Page 11 of Mistress of Pemberley
The plan appeared to require some adjustment, for nothing remarkable happened in the days that followed. The cousins made their visits to the Parsonage, on some occasions unaccompanied and on others under the watchful eyes of Lady Catherine. They wandered through the park and often found themselves in the presence of Miss Bennet, most frequently in the quiet morning hours, but no clarification came from their meetings. Dinners at Rosings were arranged with the intent to seat Mr Darcy near Miss Bennet. Yet, to the dismay of the concerned conspirators, nothing of consequence seemed to occur.
“I am desperate,” the colonel confessed one morning to Georgiana during a secret rendezvous before breakfast.
“I know what you mean,” the young lady said with a sigh. She had already met Miss Bennet on several occasions, yet she could infer nothing from their pleasant conversations sprinkled with jokes and smiles. Whenever Georgiana attempted to steer the discussion towards Darcy, Elizabeth listened attentively and politely, but she offered no reply that might reveal her feelings.
“No, dear, you do not know,” the colonel replied. “I am desperate because he seems to be becoming another man in her company. Just yesterday, when we paid a visit to the Parsonage, Darcy scarcely uttered ten words. It was as though a shadow had fallen upon his countenance when we entered the house, shrouding his usual charm and true nature. My cousin, so quick-witted, so clever, so possessed of a sharp tongue, becomes a mere monument to dullness whenever Miss Bennet is present. Yesterday, he called on her, and she was alone… I shudder to imagine what transpired. Instead of courting her with his usual wit and humour, showing her how suitable they were for each other with sparkling conversation, he likely stood as immobile as a statue, cold as marble. What is happening? Were we wrong about his feelings?”
“I fear the matter is more complicated than we initially thought. You were right, he has a profound affection for Miss Bennet, but it seems the obstacles he sees in the path of marrying her are equally profound.”
“How can that be? Does he consider those absurd doubts about her family more important than having found the right woman?” the colonel asked, and his torment made Georgiana blush with concern.
“I cannot imagine. I am at a loss as to why he continues to have doubts.”
“Why does he not leave? Why stay here like the shadow of the man he usually is?”
“He is probably still reflecting,” Georgiana replied with a heavy heart.
With each passing day and every meeting they shared, Georgiana grew increasingly confident that Miss Bennet was the woman her brother needed. With her, he might once again become the man she remembered before their father’s death—cheerful, full of humour, and brimming with a zest for life. The severe and somewhat aloof Fitzwilliam now reminded her more of their uncle Lord Matlock than their father, who, with an open heart, had always endeavoured to be kind and present in their lives after the loss of the woman he had adored.
“I may need to leave, even though I promised to be at his disposal,” the colonel lamented.
“I know. Let us grant them a few more days. You still have not had a serious conversation with Miss Bennet—that could be our last chance to make her see what is happening and make her act in one way or another.”
“If she loves him—which neither of us can say. In this particular situation, I fear being too friendly—she might like me more than my cousin,” the colonel bitterly jested.
But Georgiana regarded him with a hint of concern, for on more than one occasion, Miss Bennet had shown that she did enjoy the colonel’s company. Considering her brother’s sudden aloofness and complete dullness, this was a matter not to be taken lightly.