Chapter 7 #3
Elizabeth fell silent as soon as she heard Lord Keeble’s affable voice addressing them both and saw Mr Darcy look away deliberately at the same moment.
Had she been shouting at Mr Darcy?! His face looked red with emotion, despite the tight control of his answers to her, and Elizabeth felt her own cheeks burning too.
“…can I interest you in a game of charades on the upper lawns? We need a few more players yet to make the game worthwhile.”
“I should love to play,” Elizabeth agreed, thinking it best to remove herself from the present situation before she said anything she might later regret.
She hoped that the game would prove beneath Mr Darcy’s dignity. Certainly, he seemed far too proud to ever be playful. She was not disappointed in his response.
“Charades?!” Mr Darcy repeated, with an expression of distaste. “No, thank you, Keeble. I have seen enough charades in ordinary life of late to want any more of them.”
As Mr Darcy’s tall, dark figure stalked away from them, Lord Keeble laughed and offered Elizabeth his arm as she stared after the departing man.
“You must take no notice of Mr Darcy, Miss Elizabeth,” he told her, as good-humoured as ever.
“He has never been a man for fun and games, but he has virtues that make up for it in other ways.”
“So everyone keeps telling me,” Elizabeth murmured doubtfully, drawing another chuckle from Lord Keeble.
∞∞∞
Finding Charlotte Lucas alone again as the afternoon was drawing to a close, Elizabeth sighed with relief as she took her friend’s arm and walked with her through an open gate and into a slightly overgrown apple and pear orchard.
By throwing herself into charades and then further games with Lydia, Kitty, and other younger guests, Elizabeth had been able to distract her angry spirit for a while.
Still, she remained very conscious of a dark-haired figure silently glowering somewhere nearby in every direction she seemed to turn.
It seemed that her challenge to Mr Darcy had drawn some of his fire from Jane and onto herself.
Elizabeth supposed that she ought to see this as a partial success, but his attention had a strange effect on her, simultaneously needling her and making her want to go back and confront him all over again.
“I have had my fill of food, company and my mother’s matchmaking,” said Charlotte with a smile. “Poor Mr Bingley does not realise the extent of her ambitions.”
“Yes, it has been a fine day for a garden party, but I am glad it is almost over,” Elizabeth confessed. “I suspect that your mother will have to do battle with mine for the privilege of offering an unwilling daughter to the equally disinterested Mr Bingley.”
“Poor Mr Bingley,” Charlotte said again, amused, but also with real sympathy in her tone. “But before we come to him, how did you find Mr Darcy today? Has his character improved in daylight?”
“Not at all!” Elizabeth replied forcefully. “I do believe that I dislike him more than ever after today. It is an incurable case, I fear.”
But though Elizabeth then confided the outline of her encounter with Mr Darcy, and its equally infuriating and humiliating conclusion, Charlotte only laughed.
“Many might consider Mr Darcy’s fortune and good looks to mitigate any flaws in his character,” she offered, not seeming to take Elizabeth’s grievances very seriously at all, and becoming even more flippant in her own responses.
“For ten thousand pounds a year, I think I might quickly learn to tolerate a great deal of brooding and ill-temper in a husband.”
“Well, I would never excuse ill manners and deliberate rudeness on account of any fortune,” Elizabeth said firmly. “If Mr Darcy attempts to influence his friend away from Jane, on account only of his own prejudices, I shall not stand for it.”
“I told you that you were romantic, my dear Elizabeth,” Charlotte reminded her. “Even if you do not seek it for yourself, you want the fairy tale for Jane, don’t you?”
“Oh, I suppose I do,” Elizabeth admitted with a sigh.
“Yes, you are right. Jane is so sweet and kind, and yet so amenable and easily disheartened. I do want the best of everything for her, and I am determined that she should have it, in spite of herself. Anyway, I have given my report. Now it is your turn.”
“Lord Grantchester and Jane, you mean? I watched them carefully and find I can say nothing with any certainty. As you say, anything might be hiding behind Jane’s sweet reserve and Lord Grantchester’s perfect manners and social polish.
I cannot determine that they love one another, or that they do not.
I still do not think it really matters, however. ”
“On that, we must continue to differ,” Elizabeth responded. “I believe it would matter a great deal to Jane. Ah well, I suppose the year ahead must work everything out in its own way, even if you and I must be content with imperfect understanding for now.”
“My observations of Lord Grantchester and Jane did increase my understanding in one regard, however,” added Charlotte thoughtfully, after they had walked a little further.
“I am now quite certain of the feelings of at least one person at this garden party, and I wonder whether you have seen it too.”
“What did you notice?” enquired Elizabeth, hoping that neither Lydia nor Kitty had made too unseemly a display of their enthusiasm for Lord Keeble’s company.
“Charles Bingley only has eyes for Jane,” Charlotte said softly.
Biting her lip at the knowledge that such feelings could bring only pain, Elizabeth nodded in reply.