Musing of a Mad Man
Darcy walked slowly to his designated room. As he looked around the room, for what seemed like the first time, he actually noticed things. The room was masculine with dark colors and rich wood. The only light thing in his room was the marble fireplace. That was a clean white with light and dark greys twisted and woven together with a large mantle on top of it. On the mantle, four gold candlesticks with tall, creamy colored, flickering candles, their light dancing on the wall behind him. Looking around, there seemed to be quite a lot of candle sticks in the room. One by each of the two reading chairs by the fire, illuminating the dark blue with small gold fleur de lis on it. Not very patriotic, Darcy mused. He then moved his gaze over to the window. Thick dark curtains covered half of each large window, the half-moon visible over the trees in the distance and reflecting on the water of the reflecting pool in the front courtyard. The torches lit up the white and grey gravel path flickering between light and shadow. He moved his gaze past the window and to the bed. Four thick posts on each of the corners with a large brass acorn held a heavy fabric canopy in place. Four wooden poles held a matching dark curtains blocking the bed from the rest of the room. On the bed, there was a dark blue blanket with two dark blue pillows offset with crisp white sheets and pillows. He remembered when he walked into the room Miss Elizabeth was staying in while she was here and it struck him that that room and his room were a matching set. Her room was the feminine mirror of his with paler blues, lighter woods, and gentler curves. The windows in her room had curved tops instead of his square windows. The curtains on her bead were pulled back to expose a slightly curved frame. He recalled the wood work on the foot of the bed. The scroll work with the carved leaves and flowers creating an arch on the foot board. The fireplace was the same marble, but with a more delicate mantle. The candle sticks were lighter in her room, than in his. He shrugged off his coat and threw it on the large armchair between him and the fire. His vest and shirt were slightly damp from holding Miss Elizabeth close to him. There was a spot on his shoulder where her head had rested. He took off the vest and the cravat. He sighed and decided not to call for his valet, and toed his boots off and fell into the other armchair. He had forgotten how tiring interviews were.
This morning, Bingley asked him to help him find a manager, so they went to town and sat down at a table. Darcy made Bingley promise him that Bingley himself would ask all the questions and that Darcy would just help in deciding in the final hiring. Bingley agreed and told him that was all he wanted. At first Darcy was uncertain of the ability of the Meryton gentlemen. But he quickly realized just how mistaken he was in that belief. The first man was not right for Bingley. He was too smart and would take his money through legitimate means, sighting false reports of updates to the land and false land purchases. Darcy knew he would be able to handle that type of person because he took an interest in his land. He wanted to run it without a steward, but his position and other duties would not allow him to do that. Bingley, on the other hand was lucky. He had all the time in the world to work his land, to understand it and run it himself. But he was not interested in that. So Darcy was entrusted to teach Bingley about managing people. Darcy would have hired three people out of the ten potential farmers that wanted to be stewards. Six of them could read and write, which was a large surprise for him. Half managed not only their farms but other farms in the area. Four were very promising, they had small farms but managed another larger one. They also could read and write. The only reason why one wouldn't work is that he couldn't do anything higher than basic addition and subtraction, and even he admitted having trouble with that. So three were left. They could read and write, if not tolerably well then very well. They could all add and subtract very well as well and could also do some basic multiplication and division. They also wanted to work and learn. They were young, but in some ways that was a good thing for Bingley's first steward. The two could become friends and trust each other. Like his father and… No. I will not let him touch my thoughts here. He is not worth the time it takes to think his name. After what he did to Georgiana… He sighed at the thought of that event. His father would have been ashamed of him. His father always used to say "Never let your emotions drive business. Even when your friends with employees, remember your last name." He let his emotions decide to let that thing back on his property and live in his house. And then he destroyed Georgiana. He was just happy that he was at home when that man decided to make his move.
"Remember your place, William." His father made that William's motto. His mother tried to alter that. "Remember your place, William. But also remember to try to fit into the places that you are in. Don't be like my sister Cathy." Aunt Catherine… what a witch, he though. He knew he did not look like he belonged in Meryton. The people of town looked at him like he was a personal bank or a catapult to court and the London season. He knew he did not fit into London either. He hated crowds and being ogled by ladies and mothers. But there was one, well two, ladies that did not look at him like and saw his income. But one was interested in his best friend and the other was Miss Elizabeth. Why couldn't he stop thinking about her? He was not surprised that he hadn't had stopped thinking about her. He was surprised how connected he felt to after on two days. From the moment he saw her face, he knew there was something special about her. He not only saw it in her face, but in her eyes as well. She had a consistent darkness in her eyes, no matter how happy she appeared. There were streaks of gold passion with dark brown warmth that masked it well, but he had stared far too long for Miss Bingley's liking at the Meryton assembly and was forced to pull away. She had asked if he was staring in shock of the impropriety and vulgarity of the small town. Without thinking, he replied that he was staring at a pair of fine eyes and a pretty face. She huffed, offended, and he walked away without a care towards her emotions at all. It was this lack of care and emotion that was noticed by society. But he knew he did care and had more true emotions than most of the other men in town. He though back to Miss Elizabeth. She had the strongest true emotions he had ever seen in a human being. She was strong, fierce, witty, and protective of those she cared about.
Why do I keep thinking about her? He thought. We have no understanding other than witty conversation or a budding friendship. He pulled himself out of the chair and move to the bed. As he lay down, a realization hit him like a slap to the face. I am falling in love… I must be going mad because I am falling in love with Miss Elizabeth. Why… How… She isn't rich or titled or anything else father told me I needed in a wife. But then again, she is slowly becoming a close friend. Mother told me to marry a friend. She said that friendship leads to love and that makes a happy marriage. So now Darcy had to make a choice: his mother or his father. He sighed and sat up to look at the fire. Miss Elizabeth's eyes dance like the fire does… although, he looked to the candle, the piercing is more like a candle. Her fine eyes were more than just fine, they were stunning. With this realization, Darcy fell into an easy sleep later that night and dreamed about the way a pair of fine eyes could drive a man to the madness known as love.
