by Jann Rowland
“You overheard.”
It was little more than an accusation.
“I did,” replied Elizabeth. “I suppose ladies of their imagined quality feel they have leave to look down on others as much as they like. But we need have no care for their opinions. We know the measure of our own worth.”
“Yes, well, I would have you know that many in high society have accepted me. You need not suppose that I have no friends because a pair of vicious women cannot take the trouble to know me.”
Elizabeth smiled in response, though the urge to release her mirth was strong; then again, it always was, when speaking with Miss Bingley. “I do not suggest it at all, Miss Bingley, for it is clear your family enjoys substantial success in society. My only thought was to commiserate with you.”
For a moment, Elizabeth thought Miss Bingley would say something caustic in reply, for she was well aware that Miss Bingley was desperate to hear her name spoken in the same breath as others of those ladies’ ilk. Then her mien softened, and she nodded.
“You speak the truth. I thank you for your kind words.”
Those were the only reply Miss Bingley made, for soon she took herself away to another part of the ballroom. For Elizabeth, however, it was the first time she had ever had any measure of understanding with Miss Bingley. She could not say if it would last any length of time—and suspected it would not—but it was a bit of empathy in a relationship that had rarely seen any meeting of the minds.
There was one unintended consequence of Elizabeth’s decision to offer her compassion to Miss Bingley, and further, the time she spent in reflection before returning close to the dance floor. Miss Bingley, it seemed, had been solicited for the supper set by a gentleman with whom Elizabeth was not acquainted, while Elizabeth was absent until the dancing already started. Thus, she remained unpaired for that dance, and instead, stood beside Jane and Mr. Bingley talking. Then, when the dance ended and Lady Susan called her guests in to dine, Elizabeth was not required to sit at dinner with a partner of whom she knew little.
“Shall we go in, Miss Bennet?” asked Mr. Darcy, extending his arm to her and motioning toward the other revelers who were already making their way from the ballroom.
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, resting her hand on the inside of his arm with the lightest of touches.
Accompanied by the gentleman, with Mr. Bingley and Jane leading, Elizabeth entered the dining room to the sight of a stupendous feast. With a smile she turned on Mr. Darcy and observed:
“It seems your aunt has gone to great lengths to provide a prodigious meal, Mr. Darcy. Do you suppose she means us to finish this entire feast, and thereby have no ability to move on the dance floor after?”
Mr. Darcy chuckled at her jest. “My aunt has been planning these for many years, Miss Bennet, and can provide that which her guests most enjoy. But I do not suppose she means us all to eat so much that we cannot move after, though some undoubtedly will.”
The thought of Mr. Hurst and his ample midsection entered Elizabeth’s mind, and she laughed, while nodding to agree with Mr. Darcy’s point. “There are some who enjoy food and drink more than the rest, I suppose.”
“And you do not?” asked Mr. Darcy.
“Oh, I enjoy eating as much as the next person, sir. But I also walk often, so I can afford a healthier appetite than some of a more sedentary persuasion. Even so, I do not eat to excess, for I do not have the capacity for it.”
“Walking is excellent exercise, and I understand you partake as often as you can.”
“You heard that from Mr. Bingley, I suppose?” asked Elizabeth. “Or perhaps Miss Bingley has spoken at great length about my unfortunate habits.”
“I believe you might have informed me yourself, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Then perhaps you have an accurate account of it.”
“I hope so.”
Choosing some empty seats near the long table groaning with the weight of the food it held, Mr. Darcy saw Elizabeth seated, while Mr. Bingley did the same with Jane. Then, Mr. Darcy asked after Elizabeth’s preferences—Mr. Bingley already knew his wife’s—and they departed to fix plates for them. As soon as they were out of hearing, Jane leaned to Elizabeth, a smile of mischief fixed on her.
“It seems you are very cozy with Mr. Darcy, Lizzy. I shall ask you again—are you hiding anything from me?”
“No, Jane,” replied Elizabeth, amused at her sister’s persistence. “If something significant happens concerning Mr. Darcy, you may be assured that I shall tell you first.”
“I should hope so. It is not as if you would confide in Mr. Collins!”
“Heaven forbid!” replied Elizabeth in like fashion.
When the gentlemen returned, they attended to their meals, though conversation never ceased between them. With only his three companions, Mr. Darcy seemed at ease, for he had far more to say than usual. When others stopped by to speak every so often, Elizabeth witnessed his sudden tenseness, depending on who that person was, and his speech became clipped and, more than once, unfriendly.
So interesting was the conversation, none of them had any attention for what was happening about them, and the entertainment provided by various ladies on the pianoforte excited little interest or commentary. It did not elude Elizabeth’s attention that Miss Bingley was sitting with her gentleman amidst a cloud of discontent, nor was her annoyance with Elizabeth’s position hidden. The gentleman must be the most unobservant man alive or ignoring her incivility, for he seemed to take no notice.
When the dinner hour was drawing to a close, Elizabeth noted the approach of Colonel Fitzwilliam and his sisters. One look at the colonel’s face informed her that the man had some mischief in mind, a supposition he confirmed when he opened his mouth.
“I say, Darcy, it is not sporting of you to keep Miss Bennet’s company all to yourself.”
“Should I cede her company to you?” asked Mr. Darcy, his manner like his cousin’s. “I should not wish you to corrupt her, Fitzwilliam.”
“How often have we told you to take care in your dealings with ladies?” Lady Charity scolded her brother. “If Darcy has cause to call you out, your behavior must be egregious, indeed.”
“Oh, nonsense,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Darcy disapproves of anyone having fun on principle alone.”
“Darcy is not so stiff,” said Lady Rachel, slapping her brother’s shoulder.
“I do not require your protection, Rachel,” was Mr. Darcy’s mild interjection. “I am long accustomed to your brother’s ways.”
“And so you should be,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam. The colonel winked at Elizabeth and added: “It is my duty to keep Darcy humble, for if I do not, he will become insufferable.”
Though Elizabeth laughed at his jesting tone, Mr. Darcy fixed his cousin with a look that was all complaisance. “Speak as you will, Fitzwilliam. I have every confidence in Miss Bennet’s understanding of my character; she will not give credence to your mutterings.”
“I do not know, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, fixing the gentleman with a sidelong grin. “It seems nothing more than prudent to listen to the testimonies of those who know you best. I might learn something of importance.”
The three siblings laughed, though Mr. Darcy only shrugged. “Then hear what you must, for I am not afraid of my relations.”
Contrary to Mr. Darcy’s statement, little of the ensuing conversation concerned Mr. Darcy’s character or anything of the gentleman at all. They spoke of various subjects of interest to them all, and in time they became a merry party, for Elizabeth found the scions of the earl were not at all above their company. Not all those present were of such congenial attitudes, she noted, for there were no few looks at the siblings for deigning to show the daughters of minor country gentlemen as much favor as they were.
At length, the conversation turned to the season and the fact that it was now almost at an end. “Do you mean to return to your estate soon?” asked Elizabeth.
&
nbsp; “Before the end of June without a doubt,” said Lady Rachel.
Her sister added: “Father is always eager to leave London, for he claims he must endure the stodgiest of company in parliament for so long that he cannot wait to return to the country.”
Miss Bingley, who had been sitting nearby, was amazed by such a statement, but Elizabeth could well understand Lord Matlock’s feelings on the subject.
“Our father’s primary estate is in Derbyshire, perhaps only twenty miles from Pemberley, Darcy’s home.”
“More like thirty miles,” corrected Mr. Darcy.
Lady Charity rolled her eyes where Mr. Darcy could not see, almost inducing Elizabeth to laughter. Aware that anything she said on the subject might provoke suspicions of ulterior motives, Elizabeth was careful in her response.
“It must be convenient to live so close to family. I have an aunt who lives in Cornwall whom we never see as the distances are so great.”
“Distance is not always an evil, Miss Bennet,” said Lady Charity. “We are all grateful that we live in Derbyshire and our aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, lives in Kent, for it means we do not see her much.”
“Charity!” scolded Lady Rachel, though the way her eyes twinkled, Elizabeth knew she was not truly upset with her sister.
“Ah, but that is because you eschew visiting her in Kent,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Darcy and I must go every spring and endure her ladyship’s incessant instructions, her meddling, and her insistence that Darcy marries her daughter.”
Elizabeth looked on Mr. Darcy with surprise, not having known of this. “You are engaged and you informed no one? There must be hundreds of young ladies whose hopes will be crushed when news of this comes out!”
“I am not engaged,” said Mr. Darcy, as his cousins all burst into laughter. “Lady Catherine claims she and my mother agreed on our betrothal, but there is no contract, and no one else in the family knows anything of it. It is than my aunt’s fantasy, nothing else.”
Elizabeth felt a wave of relief pass through her, though she knew Mr. Darcy had as yet made no overtures to her. The gentleman and his interest in her was becoming more obvious by the moment, however, leaving Elizabeth desirous of learning where it might lead. Thus, she nodded to him and said nothing more, though his family continued to tease him.
“You know Lady Catherine will have her way, Darcy,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “It will take you standing at the altar with another woman to induce her to desist, and even then, I suspect she will hold out some hope that you will relent.”
“Lady Catherine may hope all she wishes,” said Mr. Darcy, shrugging at his cousin’s assertion. “I have no intention of ever yielding on this matter, so she is wasting her time.”
“Aye, I suppose she is at that,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “But she is ever so accomplished at it. And she would be accomplished at everything else had she only taken the trouble to learn!”
His companions all broke into laughter at his jest, though Elizabeth suspected it was one only those of certain knowledge would understand. Lady Rachel, seeing Elizabeth’s lack of reaction, guessed her lack of knowledge and leaned toward her.
“If you had ever met my aunt, you would understand. Lady Catherine would have been the best musician if she played an instrument, the best politician, if she entered politics, and would defeat the French tyrant before anyone even knew he had become a problem, if she had ever entered the army.”
“Then I hope I someday make her acquaintance,” said Elizabeth, “for the droll way in which you portray her is amusing, indeed.”
“Take care for what you wish, Miss Elizabeth,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, “for the reality of my aunt may be more than you had ever bargained for.”
The siblings all released their gaiety at the colonel’s statement, and Mr. Darcy laughed along with them, perhaps the first time Elizabeth had ever seen the gentleman indulge in a full-throated laugh. It made him more handsome and appealing, Elizabeth noted. Again, she saw Miss Bingley watching them, not to mention the woman’s look of awe at Mr. Darcy. Given how reticent the gentleman could be in the company of those with whom he was not comfortable, Elizabeth was certain Miss Bingley had never seen him laugh with such abandon. She would not again—or at least she would not provoke it.
At length, supper ended, and Lady Susan invited her guests back to the ballroom for the remainder of the dancing. Her children, though reluctant to end their conversation, arose and followed their mother’s instructions. Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth saw, went along with them, though she thought he would return to his home instead of partaking in the rest of the evening if he could manage it. Then the most curious thing happened.
As they walked, Elizabeth noted more of his attention on her, though she could not determine the reason for it. She thought he had something he wished to say, but whatever it was, it remained unsaid, for he ceded her company to the man with whom she was to dance the next sets without speaking.
Whatever he had thought to say, Elizabeth was certain it was important, perhaps among the most important things she had ever heard anyone say. But the moment was lost. In the back of her mind, Elizabeth wondered if it would ever return.
Giving Miss Bennet’s company up to another man was one of the most difficult sacrifices Darcy had ever imagined. Sitting in the company of his relations had opened his eyes, for while Fitzwilliam was jovial to all, Charity, for all her ebullience, was discriminating when choosing her friends, and Rachel’s fussiness was notorious.
And yet, they had all taken to the Bennet sisters as if there was no question of their suitability, and Charity and Miss Bennet appeared on the edge of becoming firm friends. The thoughts and feelings growing in Darcy’s mind teased and tickled him, the knowledge of her easy acceptance, and that of her sister removed any obstacle within the family of his interest in her.
Then the image of a scowling Lady Catherine came into Darcy’s mind, and he grimaced, knowing that all opposition would not disappear. Then again, Lady Catherine would disapprove if he married a daughter of Queen Charlotte herself, for no other reason than the woman would not be Anne. The earl might also have something to say, though Darcy knew he would not protest should Darcy remain adamant.
Thus, the only question remaining appeared to be whether he wished to have Miss Bennet for a wife, the answer for which was becoming a more pressing concern. That led to his current dilemma, for Darcy had almost asked Miss Bennet to dance a second time that evening.
Such a move was not advisable; not unless he wished to make her an enemy of most ladies present. It was an unfortunate fact that the fierce competition for potential spouses of a certain level meant that most ladies would think nothing of destroying a perceived rival if they thought it would increase their chances. If Darcy danced with her a second time at the same function, the rumors would be all over London by morning, leading to the potential for mischief. Darcy could not do that to her.
Within the next few weeks, they would leave London for the summer, and as Georgiana had determined to invite her to Pemberley, he would have all the time he needed away from the watching eyes of society to woo her as much as he pleased if that was what he wished. That Georgiana had not yet secured her agreement, he pushed to the side as inconsequential—their friendship was so strong, Darcy could not imagine her reply would be a refusal. It was this as much as anything that had convinced him to refrain when he would have liked nothing better than to ask her to dance again.
At length, his aunt approached and nodded in greeting, interrupting Darcy’s musings. Darcy responded in a fashion that could be considered absent, though his aunt did not seem to notice.
“Might I again inform you how much I like Miss Bennet?”
This opening surprised Darcy, and he wondered if he had been too overt in his admiration.
“My daughters,” continued she when Darcy did not reply, “left your little gathering at dinner full of her praise. While I might have expected it from Charity, Rachel’s eager agr
eement is something of a surprise.”
“That is true,” said Darcy, amused he had thought that very same thing only a short time before. “Rachel is not arrogant, but she does not take to new acquaintances like her sister.”
“Yet Miss Bennet charmed her with little trouble.”
“Yes, it is rather amazing, is it not?”
“The only question I have is what you think of her,” said Lady Susan.
Darcy turned and regarded her, wondering what his aunt was asking. When she saw his look, Lady Susan was quick to laugh and attempted to reassure him.
“Do not concern yourself, Darcy, for I have no intention of pushing you at the girl. There are, as you are no doubt aware yourself, concerns attendant to her situation which complicates any man’s pursuit. You may manage your affairs as you see fit, which you will do regardless.”
“Then you wish to know more of my general impression of her?” asked Darcy, thinking his aunt already knew.
“Perhaps,” said Lady Susan. “For instance, Georgiana was speaking of her wish to invite Miss Bennet to Pemberley for the summer. Has she taken any steps yet to do so?”
“Not at present,” replied Darcy, “though I have given her leave to extend the invitation whenever she wishes. Bingley also wishes to look for an estate in Derbyshire, and I have pledged my assistance. This summer, assuming Miss Bennet accepts, would be an excellent time to attend to that, and will provide another level of chaperonage for Miss Bennet.”
“An excellent notion,” replied Lady Susan. “I approve whole-heartedly. Do you think there will be any trouble in securing her guardian’s permission?”
“I cannot imagine there will be any difficulty,” replied Darcy. Then a thought struck him, and he grimaced. “If it were Lady Catherine’s former parson’s decision, I have no notion of how he would react, but by all accounts, Miss Bennet’s guardian is a man who cares for his niece’s happiness. If she wishes it, I cannot imagine he would disagree. A man of his position in society may even see it as an opportunity.”