Mr. Darcy's Diary by Amanda Grange (books for students to read .txt) 📕

not seen before. By his dress he was a

clergyman, and he appeared to be in attendance on the

ladies. I was just reflecting that perhaps his presence

explained why Miss Mary Bennet was clutching a book

of sermons when I received an unwelcome surprise, nay

a terrible shock.At the edge of the group there were two

further gentlemen. One was Mr Denny, an officer whom

Bingley and I had already met. The other was George

Wickham.

George Wickham! That odious man, who betrayed

my father’s belief in him and almost ruined my sister! To

be forced to meet him again, at such a time and in such

a place.…It was abominable.

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I thought I had done with him. I thought I would

never have to see him again. But there he was, talking to

Denny as though he had not a care in the world. And I

suppose he had not, for he has never cared about anything in his life, unless it is himself.

He turned his head towards me. I felt myself grow

white, and saw him grow red. Our eyes met. Anger, disgust and contempt shot from mine. But, recovering himself quickly, a damnable impertinence shot from his. He

had the audacity to touch his hat. To touch his hat! To

me! I would have turned away, but I had too much pride

to create a scene, and I forced myself to return his salute.

My courtesy was for nothing, however. Catching a

glimpse of Miss Elizabeth Bennet out of the corner of

my eye, I saw that she had noticed our meeting, and she

was not deceived for an instant. She knew that something

was badly wrong between us.

‘But we must not keep you,’ I heard Bingley saying.

I felt, rather than saw, him turn towards me.

‘Come, Darcy, we must be getting on.’

I was only too willing to fall in with his suggestion.

We bade the ladies goodbye and rode on.

‘She is feeling much better, and believes herself to be

quite well again,’ said Bingley.

I did not reply.

‘She looked well, I thought,’ said Bingley.

Again, I did not reply.

‘Is something wrong?’ asked Bingley, at last catching

my mood.

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‘No, nothing,’ I said shortly.

‘Nay, Darcy, this will not do. Something has troubled

you.’

But I would not be drawn. Bingley knows nothing of

the trouble I had with Wickham over the summer, and I

do not want to enlighten him. Georgiana’s foolishness

would cast a shadow over her reputation if it was known,

and I am determined Bingley shall never hear of it.

Wednesday 20th November

I rode out early this morning, without asking Bingley if

he chose to go with me, for I wanted to be on my own.

George Wickham, in Meryton!

It has robbed my visit of its pleasure. Even worse, I am

haunted by a glimpse of memory, something so slight I

can hardly be sure if it is real. But it will not leave me,

and fills my dreams. It is this: when I rode up to the ladies

yesterday, I thought I saw an expression of admiration on

Elizabeth’s face as she looked at Wickham.

Surely she cannot prefer him to me!

What am I saying? Her feelings for me are unimportant. As are her feelings for George Wickham. If she

wishes to admire him, it is her concern.

I cannot believe she will still admire him when she

finds him out, and find him out she will. He has not

changed. He is still the wastrel he has always been, and

she is too intelligent to be deceived for long.

And yet he has a handsome face. The ladies have

always admired it.And he has an ease of manner and style

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of address which make him well liked amongst those

who do not know him, whereas I…

I cannot believe I am comparing myself to George

Wickham! I must be mad. And yet if Elizabeth…I must

not think of her as Elizabeth.

If she chooses to compare us, then so be it. It will

prove she is beneath my notice, and I will no longer be

troubled by thoughts of her.

Thursday 21st November

Bingley declared his intention of going to Longbourn to

give the Bennets an invitation to his ball. Caroline and

Louisa eagerly agreed to go with him, but I declined, saying I had some letters to write. Caroline immediately

declared that she had some letters to write, too, but Bingley told her they could wait until she returned. I was

pleased. I did not want company today. I cannot keep my

thoughts from George Wickham. From the local talk, I

gather he is thinking of joining the regiment. No doubt

he thinks he will look well in a scarlet coat.

Worse still, Bingley has included all the officers in his

invitation to Netherfield, and I fear Wickham might join

them. I have no wish to see him, and yet I will not avoid

the ball. It is not up to me to avoid him. He is a scoundrel

and a villain but I will not upset Bingley by refusing to

attend his ball.

Friday 22nd November

A wet day. I was able to ride out with Bingley this

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morning, but then the rain poured down and we were

obliged to stay indoors. We whiled away the time by

talking of the estate and Bingley’s plans for it. His sisters

gave us the benefit of their views on necessary alterations to the house and the time passed pleasantly

enough, though I missed Elizabeth’s lively company.

Saturday 23rd November

Another wet day. Caroline was in a provoking mood. I

am glad Elizabeth was not here, or she would have surely

borne the brunt of Caroline’s ill-humour. Bingley and I

retired to the billiard-room. It is a good thing the house

possesses one, or I believe we should have been terribly

bored.

Sunday 24th November

I received a letter from Georgiana this morning. She is

doing well with her studies, and is happy. She is beginning a new concerto with her music master, a man who

I