Mr. Darcy's Diary, Amanda Grange [elon musk reading list TXT] 📗
- Author: Amanda Grange
Book online «Mr. Darcy's Diary, Amanda Grange [elon musk reading list TXT] 📗». Author Amanda Grange
that I have. I am no longer happy here. My house seems
lonely. I had never realized how large it is, or how empty.
If things had gone otherwise…but they did not.
I have much to do, and I will soon be too busy to
think of the past. During the days, I have business which
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must be attended to, and at night I mean to attend every
party and ball to which I have been invited. I will not
allow the events of the last few weeks to discompose me.
I have been a fool, but I will be a fool no more. I am
determined to forget Elizabeth.
Friday 25th April
‘Mr Darcy! How good of you to attend our little gathering!’ said Lady Susan Wigham as I entered her house
this evening.
It was comfortable to be back in a world of elegance
and taste, with not one vulgar person to mortify me.The
ballroom was full of refined people, many of whom I had
known all my life.
‘Do let me introduce you to my niece, Cordelia. She
is visiting me from the country. She is a charming girl,
and a graceful dancer.’
She presented Miss Farnham, a blonde beauty of some
nineteen or twenty years of age.
‘Would you care to dance, Miss Farnham?’ I asked.
She blushed prettily and whispered: ‘Thank you, yes.’
As I led her out on to the floor, I found my thoughts
straying to the Netherfield ball, but I quickly controlled
them and made myself think of Miss Farnham.
‘Have you been in town long?’ I asked her.
‘No, not very long,’ she said.
At least, I believe that is what she said. She has a habit
of whispering which makes it difficult to hear her.
‘Are you enjoying your stay?’
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‘Yes, I thank you.’
She relapsed into silence.
‘Have you been doing anything of interest?’ I asked.
‘No, not really,’ she said.
‘You have been to the theatre, perhaps?’
‘Yes.’
She said nothing more.
‘What play did you see?’ I coaxed her.
‘I cannot recall.’
‘You have been to one of the museums, perhaps?’ I
asked, thinking the change of subject might stimulate her.
‘I do not know. Is the museum the large building with
the columns outside? If so, I have been there. I did not
like it. It was very cold and draughty.’
‘Perhaps you prefer reading books to visiting museums?’ I asked her.
‘Not especially,’ she whispered. ‘Books are very difficult, are they not? They have so many words in them.’
‘It is one of their undeniable failings.’
Elizabeth would have smiled at this, but there was no
humour in Miss Farnham’s voice when she whispered:
‘That is exactly what I think.’
We lapsed into silence, but realizing that my thoughts
were beginning to turn to Elizabeth, I determined to
persevere.
‘Perhaps you like to sketch?’ I asked her.
‘Not especially,’ she said.
‘Is there anything you like to do?’ I asked, hearing a
note of exasperation in my voice.
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She looked up at me with more animation.
‘Oh, yes, indeed there is. I like playing with my kittens. I have three of them, Spot, Patch and Stripe. Spot
has a black spot, but otherwise he is entirely white. Patch
has a white patch on his back, and Stripe – ’
‘Allow me to guess. He has a stripe?’
‘Why, have you seen him?’ she asked in amazement.
‘No.’
‘You must have done, else how could you know?’ she
said, round-eyed.‘I think my aunt must have showed him
to you when I was out.’
She continued to talk of her kittens until the dance
was over.
I did not let my lack of success with my first partner
shake my resolve to enjoy myself, and I danced every
dance. I came home pleased that I had not thought of
Elizabeth above two or three times all evening.
Does she think of me ever? Does she, perhaps, think of
my letter? I am satisfied that she believed me when I
spoke of Wickham, for she has not asked my cousin about
it, but does she understand why I spoke to her as I did
when I offered her my hand? She must. She cannot be
unaware of her low position in life, and on reflection she
has undoubtedly decided that it was not ungentlemanlike of me to speak to her in such a manner. She must
have realized I was right to do so.
And what of her feelings on the way I dealt with her
sister’s affections? She sees now, I hope, that I acted for the
best. She cannot fail to understand, or to acknowledge
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that what I did was right.
As for George Wickham, she knows him now for the
scoundrel he is. But does she still have feelings for him?
Does she still prefer his company to mine? Is she laughing with him at this moment, in her aunt’s house? Does
she think it better to speak to a man who has all the
appearance of gentility, than one who has true worth?
If she should marry him…
I will not think of it. If I do, I will go mad.
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May
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Wednesday 7th May
I met Bingley at Lady Jessop’s ball this evening. He has
been in the north, visiting his family, and he has now
returned to town.
‘Darcy! I did not expect to find you here.’
‘Nor I you.’
‘How did you enjoy your stay with your aunt?’
‘It was well enough,’ I replied.‘Did you enjoy yourself
in the north?’
‘Yes,’ he said, but there was a lack of spirit in his voice.
Have I done wrong in separating him from Miss Bennet? I wonder. He has found no new flirt since her, and
though he danced all evening, he never asked any young
lady to dance more than once.
My own evening was no more enjoyable. I was
claimed by
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