Amanda Grange - Mr. Darcy's Diary

Have I done the right thing in establishing Georgiana in London, I wonder? The summer is proving to be very hot, and when I visited her this morning, I found her lacking her usual energy. I think I will send her to the coast for a holiday.

I have instructed Hargreaves to look for a suitable house in Margate, or perhaps in Ramsgate, for Georgiana. I wish I could go with her, but it is proving difficult to find a new steward to replace Wickham and I cannot spare the time.

Wickham! It is strange that one name can summon up such contradictory feelings. My father’s steward was a man I admired and respected, but his son is a man I hold in contempt. I can hardly believe that George and I were friends when we were children, but George was different then.

I sometimes wonder how it is that a boy who had every advantage, who was blessed with good looks, easy manners and a good education, and who was the son of such a respectable man, could turn out so badly. When I think of the dissipation he has indulged in since his father’s death…

I am glad I have not heard of him recently. Our business dealings last year were unpleasant. When he asked me for the presentation of the living my father had intended for him, he resented my refusal to give it to him, although he knew full well that he had relinquished all claims to it, and that his character made him entirely unsuited for the church.

Fortunately, a sum of money settled the matter. I feared he would approach me again when it ran out, but I have finally convinced him that he will get no more help from me. For the sake of the friendship we once had I have given him much, but I will not help him any more. The only man who can help George Wickham now is himself.

Hargreaves has found a house for Georgiana in Ramsgate, and Georgiana’s companion, Mrs Younge, has been to inspect it. She finds it suitable, and so I have taken it.

Ramsgate is not too far away, and I will be able to join Georgiana whenever my business allows. I feel sure the sea air will revive her and she will soon be in good spirits again.

I had not realized how much I would miss my sister. I have grown used to calling on her every day. But she is in good hands, and I am persuaded she will enjoy herself.

I dined with Bingley this evening. He is still in town, but he will be travelling north to see his family next week.

‘I think, you know, Darcy, that I shall take a house for the winter,’ he said after dinner.

‘In town?’

‘No. In the country. I have a mind to buy an estate.

Caroline is always telling me I should have one, and I agree with her. I mean to rent a property first and, if I like it, I will buy it.’

‘I think it is an excellent idea. It will stop you racketing all over the country,’ I said.

‘Exactly what I think. If I had a house half as fine as Pemberley I would not always be going from one place to another. I could invite company to stay with me, instead of travelling the length and breadth of the country to find it,’ he returned.

‘Where do you mean to look?’ I asked him, as I finished my drink.

‘Somewhere in the middle of the country. Not too far north, and not too far south. Caroline recommended Derbyshire, but why should I live in Derbyshire? If I want to visit that part of the country I can stay at Pemberley with you. I have told my agent to look for something in Hertfordshire, or thereabouts. I rely on you to inspect it with me when he finds me something.’

‘If you go ahead with it, then I will be glad to.’

‘You do not think I will?’

‘I think you will change your mind as soon as you see a pretty face, whereupon you will decide to stay in London,’ I said with a smile.

‘You paint me very fickle,’ he said with a laugh. ‘I thought you were my friend!’

‘And so I am.’

‘And yet you think me capable of abandoning my plan? Upon my honour, I will not be so easily dissuaded, and nothing will stop me from taking a house in the country. You will come and visit me?’

‘Of course.’

‘And you must bring Georgiana. How is she? I have not seen her for months. I must take Caroline and visit her.’

‘She is not in London at present. I have sent her to Ramsgate for the summer.’

‘Very wise. I cannot wait to remove from town myself.’

We parted after dinner. If it was still the Season, I would not hold out much hope of him fixing on a place, whatever he protests. But as London is empty of female company, then I think he may hold true to his course – unless a young lady in the north should happen to catch his fancy, whereupon he will stay at home until Christmas!

I had a letter from Georgiana this morning. It is lively and affectionate, and I am pleased I thought of sending her to the seaside. She has arrived safely in Ramsgate and writes of her pleasure at the house:

It is small compared to my London establishment, but it is very comfortable and it has a pretty view of the sea. Mrs Younge and I are going down to the beach this afternoon as I am eager to make a sketch of the coast. I will send it to you when it is finished.

Your affectionate sister, Georgiana.

I folded her letter away and I was about to put it in my desk with the others when I happened to notice the handwriting on one of her earlier letters. I took it out so that I could compare the two. She has made a great deal of progress, both in her handwriting and in the style of her letters, over the last few years. However, I confess that I find her earlier letters charming, though the handwriting is poor and the spelling atrocious.

As I reread her earlier letter, I remembered how worried I had been that she would not be happy at the seminary, but I need not have been concerned. She liked her teachers, and made a number of good friends there. I will have to suggest that she invite one of them to stay with her in London over the autumn. If I am to help Bingley find his estate, then a friend will provide some company for Georgiana whilst I am away.

I rode in the park with Colonel Fitzwilliam this morning. He told me that he had been to Rosings and seen Lady Catherine, and that she had appointed a new rector. For a moment I feared it might be George Wickham, knowing that if he had heard of a wealthy living at Rosings he might have tried to ingratiate himself with my aunt.

‘What is the rector’s name?’ I asked.

‘Collins.’

I breathed again.

‘A heavy young man with the most extraordinary manner,’ went on Colonel Fitzwilliam. ‘A mixture of servility and conceit. He bobs about praising everything and anything. He talks endlessly but says nothing. He has no opinions of his own, except an idea of his own importance, which is as ludicrous as it is unshakeable.

My aunt likes him well enough, however. He performs his duties well and he is useful to her for making up a table at cards.’

‘Is he married?’

‘I believe it will not be long before he takes a wife.’

‘He is betrothed, then?’

‘No, but my aunt finds it tedious at Rosings with so few people to entertain her, and I believe she will soon tell him he must marry. A new bride will make a diversion for her, and then she will have someone to…help,’ he said with a wry smile.

‘She likes to be of service,’ I remarked, returning his look.

‘And she is so fortunately placed that other people have little choice but to thank her for her advice,’ he added.