by Massey, Beth
The barely concealed displeasure of her hostess when she entered the room caused Elizabeth to think more prudently about her plans. She answered Mr Bingley’s solicitous questions about her sister’s well being and noted his enthusiasm with the news that she believed Jane was improved enough to join them after dinner. Sparring with a threatened Miss Bingley would not be the best thing for promoting an attachment between her host and Jane. She settled on a sofa and began to work on a needlework sampler she was making for Mary’s new home.
Mr Darcy noticed her arrival out of the corner of his eye, but decided he should not indulge in risky behaviour today. After retiring the previous evening, he had chastised himself for becoming too involved with her and provoking Caroline’s animosity. Still, it had not prevented his dreaming of dancing with her at the ball. That interlude had been quite vivid and immensely enjoyable.
After several minutes of silence, Miss Bingley was anxious to resume demeaning Miss Eliza in Mr Darcy’s eyes. She got up and walked about the room. Her figure was elegant, and she walked well; but Darcy, at whom it was all aimed, had gone back to reading his book. Her strategy was dangerous, but she determined that a side-by-side comparison would both get his attention and show her charms to advantage—her rival was short and had little grace. “Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude.”
Miss Bingley’s ploy succeeded in getting Mr Darcy’s notice. He looked up in the hopes he would be able to observe the object of his affection walk and decidedly closed his book.
Elizabeth declined and added that she had spent much of her day going up and down the stairs on errands for her sister’s comfort and preferred to spend the time working on a Christmas present for her sister Mary.
Mr Darcy returned to reading with a slightly crestfallen look.
Miss Bingley, however, was incapable of disappointing him in anything, and she acted very imprudently considering her mission, “Please explain why you would deny your hostess the pleasure of your company. Surely, it is more than a desire to be indolent. Your reputation as an excellent walker is well known to us.”
A shudder of fear ran through Elizabeth. Was Miss Bingley only referring to her walking to Netherfield? Had Mr Darcy told his close acquaintances of meeting her in London? She flashed a look filled with fury at him and determined to divert this conversation away from herself. “I have not the smallest objection of explaining my reasons. You either ask me to join you because you have secrets to discuss with me, or because you are conscious that your figure appears to the greatest advantage while walking. Now, if your motive is the first, I guard my privacy fervently, and I would completely thwart your intentions. If the second, Mr Darcy can admire you much better without my presence to distract him. I believe it is well known in the neighbourhood that he thinks me less than tolerable.”
“Oh! shocking!” cried Miss Bingley. “I never heard anything so wretched. How shall we punish him for such behaviour?”
“Nothing is so easy, if you have but the inclination,” said Elizabeth. “His speech at the assembly—in response to yours, I was told—left him open to easy retribution. Tease him… laugh at him. That is what I would do if I had the inclination. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done.”
“But upon my word, I do not. I do assure you that my intimacy has not yet taught me how to make fun of such a man as Mr Darcy. How does one tease calmness of temper and presence of mind? No, no, I feel he would defy me and provide me with no opportunity to find his weakness. And as to laughter, it would not do to laugh at such a man. Mr Darcy is the epitome of seriousness.”
“Mr Darcy is not to be laughed at!” cried Elizabeth. She had accomplished her goal of diverting attention from herself. Her anger lessened and she even began to anticipate his involvement in the current debate with some pleasure. However, her next remarks were pointed to remind him of their pact. “What an uncommon man. I have never met such a man before, and I hope I never will again. The ability to find humour in many things, including themselves, is high on my list when I choose my acquaintances. I dearly love to laugh.”
He spoke directly to her. “Miss Bingley has given me credit for more than can be. The wisest and the best of men, and their actions, may be rendered ridiculous by a person such as your beloved Moliere—or perhaps even your father—whose first object in life is mockery.”
Elizabeth was so caught up in enjoyment of his reply and failed to notice his slip. She felt compelled instead to prick his memory. “Certainly, there are such people, but I hope I never tease about what is wise or good. As you say, I do love Moliere… and my father. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, do divert us. I think perhaps, these characteristics are precisely what you are without and not a sense of humour.”
“Perhaps I too have at times been diverted by life’s irony. But it has always been my intention to avoid those weaknesses which often expose one to ridicule.”
The arrogant look on his face brought to mind his presenting the proposal to buy her baby, and her reply reflected her buried anger with that act. “Such as vanity and pride.”
Mr Darcy realized the conversation had suddenly taken a serious turn. Her examples were weaknesses of which she truly felt him guilty. He needed to answer her in such a way that he might win her over. “Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride… where there is a real superiority of mind… pride is not a fault. Pride should, however, always be kept under good regulation.”
He was unsuccessful, and Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile at his pompous reply.
Miss Bingley was annoyed that the conversation had become, once again, between Mr Darcy and Miss Eliza. However, she was pleased that her rival had decided to disparage the object of her pursuit and decided to push the issue. “You seem to enjoy examining Mr Darcy’s character. Pray what is the result?”
“Despite his forming a poor opinion of me without the benefit of an introduction, I have concluded he is a good man.”
Miss Bingley smiled coyly at the man she had set out to impress. “Yes, I agree. Mr Darcy is without defect.”
“No,” said Darcy, “I have faults enough, but not of understanding. I do have a temper, which I try to keep in check, but I believe I am too resentful, and cannot forget the vices of others as soon as I ought. My good opinion once lost is lost forever.”
Elizabeth’s voice was filled with barely controlled passion as she replied, “That is a failing indeed, and I must confess I am equally guilty! I am willing to forgive minor offenses, but in the case of major transgressions, implacable resentment has definitely manifested itself as a shade in my character. We have both chosen our fault well. My failing comes from life experience, and I really cannot laugh at it. I am certain you find nothing humorous about how you acquired the trait.”
Mr Darcy looked startled at her fervour and tried to pacify her with his words. “There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil—a natural defect.”
Elizabeth was not calmed, but she did smile sweetly as she said, “And your defect is a form of poorly regulated pride that causes you to forgive only those in your circle.”
“And yours,” he replied, with a similar smile, “is to wilfully misunderstand me.”
“Do let us have a little music,” cried Miss Bingley, tired of a conversation in which she had no share, but pleased with the animosity Miss Eliza had shown toward Darcy. “Louisa, you will not mind my waking Mr Hurst.”
Her sister made not the smallest objection, and the pianoforte was opened. Darcy, after a few moments, was not sorry for it. He began to feel the danger of having exposed too much of their previous relationship.
Elizabeth returned to her needlework and ignored her companions. Her mood was entirely different than it had been when she had come downstairs with the nonsensical idea that she could engage in some harmless flirting.
Fo
r the last five years, he had convinced himself that she was without morals, and despite her youth, a crass opportunist. This discussion had left him confused. The contrast between Miss Elizabeth and Miss Bingley was stark. She had become genuinely angry and seemed bent on pushing him away, while Caroline had oozed with obsequious fawning.
That evening, when the ladies removed after dinner, Elizabeth ran up to her sister, and after ensuring she was well guarded from cold, brought her down to the drawing room. There Mr Bingley’s sisters, with many professions of pleasure, welcomed her. Elizabeth conceded that she passed an agreeable hour before Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy joined them.
But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer the first object. Miss Bingley’s eyes were drawn toward Mr Darcy, and she immediately engaged him in conversation. He, for his part, addressed himself toward Miss Bennet, with polite congratulation for her improved health. Mr Hurst also made a slight bow toward Jane, and said he was very glad for her recovery; but felicity at her appearance was exemplified by Bingley’s greeting. He was full of joy and made every effort to ensure her comfort. He sat down beside her, and talked scarcely to anyone else. Elizabeth, at work in the opposite corner, saw it all with great delight.
Mr Darcy did not pay much attention to the tête-à-tête between his friend and Miss Bennet. He spent his time surreptitiously watching Elizabeth while pretending to read—as had become his habit. He wanted to get back in her good graces but was at a loss how to achieve that state. She had seemed to say with sincerity that he was a good man.
Lizzy noticed Miss Bingley was not as pleased as she was with her brother’s interest. After a few minutes, she asked her brother a question designed to break up his private conversation with Jane.“By the bye, Charles, are you really serious about hosting a ball at Netherfield? I would advise you, before you decide for certain, to consult the wishes of the present party. If I am not mistaken, there are some among us to whom a ball would be a punishment rather than a pleasure.”
“If you mean Darcy,” cried her brother, “he may go to bed, if he chooses, before it begins… but a ball we shall have.” With a smile toward Jane, he said with great emotion, “it is quite a settled thing. I will begin plans immediately.”
Miss Bingley was disturbed by her brother’s enthusiasm and renewed her opposition. “I should like balls a great deal more, if they were carried on in a different manner. They are often insufferably tedious and rarely an efficient venue for meeting new people. It would surely be much more rational if conversation, instead of dancing, were the order of the day.”
Darcy was thinking how enjoyable a ball would be if he could find a way to persuade Miss Elizabeth to attend. He spent some time imaging what she would look like in a ball gown. With all the boldness of his desire, he decided to make his feelings about this particular dance known. “Much more rational, Miss Bingley, but it would not be much like a ball. I, for one, am looking forward to the occasion.”
Miss Bingley made no answer. She seemed to be continually thwarted in her attempt to ingratiate herself to Mr Darcy and disparage the Bennets.
The following afternoon found Miss Bingley once again wanting to engage Darcy in conversation, and she settled on the topic she knew was one of his favourites—and one Miss Eliza could have no part in . “How are your children? Have they grown? Is it too soon to tell whether both of them will be tall like their father, or small like their mother?”
“Both of them will most likely be tall like the Fitzwilliams. Lewis will probably look a great deal like me. He has dark curly hair and dark eyes. Bethany has green eyes like Anne, but her hair is like neither her mother’s nor mine. She has light brown curls with red and gold threads running through them—much like Miss Elizabeth’s. She probably inherited the hair from someone in the De Bourgh family. Her hair is one of her most beautiful features.”
Elizabeth kept her head down and pretended to be engrossed in reading the copy of Marlowe’s Dr Faustus she had found in Netherfield’s library. Mr Darcy had agreed not to tell her about Bethany. Her fear that day had been that she might cry in his presence—now he was telling her about her daughter with strangers present. She was suddenly overwhelmed with the knowledge that her daughter had hair and eyes like hers, and this disclosure by Mr Darcy did indeed cause her to feel the pooling of tears. Luckily Anne had green eyes, so Bethany’s colouring would not be so very controversial. She had always assumed that she would look like Lord Wolfbridge, who in turn looked like all the Fitzwilliams, or so she had been told. She was troubled that Darcy had drawn attention to her hair colour, and wondered why.
Miss Bingley was not happy with the reference to Elizabeth. However, she wanted to continue the conversation with Darcy. “Is Miss Darcy much grown since last I saw her? Will she be as tall as I am?”
“I think she will also be tall like the Fitzwilliams,” Darcy replied. “She is now rather taller than Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s height, but of course, she is only fifteen, and it is possible she may grow a bit more.”
“I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so. Such a countenance, such manners and so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite.”
“It is amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how all young ladies can have the patience to be as accomplished as they all are.”
Miss Bingley scoffed at the idea of all ladies being accomplished.
Bingley continued with his observations. “They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know one who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.”
Darcy felt this a perfect occasion to force Bingley to think more critically about his current inamorata. “Your list is not very extensive, but I am sure accurate as to what most women achieve. Calling a woman accomplished should not be applied to women who deserve it only because they can net a purse or cover a screen—or even make fragrances.” He paused to observe Bingley’s reaction but missed Elizabeth’s. “I am far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general being accomplished. I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen, in all of my acquaintance, who deserve such praise.”
“Nor I,” cried Caroline in her most ingratiating voice.
“You expect a great deal from a woman,” observed Elizabeth. She was feeling more than a bit of irritation caused by his careless references to her when discussing his children and his sister—and now he had disparaged Jane to Mr Bingley.
“Yes, I do expect a great deal.”
“Certainly,” said Miss Bingley, “No one can be really esteemed accomplished, without a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing and the modern languages. Besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions.”
Elizabeth choked back a laugh at Miss Bingley’s preposterous list. Her anger toward Darcy combined with Miss Bingley’s grating personality was causing her to have momentary compassion for her mother’s histrionics. Elizabeth knew she should keep quiet, but her natural tendency toward impertinence was getting the better of her. “I fear many of these requirements seem quite useless to me, and it would be a waste of my time to develop them just so I could be on somebody’s list of accomplished women—even if it was a short list.” Mr Darcy was given a sweetly arch smile before she spoke directly to Miss Bingley. “They only seem beneficial to enhance a woman’s marriage potential and remind me, I might say, of characteristics required in dogs or horses when one is looking to buy. I have chosen to develop other accomplishments that are more appropriate to my circumstance.”
Elizabeth decided to send a message to Mr Darcy to be careful though she continued to address her remarks to Miss Bingley. “Some of the accomplishments on your list, I have developed merely to enhance my own pleasure. That is why I learned to play and sing. I never go to assemblies or balls, but I still dan
ce at home with my sisters and find practicing with them very invigorating; although I am sure my skills are not those displayed in the best ballrooms in London. Your mention of a certain manner of walking makes me add the need for endurance. One never knows when it might be necessary to walk from Grosvenor Square to Cheapside or to visit an ill sister.”
Miss Bingley looked noticeably confused by Miss Eliza’s remarks. What was she talking about walking from Grosvenor Square to Cheapside?
Darcy who had been enjoying her impertinence, blanched at her reference to her walk from his home to her aunt and uncle’s six years ago. He no longer thought her so clever. She was purposely baiting him, and not abiding by the agreement they had made at Oakham Mount.
He knew he would probably regret his remark, but he wanted her to realize how reckless she was being. “Yes I would agree being able to accomplish long walks is exceptional, and becomes even more appreciated as an accomplishment if it is unimportant whether she is wearing boots or slippers.”
“What think you of Miss Bingley’s list of accomplishments, Mr Darcy?” Elizabeth asked softly.
“I think it incomplete,” he said with gravity. “To all this she must add an unimpeachable character and not a trace of indiscretion, deception or disguise.”
“I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women,” said she after a moment. “I rather wonder at your knowing any.”
Miss Bingley realized that Mr Darcy and Miss Eliza were having a private conversation, and wanted to put an end to it. She directed her remark to Elizabeth. “Are you so severe upon your own sex, as to doubt the possibility?”