that she fell silent. Bingley might complain about my awful expressions, but they have their uses.

I turned back to look at Elizabeth, but she had already passed out of sight. I did not see her again until dinnertime. She disappeared immediately afterwards, to see to her sister, but when Bingley and I joined the ladies in the drawing-room we found her with them.

Caroline’s eyes turned to me straight away. I could see that she was apprehensive. I had spoken to her sharply earlier in the day, and had not said a word to her since. I gave her a cool glance and then turned my attention to Miss Bennet, who was well enough to be downstairs, and who was sitting next to her sister.

Bingley was delighted to see that Miss Bennet was feeling better. He fussed around her, making sure the fire was high enough and that she was not in a draught. My expression softened. I could feel it doing so. He was treating her with all the care and attention she deserved, and I was reminded of why I like him so much and am happy to call him a friend. His manners might be so easy-going as to make him a target for anyone who wishes to sway him, but those same compliant manners make him an agreeable companion and a warm host. It was evident that Elizabeth thought so, too. I felt that, after our sparring, we had found common ground.

Caroline pretended to pay attention to the invalid, but in fact was more interested in my book, which I had taken up when we had decided not to play cards.

‘I declare there is no enjoyment like reading a book!’ she said, ignoring her own in favour of mine.

I did not reply. I was out of sympathy with her. Instead, I studiously applied myself to my book; which was a pity, as I would have liked to watch Elizabeth. The firelight playing on her skin was a sight I found mesmerizing.

Discovering that she could not make me talk, Caroline then disturbed her brother with talk of his ball, before taking a turn around the room. She was restless, and longing for attention. I, however, did not give it to her. She had offended me, and I was not ready to forgive her her offence.

‘Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a turn about the room.’

I could not help myself. I looked up. I saw a look of surprise cross Elizabeth’s face, and I wondered if my words to Caroline had affected her behaviour, pricking her conscience about her treatment of her brother’s guest.

But no such thing. She simply wanted my attention, and she had been clever enough to realize that this was the way to achieve it. Unconsciously, I closed my book.

‘Mr Darcy, will you not join us?’ said Caroline.

I declined.

‘There are only two reasons why you would wish to walk together, and my presence would interfere with both,’ I said.

My smile was not directed at Caroline, but at Elizabeth.

‘What can you mean?’ asked Caroline, amazed. ‘Miss Eliza Bennet, do you know?’

‘Not at all,’ was her answer. ‘But depend upon it, he means to be severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him, will be to ask nothing about it.’

I felt my blood stir. She was fencing with me, even though she was speaking to Caroline, and I was enjoying the experience.

Caroline, however, could not fence. Caroline could only say: ‘I must know what he means. Come, Mr Darcy, explain yourself.’

‘Very well. You are either in each other’s confidence and have secret affairs to discuss, or you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking; if the first, I should be completely in your way; and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire.’

‘Oh, shocking!’ exclaimed Caroline. ‘How shall we punish him for such a speech?’

‘Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination,’ said Elizabeth with a gleam in her eye. ‘Tease him – laugh at him. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done.’

‘Tease calmness of temper and presence of mind! And as to laughter, we will not expose ourselves, if you please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. Mr Darcy may hug himself.’

‘Mr Darcy is not to be laughed at!’ cried Elizabeth.

‘That is an uncommon advantage. I dearly love a laugh.’

And so do I. But I do not like to be laughed at. I could not say so, however.

‘Miss Bingley has given me credit for more than can be,’ I said. ‘The wisest of men may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke.’

‘I hope I never ridicule what is wise or good,’ she returned. ‘Follies and nonsense do divert me, but these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without.’

‘Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule.’

‘Such as vanity and pride.’

‘Vanity, yes. But where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will always be under good regulation,’ I said.

Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile.

I did not know why it should be, but her smile hurt me. I believe it made me short-tempered, for when she said: ‘Mr Darcy has no defect. He owns it himself without disguise,’ I was stung to reply: ‘I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It would perhaps be called resentful.

My good opinion once lost is lost for ever.’

As I spoke, I thought of George Wickham.

‘That is a failing indeed,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I really cannot laugh at it. You are safe from me.’

But I am not safe from you, I thought.

‘Do let us have a little music,’ said Caroline, tired of having no part in the conversation.

The pianoforte was opened, and she begged Elizabeth to play.

I was annoyed with her at the time, but after a few minutes I began to be glad of it.

I am paying Elizabeth far too much attention. She beguiles me. And yet it would be folly to find myself falling in love with her. I mean to marry quite a different sort of woman, one whose fortune and ancestry match my own. I will pay Elizabeth no more attention.


Saturday 16th November

Bingley and I rode to the east this morning and examined more of the estate. He was pleased with everything he saw and pronounced it all capital. I pointed out that the fences were broken and the land needed draining, but he said only: ‘Yes, I suppose it does. ’ I know he has an easy nature, but there was something more than his usual compliance in his manner. I suspected he was not really paying attention, but was worried about Miss Bennet. It is unfortunate that she should have been taken ill whilst visiting his sisters. It has set the household by the ears. It has also brought me too much into contact with Elizabeth.