The next day, Darcy came calling early. Dinner last night had been a pleasant affair, though a little awkward. Lady Catherine meanwhile had kept up a constant conversation with her nephew, leaving Mr. Collins' party to converse among themselves. When they moved to the sitting room, the two groups dispersed, and I found myself next to Colonel Fitzwilliam. He is a pleasant man, with enough wit to keep me laughing as he recounted his days in the army. The event as a whole had been carefree, and when I returned home, I didn't even think about that certain gentleman who had seemed keen to catch my eye.
But when Mariah's frantic chatter about Mr. Darcy woke me, my mood turned sour. I can't imagine why he would want to see me, or even why so early, for that matter. If only his cousin had come instead, for he is far more amiable.
Charlotte helped me get ready quickly, and when I came downstairs, I saw Mr. Darcy staring blankly out the window while Mr. Collins made sufficient chatter for both of them. Upon my arrival into the room, Mr. Darcy looked up sharply, and rushed to stand up.
"Miss Bennet, would you do me the honor of going on a walk with me through the gardens?"
"I would be delighted to watch the sun rise with you."
Mr. Darcy's normally calm composure broke, and his cheeks flushed momentarily.
"F-I'm sorry if this is too early -- I could come back later if you like..."
I smile warmly. He doesn't usually stumble like that. "No, I enjoy walking, and it will be nice to be outside before the noon heat sets in."
We walk outside into the sunlight, and he looks down at me, a hint of a smile ghosting his features. "How are your sisters? All in good health?" He always asks that.
"Yes, sir, all in good health."
We continue strolling down the path in a suddenly awkward silence, and I try to escape this by looking out across the pond. One would think that Mr. Darcy would be the one to talk, but he for some reason does not seem to want to initiate any conversation. Actually, he is staring at me quite more than what is considered polite. That man is most certainly a mystery, and I might enjoy this attention if he wasn't so proud.
X
She is beautiful today. She's beautiful every day. But as I walk with her through the gardens, watching the breeze play with her curls and color her pale cheeks a rosy pink, she creates such a pretty picture that it is all I can do not to tell her how I feel. Surely she must have some idea of my affections, but does she know the extent? And she has shown preference to Fitzwilliam. But why wouldn't she -- he is much more pleasant than I am, much more capable of talking to people other than close friends.
Soon, soon she will find out, but for now I must let myself be content with this silence, enjoying her company on this morning. For Lord knows she may not be so quiet when she finds out.
X
That man! All this time he's known about Jane and Bingley -- and he was the one to ruin her happiness. How could he? Only someone so callous, so concieted could do that. And why? Because of a difference in status? If they truly loved each other -- why, then must it be cut off? Bingley surely would not care. Why the hell should Mr. Darcy?
No. If he comes back, I shall not go out with him. Mr. Darcy is no longer a person whose company I shall ever endure. I am not arrogant, but I will not associate myself with people who would stoop so low as to separate two who loved each other.