by Nancy Kelley
His eyes lit on the pianoforte, and he remembered how well he had enjoyed listening to Elizabeth play at Lucas Lodge. "Miss Bingley, Miss Bennet, perhaps you would be good enough to grace us with your musical talents."
His brow tightened in a frown when Miss Bingley moved toward the instrument with unladylike haste. She recalled her manners just in time and turned to her guest with false politeness. "I would be delighted if you would entertain us first, Miss Bennet," she said, the lie patently obvious by the look on her face.
Miss Bennet's half-smile seemed to say that she felt the insult just as keenly as Darcy did, but she would not acknowledge it. "No, indeed, Miss Bingley, I am quite satisfied to be the listener this evening. Please, you go ahead."
So she truly does not care to perform. Darcy had wondered if the attitude she showed at the Lucas party was typical for her. His admiration of her rose; Miss Bingley had bordered on bad manners in first her eagerness to perform and then the obvious afterthought with which she offered the instrument to her guest, but Miss Bennet was gracious enough to ignore both slights.
He listened to Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst play and sing with half an ear, but his attention was focused on Miss Bennet as she strolled the room, eventually walking up to the pianoforte and perusing the music lying on top of it. She swayed slightly to the song, and he was struck by the impulse to dance with her.
He approached her and said, "Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?" He waited a minute for her answer, sure of what it would be. Though she smiled, she remained silent. Finally, he repeated his request, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. I had thought all young ladies ready to dance when asked.
Elizabeth set her music down and looked at him, her eyes lit with mischief. "Oh! I heard you before; but I cannot immediately determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say 'Yes,' that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always delight in overthrowing those kinds of schemes, and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt. I have, therefore, made up my mind to tell you that I do not want to dance a reel at all--and now despise me if you dare."
Her words elicited a smile from him. "Indeed, I do not dare," he promised her, taking pleasure in the bemusement he saw in her own eyes. Miss Elizabeth Bennet evidently took great pleasure in a sort of verbal sparring and had expected him to offer a parry in answer to her riposte. However, there was something about her manner that drew him in, rather than upsetting or unsettling him. Were it not for the inferiority of her connections, I would be in some danger of falling in love, he realized with surprise.
The next afternoon, Darcy tried to take a solitary walk. He was not used to being so constantly in the company of others, and he greatly desired time to himself. Though the Netherfield library might be lacking, its gardens certainly were not. Here, among the twisting paths and walkways, Darcy was able to lose himself for a time. Surrounded by peace and quiet, he took a few deep breaths and finally began to relax.
However, just as he started to contemplate his rather unexpected response to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, his privacy was most unwelcomingly interrupted when Miss Bingley joined him from one of the side garden paths.
"Mr. Darcy! Why, I never expected to see you out walking on such a day as this."
Her lips curled into a coy smile, and Darcy knew she lied. The only thing which could persuade Miss Bingley to leave the comfort of her private sitting room was the company of a gentleman, and he realized with a start that her attentions to him were becoming quite marked.
"Miss Bingley," he said with the utmost civility, "I must tell you, you have not found me at the best of moments. I have several things on my mind and will not be a very good companion."
She took his arm and he went cold at her touch. "I can only imagine what things must be occupying your thoughts at present, Mr. Darcy. Why, your impending marriage into the Bennet family is of great interest even to myself, and I am not a concerned party." Miss Bingley walked farther down the path, and as she had possession of his arm, Darcy had no choice but to join her.
"I am afraid I do not follow."
"Oh, I do not mean that I am not interested in your future happiness!" cried she. "On the contrary, it is a subject which I have given much thought, and I have a few suggestions if I may."
There did not seem to be a polite way to avoid further conversation, so he bowed his head in acquiescence.
Miss Bingley's face took on the expression of a governess scolding a naughty child. It was completely out of place with her flirtatious tone of voice, and Darcy nearly laughed at the odd pairing. "I hope you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of her holding her tongue; and if you can compass it, do cure the younger girls of running after the officers. And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavor to check that little something bordering on conceit and impertinence, which your lady possesses."
Perhaps if Miss Bingley had not added this last about Elizabeth, her words would have landed on fertile ground. Instead, Darcy experienced a mad desire to discount everything she had said and do the opposite of what she wished. "Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?" he asked, keeping his tone disinterested.
She tilted her head in consideration, a gesture he knew was designed to draw his gaze to the graceful curve of her neck. "Oh yes!" She squeezed his arm and Darcy fought the urge to shake her off. "Do let the portraits of your Uncle and Aunt Phillips be placed in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great uncle, the judge. They are in the same profession, you know, only in different lines. As for your Elizabeth's picture, you must not attempt to have it taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?"
His own indignation finally rose to the surface, and he expressed it in a manner he knew would most upset his partner. "It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression." He had not intended to say anything else, but once he began, he found he could not stop. "But their color and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied." Miss Bingley blushed in vexation and her step faltered, and he took great pleasure in knowing that his words had upset her.
It was perhaps to his advantage that they were at that moment joined by the young lady in question, who was walking with Mrs. Hurst. There was much Darcy could have said in general approbation of Miss Elizabeth that he might have regretted sharing with anyone, especially Miss Bingley.
"I did not know that you intended to walk," Miss Bingley said, and Darcy noted in her tone a general unease that Miss Elizabeth might have perceived some of their conversation. He had the benefit of being able to read Elizabeth's expression well enough to know that she had not, so he was comfortable in the knowledge that she had not heard his praise of her, nor Miss Bingley's censure of her family.
Mrs. Hurst pouted. "You used us abominably ill," she answered her sister, "in running off without telling us that you were coming out."
Then, before Darcy could object, Mrs. Hurst took the arm that Miss Bingley was not holding, leaving them to walk three abreast on the path, with no room for Miss Elizabeth to join them. He instantly saw the insult of their behavior and was ashamed of them, on Bingley's behalf. "This walk is not wide enough for our party," said he. "We had better go into the avenue."
But it seemed Miss Elizabeth was unable to be offended. Instead of encouraging such an action, she laughed and said, "No, no; stay where you are. You are charmingly grouped, and appear to uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a fourth. Goodbye."
Darcy's gaze followed her down the path until she was out of sight, and when his companions again began their idle chatter, he wished mightily that he had been able to join her instead.
Chapter Nine
Darcy was still thinking of Elizabeth's calm, easy manner a few hours later when the dinner hour was announced. When he entered the dining room, he was surprised to find the elde
st Miss Bennet had joined them. At the general exclamations of the party, she smiled and said that she felt much better.
Darcy noticed with some displeasure that Bingley could not keep his eyes off Jane Bennet, and later when the ladies had withdrawn and the gentlemen were enjoying their port, Bingley continually glanced at the clock. After the tenth time, his face broke into a broad smile, and he said, "Ah, I believe it is time we rejoin the ladies, gentlemen!"
Bingley led the way to the drawing room, and Darcy frowned at his back. His attentions are becoming quite decided.
However, Darcy could not keep his friend away from Miss Bennet, because Miss Bingley sidled up to him as soon as they entered the drawing room. Her manners are nearly as bold as those of the younger Bennet sisters.
"Mr. Darcy," he forced himself not to physically recoil from the purr in her voice, "it seems we will soon have Netherfield to ourselves once more."
He ignored her insinuations and presented himself to Miss Bennet. "Miss Bennet, it is good to see you are well enough to be about."
She smiled graciously. "Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I confess I had rather wearied of the four walls of my room."
Beside Darcy, Mr. Hurst sketched a respectable bow. "Yes indeed, Miss Bennet, we are very glad to see you in company once more." Hurst hovered near his sister-in-law, and Darcy knew he would soon ask for the card table.
Darcy looked around the room for Bingley and found him stoking the fire. Amusement warred with concern when he saw his friend pull a comfortable armchair closer to the hearth and then approach the lady.
"Miss Bennet! I am so relieved to see you are on the mend. I declare I was quite miserable at the thought of your discomfort."
Jane Bennet lowered her eyes demurely. "You are too kind, Mr. Bingley."
Darcy tapped his fingers against his leg. Is this to be her only response to all of Bingley's efforts on her behalf?
"Please, will you not move farther away from the door? We would not want you to take a chill from the draught and fall ill again. See, I have positioned a chair for you by the fire."
"Yes, I believe the warmth would feel nice." Her smile was sweet, but to Darcy, it did not appear to hold any affection she had not shown either Hurst or himself.
Darcy took the seat Miss Bennet had just abandoned. Its proximity to the door did not bother him in the slightest, and it had something more to recommend it: as Miss Elizabeth occupied the only other chair near it, Miss Bingley could not easily disturb him.
When the tea things were removed, Mr. Hurst made his request. "How shall we spend our time this evening?" Miss Bingley ignored him, and he asked once more. "Miss Bingley, might we play cards this evening?"
"Oh no, Mr. Hurst. I am afraid no one intends to play," Miss Bingley quickly assured him before she turned back to the rest of the party.
Darcy knew she had asked Bingley if he wished for cards. Her attentions grated on him far more than her brother's toward Miss Bennet, and he felt rather like a fox among the hounds.
Desiring to ignore the company for a time, Darcy selected a book from the table. Even that attempt was thwarted, however, for Miss Bingley, too, stood and chose a book. Darcy bit back a smile when he saw she had the companion to his book. Volume two of Don Quixote will do you little good without having read the first.
His amusement soon turned to irritation for every minute she was interrupting him with a question or remark, often calling from across the room to ask for explanation of a passage. Miss Bingley's disruptions were of double annoyance, as they kept him from the true purpose of reading, which was to distract himself from the presence of Miss Elizabeth. Each time she asked a question or sighed over Cervantes' language, his gaze unerringly fell on that lady.
Her loveliness tonight surpassed what he had seen in the previous days, and after some surreptitious glances, he realized the worry lines on her forehead had eased. She smiled over at her sister, and he could well understand how concern for a loved one might mar her own enjoyment of simple entertainments.
Miss Bingley, meanwhile, did not appreciate being ignored. Each comment was a little louder, each sigh more pronounced. Still he did not reply. It did not surprise Darcy, therefore, when some fifteen minutes later, she held her volume up and said, with a practiced yawn, "How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way! I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library."
She glanced at Darcy with a sly smile. The words, "Like yours at Pemberley" hung in the air so loudly that he thought for moment she had actually spoken them. Impertinent! Darcy fixed his eyes on his book.
After a few minutes of silence, Miss Bingley threw aside the book--that which she would never tire of-- and sought something else to hold her attention. Darcy did not hold out much hope that she would not return to bother him more later, but for now at least she was easily drawn into the conversation between her brother and Miss Elizabeth regarding the promised ball.
"By the bye, Charles, are you really serious in meditating a dance at Netherfield Park? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult the wishes of the present party; I am very much mistaken if there are not some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a pleasure."
She tilted her head in Darcy's direction, and he cringed at the obvious reference to himself. He would have responded had Bingley not beat him to it. "If you mean Darcy, he may go to bed, if he chooses, before it begins--but as for the ball, it is quite a settled thing; and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough I shall send round my cards."
Miss Bingley persisted, undaunted. "I should like balls infinitely better if they were carried on in a different manner; but there is something insufferably tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It would surely be much more rational if conversation instead of dancing made the order of the day."
It is only with the greatest of restraint that Darcy could keep his amusement from showing. Never before had the lady shown any dislike of balls; in fact, her enthusiasm for them was well known among their circle of friends. As for conversation, it seems the only time she enjoys that is when she can gain something by it.
As her brother, Bingley was not so constrained by the rules of propriety. "Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I daresay, but it would not be near so much like a ball." It was the perfect answer, and Darcy mentally took his hat off to him.
A moment later, tired of pursuing a conversation which was not gaining her the end she sought, Miss Bingley rose from her seat and started walking around the room. It was easy for him to ascertain her intent in doing so; she had a pleasant figure and was hoping to draw attention to that fact. Darcy took advantage of her momentary silence to attend to his book.
"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." Here at last Miss Bingley succeeded in gaining his attention. When Miss Elizabeth stood, Darcy's eyes followed her, and when Miss Bingley took her arm and they began to parade around the room together, he set down his book and leaned forward slightly.
Miss Bingley could not have known how she would show in comparison to Miss Elizabeth, or she would not have invited the lady to join her. Though Miss Bingley's figure looked quite fine while walking, there was again something about Miss Elizabeth Bennet that he could not take his eyes from. Her form was nothing out of the common way, but the ease and confidence with which she carried herself was extraordinary. When engaged in conversation, she tilted her head toward her partner, her whole being focused on that invidual. Why does she not turn that expression toward me?
The desire surprised and discomfited him, and for once he was glad when Miss Bingley spoke. "Would you care to join us, Mr. Darcy? I believe there is room for three to walk together here."
The reference to their walk the previous day and the rudeness whic
h had concluded it chilled his feelings toward her even further, and he declined. "I am afraid you must excuse me--you could have only two motives for walking about the room, and I would interfere with either."
Miss Bingley turned to her companion and said, with all sense of confidence, "What could he mean? I am dying to know what could be his meaning. Miss Eliza, can you at all understand him?"
Miss Elizabeth tilted her head toward him and said with laughing eyes, "Not at all, but depend upon it, he means to be severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing about it."
There was a certain wisdom in her words that made Darcy smile. She began to understand him, a thought which pleased him more than he cared to admit. Miss Bingley, however, was not content to leave it thus and turned to him. "Mr. Darcy, you have utterly confused us both by your odd words. Pray, sir, what are the two motives you speak of?"
Darcy leaned back in his seat and, keeping his attention focused on Miss Elizabeth, answered easily. "I have not the smallest objection to explaining them. You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other's confidence and have secret affairs to discuss --" he greatly enjoyed the flash of annoyance in Miss Bingley's eyes when he suggested it--"or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking; if the first, I should be completely in your way; and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire."