Page 30 of The Sole Love

Sometimes in the past, when Darcy became angry and determined to forget her, the colonel laughed at such an intention. “Have you succeeded in forgetting her or being angry with her for more than an hour?”

“But she refused me!” he would repeat, as if he wanted to remain furious.

“Yes, because you told her that only half of you was in love, while the rational Darcy fought against that feeling. Do you think any honest woman would have said yes to such a proposal?”

“‘Honest’ woman?”

“Yes, cousin, ‘honest’: one who has self-respect and does not consider marriage a business.”

“There are few such women…”

“Exactly! Miss Elizabeth is a rare jewel, and you have to win her in the way such a woman expects: by showing your love and sharing your reasons for that love—not those against it.”

Darcy reflected long on those words. His cousin was full of surprises. The pleasant soldier knew more about human nature than he did. And Colonel Fitzwilliam, without a doubt, knew how to win people over—not only women but all those around him. From Fitzwilliam’s perspective, the Parsonage proposal was a complete disaster. And Darcy now tended to agree. Of course, Elizabeth’s reaction had also been improper. She had answered his words with such fury, and her incivility had only continued to increase.

However, from his point of view, they had arrived at a truce. During the Grandvilles’ ball, he had tried to show her that his feelings had not changed, although he had reflected on his behaviour and wanted to amend it. To his surprise, Elizabeth’s reaction had mirrored his. She had been moderate and even sweet. And that was indeed rare for the young lady who had walked to Netherfield without caring about her gown or the impression she made on the people in Bingley’s parlour. She was unique.

“Indeed, she is unique,” the colonel offered, as though knowing his thoughts. “But let me tell you something: she is not the ideal for the majority of men. Too independent, too intelligent, and too educated. So I think she will not be showered with proposals.”

“But she is stunning!”

The colonel smiled at his cousin’s obvious feelings. “Yes, she is, but when this beauty opens her lovely mouth, many men would find themselves rather disconcerted by what she says. I would say you are fortunate to love her, and she is fortunate that you adore her and want her as she is.”

“She comes at Georgiana’s invitation.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam burst into laughter. “Oh, my God, you are so naïve—the strange effect of love on an otherwise intelligent man. Even Georgiana—at sixteen—knows why Miss Elizabeth accepted the invitation.”

As Darcy looked at him in shock, the colonel continued. “You have to stop treating Georgie like a child. She is a young lady, and after her court presentation, she will surely find a husband. It is time to have a different relationship with her: an adult one.”

Darcy remembered his mother’s last months with love and regret. They had discussed many things, including her advice to him about Georgiana. “I would enjoy knowing that you have a close relationship, even though the difference in age is important. But girls become women at an early age, and I want you to have someone as close as we are now.”

He was not inclined to have confidants, though he suddenly understood his mother’s wish. During those months of torment and pain, he too had needed someone with whom to share his problems. Fortunately, he had the colonel, but as his intention to marry was firm, he had to explain it to Georgiana. Just after the ball, during a quiet dinner, he decided to begin the discussion.

To his surprise, his young sister laughed at his hesitant words. She was no longer the little girl playing in Pemberley’s park with Miss Ellie, her governess; rather, she was a young lady preparing to enter adult life.

“I know you will marry,” she said. “Do not look so astonished. When I turned sixteen, you gave me the letters Mama wrote for me. She said that I must prepare to welcome your wife and be a good friend to her.”

She stopped, her eyes filled with tears, as they did every time they discussed Lady Anne; Darcy’s feelings were similar. Their delicate mother had been a determined woman, and she had made everything seem present in her children’s lives, even after her death. Darcy had also received a letter from their solicitor when he turned five and twenty. His mother wanted him to marry for love and bring a happy woman to Pemberley—one who would love him for his character, not his fortune.

He had to admit that, before going to Rosings, his doubts about Elizabeth had been more significant. Then he had remembered his mother’s letter, and it had been like a revelation. He could say that the man who proposed was Lady Anne’s son. In contrast, the one who had spoken so harshly of Elizabeth’s family had allowed the prejudices of his own world, reinforced by Bingley’s sisters and others like them, to govern him. He had tried to influence his friend not to marry Miss Bennet while allowing himself, in turn, to be influenced by the opinions of others. Her family was fairly normal, with the usual faults and merits, and he had no right to judge before knowing each of them better. The Gardiners had proved to be amiable and honest, and he had enjoyed his time in their company at the ball.

“Brother, I think I have lost you!” Georgiana reproached him with amusement.

“Sorry, my dear, I tend to reflect more frequently these days. Yes, I intend to marry…”

His words began the most personal conversation they had ever had, and Georgiana blushed with pleasure.

“If your intention is towards a certain lady, I must tell you that I am delighted!”

Darcy’s face betrayed his astonishment. Looking at Georgiana, he saw for the first time a young lady, exquisitely dressed, who shared his dinner table with elegance and style. In a few months, she would be presented at court by Lady Matlock, and she would be ready to…marry. The transformation was there, before his eyes, but he simply had not seen it.

“What do you know about…my intentions?” he asked, interested in her opinion.

“First, you mentioned in your conversations with the colonel certain events that took place in Kent. I am not stupid…”

“Of course you are not! Only he and I…we considered you still to be—”

“A child,” she said, smiling.