Chances Come, Ney Mitch [snow like ashes series TXT] 📗

“So, you no longer feel discomfort towards him at all?”

“No. It has been many weeks now since I have found him to be one of the most goodhearted men of my acquaintance. And I can see now that I have remained too close-mouthed about my ever-changing feelings for him. Jane, since our father passed away, there was a change within me. And then, when I saw Mr. Darcy again at Rosings Park, I had decided that it was pointless to go on and remain angry. I tried to be amicable and kind towards Mr. Darcy, and he reciprocated the sentiment. Indeed, he was so warm and enjoyable to be around, that I began to realize that I would actively seek out his company. I grew… fond of him.”

Jane leaned in closely.

“Lizzy, are you being serious?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Are you telling me that you are in love with him?”

“I do not know,” I spoke truthfully, still pacing back and forth. “That is the very problem with love and with our lives. For so long we comment and consider the idea of being in love, and yet, I daresay that because we dream about it, we do not understand what the difference between dreams and reality are. I know not if I love him. It cannot be love. I just… I do not understand what I am feeling. Am I being nonsensical?”

“No, you are not. Being in love is a tricky concept. For, I have often observed, when it comes to being our age and being women it is very easy to be in love with the idea of being in love, rather than knowing what love is especially.”

“Precisely. My respect and admiration for him have been coming on so gradually, that I cannot tell you what I am feeling. But I know that it cannot be love. It is too soon to be love. I just know that, between seeing him again at Rosings, and us speaking now, that I like him. Yet, for the moment, I cannot say anything more than that.”

“I would suggest that you speak with our aunt about it. She loves our uncle, so she must know, or at least have experienced what you are going through now.”

“Well, you were in love with Bingley, so you also know what love feels like.”

Jane looked down at the floor.

“Yes,” she continued, “but he does not reciprocate that love. This may very well be different.”

“I am certain that Bingley does love you.”

“Let us not talk of me now. Let us talk of other things; let us talk of you. Speak to our aunt, Lizzy, and do not be afraid to take her into your confidence. After all, what are aunts for?”

“While it is always dangerous to try and predict what is in other people’s minds,” my aunt began, “I shall tread carefully.”

I had taken Jane’s advice and gone to speak with her. Together, we sat in a parlor, quite alone, and Jane had been correct. Aunt Gardiner had been eager to talk with me about a variety of thoughts that she had had about Mr. Darcy and myself.

“While Mr. Darcy may or may not be fully in love with you,” she announced, “he is very much on his way to being so.”

“You really think so?”

“Oh yes. Men such as him are drawn to women such as yourself.”

“Me? Why ever for? He did not even find me handsome when we first met. Besides, with men such as him, I thought he would be more likely of looking for utter perfection in a woman. I thought a man like him would lean more towards seeking out the Jane Bennets of the world.”

“If he were a simple sort of wealthy gentleman, then perhaps he would,” she gathered, “however, I have often found, with men such as him, that there is a hidden and very clandestine sort of eccentricity to them. They are so used to having everything perfect around them, that life must be a pretty drear thing or sometimes can appear as stale. You are the sort of woman who has a flavor to her. You have a spark of life that any man of true taste would find alluring. Also, you have a habit of bringing men like him out of his isolated cloud. Therefore, between men such as him and women such as you, it is the situation of a moth being drawn to a flame.”

“I do not intend to burn him, Aunt,” I answered with a nervous chuckle.

“Love burns us all when we first feel it. And now, we turn to how you are feeling about this all. You are very confused, and you have a right to be.”

“Thank you.”

“Yes, for when being young, be you man or woman, one is so determined to be in love, that we are left to wonder if we are truly feeling love, or are we telling ourselves that we are?”

“Yet, that is the only matter of my life,” I pointed out, “I have gone through that phase in life where I felt that love was my defining purpose. However, it is not now. It has been years since I have needed love or an attachment to give me fulfillment in life. In truth, I did not seek to feel any sort of affection for Mr. Darcy, nor did I even attempt to have an attachment.”

Aunt Gardiner squinted and her expression altered to looking quizzical.

“You did not?”

“No, faith, I did not,” I denied. “I merely just sought him out to make peace with him, at first, and also to help gather knowledge of Mr. Bingley’s feelings towards Jane.”

“Mr. Bingley?”

“Oh, yes. Perhaps it would be best if I clarified. His friend, Mr. Bingley, was in love with Jane. But he suddenly left Hertfordshire before ever making a proposal to her, and we have not heard from him since. A motive of my sending Jane here was a hope that she and Mr. Bingley would encounter each other,