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

The clerk, Mr. Bartholomew Mason, appealed to Mr. Darcy, who agreed and sent Mr. Mason away so that we could talk on our own.

Now that we finally were alone, I sat down in front of Darcy’s desk, at ease.

“Forgive me, but this was the best that I could do at getting us alone,” I began. “If we were to try and speak anywhere else, I feared that we would have an audience of eavesdroppers.”

His eyes were warm and inviting. “Your instinct was akin to my own. I am happy that you and I think so alike at times.”

“Well, it does add peace to our relationship sometimes, no matter how brief,” I jested. “First, again, Mr. Darcy, I would like to thank you for letting us stay here. Jane and I are truly happy.”

“I am glad of it. Really, I am, Miss Elizabeth.”

“I do not know why you were stricken with such gallantry and chivalry, but I like that you were.”

“I did it for selfish reasons,” he said. “There is something about your company that I like a great deal.”

“Never fear, for I feel the same. Now, before we run out of time, we have to discuss an interesting subject.”

“Yes.” Mr. Darcy expelled a sigh. “Yes, we do.”

“Your cousin and my sister.”

“Yes, them. So, you did notice it as well?”

“From the moment they met each other,” I answered.

“Am I reading your behavior incorrectly once more, or do I get the sense that you are neither surprised nor unperturbed by this?”

“That is the side effect to having a beautiful sister,” I elaborated. “You are so used to men falling in love with her, that you are used to seeing the charm ignite between her and another man very quickly. Is the Colonel smitten with her?”

“Yes, he is. Very much so.”

“And let me see if I got this right,” I continued, as if I were reciting a routine. “He yearns from within, having never met such an angel before. And now that he has met her, he is even considering the prospect of marrying her, despite her lack of dowry and his dependency on his profession. He wonders that maybe he could economize and support them both. And he feels that my sister has the ability to survive well on such an income, despite that he is not used to it himself. For with Jane, all is possible.”

He answered, “You clearly sound as if you have seen this happen a great deal.”

“I have seen men write poetry to my sister. And you know how some men hate poetry! Yes, they always start out enraptured with her. And then the inevitable happens.”

“What?”

“He wakes up to another reality: the reality where he weighs the demands of his pocketbook higher than the demands of his heart. And he returns to that reality, having fallen from the lofty heights of the bliss he experienced when he would serenade my sister. And he falls from the heavens, becoming hard and stern, as he stands up and returns to another part of England, where rationality reigns over him, and his heart gets a little colder in the process.” I turned and looked at him. “Many a man and woman have abandoned a true love when the great master: Gain, has called for them. For what are we humans to each, when it comes to love; I cannot help but that some of us regard others of us as playthings.”

“I have seen evidence of such, myself. Do you think my cousin will fall into the category of those men that you had mentioned previously? Do you think that eventually, he will relinquish Miss Bennet as something of interest?”

“First, I cannot be certain. He is your cousin and even you cannot be certain what he is going to do. With love, we all can fall in different directions. I want to believe that, once he overcomes his infatuation, he shall simply enjoy her company and move on. But is that the right thing to hope for? If it be so, my hope is that he merely toys with her, and that is not fair either.”

Darcy studied me. “I thought that you would be disturbed by this. After all, you and I have done so much to bring Jane and Mr. Bingley together again and make it a magical moment for the both of them.”

“I know, but I am not worried, I find. And do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because life is short,” I answered. “So, why are we so frightened of romantic complications? If Colonel Fitzwilliam is charmed by my sister, inform him of Mr. Bingley.”

“I have.”

“Good. Then as for the rest, let it play itself out as it is. The Colonel will either feel deeply for her, or less deeply. You have told him about Mr. Bingley, therefore, you have done your duty. I will speak to Jane about the Colonel, but I will not influence her. For she and the Colonel are both adults. They are capable of making their own decisions and recovering from their own confusion and complications.” I paused and gave him a steady look.

“Do you ever wonder that maybe we humans have a tendency to create our own heavens and our own hells? By concerning ourselves with romantic matters such as these, to the point where we are allowing ourselves to worry about them, maybe we are giving ourselves too much unnecessary grief. Again, I will inform Jane, and allow her to be put on her guard, but for now, let them just enjoy the comforts of each other’s charms. The worst that can happen is that one gets heartbroken from that; no confident individual ever fully died from that. Perhaps they cried, were pained, and were distraught for a bit, but no, no one ever died.”

Mr. Darcy leaned back in his chair and looked at me.

“I am so used to overseeing things,” he gathered, “that I suppose the idea of letting things take their course has never