What could be done to relieve such effusions of love and tenderness? Nothing! Georgiana must now be daily in the Comte’s company. From Darcy’s picture, the Comte had at least equal claims as himself, and—added to Colonel Fitzwilliam’s now-complete wretchedness—the Comte had never committed such folly as to squander the opportunity for such a prize as Georgiana. The Colonel reasoned that he had not only wasted the chance for the prize, but overlooked for a period of—quite probably—years the fortune that Providence had placed before his own eyes! No, the Comte had recognised her virtues, and manfully endeavoured immediately to acquire such a treasure for his own. For all he might otherwise have wished to despise his opponent, Colonel Fitzwilliam was forced to honour the Comte for his choice, and his celerity in attempting to secure her.

There was nothing to be done for a period of at least a week—probably longer—except to wait and pray to a beneficent Providence for his own happy deliverance. A patience for inactivity was not his virtue by nature or by choice, but wait he must, and through his own willing, deluded design, which, for Colonel George Fitzwilliam—an active man and a military man—was a most severe penance, indeed. His only employments in such an urgent interval were counting the days until Georgiana could reasonably be expected back in London, and enumerating the ways and days of his own folly.

His pain was increased in the most mortifying of ways, when a letter, written by Georgiana to the Hallendales and sent from Venice, eventually found its way to the family in London, having been misdirected and delayed. The letter, evidently posted before the Darcys had received news of the Viscount’s death, was full of Georgiana’s thoughts of himself: her eager anticipation of his arrival, her dependence on his promises, and the now-apparent portion of her own happiness that was comprised in her affection for himself and his family. In the wake of such pure and almost giddy joy, the afflicted Colonel also discerned Georgiana’s obvious pleasure in the Comte’s company, for the last lines of her letter were full of her anticipation of their return to Paris and its pleasures.

18th July
Venice, Italy

DEAR AUNT AND UNCLE HALLENDALE,

We read your latest letter with such delight, and are very happy to hear that all the family are well, for we have heard little of late from Colonel Fitzwilliam. We are still in expectation of his arrival, although he has been delayed considerably at Tunbridge Wells, to our great disappointment, for we miss the pleasure of his company and conversation daily. I have your latest letter beside me now, and the good wishes and kind words make me long for the comforts of home and my friends more than ever.