Darcy's Diary (2 page)

‘I have displeased you.'

‘Not at all,' I said, striving for my composure. ‘
You
have done nothing wrong.'

‘I did not mean to fall in love with him, really I did not,' she said imploringly. ‘I know I am very young, but he told me so many pleasing stories about the future that I came to look on our marriage as a settled thing.'

‘Marriage?' I exclaimed in horror.

‘He … he said he loved me, and he reminded me of when I had said I loved him.'

‘When did you say so?' I demanded.

‘When I fell off the gate in the courtyard and he picked me up.'

‘But you were seven years old!'

‘Of course, it was just a childish thing to say at the time, but the more I saw of him here, the more I became convinced I was in love with him in earnest. Only I did not like to think of deceiving you. I wanted everything to be open. I told him he must ask you for my hand in the ordinary way, but he said you would not let us marry until I was eighteen, and that it would be a waste of three precious years of our life together. He said we should elope, and then send you a letter from the Lake District afterwards.'

‘And did you agree to this?' I asked, stricken.

Her voice dropped.

‘I thought it sounded like an adventure. But now that I see you, and know how much it grieves you, it does not seem to be like an adventure at all.'

‘It is not. It is trickery of the basest kind. He has made love to you in order to gain your fortune, and in order to hurt me! To persuade you to forget friends and family and run away with him to your utter ruin, is monstrous!'

‘No!' she exclaimed. ‘It is not so. He loves me.'

I saw the fear in her eyes and I did not want to go on. For her to learn that the rogue had never loved her must hurt her. But I could not let her continue under such a misapprehension.

‘I do not want to tell you this, Georgiana,' I said softly, ‘but I must. He does not love you. He has used you.'

At this she broke down. I was helpless in the face of her tears. I did not know what to do, how to comfort her, and in that moment I missed my mother more than I have ever done. She would have known what to do. She would have known what to say. She would have known how to comfort her daughter, whose affections had been played upon. I could only stand helplessly by and wait for Georgiana's grief to spend itself.

When her tears began to subside, I handed her my handkerchief. She took it and blew her nose.

‘I must speak to Mrs Younge and make sure she knows what has been going on behind her back,' I said. ‘It has been negligent of her not to notice.'

Something in Georgiana's expression stopped me.

‘It
was
behind her back?' I asked.

Georgiana looked down into her lap.

‘She helped me plan the elopement.'

I felt myself grow grim.

‘Did she indeed.'

Georgiana nodded miserably. I was cut to the heart by the sight of it. For my sister's happiness to be destroyed by such a worthless man!

I put my hand on her shoulder.

‘Never fear, Georgie,' I said, overcome with tenderness. ‘When you are older you will meet a man who will love you for yourself. A good-natured, charming, respectable man, who is liked by your family. A man who will ask me for your hand in the proper manner. There will be no need for an elopement. You will have a grand wedding, with splendid wedding clothes and a honeymoon wherever you wish.'

She tried to smile, and she put her hand on mine.

‘I have been a sore trial to you,' she said.

‘Never,' I told her gently.

I wanted to find something to distract her thoughts from their unhappy path. I glanced around the room and my eye came to rest on one of her sketches.

‘This is well done,' I said. ‘I see you have caught the fishing boats just coming in from the sea.'

‘Yes, I had to get up very early to catch them. The fishermen were surprised to see me sitting there,' she said.

I was pleased to see that she put aside my handkerchief as she took the sketch, and to hear that her voice was stronger.

‘Perhaps you would like to finish it. Can you do so indoors, or would you need to go out again?'

‘No, I can do it here. I have done enough to show me what is needed.'

‘Good. Then I will leave you for a few minutes whilst I talk to Mrs Younge.'

‘You will not be angry with her?' asked Georgiana.

‘I will be very angry with her. She will pack her bags and leave this house within the hour.'

My conversation with Mrs Younge was not pleasant. First of all she denied all knowledge of a friendship between my sister and Wickham, saying she had never admitted him to the house and indeed that she did not know such a man.

To hear her call my sister a liar made me more angry than I have ever been and she shrank, admitting at last that she had encouraged Georgiana's friendship with him. Upon further enquiry I found that Mrs Younge had known Wickham previously, and had planned the first meeting between him and Georgiana. She had then told him where they would be every day, so that he could arrange several further ‘chance' encounters. After this she had encouraged Georgiana to invite him to the house, and had taught her to see him, first as a friend and then as a lover.

‘And why shouldn't I?' she asked when I berated her. ‘After he's been so badly dealt with by you. Why shouldn't he have what's owing to him, and a little bit of fun besides?'

I had been going to allow her an hour in which to pack, but I changed my mind.

‘You will leave this house immediately,' I said to her coldly. ‘I will send your boxes on.'

She seemed about to refuse, when one glance at my face told her it would be unwise. She muttered curses under her breath, but put on her cloak and bonnet, then gathering up her basket she left the house.

When my anger had cooled, I wrote to Wickham, Mrs Younge having given me his address, telling him that he must leave Ramsgate at once. Furthermore, I told him that if he ever attempted to see or speak to Georgiana again I would ruin him.

I am still angry as I write. That he could have done anything so underhand. That he could have used Georgiana in his schemes, his playmate of gentler times…. He is lost to all decency. I am almost tempted to expose him, but if I do so, Georgiana's reputation will suffer. I must hope that his experiences in this matter will prevent him from ever doing anything like it again.

I have brought Georgiana back to London. She will stay with me until I can find a new companion for her. After the trouble with Mrs Younge, I am afraid to leave her, but I know it must be done. I cannot be always in London, and she cannot be always travelling with me. She must attend to her studies. However, I mean to make sure I am not deceived in a companion again. I will not only follow up references, I will visit former employers and satisfy myself as to their honesty, and the prospective companion's suitability, before leaving Georgiana in her charge.

It is a comfort to me to know that as long as Georgiana is in London, she will have the protection of a faithful butler and housekeeper. They have been with the family for many years, and will soon alert me if anything is amiss. I do not mean to send Georgiana away from the city again, unless I can go with her.

‘I have discovered a lady who might suit Georgiana,' said Colonel Fitzwilliam when he dined with me this evening.

As he is joined with me in Georgiana's guardianship, I had told him what had happened in Ramsgate.

‘Who is she?'

‘A Mrs Annesley. She comes from a good family, and her time with my friends, the Hammonds, is coming to an end.'

‘Have you met her?'

‘Yes, on a number of occasions. I know the Hammonds have been very pleased with her.'

‘Then I will call on the Hammonds tomorrow and see what can be arranged.'

I called on the Hammonds and found Mrs Annesley to be a genteel, agreeable-looking woman who impressed me favourably with her breeding and her discourse. She will take up her position with Georgiana next week. I will remain in town for a few weeks to make sure she is as suitable as she appears, and then I intend to make several unexpected visits over the next
few months to satisfy myself that everything is in order.

In the meantime, Georgiana's schoolfriend will be arriving soon. It will do her good to have some company of her own age.

Mrs Annesley arrived this morning. She and Georgiana have discovered a liking for each other and I think the relationship will prove to be a happy one. She is delighted to know that one of Georgiana's schoolfriends is to visit, and she has arranged a variety of outings for the girls. I hope this will complete Georgiana's recovery from her affair with Wickham. I am persuaded that by Christmas she will have put the whole incident out of her mind.

Now that Georgiana is settled I feel confident about leaving her whenever Bingley has need of me. It is fortunate, for if I let him choose his own estate he will choose one with a flooding river, or rats, or an exorbitant rent. He will declare it capital and close with the agent before he has realized what he is about, and then he will ask me how he is to extricate himself from his predicament. It is far better that I help him to begin with, rather than having to rescue him at a later date.

I must confess I am looking forward to seeing him again. I am tired of London, and looking forward to a visit to the country.

I have had a letter from Bingley.

I left London today and met Bingley at Netherfield Park. I had forgotten what good company he is, always ready to be pleased and always cheerful. After my difficult summer, it is good to be with him again.

‘Darcy! I knew I could rely on you. How was your summer? Not as trying as mine, I'll wager.'

I said nothing, which he took to be an assent.

‘Caroline has been plaguing me these last three months, but now that I have found an estate I hope she will be satisfied.'

Bingley was, of course, delighted with everything he saw. He said how splendid it was and asked no sensible questions, but instead walked around with his hands behind his back as though he had lived there for the last twenty years. He was pleased with the situation and the principal rooms, and satisfied with what the agent, Mr Morris, said in its praise. He asked nothing about the chimneys, or the game, or the lake, or indeed anything at all.

‘Is it sound?' I asked Mr Morris.

He assured me it was, but I inspected it carefully all the same.

‘Will it be easy to find servants in the neighbourhood? My friend will be bringing some of his own, but he will need maids, gardeners and stable-hands from the local area.'

‘He will not find any difficulty in procuring them from Meryton.'

‘What do you think, Darcy?' asked Bingley, when we had completed our tour.

‘The price is far too high.'

Mr Morris insisted it was fair, but he was soon brought to realize that it was excessive, and a far lower sum was settled on.

‘Upon my honour, Darcy, I would not like to try and stand against you
when your mind is made up. Poor Mr Morris might as well have agreed with you straight away, and saved himself the effort of trying to argue with you!' said Bingley, when he had closed with the agent.

He might laugh, but he will thank me for my care when he is well settled.

‘When do you mean to take possession?' I asked him.

‘As soon as possible. Before Michaelmas, certainly.'

‘You should send some of your servants down before you, then they can make sure that the house is ready for your arrival.'

‘You think of everything! I will have them here by the end of next week.'

I was glad he had taken my advice. If not, he would have arrived at the same time as his servants, and then wondered why there was no dinner waiting for him.

‘Darcy, welcome to my estate!' said Bingley when I joined him at Netherfield Park this afternoon. His sisters, Caroline and Louisa, were with him, as was Louisa's husband, Mr Hurst. ‘The house, the neighbourhood, everything is exactly as I would wish it to be.'

‘The estate is well enough, but the neighbourhood is small, with very few families,' I pointed out. ‘I warned you of it at the time.'

‘There are plenty of families,' he said. ‘Enough for us to dine with, and what more do we want?'

‘Superior company?' asked Caroline satirically. ‘Entertaining conversation?'

‘I am sure we will find plenty of it,' said Bingley.

‘You should have let me help you choose the house,' said Caroline.

‘I did not need your help, I had Darcy's,' said Bingley.

‘And a good thing too. I was only saying to Louisa this morning that you could not have found a better one,' said Caroline, smiling at me.

‘Upon my honour, I can think of no finer country than Hertfordshire,' said Bingley.

He is delighted with the neighbourhood at the moment, but I think he will find it dull if he settles here for any length of time. It is unlikely, however. He is so capricious he will probably be off again in a month. I said as much to Caroline after dinner.

‘Very likely,' she said. ‘Until then, we must be thankful we have each other's company.'

This has been our first full day at Netherfield Park. Caroline has managed
things well, and she was particularly pleased when I commented that no one would guess it was a rented house. She has had some trouble with the servants hired from the surrounding neighbourhood, but it is to her credit that the household is running smoothly.

The neighbourhood visits have begun. It is a bore, but it was only to be expected. Sir William and Lady Lucas called this morning. Bingley thought them very civil, on account of Sir William bowing every two minutes and mentioning that he had been presented at St James's. Caroline suspected that their haste in calling marked them out as the parents of an elderly, unattractive spinster whom they wished to see married, and she told Bingley so as soon as they had departed.

‘Depend upon it, they have a daughter nearing thirty and intend to pass her off as one and twenty!' she warned him.

Bingley laughed.

‘I am sure they do not have a daughter at all, and if they do, I am sure she is positively charming!'

‘Caroline is right,' said Louisa. ‘One of the housemaids told me the Lucases have a daughter named Charlotte. Charlotte is unmarried, and is seven-and-twenty.'

‘That does not stop her being charming. I am sure she is a delightful young lady,' protested Bingley.

‘And I am sure she is a homely body who is always helping her mother about the pies,' said Caroline in a droll voice.

‘Well, I think it was very good of the Lucases to call, and even better of them to invite us to the Meryton assembly,' said Bingley stoutly.

‘The Meryton assembly! God save me from country assemblies!' I remarked.

‘You have been spoilt by superior company,' said Caroline.

‘I have indeed. The London assemblies are full of the most elegant people in the country.'

For some reason she did not smile at this remark. I cannot think why. She smiles at everything else I say, and she must surely have been thinking of my London acquaintance, for whom else could she have meant?

Sir William and Lady Lucas were not our only callers today. They were followed by a Mr Bennet. He seems to be a gentlemanlike man.

‘He has five daughters,' said Caroline, when he had gone.

‘Pretty girls,' said Mr Hurst, rousing himself from his stupor. ‘Saw 'em in Meryton. Handsome, the lot of 'em.'

‘There you are!' said Bingley. ‘I knew I had chosen well in settling at Netherfield. There will be plenty of pretty girls to dance with.'

‘I know what you are thinking,' Caroline remarked, on seeing my expression. ‘You are thinking it would be a bore to be forced to stand up with a country wench. But you need not do so. Charles will make a spectacle of himself, no doubt, but you need not. No one will expect you to dance.'

‘I hope not,' I said. ‘The idea of standing up with people I do not know is insupportable to me.'

Bingley laughed.

‘Come now, Darcy, this is not like you. You are not usually so stiff-necked. It is the weather. Only let the rain stop, and you will be as eager to dance as I am.'

Bingley is an optimist.

Bingley and I rode round part of the estate this morning. It has been kept in good order, and if he means to buy it, I think it might be suitable. But I will wait to see if he settles. He is just as likely to decide he wants to buy an estate in Kent, or Cheshire, or Suffolk next week.

He soon suggested we turn back.

‘I thought I might pay the Bennets a visit,' he said nonchalantly, as we trotted back to the house.

‘Eager to see the Miss Bennets?' I asked him.

He took it in good part.

‘I know you think I fall in and out of love every few weeks, but it is simply that I feel it would be polite to return Mr Bennet's call.'

We parted company, he to ride to Longbourn, and I to return to Netherfield. He was not gone long.

‘Well, did you see the five beautiful daughters you have heard so much about?' I asked when he returned.

‘No,' he said gloomily. ‘I sat in Mr Bennet's library for about ten minutes but never had a glimpse of the girls.'