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

“Oh, I have never sat to have my silhouette done before,” Jane remarked. “It would be a very interesting experience. I hope that I can sit still for long enough.”

“I am certain that you can. Darcy, do you mind?”

“Not at all, Richard,” Darcy allowed, “you know where the kit is.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam arranged for a servant to retrieve the kit for him while he chose the best place for Jane to sit.

Darcy and I gave them a look and we sat down on the other side of the room, nearer to the windows.

“Do you like your time as my guest so far?” he asked.

“Yes,” I responded, animated. “Do you not see the happiness on my sister’s face and mine as well?”

“I just wished to confirm it.”

“We like it. Yet, it is like a dream and that is a hard thing.”

He gave me a quizzical look. “How so?”

“Well, dreams are like everything else. You wake up, and real life is waiting for you. You come down, and when you do, you come down in a hard sort of manner. You wake up, return home and the dream is like a natural sort of illumination. You believe in that light, you wish to see it again, and when you do, you keep chasing after it, and sometimes you get so close to it that you feel as if you shall grasp it one day.”

“Why do you believe that you will never grasp it again?”

“Because dreams are not meant to last. And perhaps it is better that way. For, if life were a quick succession of dreams coming true, then I suppose you would never know what dreams were any longer, for they had quite replaced the reality.”

So lost was I in my own world, that I did not pay attention to Mr. Darcy. At last, when I did look on him again, he seemed fidgety. I wondered if he had even heard what I had said.

“Have I made you uncomfortable?” I asked. “Or did you not hear me?”

“I did,” he responded very quickly. “It is just…your words were so prettily said that I did not know how to respond. I felt quite inferior to you then. I marveled at it because I have felt it often. It almost seems not fair, does it not?”

“What?”

“That we spend our lives chasing down happy moments.”

“If we spend our lives chasing down the happy moments, enraged when we do not find them, then it makes you wonder… were we ever living to begin with.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean that if we are always chasing after things and never able to be fully able to consistently just enjoy our lives, then were we ever in the present? To always be chasing down a future is—is it really us being alive?”

“A very good question. And I refuse to answer it.”

“What!”

“Well, I just realized that I want you to enjoy my company. If I reveal all my very best conversations soon into your coming, then we shall have nothing left to talk about by the middle of your visit. I do not want you to get bored with me.”

“Ah, you are worried that we shall run out of things to say.”

“I know that I shall. That is often the way with me.”

His sensitivity warmed me. “That is the way with everyone. Eventually, everyone runs out of things to say to each other. The trick is to accept that when it arrives. People run out of words to say to each other, and that’s when you have arrived at that point where you are allowed to be silent in their company. That is when the silence becomes comfortable. When we first met, the silence between us was hard because it was so very dense and awkward. We had not arrived at the spot where the silence was comfortable yet.”

“That was my fault. I know.”

“No need to reflect on whose fault it was. But you are quite right. Let us save our more compelling topics for tomorrow and find ways of filling up the space in between. When is your sister to join us again?”

“In two days. The day after Miss Kitty’s arrival. And I should ask, how did your sister take the news of coming here?”

“She loves it.”

“Is that the truth?”

I bit my lip and then realized that the truth would not hurt.

“Oh, very well. She is overjoyed at the idea of it. But she still is quite intimidated by you. She has not said as such in her letter, but I have been her sister for practically my entire life. I know how to read between the words that she has written. I also have a distinct memory of her history with you. She stands in awe of you.”

Mr. Darcy looked ahead, and I did not wish for him to feel insecure over it.

“It is not her fault, you see,” I furthered. “You must understand. You are a large man, with a large presence, and from a larger world than ours. She cannot help but feel affected by you and feel intimidated. I daresay, she is like everyone else in this world.”

“Very well. What should I do to remedy this situation? Is there any way that I can change her opinion of me?”

“I like that question,” I pointed out, giving him a warm smile. “I like that you want her good opinion. That is very flattering. Also, you asked yourself how you could earn her esteem rather than she earning your respect. That means that you are broadening your desire to have people like you. It is a very good thing.”

Mr. Darcy chuckled. It was lovely to witness.

“That is it,” I realized, “that is what you can do.”

“Pardon?”

“When you see her, smile at her. It does not have to be a frequent thing. Just smile at her once you see her when she arrives. That will help her feel at ease. It will help her love you.”

“And done!” Colonel Fitzwilliam announced.

This sudden declaration seemed to break a