Chapter 1 #3
Elizabeth sat on her usual chair and clasped her hands in her lap.
The events of the ball were so entirely beyond her previous experience that she hardly knew where to begin.
She had been angry with Mr. Darcy, provoking him with taunts about his taciturn disposition and his mistreatment of others.
He had been justly offended when she mentioned Mr. Wickham, but he had remained a gentleman.
She could not say she had behaved as a lady. Her cheeks warmed at the memory.
She had followed Mr. Darcy from the ballroom.
Never had she done anything so entirely improper, but he had raised her ire to such an extent that she had not realized where she was until they were quarreling in the hall.
Yet that was not the end. She had refused to allow him to quit the field of battle without answering her question.
She could not blame herself for that—it had been an entirely reasonable inquiry.
Still, to have stalked into the library after him!
It was only that she had been so very angry at his rudeness in walking away without even declining her request for information.
She had been determined to finish their conversation no matter Mr. Darcy’s sentiments on the matter, and she had been justly served by landing herself in the center of a scandal.
Her father cleared his throat. “Lizzy?” he inquired. “Are you well? You are not usually one to have trouble forming your thoughts.”
She related the story in full and watched Papa’s expression transform from idle curiosity to deep concern.
“I was entirely mistaken about Mr. Darcy,” she concluded, embarrassed.
“As a consequence, I have also been very wrong about Mr. Wickham.” She lifted her shoulders slightly and let them fall.
“And I must say that Mr. Bingley’s behavior is appalling.
I would never have thought it possible.” Even Miss Bingley’s actions had shocked her, though she had never believed the woman to be of sterling character.
“Do not berate yourself, Lizzy,” Papa said drily as he reached for a cigar. He cut the end, lit it, and sat back in his chair. “Mr. Darcy was clearly taken unawares, and he has known Mr. Bingley longer than we have.”
“There was a man watching Mr. Bingley in the ballroom, after. I believe he was anticipating an announcement of some sort,” Elizabeth mused.
How many people had been involved in trapping Mr. Darcy into a marriage he did not desire?
What a blow it must have been—she had not been able to see Mr. Darcy’s face when Mr. Bingley accused him, but the way his shoulders had suddenly sagged when he discovered his friend’s duplicity would stay with her always.
Papa puffed his cigar, and she waved the smoke away as she considered his words.
Mr. Bingley had been at Netherfield for two months.
Jane felt she knew Mr. Bingley, but it was not really a great deal of time.
Even when Jane had been ill at Netherfield, she had not been able to spend much time in his company.
Elizabeth had spent a good deal more time with Mr. Darcy, come to that.
“We do not know Mr. Darcy any better, but in light of what you have said, I suspect this is not the first time he has been imposed upon.”
“Indeed,” Elizabeth replied, startled back to the conversation. “I believe you are correct.” It would explain a great deal of Mr. Darcy’s aloof behavior, in fact. He was protecting himself. What a fool she had been.
“I am afraid you must restrain your temper much better in future, my dear,” Papa said seriously. “Had Mr. Darcy not behaved as a gentleman, your reputation might now be at risk.”
“I shall, Papa.” Elizabeth hoped either Mr. Bingley’s interest in Jane or his concern for Miss Bingley’s reputation would prevent him from spreading any rumors about her. She could not expect that his honor would compel it.
“Mr. Darcy was intemperate in his insult, of course,” Papa continued. “However, as you say, he did ask you to dance tonight before all of this nonsense occurred. Surely that must alleviate the sting somewhat.”
Elizabeth did not add that she had previously turned Mr. Darcy away twice before.
She had not believed those offers sincere until he had asked her to dance again at Mr. Bingley’s ball.
“Not only that,” she confessed, “I accepted Mr. Wickham’s lies because my vanity was injured and the lieutenant tells a pretty story.
” She sighed. “I am quite ashamed of myself.”
Her father stared off into the dark. “It is as much my responsibility as yours,” he said. “I should have better acquainted myself with all the gentlemen in question before allowing them to visit Longbourn and dally with my daughters.”
“Mr. Darcy,” she replied archly, “has never visited Longbourn, and I believe I can safely say he would not stoop to dally with any of your daughters.”
“Ah, I suppose all the talk of him in our sitting room fooled me into believing that he had,” Papa said wryly.
Elizabeth sighed softly. She had always prided herself on her discernment, and yet she felt entirely mistaken in all three men.
Perhaps it was only that she had known the people of Meryton long enough to understand them.
Perhaps she was not such an excellent judge of new characters after all. She said as much to her father.
“Untrue,” he replied. “You possess great insight for one so young. I have seen it.” He gazed at her thoughtfully. “Perhaps all you lack is patience. First impressions are nearly always incomplete.”
They sat in silence for a minute or two. “Will you tell Jane?” Elizabeth asked. “Mr. Bingley had no compunction in slandering me when I stood in the way of his plan. I fear for her.”
Papa released a breath and a cloud of smoke at the same time. “If his primary reason for being here was to ensnare Mr. Darcy for his sister, I should think they will shortly decamp to London. There can be no call to . . .”
“Papa,” Elizabeth said warningly. “If you will not, I must. Sir William might as well—he mentioned the expectations of our neighbors tonight. Everyone already believes Mr. Bingley will propose.” She paused, then said quietly, “Jane cannot be left ignorant. I did interfere with their plans. The Bingleys might seek to punish me through her.”
“Would they go so far, Lizzy?” Papa asked dubiously, raising one eyebrow.
“Given what I witnessed tonight,” Elizabeth said stoutly, recalling Mr. Bingley’s denial and Miss Bingley’s accusations, “I must say they would.”
Her father drew on the cigar and exhaled the smoke away from her, towards the window. He nodded. “Very well. I will speak with Jane, and if Mr. Bingley shows his face at Longbourn, I shall speak with him as well.”
Elizabeth sighed, relieved. “Thank you, Papa.” She waited expectantly.
“Yes, yes,” Papa said brusquely. “And I shall include Mr. Wickham in my censure. Better to have it all done at once so the duration of the storm will be lessened, if not its strength. Go to bed now, child, and leave me to my thoughts.”