Amanda Grange: Mr. Darcy's Diary

‘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 Misses Bennet?’ 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.’

Bingley’s spirits were restored by an invitation from Mrs Bennet, asking him to join the family for dinner.

‘But I cannot go!’ he said, crestfallen. ‘They ask me for tomorrow, and I have to be in town.’

‘My dear Bingley, both they and you will survive.

Besides, you will see them at the Meryton assembly.’

He brightened at this. ‘Yes, I will.’

Bingley went to town today. It is as I thought. He will never settle in the country. Already he is growing restless.

I will not be surprised if he quits Netherfield before Christmas.

We have been to the Meryton assembly, and it was even worse than I had expected. We had not been there five minutes before I heard one woman – I hesitate to call her a lady – whispering to another that I had ten thousand a year. It is of all things the one I hate the most, to be courted for my wealth. The whisper ran round the room, and I found myself being looked at as though I was a pot of gold. It did nothing to improve my enjoyment of the evening. Luckily, I did not need to mix with the local people. Though we were a small party, Caroline, Mr and Mrs Hurst and I endeavoured to entertain each other.

Bingley threw himself into the affair as he always does. He, of course, was well liked. He always is. He has an ease of manner which recommends him everywhere he goes. I heard a number of comments on his fine person and his handsome face. I, too, was described as a handsome man, until I snubbed Mrs Carlisle. She made a presumptuous remark and I was irritated into giving her a set-down: not two minutes before, she had been whispering to her neighbour that she meant to get my ten thousand a year for her daughter, and then, when she introduced her daughter, she had the audacity to say to my face that she thought wealth was immaterial in marriage, and that what mattered was mutual affection.

Bingley danced every dance, much to Caroline’s amusement.

‘He will be in love again before the evening is out,’ she said.

I agreed. I have never known a man fall in and out of love so easily. Let him see a pretty face and pretty manners, and he looks no further.

I danced once with Mrs Hurst, but the musicians were so poor that once was enough. I declined to be introduced to any other young ladies and contented myself with walking around the room until Bingley should have danced himself to a standstill. Not that it was easy to avoid partners. There were several young ladies sitting around the sides of the room. One of them was a sister of the lady who had taken Bingley’s fancy, and Bingley decided he wanted to see me dance with her.

‘Come, Darcy,’ said he, ‘I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.’

‘I certainly shall not. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room, whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with,’ I said, not in a mood to be pleased with anything.

‘I would not be as fastidious as you are for a kingdom!

Upon my honour, I never met with so many pretty girls in my life.’

‘You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,’ I reminded him, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.

‘Oh! she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld!

But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say, very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.’

‘Which do you mean?’ I asked him, looking round. I noticed Miss Elizabeth Bennet, then, catching her eye, I was forced to look away. ‘She is tolerable,’ I admitted,‘but not handsome enough to tempt me, and I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men.’

Caroline understood my feelings very well.

‘These people!’ she said to me. ‘They have no style and no fashion, and yet they are all so pleased with themselves! Do you know I was forced to smile politely whilst Mary Bennet was described to me as the most accomplished girl in the neighbourhood? If she was half, nay one tenth, as accomplished as Georgiana I should be very surprised.’

‘But then that would be difficult,’ I said. ‘Georgiana is unusually gifted.’

‘Indeed she is. I dote on her,’ said Caroline. ‘I declare, she is quite like a sister to me.’

Perhaps in time she will really be a sister to Caroline.

Not that I said anything of this to her, but Bingley is a good-natured man with an adequate fortune, and will make a good husband. I had not thought to arrange a marriage for Georgiana before she was one-and-twenty, but after the affair with George Wickham, I have begun to think that it would not be a bad thing to marry her sooner. Once wed to Bingley, she would be safe from scoundrels of Wickham’s stamp. I am not sure that Meryton would suit her, though. If Bingley shows any inclination to leave, I will encourage it. I would like to have her closer to me, in Derbyshire, or in Cheshire, perhaps. Then she could visit me in a few hours if she had a mind to.

We returned home at last.

‘I have never met with pleasanter people or prettier girls in my life,’ said Bingley, as we retired to the drawingroom. ‘Everyone was most kind and attentive. There was no formality, no stiffness. I soon felt myself acquainted with everyone in the room. As to Miss Bennet, I cannot conceive of an angel more beautiful.’

Caroline cast me a satirical glance. In Brighton, Bingley had told us that Miss Hart was the most entrancing creature he had ever seen. In London it had been Miss Pargeter. It seems that in Meryton, Miss Bennet is to be his choice.

‘She is a very sweet girl,’ Caroline allowed.

‘She is pretty,’ I said. It is always better to humour Bingley in these moods. ‘But she smiles too much.’

‘To be sure, she does smile too much,’ agreed Louisa, ‘but she is still a sweet girl. I believe we may make a friend of her whilst we are here, Caroline?’

‘By all means,’ said Caroline, adding, ‘We must have someone to help us while away the tedious hours, and to amuse us whilst the gentlemen are out.’

The only thing that lingers in my mind as I write is the look I caught in Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s eye when I remarked that she was not handsome enough to tempt me to dance. If I did not know better, I would think it had been satirical. I am not quite easy that she should have overheard me, but it was not my intention that the words should reach her ears. Besides, it would be foolish to worry about her feelings. Her temperament is not delicate, and if she takes after her mother she will suffer no hurt. That abominable woman roundly condemned me for my chance remark, describing me to anyone who would listen as the most proud, disagreeable man in the world, and saying she hoped I would never come there again.