The Lost Journals of Fitzwilliam Darcy

December 5, 1811

It is with a heavy hand that I set my pen to paper this evening, for the events of this day have been of such significance that their weight lingers upon my shoulders. The quietude of my chambers provides a stark contrast to the tumultuous deliberations that have occupied the majority of our waking hours here at Netherfield.

The matter at hand was the disposition of my dear friend Charles Bingley's affections towards Miss Jane Bennet, and the perceived inequality of their attachment. It was a subject broached with the utmost trepidation, for the happiness of a friend is not a matter to be interceded upon lightly. Yet, after long observation and much contemplation, it became apparent to me, as well as to Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, that while Charles's affections were deeply engaged, Miss Bennet's appeared far more reserved, if not entirely placid.

It is a painful thing to sow seeds of doubt in the fertile ground of a friend's romantic aspirations, but it is a cruelty greater still to allow him to pursue a course that may lead to his undoing. Thus, with the greatest care and a sense of solemn duty, I expressed to Charles my observations and the concerns that had arisen therefrom.

"Charles," I began, with a gravity befitting the discussion, "you are aware of my esteem for you and my desire for your lifelong happiness. It is for this reason alone that I must convey my observations concerning Miss Bennet. While none can question her amiability, it is uncertain whether her feelings for you are as fervent as your own. It would be a grave injustice to yourself to be connected to a woman whose heart is not equally engaged."

Miss Bingley, ever more direct in her approach, added her own sentiments, underscoring the social repercussions that might arise from such an unequal match. "Consider, dear brother," she urged, "the lack of propriety displayed by Miss Bennet's family, and the imprudence of allying yourself with connections so decidedly inferior to our own."

Charles, whose countenance had grown increasingly troubled, listened with a pained expression. "I had hoped," he said, his voice tinged with a forlorn note, "that the sincerity of my regard for Jane might overcome such obstacles."

Yet, as the conversation progressed, it became clear that the strength of our arguments and the evidence of Miss Bennet's reserved demeanor had made an impression upon him. It was decided, with a heaviness of spirit, that a departure from Netherfield would be prudent, allowing Charles time and distance to consider his feelings and the potential consequences of his attachment.

The Bingley sisters, taking it upon themselves to communicate our imminent departure, penned a letter to Miss Bennet. The epistle conveyed, with all due civility, that we were to leave for London and that Charles's return to Hertfordshire was not to be anticipated in the near future. The task of writing such a letter was not taken lightly, and it was dispatched with an awareness of the disappointment it would surely cause.

As I retire for the evening, I am beset by a disquiet that I cannot easily dispel. The necessity of our actions today, while clear in the light of reason, sits uneasily upon my conscience. I cannot help but consider the parallel between Charles's situation and my own growing attachment to Elizabeth, an attachment that I have endeavored to conceal even from myself.

The impending journey to London provides an opportunity for reflection, a chance to distance myself from the source of my own conflicting emotions. Yet, I suspect that the miles that will soon lie between Elizabeth and me will do little to diminish the impression she has made upon my heart.

It is in these quiet moments of solitude that I am forced to confront the possibility that in striving to protect my friend from a match that could bring him discomfort, I have inadvertently highlighted the very struggle that lies within my own breast.

Fitzwilliam Darcy