Mr. Darcy's Diary, Amanda Grange [elon musk reading list TXT] 📗
- Author: Amanda Grange
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long prevented my forming any serious design. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. I am not ashamed
of the feelings I related. They were natural and just.
Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your
connections? To congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my
own?’
She was growing as angry as I was, yet she controlled
her temper sufficiently to reply.
‘You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the
mode of your declaration affected me in any other way,
than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt
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in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.’
I felt an intense shock. If I had behaved in a more
gentleman-like manner? When had I ever been anything
but a gentleman?
‘You could not have made me the offer of your hand
in any possible way that would have tempted me to
accept it,’ she said.
I could not believe it. She could never have accepted
my hand? Never accept a connection with the Darcy
family? Never accept all the benefits that would accrue
to her as my wife? It was madness. And to blame it, not
on my manner, but on my person! I looked at her with
open incredulity. I, who had been courted in drawingrooms the length and breadth of the land!
But she had not finished.
‘From the very beginning, from the first moment I
may almost say, of my acquaintance with you, your manners impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit and your selfish disdain of the
feelings of others, were such as to form that groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have
built so immoveable a dislike; and I had not known you
a month before I felt that you were the last man in the
world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.’
I felt incredulity give way to anger, and anger to
humiliation. My mortification was now complete.
‘You have said quite enough, madam,’ I told her curtly.
‘I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now
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only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive
me for having taken up so much of your time’ – and to
prove that I was, even now after such base insults, a gentleman, I added – ‘and accept my best wishes for your
health and happiness.’
Then, having delivered myself of my final proud
utterance, I left the room.
I returned to Rosings, walking blindly, seeing nothing
of my surroundings, seeing only Elizabeth. Elizabeth
telling me I had ruined her sister’s happiness. Elizabeth
telling me I had ruined George Wickham’s hopes. Elizabeth telling me I had not behaved like a gentleman. Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth.
I said not a word at dinner. I saw nothing, heard nothing, tasted nothing. I thought only of her.
Try as I might, I could not put her accusations out of
my mind. The charge that I had ruined her sister’s happiness might have some merit, though I had acted for the
best. The accusation that I had ruined Wickham’s hopes
was of another order. It impugned my honour, and I
could not let it rest.
‘A game of billiards, Darcy?’ asked Colonel Fitzwilliam,
when Lady Catherine and Anne retired for the night.
‘No.Thank you. I have a letter to write.’
He looked at me curiously but said nothing. I retired
to my room and took up my quill. I had to exonerate
myself. I had to answer her accusation. I had to show her
she was wrong. And yet how?
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My dear Miss Bennet
I scored through the lines as soon as I had written
them. She was not my dear Miss Bennet. I had not the
right to call her dear.
I crushed my piece of paper and threw it away.
Miss Bennet
The name conjured up an image of her sister. It would
not do.
I threw away a second sheet of paper.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet
No.
I tried again.
Madam, you have charged me with
She will not read it.
Be not alarmed, Madam, on receiving this let-
ter, by the apprehension of its containing any
repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of
those offers which were last night so disgusting
to you.
Better.
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I write without any intention of paining you,
or humbling myself by dwelling on wishes
which, for the happiness of both, cannot be too
soon forgotten.
Yes.The manner was formal but, I prided myself, not
stiff. It should relieve her immediate concerns and persuade her to read on. But what to write next? How to
put into words what I had to say?
I threw down my quill and walked over to the window. I looked out over the parkland as I gathered my
thoughts. The night was still. There were no clouds, and
the moon could be seen glistening in the sky. Beneath
that same moon, within the parsonage, was Elizabeth.
What was she thinking? Was she thinking about me?
About my proposal? About my sins?
My sins! I had no sins. I returned to my desk and read
over what I had written. I picked up my quill and continued. My words flowed easily.
Two offences of a very different nature, and by
no means of equal magnitude, you last night
laid to my charge.The first mentioned was that,
regardless of the sentiments of either, I had
detached Mr Bingley from your sister: and the
other, that I had, in defiance of various claims,
in defiance of honour and humanity, ruined the
immediate prosperity and blasted the prospects
of Mr Wickham.
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Blasted the prospects of that scoundrel! I had given
him every benefit, and he had repaid me by seeking to
ruin my sister. But the first charge must be answered
first.
I thought back to the autumn, when I had first arrived
in Hertfordshire. It was a few months ago only,
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