Chapter 10
“She is an extraordinary young woman!” exclaimed the colonel that same evening, bursting into the library where Darcy was reading.
Darcy closed the book with a slow gesture and smiled in silent agreement.
There was nothing more to be said. That evening, Elizabeth had shone with beauty, wit, and grace.
“Good Lord, Darcy, what are you waiting for?” the colonel asked.
“Nothing. I am enchanted, captivated! Most likely tomorrow or the day after at the latest, I shall ask for her hand,” he said in a tone so content that the colonel smiled with satisfaction. “But I need you to tell me how she looked at me.”
“Darcy!” he cried out, uncertain whether his cousin had spoken in earnest or with that faint sarcasm of his that made any reply difficult. But the serene expression before him revealed an unexpected truth: the proud, self-assured man was in need of an answer.
“Heavens! What is happening to you? All I can say is that I liked her at once, just as I liked Diana when I first met her. They are of the same breed of woman, yet Miss Bennet possesses a sharp mind far beyond what one might expect at her age. Diana is over thirty now and has grown much since her marriage. Miss Bennet, however, lacks for nothing at present—”
“Except to say yes.”
“Which a charming and intelligent man such as yourself will surely know how to bring about. Be the man you were tonight, and I am certain Miss Bennet will respond to the attention and affection you offer her and have offered her all evening.”
With a slightly mischievous smile, the colonel imagined the scene: Darcy announcing his engagement to Miss Bennet at one of their forthcoming dinners.
He wondered whether their aunt would suffer an apoplexy or begin to shout, and he considered what measures she might take to prevent the marriage.
Yet he said nothing aloud, for Darcy was more than capable of thwarting any attempt to undermine his happiness; no one could stand in his way once his decision was made.
∞∞∞
Unfortunately, there was only one man on Earth who could stop him—and that man was Darcy himself.
At first, the colonel noted only a particular distraction in his cousin, but as breakfast progressed, his concern deepened.
The man before him was no longer the one he had left the previous evening.
He barely restrained his curiosity until the meal was over, then nearly dragged Darcy away from their aunt and cousin, into the library, which at Rosings was usually empty.
“What has happened?” he demanded, then quickly lowered his voice, wary that Lady Catherine might overhear.
Darcy let himself fall into an armchair, defeated.
“I shall not marry,” he declared, then fell silent, his torment so evident that the colonel felt real alarm.
He had seen him like this only once before, at Ramsgate, on the day they had thwarted Wickham’s vile scheme to elope with Georgiana.
For a moment, he feared it was again about that scoundrel, but Wickham could have no part in Darcy’s plans for marriage.
“Speak,” he said, his voice firm with command. It was not the moment for delicacy.
“I went for a walk before breakfast.”
“And you met her?” the colonel asked quickly, but Darcy shook his head.
“Not her. Mr Collins.”
The colonel was nearly relieved, but something in Darcy’s face stopped him.
The man before him was deeply shaken as he continued, “Mr Collins is her cousin. He calls her my cousin … It was a dreadful conversation. Her mother and sisters are vulgar and without scruples, while her cousin is conceited, pompous, narrow-minded, and absurd. He nearly broke in two as he prostrated himself before me and seemed ready to kiss my hand. It was revolting. I imagined him calling me dear cousin and felt physically ill. It is impossible. I am sorry. I cannot marry her. We shall return to London.”
“Darcy…be reasonable… We cannot leave just yet.” The colonel spoke in a calm tone, hoping to lend Darcy some steadiness.
“Let us take a long ride through the countryside. I am certain you will see things differently upon your return. Do not decide anything yet. Allow a few days to pass, I beg you. You said you would listen to my advice. I am not asking you to propose today or tomorrow, only to reflect a while longer. You must see that her family matters, but they can be avoided.”
“We cannot avoid her family for the rest of our lives.”
“But you can endure them from time to time.”
The colonel fell silent, watching him. To his relief, Darcy nodded, though without saying precisely what he had agreed to.
He seemed angry and disheartened, but in truth, Darcy was relieved.
Once the first waves of fury and frustration had passed—that overwhelming revulsion he had felt towards Mr Collins and the family he represented—what remained was only pain and regret.
The colonel had imposed upon him what he had secretly wished to do: to stay.
His heart urged him forcefully not to leave that love behind, though it seemed more like a battleground, even as his mind insisted he must go.
The colonel, luckily, offered a solution that temporarily calmed his turmoil: he would remain not because he genuinely desired it but because it would be improper to leave so soon after arriving.
That small act of cowardice, the failure to make the decision himself—something that had never happened to him before—left a bitter taste beneath the quiet satisfaction of staying.
He felt he had changed, become someone else, and he did not quite like the man he was becoming, for the thought of being joined by family ties to the Bennets had grown even more intolerable.
Torn between his love for Elizabeth and his desire to flee as far as possible from her family, he was left unmoored.
Once confident and resolute, he was now driven by a pregnant sense of discomfort emerging from the war within himself.
He wished for distance, when, in truth, the only thing he truly longed for was to be near her.