“Miss Eliza is too kind,” said Miss Bingley through her teeth.
Mrs. Forsythe failed to suppress a smirk. “I shall count on both of your performances then.”
After that, Elizabeth went to sit down and made polite conversation with whichever ladies happened to be near her, calmly deflecting impertinent inquiries into her and her sister’s situation. The details of her family, history and fortune would doubtless be food for gossips soon enough. The company here was certainly more elegantly dressed than any in Hertfordshire, and with more refined manners, but she could not, for all that, see much that impressed her or made her think them superior. Their minds did not appear to be more enlightened, nor their tempers better regulated than her country acquaintances. She did not even like Mrs. Forsythe very much, realizing that she was here primarily because Mr. Darcy’s attentions on Thursday had made her an object of interest, and because Mrs. Forsythe was evidently anxious to curry favor with a potential Mrs. Darcy.
The interval was enough to calm her anger at Miss Bingley’s obvious ploys and to replace it with amusement. In fact, the more she thought of it, the more amused she became. What an end to all that lady’s hopes! What a humiliation—a very just humiliation, she felt. It was no wonder that Miss Bingley strove to place any barrier between Mr. Darcy and herself. Well, she would not succeed.
As the gentlemen began to appear, Elizabeth removed herself and her newly filled tea cup to a seat near the back of the room to observe the proceedings. As her aunt and Jane sat together, engrossed in a conversation with one or two older ladies, she felt comfortable leaving them to themselves.
The funniest thing, from her point of view, was the fact that Miss Bingley latched onto Darcy almost the moment he walked into the room. She was initially successful in steering him in the opposite direction from Elizabeth and sent the other woman a rather smug, triumphant glance, but Elizabeth just sipped her tea calmly. She had no intention of engaging in a childish war for Mr. Darcy’s attention. She was not going to go over there and seize his other arm possessively. Besides, she had no need of such tactics. He would come to her all on his own.
Darcy had been beginning to look for her when Miss Bingley accosted him; at first civility required him to give her his attention, but soon enough his eyes were roaming again. When first they found Elizabeth, she was saying something to the person sitting in front of her, but then she glanced up and encountered his gaze. She looked straight at him, smiled a slow, deliberate smile, and blinked her eyes once, slowly.
Even as she spoke to him, Miss Bingley heard his quick, indrawn breath. The next moment, he interrupted what she was saying to murmur, “Pray excuse me, madam,” and then he detached himself and was gone. By the time she could gather her composure, he was seating himself in the empty seat next to Miss Bennet.
It’s not trifling when we’re engaged, is it? wondered Elizabeth as she watched him come. She felt slightly guilty for summoning him in such a way, just to prove her point to Miss Bingley, but he had such a content look as he settled himself next to her that she could not regret it.
Feeling Miss Bingley’s chagrined gaze on them, Elizabeth looked up and smiled at her.
Unbeknownst to her, Darcy caught the exchange of glances and correctly interpreted them. Recalling Elizabeth’s unmistakably beckoning look, he did not know whether to be amused or offended. He did not like to think that he had been used to score a point or that that look had been only for that purpose, but—it was certainly true he had so much rather be beckoned by Elizabeth than clutched at by Miss Bingley.
Elizabeth, feeling all the necessity of fulfilling the promise in her look, turned to him with a charming smile and said in a lowered voice, “Will you always oblige me so quickly, sir? I certainly hope you shall not go with such alacrity to every young woman who smiles at you!”
The pleasure of having her flirt with him decided his mind. At least she was laying claim to him, he thought cheerfully. “I can safely say, madam, that your smiles alone have the power to command me.”
“You should not say so, lest I be tempted to try my power.”
“I believe you just did, did you not?” he asked drily.
Elizabeth had the grace to blush. She bit her lip and looked away, but when she looked back, she saw that he was regarding her with distinct amusement, and let out a rippling laugh. “If you wish to return to Miss Bingley’s side pray do so,” she said softly.
“You know very well I have no such inclination. But I may find it necessary to exact a fine from you for using my weakness for your eyes in such a way.”
Now she blushed again, this time at his frankness, and pursed her lips. “I cannot imagine anything you could demand from me that you do not already have.”
“Can you not?” He lifted his eyebrow cryptically.
“No, I can’t!” she retorted. “Name your fine. I am not afraid.”
He suppressed a smile. “Well, the fine I really wish to exact would perhaps not be appropriate for the occasion,” he admitted, enjoying her still further blush, “so I shall settle instead for conversation.”
“Ah, that is a fine I am well qualified to pay. What did you wish me to talk of, pray?”
“Anything you desire.”
“What, even bonnets and lace?”
“I am sure even such mundane topics would receive a charming treatment at your hands,” he replied gallantly. She laughed and shook her head.
This entire flirtatious exchange, although carried out quietly, had been observed with jealous dissatisfaction by Miss Bingley and greedy interest by the rest of the room. Finally, Mr. Wade made bold enough to approach the pair. “Miss Bennet, greetings again,” he said. “Mr. Darcy, it is some time since I have had the honor of speaking with you.”
Darcy nodded coolly, not bothering to stand. “Mr. Wade.”
The gentleman stood awkwardly. “I would be happy to fetch you a fresh cup of tea if you desire it, Miss Bennet.”
“Thank you, sir, I am quite content.”
“Actually,” he looked around, but there wasn’t another seat immediately near, “I was hoping to carry on the discussion we were having during dinner, on the relative merits of private versus public balls.”
“I cannot imagine there is much to be said upon such a topic,” said Darcy.
“On the contrary, Miss Bennet became quite animated when we spoke of it.”
“Miss Bennet is often animated.” His expression was as imperturbable as ever, but there was a steely glint in his eye, and his voice was not encouraging.
Once again Elizabeth felt like either laughing or screaming. Good heavens—he was jealous! How absurd! Casting her betrothed a repressive glance, she told Mr. Wade civilly, “I’m afraid Mr. Darcy is correct. I have quite exhausted my store of observations on the subject and fear anything else I might say could only be commonplace and dull.”
“Quite impossible, I am sure,” he insisted gallantly.
Perhaps fortunately, the musical portion of the evening commenced, and he was forced to seek a seat elsewhere. Elizabeth listened with some attention, curious to see how London ladies would perform. On the whole she was not terribly impressed; there seemed more elegance than talent present. Miss Bingley had the misfortune to follow the one lady who truly did play with magnificently; she recruited Mrs. Hurst in a desperate bid to elevate her performance, and they sang some Italian duets that Elizabeth remembered from evenings at Netherfield. They sang well, and Miss Bingley played well, and although they could not truly compare to the brilliance that had gone before, the applause was genuine when they finished.
Their hostess rose. “To close our evening, I have prevailed upon Miss Elizabeth Bennet to favor us. I, for one, am quite anxious to hear her, as I understand this is her first time to perform in a London drawing room.” She looked to Elizabeth for confirmation.
“You are quite correct, ma’am,” she replied calmly, though feeling the gaze of the room rather acutely.
Mr. Darcy look
ed a little surprised but also rather pleased, and when Elizabeth stood he not only stood with her but actually escorted her across the room to the piano, handed her to the seat, and quietly inquired if she needed someone to turn pages for her. This possessive display made many pairs of eyes widen in amazement, and Miss Bingley’s mouth tighten. Had Elizabeth been a lesser woman, she would surely have faltered then, under such scrutiny, but it was not for nothing that she was the beloved of Pemberley’s master. Her courage, as she had once prophesied to him, rose immediately to the challenge.
Darcy, watching her, thought he had never seen her appear to better advantage. She looked every inch the lady, even in her simple gown, with his pearls around her neck, her eyes lustrous in the candlelight, her hands moving lightly over the keys, and her sweet voice taking on an added richness. She was magnificent, really, in her presence and composure, her courage in the face of so many strangers and their curiosity. Standing there in a room full of his peers, Darcy felt at last truly proud of his choice of her, proud of the way that she alone seemed to stand out among the women there. They were so much alike, to his eyes, ladies pressed into a single mold by governesses and society; among them, Elizabeth glinted with wit and spirit, heart and sincerity. She was beautifully unique, his bride, far more than the sum of her family and connections, and she was his alone.
When the evening was over and their party preparing to leave, Mr. Darcy himself helped Elizabeth with her wrap. “I shall journey as early as I can Wednesday,” he promised in a low voice. “Will the afternoon be appropriate for a call on your father?”
“I am sure it will. Where will you be staying?”
“Bingley has offered me the use of Netherfield.” He smiled slightly. “So I shall be spared the inn’s sheets after all.”
“You may mock me, Mr. Darcy, but I am sure your sister would never forgive me if you were to return the worse for wear from a month’s worth of bad beds and poorly dressed dinners.”
“That would indeed be a long time to endure such tortures,” he replied gravely. “In that case I might be forced to marry you immediately to save my health.”
Elizabeth’s first thought of reply had to do with thanking Mr. Bingley for the reprieve, but she shut her mouth on it. Darcy, though, seemed almost to read her mind, and his lips twisted wryly. “Do not fear. Such a contingency is unlikely to befall you.”
She glanced away in confusion and felt him take her hand and kiss it quickly. She forced a smile. “We will see you Wednesday afternoon, then?”
“Wednesday afternoon,” he agreed. “I shall not fail you.”
Chapter Eight
The carriage ride back to Longbourn saw a deeply miserable Lizzy. As they left London, all her apprehension descended on her; what had she done? Dismally now she recalled that all of Meryton and its vicinities disliked her betrothed, her family especially. Even more dismally she recalled the vehemence with which she had criticized and laughed at Mr. Darcy the previous autumn. How much she wished she had been more moderate in her expressions, more discreet in her opinions! Would there be a person among them who would doubt that she accepted him only for his wealth? In her mind’s eye she could see her neighbors’ knowing looks and half-hidden smirks. No one would blame her, of course. They would think her uncommonly clever to have made such a match, even while they pitied her for her proud and unpleasant husband. Not one of them would understand her reasons for accepting him, even quite possibly her own father!
Concerning her father, she knew that she would be grieving him by her choice. She did not fear his opposition but that she, his favorite daughter, should cause him such disappointment by her choice of a husband! That alone was enough to make her wretched.
To add to all this were her terrible misgivings about carrying out a courtship around her family. The Gardiners had been so sensible and agreeable, and so discreet, that she had felt her credit with Darcy increasing the more time he spent with them. At Longbourn it would be the opposite. Neither Mr. Darcy nor her family liked or understood the other; how would he behave, forced to put up with their company on a day-to-day basis?
Worst of all, what if some of her own past words were to come to Darcy’s ears, even as his had to hers? After her indignation and his apologies—! For the first time she felt herself not much superior to him in manners. If he had spoken incautiously, so had she. She could only guess how pained or angry he would be to realize her former vocal dislike. Would her neighbors and her sisters be discreet? What humiliations lay in store?
With such unhappy thoughts Elizabeth occupied the hours of her trip. Jane could sense her sister’s melancholy mood and, although not understanding its reason fully, was able to guess enough to watch her sympathetically. The fair Jane had enough to occupy her own reflections, and they remained very quiet together until the stop where Lydia and Kitty appeared with the carriage to meet them. There, in criticizing Lydia’s purchases, laughing over Lydia’s carelessness, and depreciating Lydia’s speeches, solemnity was, for the time being, entirely abandoned. The rest of the ride was merry, if cramped, and all of Longbourn seemed to welcome them home. It was good to be home, if rather strange. How much had happened in Elizabeth’s two months away! How soon her life was to change again! It made her feel almost as if she no longer belonged there, as if she had detached herself from it already.
Jane could never be sorry to return to her family, but it was bittersweet for her as well. Both sisters covered their inward sighs with smiles, but they did sigh just the same.
When Mr. Bennet withdrew to his study after supper, Elizabeth followed him. He smiled when he saw her enter and motioned for her to take the chair opposite him. “Haven’t yet re-acclimated to the silliness of your sisters, eh?”
She could not be pleased by this speech, but she smiled at him. “I missed you while I was away.”
“I’m heartily glad I was not alone then. Longbourn was sadly without sense with both you and Jane gone. I hope you do not mean to leave me again anytime soon.”
She bit her lip. “Actually, that is why I am here. I have something I must tell you.”
His eyebrows rose. “Oh, really? Now, do not tell me you mean to follow the regiment to Brighton! I knew you were fond of Mr. Wickham, but I had not expected such excesses of attachment as that.”
She flushed. “I am not attached to Mr. Wickham, Papa. You should not say so. I have no interest in going to Brighton.” Her father just chuckled in response. “I have come to talk about quite another gentleman.”
“Oh ho! Another gentleman? Do not tell me you fell in love while you were in Kent!” He was a little alarmed now.
“No,” she owned, “I did not. But—” She looked down at her hands and back. “Do you remember Mr. Darcy?” she blurted.
“Darcy?” Her father relaxed and smiled. “That fellow? Aye, of course I remember him. I remember how much you hated him, too.”
As all of Meryton undoubtedly did. “Papa,” she began rather desperately, “I saw Mr. Darcy in Kent. Lady Catherine is his aunt, remember? He was visiting her, and we met often. He was not as disagreeable as before, and I have come to feel that I misjudged him unkindly.”
Mr. Bennet looked at her in astonishment. “You misjudged him unkindly, Lizzy? This is the man who said you were not handsome enough to dance with the first time he ever set eyes on you.”
“I know, Papa, and he has apologized for that. It is true that his behavior has not always been what it should, but I believe he is not truly an unpleasant man, just rather cold around strangers. In fact he can be very agreeable.”
Mr. Bennet studied her suspiciously. “Why this sudden interest in Mr. Darcy, my dear? What are you trying to say?”
She took a deep breath. “Sir, before he left Kent, Mr. Darcy made me an offer of marriage.”
There was a moment’s silence. “I see,” he said at last. “And was this defense of his character your way of telling me you have accepted him?”
Her face gave him the answer he ne
eded.
Mr. Bennet got to his feet and paced about the room in an agitated fashion. Elizabeth waited with a quailing heart. “Are you out of your senses, Lizzy?” he burst out eventually. “To accept a man like that? Oh, his being proud and disagreeable would be nothing if you really liked him, but, no matter what you say, I cannot believe it so.” He came back and took her hand. “Let me not have the grief of seeing you unable to respect your partner in life, my child. I know that you will be rich and grand, but will that make you happy? Will it be enough to compensate for that lack of regard and esteem which you, with your lively talents, would absolutely require in your marriage?”
Tears came to Elizabeth’s eyes; for a moment, she wavered in her resolution. But then she pressed his hand and said, “But I do have respect—esteem—for him. He is the kind of man that commands respect, I think. I do not love him, it’s true, but I do like him.” As she said the words, she felt their truth. “I like him, and I think he will treat me well. He loves me, although I do not know why. It pains me to grieve you, and I wish you, my dear father, to be happy in my decision. I did not make it lightly, I promise you. Mr. Darcy gave me more than a week to consider, and I did so most carefully. He has much to recommend him, truly he does.” She smiled a watery smile. “Even besides his wealth.”
Mr. Bennet turned away, trying to regain his composure. When he looked back, he forced a smile and said, “I had hoped not to lose you for many years yet; a selfish wish, I know.”
She stood up and embraced him. “You will never lose me! I should always wish to see you often, no matter how far away I lived.”
“Yes, but are you sure this is what you want? I know you, Lizzy; you could never be happy in a mere arrangement of convenience. You would come to despise any man who placed you in one. You would be neither respectable nor happy—you would scarcely escape discredit and misery.”
Elizabeth sighed. How could she possibly explain the complex series of thoughts that had led her to this decision? “Mr. Darcy is a sensible man, sir, and moreover, a clever one who is well able to keep up with my wit. He is a man of learning and education, and I have the greatest respect for his knowledge and information. I am acquainted with four of his closest relatives and his closest friend, all of whom think very highly of him. He is a very devoted brother. I have never seen anything that spoke of immoral or irreligious habits. And I am convinced that his feelings for me are of the warmest and most tender kind. I could not hope to ever receive another offer from any man with so much to offer.” She saw her father’s face had begun to lighten a bit, and added, as to clinch the matter, “He has even promised to take care of my mother and sisters if it is needed some day.”
Unequal Affections: A Pride and Prejudice Retelling Page 12