Mr. Darcy's Diary, Amanda Grange [elon musk reading list TXT] 📗

need of further conversation by the

return of Mrs Collins and Maria.They were surprised to

see me there, but explaining my mistake I stayed only a

few minutes longer and then returned to Rosings.

Tuesday 15th April

Elizabeth has bewitched me. I am in far more danger

here than I ever was in Hertfordshire. There, I had her

family constantly before me, reminding me how impossible a match between us would be. Here, I have only her.

Her liveliness, her gaiety, her good humour, all tempt me

to abandon self-restraint and declare myself; but I must

not do it. I do not only have myself to consider. I have

my sister.

To expose Georgiana to the vulgarity of Mrs Bennet

would be an act of cruelty no brotherly devotion could

allow.And to present to Georgiana, as sisters, Mary, Kitty

and Lydia Bennet would be repulsive.To have her influenced by them, to force her into company with them –

for it could not be otherwise if I were to make Elizabeth

my wife – would be unforgivable.Worse still, she might

be forced to hear of George Wickham, who is a

favourite of the younger girls. No. I cannot do it. I will

not do it.

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I must beware, then, lest I let slip a word in Elizabeth’s

company. I must not let her know how I feel. She suspects my partiality I am sure. Indeed, by her lively nature

she has encouraged it, and no doubt she is waiting for me

to speak. If she married me she would be lifted out of her

sphere and elevated to mine. She would be joined in

matrimony to a man of superior character and understanding, and she would be the mistress of Pemberley. A

man of my character and reputation, wealth and position

would tempt any woman. But it must never be.

Thursday 17th April

I do not know what has come over me. I should be

avoiding Elizabeth, but every day when Colonel

Fitzwilliam goes to the parsonage, I go with him. I cannot deny myself the pleasure of looking at her. Her face

is not beautiful but it haunts me.

I have had enough resolution to say nothing, for fear

of saying too much, but my silence has begun to be

noticed.

‘Why are you silent when we go to the parsonage?’

asked Colonel Fitzwilliam as we returned home today.‘It

is not like you, Darcy.’

‘I have nothing to say.’

‘Come now! I have seen you talk to bishops and

ploughmen.You can always think of something to say to

them, however much you protest you find it difficult to

converse with strangers.And yet when you go to the parsonage, you do not open your mouth. It is most uncivil

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of you. The least you could do is ask after Mrs Collins’s

chickens, and ask Mr Collins how his sermons are coming along, and if you cannot think of anything to say to

the young ladies, you can always fall back on the

weather.’

‘I will endeavour to do better next time.’

But as I said it, I realized I must not go to the parsonage again. If I talk to Elizabeth, there is no telling where

it will lead. She looks at me archly sometimes, and I am

sure she is expecting me to declare myself.

Would a marriage between us really be so impossible?

I ask myself, but even as I wonder, an image of her family rises up before me, and I know it would. And so I am

determined to remain silent, for if I give in to a moment

of weakness, I will regret it for the rest of my life.

Saturday 19th April

I have remained true to my resolve not to visit the parsonage, but my good intentions have been thwarted by

my tendency to walk in the park, and three times now I

have come upon Elizabeth.The first time was by chance;

the second and third times, I seemed to find myself there

whether I would or not. From doing nothing more than

doffing my hat and asking after her health on the first

occasion, I have come to say more, and this morning I

betrayed my thoughts to an alarming degree.

‘You are enjoying your stay at Hunsford, I hope?’ I

asked her when I met her.

It was an innocent question.

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‘Yes, I am, thank you.’

‘You find Mr and Mrs Collins in good health?’

‘I do.’

‘And happy, I trust?’

‘I believe so.’

‘Rosings is a fine house.’

‘It is, though it is difficult to find my way about. I have

become lost on one or two occasions. When I tried to

find the library, I walked into the parlour instead.’

‘It is not to be expected that you would find your

way round it all at once. Next time you visit Kent you

will have a better opportunity to become acquainted

with it.’

She looked astonished at this, and I berated myself

inwardly. I had almost betrayed my feelings, which in that

incautious sentence had suggested the idea that the next

time she visited Kent she would be staying at Rosings,

and how could she do that unless she was my wife? But

indeed, it grows harder and harder to be circumspect. I

ought to leave at once, and put myself out of harm’s way.

But if I do, it will arouse comment, so I must endure a

little while longer. Colonel Fitzwilliam and I will be

leaving soon, and then I will be safe.

Tuesday 22nd April

I am in torment.After all my promises to myself.After all

my resolutions, this – this! – is the result.

I cannot believe the events of the last few hours. If

only I could put them down to a fever of the brain, but

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there is no doubt they happened. I have offered my hand

to Elizabeth Bennet.

I should not have gone to see her. I had no need to

do it, merely because she did not join us for tea. She

had a headache. What lady does not