The Guest | F. Darcy

Chapter 4: The Wishful Thinking

Adele sat alone the next morning, writing to Jane. Maria and Charlotte had gone into town on business, and Elizabeth had left to accompany Colonel Fitzwilliam on a walk. She was not troubled by their absence; in fact, she found herself rather content with the solitude, a rare luxury amidst the bustle of daily calls and engagements. However, her peace was soon interrupted by the sudden chime of the front doorbell, its sharp ring startling her from her thoughts.

As she had heard no carriage approach, she assumed it must be Lady Catherine and, under that apprehension, hastily tucked away her half-finished letter, unwilling to endure an onslaught of intrusive questions. But when the door opened, to her very great surprise, it was not Lady Catherine who entered—it was Mr. Darcy. And Mr. Darcy alone.

"Fitzwilliam," she exclaimed, half in astonishment and half in delight. Her beaming smile was so sweet, so unguarded, that he found himself helplessly returning it. Yet when he glanced around the room and realized she was entirely unattended, his expression quickly shifted to one of concern.

"I had no idea you were alone," he said hurriedly. "I apologize for calling so unexpectedly."

She only smiled, dismissing his concerns with a graceful wave of her hand.

They sat, and after she inquired about Rosings and its occupants, a companionable silence fell between them. Adele found it quite comfortable, but she could not help but notice Mr. Darcy shifting restlessly in his chair, his fingers tapping idly against the armrest. She did not question it. She had known him long enough to recognize when something weighed upon his mind, and she was content to let him speak when he was ready.

"So," she said at last, attempting to ease his nerves, "how is Georgiana, Fitzy?"

"She is well, thank you."

She exhaled silently—short answers, always a sign of his discomfort.

"And what of the Bingleys and the Hursts?" she asked lightly.

"They are well also."

"And that day, you told Elizabeth that you had no idea Jane was in town while you were there."

"That was true," he replied, frowning. "I did not have the pleasure of encountering Miss Bennet."

A pause followed. Then, with a hesitant sigh, she confessed, "Jane went to stay with our aunt and uncle in Cheapside—to recover from her heartbreak."

Darcy turned to look at her. She met his gaze, her expression clouded with guilt.

"I feel so ashamed, Fitzwilliam," she admitted softly. "I am the reason for her sadness. For her heartbreak. I have never seen her like this before, so lost, so silent. Jane has never let a man weigh so heavily on her heart, and yet, I fear I gave her hope where there was none."

She swallowed, looking away. "How is Mr. Bingley? Is he... happy?"

Darcy hesitated. "I... I cannot say," he replied, knowing full well the truth. "However, I do not foresee his return to Netherfield."

Adele felt her heart sink. She had been so sure of their attachment. Had she truly misjudged? Had she truly misled her sister?

Darcy, sensing her distress, shifted the conversation. "This seems a very comfortable house," he observed. "Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr. Collins first came to Hunsford."

Adele smiled faintly, grateful for the distraction. "I believe she did. And I am certain she could not have bestowed her kindness upon a more grateful recipient."

"Mr. Collins appears to be very fortunate in his choice of a wife," he noted.

Adele let out a light laugh. "Well, considering I had a hand in the match, I would certainly hope so! Poor Mr. Collins was rather disheartened after Elizabeth rejected him, but I gave him some encouragement regarding Charlotte. I already knew she was fond of him, and here we are—Mr. and Mrs. Collins, a match quite as sensible as one could make."