by Ney Mitch
“You did?” I asked. “That surprises me. For I had said little to bring you any sort of comfort.”
“First, you had the unenviable task of getting me to speak when I would have never taken the pains to speak. You found a way of getting me to converse. I admired that. You also made me aware of the fact that I was not very forthcoming in my speech. I was at the point in my life where I found that simply leaning my attention toward a woman was enough. Our discussion cast a light on the fact that a woman should not be flattered simply because I show attention to her, but I must earn her admiration.”
We separated briefly as the dancing began, and then returned back to each other.
“Also,” he continued, “you made me comfortable. Until you began speaking of Wickham.”
“Yes, and that was when the pain began. Not just for you to hear, but for me to remember. Do you know what it is like, to have once been friends with a man who was not what he claimed, and who was not worth respecting? I was entirely deceived, but I suppose I had let myself be.”
“As I said before, Wickham was possessed with happy manners and was certain to always make friends. Your choosing to enjoy his company was no different than when I once did, as with so many others.”
We turned in the set, then our hands met again.
I nodded. “But as we had discussed it was more than that. He showed attention to me, and I had craved it because you had not. It is a pathetic reason. Especially when, given my memory of our past, you had been taking more pains to become better acquainted with me for some time. I had let my first impression of you ignore every other encounter for so long. Sometimes, I still reflect on my past and wonder where my mind had wandered to. For, the destination it had originally gone to was such a strange place.”
“Do not hate yourself,” he assured me, “for we are here now.”
“Yes, we are. Do you know something, Mr. Darcy?”
“What?”
“You make me quite happy.”
He looked toward me, and then he genuinely smiled. And I actually saw a dimple in his cheek!
“And I have made you smile,” I professed. “Now, that is no small miracle.”
He chuckled.
“And now I have you laughing a little! Now that is a great accomplishment.”
“Yes, I suppose that it is. Also, I wish to thank you, Miss Elizabeth.”
“For what?”
“For being kind to my sister. You, Miss Bennet, and Miss Kitty are the precise sort of company that she needs. You make her happy and I am glad of it. If you were to remain more in our lives, I think it would make her joyous.”
“Would it make you happy as well? I do not wish to remain in your life if you gain no satisfaction of it,” I said quite openly.
“It would make me very happy, of course,” he replied, his eyes returning to their ferocious seriousness.
As the dance separated us, my heart jumped ecstatically into my throat. At last, we returned to each other again, and our conversation resumed. “Very well. Then we’d all love to stay. We have grown quite fond of you both. It is all so strange, for we are two different sorts of families with two different sorts of ways. I suppose, in this sense, our differences do quite complement each other.”
“Yes, they do.”
“And now that I have you in a happy situation, I feel like you are prepared for more serious discussions—discussion that we perhaps do not wish to face, yet we must either way.”
“Must we?”
“Yes, we must, for neither you nor I shall ever get another chance. With Mr. Bingley and the Colonel.”
Mr. Darcy rolled his eyes and looked ahead, but not out of annoyance. It was a look of understanding and preparing himself for what needed to be spoken of.
“Ah yes, that disturbance in our moments of peace,” he extoled, “and things were going so well before that happened.”
“Yes, it is there to remind us all, that no matter how much peace we obtain in life, that peace must always be bought at the expense of tension.”
“Precisely.”
“But I wish to know if I was correct in what I saw. Yes, the Colonel knows of Bingley’s feelings, but I felt, in one quick instant, that Mr. Bingley deduced the Colonel’s feelings to Jane.”
He nodded. “And you would be correct. His requesting Miss Bennet’s hand for the next two dances was not done simply as a means to show his affection. Yet, it was also done as a way of establishing dominance. For, you know how male horses must not only obtain a mare to breed with, but he also feels a desire to kill every male to get to her? Well, that is the way that we men are sometimes. If we sense that another male feels for the woman we desire, then we wish to devour the male for impeding on our territory.”
“I can understand such. We women can often be similar in nature. I was just wishing to verify my observations. For, despite one’s desire to always have infallible judgment, you would have more experience at understanding the expressions of men, as I am more equipped at comprehending the minds of women. Up until this moment, were Mr. Bingley and the Colonel friends?”
“They did not encounter each other often, but when they did, they were always amicable.”
“Then can you not encourage them to remain so? I know that this is going to be a very uncomfortable place for you, but perhaps it is best that you bring them both together and have them confront their feelings for the same woman. For, if they are left to remain pondering their jealousies alone, it could ruin their respect for one another. I know that such an approach is unorthodox, but I believe the proper way of ignoring the situation is not beneficial to anyone.”
He swung me around. “If my father were here, he would find great amusement at both men being in a state of confusion, and that’s what inspires me to believe that ignoring the problem is hazardous. They are gentlemen, and if you speak with them both at the same time, perhaps they will remember it, and we do not have to wake up to them raising pistols at each other one day, out of their love for one woman.”
“Miss Elizabeth, I doubt either of them would forget themselves enough to do that.”
“Mark my words, Mr. Darcy. I have seen love make people commit all sorts of strange behavior. Recall my last encounter with Mr. Wickham. When in love, anyone is capable of all sorts of strange behavior.”
Mr. Darcy was silent on this. After a minute, he spoke again.
“You are correct. I shall speak with them both. Oh, god help me. That will be a hard time for me.”
“If it helps, I would have been willing to have spoken with them myself, but it is improper, and I am not allowed.”
“I know. I am the link between them. Therefore, the job must come to me.”
“Precisely. For you are one’s cousin and the other’s closest friend.”
He winced. “The pangs of actually having friendships.”
“Yes. Time and experience have taught me that perpetual peace only belongs to those who are apathetic and love no one at all. For love invites all other forms of emotional disturbances.”
“Yes, it does. The heart is the most expensive organ to have.”
We danced on and enjoyed each other’s company immensely. During the second set, I had managed to spy Jane and the Colonel dancing. Jane was smiling and talking animatedly, more animatedly than she had ever spoken with Mr. Bingley, and that was it!
The more that I thought on it, the more I noticed that both men excited two different states from her. With Bingley, Jane had maintained her usual serene nature, but was internally always affected by him. Yet, with the Colonel, Jane was never like her usual self. She was always more alive and more animated. I could not tell what this change fully signified. I did not know if her behavior with Mr. Bingley meant that Jane always was comfortable with being herself, or if the Colonel unleashed something inside of Jane that she was afraid of displaying before. I could not tell, in that moment, who she liked more.
“I see you looking on them,” Darcy noted, observing m
e as I was observing them.
“I just realized something,” I began.
“What?”
“That you were more correct than even you would know, and I would wish to admit.”
“How so?”
“Jane. When you were worried that she did not display any partiality for Mr. Bingley, you were right to be confused. Between her behavior to him and her behavior to the Colonel, I could not tell you which one she cares for more.”
“Precisely. She is one who is not easy to read.”
“For so long, I believed her to be shy. But she is not shy with the Colonel. Therefore, what does this all mean? I cannot know. And I cannot tell you now.”
“Perhaps that may mean that you and I both have complicated conversations to have with our relatives.”
“Yes. You with the Colonel and Bingley, and I with Jane. Never mind, we both have our obligations and duties.”
“Yes, we do.”
After that, we continued to enjoy ourselves.
“I am having a most delightful time!” Kitty exclaimed a bit out of breath as we were getting some punch. “With Sir Aleck dancing with me in the first set, it has allowed other gentlemen to find me suitable enough to become acquainted with. Lizzy, a man named Mr. Jenkins has just requested my hand. He is landed gentry and is magistrate in Essex. I don’t really care about all that, but he is handsome, and he likes to talk, so he should be a nice partner. He asked to stand up with me. Though, I hope that I shall like him as much as I did Sir Aleck.”
“You liked Sir Aleck?”
“Yes, very much. However, I know not to flatter myself with him. He was merely being charming in the general way and I do not fancy myself to be of any particular interest to him. He seems to be like that with everyone. Time has taught me not to be flattered so easily. But, for the moment, I did enjoy his company… and I do wish that we shall see him again.”
“We may, Kitty. We just may.”
As I studied her, I saw that she was doing her best to appear indifferent, but perhaps she was developing feelings for Sir Aleck. Looking around, I saw Sir Aleck speaking with Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, along with some other guests. He was lively, jovial, and laughing amongst them all. Truly, there was something about him that drew the eye. I knew that now was not the time to speak with Kitty about it, and perhaps she desired to not even mention it. For she was correct in feeling anything for him. Sir Aleck was ten years her senior, he was knighted, wealthy, and was certain to marry a woman who was of the highest in the ton. He was as much above us as Mr. Darcy was, and perhaps even more so. And yet, secretly I dreamed of Mr. Darcy one day choosing me. So, was I wrong to not believe that Kitty had a chance?
Yet, I was a realist. The sole reason that I believed that Mr. Darcy and I could have a match one day was because he had given me much encouragement. With Kitty, she had only been given a dance and it was to a man who was kind towards everyone. There was no partiality on his side, because he was partial to all.
After drinking her punch, she was claimed by Mr. Jenkins for the next set, and I excused myself from their company. Mr. Jenkins had seemed so eager to speak to her, that I sensed that he wanted to be alone with her. And that was a comfort to see.
A ball full of wealthy people was not the right time for her to be driven away by flights of fancy and fall in love so very quickly. All that there was for her here was the chance to increase her experiences and become acquainted with more people in the world. It was merely another night where she learned more about who she was, and not who she needed to marry.
For a moment, I wondered if she was the sort to even want to get married. Yes, we were always told that we must marry to save our futures, but on closer inspection, I wondered if Kitty even thought deeply on the idea. But rather, did she once entertain the notion because that was the only future that was laid out for us? Now that I thought about it, when did I ever hear Kitty speak seriously about getting married? She enjoyed the idea of falling in love, but that was for the fun of it all. Never did she speak of marriage. Who was my sister?
I was pulled out of these musings when I realized that I had no foundations for what I was thinking. After all, this was already a ball of errors occurring. My thoughts and theories did not need to be added to the mixture.
Chapter 15
The Deadly Sin
As I walked along the table, heading back to where Mr. Darcy was, I spied Miss Bingley, who was speaking with another woman. In that moment, I had recalled our conversation at the Netherfield Ball. That is the bitter irony of life. Sometimes, the happier moments slip away from us, but it is often the discussions you have with your enemies that are the conversations you remember forever. It is an egregious mistake on all our parts, but it is also a way of life.
And when glimpsing her, I recalled every word of our discussion. And of course, it had to be about Mr. Wickham…
* * *
Soon after Mr. Darcy and I had danced with each other, Miss Bingley came towards me, with an expression of civil disdain. Very soon upon seeing me, she attacked the subject of my generous feelings towards Wickham.
“So,” she began, “Miss Eliza, I hear you are quite delighted with George Wickham! Your sister has been talking to me about him and asking me a thousand questions. And I find that the young man quite forgot to tell you, among his other communication, that he was the son of old Wickham, the late Mr. Darcy's steward.”
At this moment, she laughed condescendingly at the idea of his low connections. Then she quieted down and continued her report. “Let me recommend you, however, as a friend, not to give implicit confidence to all his assertions, for as to Mr. Darcy's using him ill, it is perfectly false. For, on the contrary, he has always been remarkably kind to him, though George Wickham has treated Mr. Darcy in a most infamous manner. I do not know the particulars, but I know very well that Mr. Darcy is not in the least to blame, that he cannot bear to hear George Wickham mentioned, and that though my brother thought that he could not well avoid including him in his invitation to the officers, he was excessively glad to find that he had taken himself out of the way. His coming into the country at all is a most insolent thing, indeed, and I wonder how he could presume to do it. I pity you, Miss Eliza, for this discovery of your favorite's guilt. But really, considering his descent, one could not expect much better.”
I had held my disdain for her interference internally and replied with civility that had a tinge of stiffness.
“His guilt and his descent appear by your account to be the same,” I replied, but words dripped eventually with anger. “For I have heard you accuse him of nothing worse than of being the son of Mr. Darcy's steward, and of that, I can assure you, he informed me himself.”
She saw, in that moment, that she had gained no triumph over me.
“I beg your pardon,” replied Miss Bingley, turning away with derision. “Excuse my interference—it was kindly meant.”
Once she left my side, I turned away from her, indignant.
“Insolent girl!” I uttered to myself. “You are much mistaken if you expect to influence me by such a paltry attack as this. I see nothing in it but your own willful ignorance and the malice of Mr. Darcy.” Afterwards, I had gone off to speak to Jane about it, who also had no favorable report to hear of Mr. Wickham…
* * *
And now here I was, at another ball, and watching her from the outside, looking in. Miss Bingley was a handsome woman, but there was coldness within her that invited no warmth and therefore, she had been her own worst enemy. We all, at times, create our own prisons, and without knowing it, she had created her own. Yet, was I so different? After all, I had once believed so faithfully in Wickham, and believed so faithlessly in Mr. Darcy. I had created my own version of hell at one time.
And, despite her ill intentions, Miss Bingley had once tried to warn me. In fact, despite it all, I had to admit that Miss Bingley had once tried to do me a service and had been correct about something.
Of course, her
judgment had come from a place of meanness and prejudice to those who were poorer than she was, but she had tried to warn me about Wickham’s true character. I was the one who did not listen initially and had clung to prejudice.
As painful as this was to admit, perhaps I did owe her something.
Soon, her friend had left her side and Miss Bingley was left alone. Turning around to see who she could speak with, she saw me. Despite our mutual dislike of each other, we were like lemons to each other: we were sour to bite into, but we were still drawn to each other’s taste. Therefore, she took a few steps towards me and began the conversation.
“So, Miss Eliza,” she began, “you found your way into our world.”
“Yes, by mere happenstance, I have fallen on the doorstep of fortune,” I responded evenly. “Though, home shall always be home for me.”
“Yes, I always saw you so much enjoying the country that I never even thought the city would suit you.”
“It reminds me of when you said that I was a great reader and took no pleasure in anything else. As in this case, I deserve neither such praise nor such censure. I love the country, but my taste will never be so singular.”
“Beg your pardon.”
“Did you enjoy your dance with Sir Aleck?”
“I did indeed. He is a pleasant man.”
“Yes, he is.”
An awkwardness was about to fall between us, and for some reason, I was not in the mood for it. Also, I was willing to be generous. For, in that moment, I felt sorry for Miss Bingley…though she had done little to deserve it.
“Miss Bingley, I have to thank you,” I announced.
She raised one eyebrow.
“Thank me? For what?”
“For when you tried to warn me about Mr. Wickham. You were right. He did treat Mr. Darcy in an infamous manner, and he was deceitful in many ways.”
This confession disarmed her, and she looked around, insecure.
“You are welcome,” she responded, awkwardly. “I was merely trying to supply a service. I know how you found his manner agreeable.”