Page 49 of Mr. Darcy's Complex Courtship

Several guests are staying at Rosings House, including Mr. Darcy, Lady Matlock (Colonel Fitzwilliam’s mother), Mrs. Finch (the sister of the late Sir Lewis de Bourgh), and Miss Rebecca Finch (Mrs. Finch’s daughter). I met them yesterday at the church, and the countess extended an invitation to Mr. Collins and me for tea that afternoon. Since Lady Catherine never made an appearance, Lady Matlock acted as host.

It was thrilling to spend this time with a countess, despite the sad circumstances, which cast a pall over the occasion. Miss Rebecca Finch is a pretty, reserved, and diffident blonde lady who reminds me a little of Maria. But no one fascinated me more than Mr. Darcy. You may remember he showed himself well on that final call he made with his cousin in April. Well, he has transformed further—and I believe Miss Rebecca Finch is the cause! He has become a gallant and attentive suitor to her.

What? I reviewed that last sentence to ensure I had not misread the text. No—that could not be true! I took a deliberate breath and continued with Charlotte’s letter.

You will excuse me, I am certain, for once having imagined Mr. Darcy to have been enamoured of you. It had seemed the most logical explanation for his calls to the parsonage. But based on his conduct with Miss Finch, both during services and at Rosings House, it is clear I was mistaken. I am astounded to witness how caring and gracious he can be in company with his apparent inamorata. He speaks to her in a gentle, soothing tone, unlike his customary diction. The pair make for a charming sight. Mark my words, the London newspapers will print an announcement of their marriage within the next few months.

The paper slipped from my hand and wafted to the floor. For a moment, I lacked the ability to move. If this report had come from anyone else, I should assume they had misunderstood the situation or sought to deceive me. ButCharlotte—my calm, reasonable, honest, and intelligent friend—had written this.

With a convulsive inhalation, I jerked forwards and retrieved the letter. I re-read the entire disquieting section, this time lingering upon each word. I tried, in vain, to divine an alternate meaning, but my friend left no room for misinterpretation. Had Fitzwilliam fallen in love with this lady, Miss Rebecca Finch? My heart screamed ‘No’. He could not be so fickle. Or had I fooled myself? After all, ‘out of sight, out of mind’ would not have become an idiom if the phrase lacked accuracy.

Of course, I had been jealous and insecure once before without merit: when I had learnt Fitzwilliam had spoken with Miss Browning at a party, and he clarified he had been practising better behaviour. Could this have a similar explanation? Charlotte, who had no knowledge of my attachment to Fitzwilliam, could have drawn a false conclusion from his conduct. I placed my hand over my racing heart. Yes, that must be the case. I should not be so quick to doubt Fitzwilliam. He loved me. I reached under my scarf and fondled the ring suspended from the gold chain. I had managed to wear it each day, taking care to ensure the ring remained out of sight.

Oh, how I ached to see him and receive assurance of his constancy! Thanks to my father, we could not even write to each other. I straightened my spine. Yet Fitzwilliam must be corresponding with his sister. I must call upon Miss Darcy tomorrow. Perhaps he had mentioned Miss Rebecca Finch in his latest missive.

I skimmed the remainder of Charlotte’s letter, which contained nothing notable, then folded the paper. I needed a diversion: I should take a walk, a very long one.

Thursday, 11 June

Darcy House

Elizabeth

Miss Darcy handed me a cup of tea. “You must try a strawberry tart. Our cook’s recipe is superior to any other I have tasted.”

“Thank you, I am fond of strawberries.”

Mrs. Annesley, seated beside her charge, held up a biscuit. “These are delightful as well. They are flavoured with cinnamon and ginger.”

“They look quite appetising.” I set the steaming cup on the table and added a tart and a biscuit to my plate, keeping MissDarcy in my line of vision. “Have you heard from your brother this week?”

“Yes, I received a letter from him yesterday.” She sustained a stringent attitude, and her mouth constricted. “He is concerned for Lady Catherine. By his description, she is already bereft. Although Anne still lives, she no longer appears to recognise anyone and does not speak. My cousin is not expected to live much longer.”

“I am very sorry to hear this. Lady Catherine must take comfort in your brother’s company.”

“Yes, I believe so. She has always seemed to favour Fitzwilliam over her other nephews. He visits her every spring to review her estate records because she trusts no one else to do the task—not even Lord Matlock.” Miss Darcy’s eyes opened wide. “Oh yes, my brother asked me to pass on his regards to you.”

I quelled the impulse to be disappointed at the meagre offering—he could hardly be expected to express tender feelings for me through his sister. “Please convey my best wishes for him in your next letter.”

“Yes, I shall do that.”

I sampled a morsel of the tart, and the buttery crust combined with the sweet fruit for a perfect mix of flavours and textures. I met Miss Darcy’s expectant gaze. “You are correct—this is excellent.”

“Ah, I knew you would enjoy it.” She gave me a toothy grin. “How is Miss Lydia doing with her studies?”

“She is making progress, especially in her music lessons, which she seems to enjoy.”

“That is excellent news.”

I lifted my teacup and took a sip.Come now, tell me more: Did Fitzwilliam mention Miss Finch in his letter?Since Miss Darcy could not—thankfully—read my thoughts, I resorted to a leadingquestion. “Is anyone else staying at Rosings House besides Lady Matlock?”

“Yes, Fitzwilliam mentioned Mrs. Finch and her daughter, Miss Rebecca Finch, are there.”

Miss Rebecca Finch. So, hehadmentioned her. Could this mean anything?

“Are the Finch ladies relations of Lady Catherine?” asked Mrs. Annesley.

“Yes, Mrs. Finch is the widowed sister of the late Sir Lewis de Bourgh. I met her a couple of years ago and remember her as a tall, corpulent, and garrulous lady. I have never met Miss Finch, and Fitzwilliam met her for the first time during this visit.”

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