Mr. Darcy’s P&P POV (the abridged version) – Part 8

Chapter 38-40 –

Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn.

***

Chapter 41 –

I am finally pulling myself out of my depression. There is no use regretting Elizabeth Bennet. She is gone, eternally out of reach, and it is my entire fault.

I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Perhaps I was spoilt by my parents, who, though good themselves, allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing. I was an only son, heir to a great estate, but cared for none beyond my own family circle. I thought meanly of all the rest of the world, wished at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own, was beyond everything.

My father was not such; indeed, he was all that was benevolent and amiable. My mother, though proud, was kind. I have been a fool.

Elizabeth Bennet. The first woman I have ever loved. The first I ever considered marrying. She turned me down. Flat. She does not love me. She despises me, and rightfully so. Yes, many of her accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises. That is no excuse. My behavior at the time merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable.

The recollection of what I said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of our acquaintance, is now, inexpressibly painful to me. Her reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget:

“Had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner.”

How those words have tortured me.

Elizabeth Bennet, the daughter of a modest gentleman farmer in out-of-the-way Herefordshire, a lady who had spent little time in London and had never gone to school or had masters, was the first person to see me as I truly am.

She thought me devoid of every proper feeling. And she was right.

I came to her without a doubt of my reception. She showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased. I shall never forget the turn of her countenance as she said that I could not have addressed her in any possible way that would induce her to accept me.

Elizabeth Bennet. The first woman I have ever loved—perhaps the only woman I shall ever love—is forever lost to me. And it is my own damn fault.

You taught me a lesson, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I am properly humbled. Thank you for this gift.

Now I must build a life without you. To be the man I should be. A man you could admire, befriend, even be proud of. A man who might deserve you.

Even though we shall never meet again.

***

Poor Georgiana. The sweet girl has been daily witness to my anguish. She thinks that she is the cause.

Oh, Darcy, you selfish fool! I must console her, ease her worries, lift up her spirits. She needs my support, and I shall not let her down. She will smile again. I am determined.

***

I had a conversation with my valet, a real conversation. Once I got him to talk—a mighty task, as he was shocked that I would condescend to speak to him—the man had some interesting observations about the staff. There may be a footman who should be replaced; I cannot have anyone mistreat the maids.

I am only sorry I had not asked his opinion about things before. I must do better. Rank is rank, but I have a responsibility to my people. All people have worth. I would do well to remember that.

***

Chapter 42 –

Bingley has returned from the North, just as we plan to escape the summer heat of London. I shall invite him to travel with Georgiana and me to Pemberley. That means Caroline and the Hursts will have to come as well, but I can bear their company for Charles’s sake. I need about me what few friends I have.

My attempts at practicing better behavior has had decidedly mixed results. True, I have found the matchmaking mamas of Town and their daughters more tolerable. A small smile and some inane conversation seems to suit. They go away happy, and I am left at peace. On the other hand, I do tire of biting my tongue.

Does this make me misanthropic? I should be cautious of that. Indeed, foolish is not the same as malicious or insulting. Of all the unpleasant people I must tolerate, few are as disagreeable as my Aunt Catherine, and she is not wicked. She is misinformed and unaware of how misinformed she is.

I mocked—despised—the people of Meryton as fools, gossips, and bumpkins. But there is no wickedness to them. They are who they are. They work hard, love their families, and help their neighbors. For this they deserve scorn? No! What deserve scorn are my own pretentions.

***

Georgiana has been an absolute angel these weeks, putting up with my black humor. I think I shall order a new piano-forte for Pemberley as a surprise. The dear girl deserves every good thing in the world. I only wish she could meet Elizabeth Bennet—

Stop it, Darcy! That ship has sailed.

***

On the road back to Pemberley. Knowing I am drawing closer to my home raises my spirits—and Georgiana’s, too. Unfortunately, Caroline is worse than ever. I had better lock the door to my room at the posting inn. Ha, Ha.

Hmm, maybe that is not a joke, after all.

Gad, enough! I shall ride on ahead tomorrow. I must have peace.

***

To be continued…

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Jack Caldwell
Ramblings of a Cajun in Exile