Chapter 17 #2
Miss Bennet made some attempts at conversation with Anne, which were met with short uninviting answers.
Like Darcy, Anne did not perform well to strangers and became particularly terse when in the presence of her domineering mother.
Inquiries into her health were met with, “Very well, thank you,” and questions regarding her activities over the past week were answered in similar abbreviated sentences.
Poor Anne. If she could overcome her awkwardness, Miss Bennet might enjoy hearing of her new watercolour or the school she was hoping to establish for the village children.
But Anne said little, despite Miss Bennet’s efforts.
After listening for a while to these abortive attempts, Richard inserted himself into the exchange.
“I have enjoyed our conversations this week, Miss Bennet,” he began. Immediately her face grew more animated. “Your friend Mrs Collins runs a smart house, and I have been delighted to be a frequent visitor.”
“Your presence has both pleased and honoured us.” She flashed a grin at him that would have many men on their knees. “It is always a delight to have such charming company in the mornings.”
“Do you entertain a great many families at your home, Miss Bennet? I imagine your house as always filled with company and conversation, if all your family are as welcoming as you.”
She laughed again. “My mother boasts that we entertain a full four-and-twenty families from our neighbourhood. In reality, our most frequent guests are from less than ten of these families. Lady Lucas—Mrs Collins’ mother—comes by every day that my mother does not visit her, and my aunts are frequent visitors.
But our circles are not nearly as wide as yours, I am certain. ”
Now it was Richard’s turn to laugh. “If my own mother had her druthers, we would see a different family every day of the year. Of course, we enjoy much wider society when we are in London than when we are at our seat in Derbyshire. There, the neighbourhood of suitable families is much smaller, although of excellent quality.”
“Do you prefer being at Matlock to London then, Colonel?” She leaned forward, eyes wide, presenting a pretty picture. By now, Anne had been all but forgotten.
“I enjoy both for their relative advantages. But one does sometimes tire of the same company every day.” That was not quite true, he collected.
In all the time he had been in Bermuda, he had not once tired of Emily’s company.
But that was not a topic he would raise with Miss Bennet.
“London is a great remedy for those who enjoy novelty.” He paused. “Do you spend much time in London?”
“Not as much as some, for we do not have a house in Town. I do have relations in London, however, and frequently spend several weeks with them, which are a constant source of enjoyment. There is always something new to visit or see, whether it be an exhibit or a concert, or a visit to Vauxhall or the circus. I am curious and thrill to new adventures.”
This led to a discussion of the relative merits of travelling and staying at home, and of the parts of England each had visited.
Richard had been through much of the country, and up into Scotland to Darcy’s hunting lodge in the heat of the summers, whilst Miss Bennet’s ramblings had kept her closer to home.
“My aunt and uncle,” she now said, “talk of a holiday in the Lake District this summer, and I might accompany them. I hope it does happen, for I should love to see that part of England.”
She paused as Darcy moved to a chair just across from them. He nodded politely although his face remained stony, and Miss Bennet responded with a tight smile.
“I do enjoy reading about the world, however,” she added at last. “What I cannot see for myself, I can experience through writing. My uncle has the fortune of having access to a great number of books, which he sometimes sends to me.”
They talked then of literature, and which great works each had read, which led to a discussion of music.
Darcy leaned forward as this latter topic was begun.
He was, Richard knew, something of a musician himself, and Georgiana was a very fine performer at the pianoforte.
Darcy was always keen to find some new music with which to delight his sister, which must explain his interest now.
The conversation was so enjoyable and animated that Richard was taken quite aback by his aunt’s strident inquiry, “What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is.”
He sighed. He had enjoyed his few minutes of companionable conversation, and now he must entertain his aunt. She reiterated her query when he did not respond at once.
“We are speaking of music, madam.”
“Of music!” She proclaimed these words as if she had invented the subject. “Then pray speak aloud! It is of all subjects my delight. I must have my share of the conversation.” And on she went, proclaiming her great passion for the art which she had never taken the time to learn.
Darcy began to shift in his seat. Aunt Catherine’s shrewd eye swung to him. Anne was sitting silently on her sofa, and Richard was certain that his aunt wished to draw Darcy into conversation for Anne’s amusement. “How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?”
Now a glimmer of light illuminated his taciturn cousin’s eye.
“She does very well, madam. She has begun to work with a new music master and writes to me often of the strides she is taking with her instrument. I have purchased a new pianoforte to be sent to Pemberley as a birthday present for her; I hope it will arrive before the end of the summer.”
“That is very well,” his aunt continued.
“It is a fine thing that a young lady should be accomplished in music and play the pianoforte and sing. I am certain that your sister applies herself with all due effort to her instrument, as my niece ought to do. It is the mark of a fine lady that she should perform with skill and please all ears. If only my Anne were stronger, she would be a most exceptional musician.” She took a breath, ensured that all eyes were on her, and then added, with a pointed look at the lady, “I have told Miss Bennet several times that she will never play really well unless she practices more.”
Richard groaned. His aunt could display a marked lack of discretion on occasion.
Often. The older woman did not rest here, however, but continued.
“Although Mrs Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome to come to Rosings every day and play on the pianoforte in Mrs Jenkins’ room.
She will be in nobody’s way, you know, in that part of the house. ”
Oh God! This was worse still. Not only had she disparaged a guest in her own home, she was also both lowering Miss Bennet to the status of a servant and importuning Anne’s companion in a single breath.
Surely, not even the family Darcy had disdained in Hertfordshire was so impolite as to voice such things.
Indeed, despite his accustomed air of superiority, Darcy had the grace to look ashamed of his aunt’s ill-breeding, although he said nothing to counter her.
His aunt, however, carried on without the first glimmer of shame. “But here is the dinner bell. Let us dine. Perhaps after we eat, Miss Bennet will amuse us on the keyboard. Fitzwilliam, you may lead me in. Darcy, take Anne’s arm. Let us adjourn.”
Dinner was long and tedious. Richard had been seated between his aunt and Anne, with no opportunity to converse with Miss Bennet or even the sensible Mrs Collins.
At last, the meal was over, and the ladies rose to leave the men to their port and cigars, but Darcy seemed eager to join them.
Richard echoed that sentiment. If Mr Collins felt otherwise, he dared not say anything in the presence of the nephews of the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and he followed them back to the parlour without a complaint.
Wasting no time after their return, Aunt Catherine reminded Miss Bennet at once of her promise to play for them. Miss Bennet opened her mouth to refuse, but Darcy, quite unexpectedly, spoke up.
“I would enjoy hearing you, Miss Bennet.” He took a seat directly facing the pianoforte and assumed a posture of great anticipation. Miss Bennet looked first to her friend, and then to Richard, for support.
“Yes, indeed,” Richard echoed his aunt and cousin.
“I should be delighted to hear you. I have some education in the area and read music. Allow me to turn the pages. What shall we hear? My aunt has a good selection from which to choose.” He rose and offered his arm to lead her to the keyboard at the far end of the room.
Miss Bennet played far better than his aunt had led him to expect, and he was greatly enjoying her performance of some Scotch folk songs when Darcy rose from his chair and ambled over.
She glanced up to see him and was so surprised that she missed a note.
Richard saw her gasp and look down at her fingers to correct the fingering before the error became apparent to all.
She played through the rest of the piece with a rather stiff manner, seemingly not happy with the new addition to their little group.
He must get at the seed of such animosity!
He felt like an old woman, so anxious was he for the gossip.
At the end of the piece Miss Bennet schooled her features and looked up at his cousin.
“You mean to frighten me, Mr Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? But I will not be alarmed though your sister does play so well.” Was this the cause of her agitation?
Her next words seemed to belie this. “There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me.”
And to Richard’s great surprise, his cousin answered in a like tone.
His words were teasing, almost flirtatious.
Once more, Richard wondered if he had it wrong, and if Miss Bennet were indeed the lady whom Darcy had so admired in Hertfordshire.
If only she were not so clearly displeased by his presence.
Still, he felt again that the two might suit with enough time for each to grow to know the other, and he decided to press for more knowledge.
Miss Bennet unwittingly obliged him. “Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of me and teach you not to believe a word I say.” She spoke on, then added, “Indeed, Mr Darcy, it is very ungenerous in you to mention all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire—and give me leave to say, very impolitic too—for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such things may come out as will shock your relatives to hear.”
“Do tell, Miss Bennet!” Richard found it hard to control his laughter. “What on earth did my cousin do? I shall echo my dear aunt and insist you tell me all! Do say, Miss Bennet, pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of. I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.”
This was, indeed, a most pertinent question. He knew how stern and foreboding Darcy could be to those whom he did not know well, but he had never had such an account from another’s lips. He settled back into his chair to hear the answer.
There came another laugh from Miss Bennet, but it was not all mirth. “You shall hear then—but prepare yourself for something very dreadful.”
How terrible had Darcy been? What insults had he thrown about his company?
Miss Bennet relieved his curiosity at once.
Darcy, it seemed, had first met the local society in that part of Hertfordshire at a dance, but had only danced four dances—and these only with Bingley’s sisters—despite there being many young ladies without partners.
Darcy protested. “I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party.” He crossed his arms over his chest as if having delivered the final statement at a parliamentary debate. But Miss Bennet was quicker.
“And nobody can ever be introduced in a ballroom.” She turned her dark eyes to Richard with a triumphant smile.
Once more Darcy demurred. He was not, he declared, well qualified to recommend himself to strangers.
Richard could no longer stifle his chuckles, and Darcy sent him a fierce scowl.
What was Darcy up to, trying to excuse his appalling behaviour to this young woman whose opinion he was seemingly trying to win?
Was this his young lady after all? Did he only imagine that she had enjoyed their debates?
He must pry on the morrow, when he had his cousin’s attention and no witnesses.
In the meantime, he would see what else he could learn from Miss Bennet. He sat back to watch. This was as entertaining as anything at the theatre.
“Shall we ask the colonel why a man of education and sense, and who has lived in the world, is ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?” She spoke directly to Darcy, with a look that could be either scorn or amusement in her fine eyes.
There must be more to the story than Darcy not asking young ladies to dance. What had he done to Miss Bennet?
When Miss Bennet turned to him, Richard replied with a serious face. “I can answer your question without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.”
Was this truly Darcy’s situation? Was he just too aloof to bother to make himself appealing?
It was true that Darcy could be exceedingly shy, although a solid education ought to have given him some skills in initiating conversation.
Among the right circles, he would, and could, make the effort.
It was more likely that he had simply looked down his patrician nose at the gathered company at the assembly and decided without second thought that they were not worth the exertion.
Darcy protested, Miss Bennet insisted, and they bantered back and forth for a while until Aunt Catherine raised herself from her throne and came to inquire once more what they were talking of. The entertainment was now over, alas.
Darcy returned to his seat by Anne, and Miss Bennet answered by reapplying herself to the keyboard, where she played until the carriage was called to take her party back home.