Chapter 4
STUDIER OF CHARACTER
That evening, the Hunsford party found themselves seated at the lavishly laden dinner table at Rosings once again.
Elizabeth could easily surmise that her ladyship took a great deal of pleasure in such gatherings and she imagined this occasion was but the second of many she might suffer during her visit.
Mr. Collins sat on Elizabeth’s right, and Miss de Bourgh sat on Elizabeth’s left.
The seating arrangement was far from ideal—what with her finding herself settled between an abundance of sycophantic ramblings on the one side and a drought of meaningful discourse on the other.
She could hardly complain, for it afforded a perfect opportunity for her to escape Lady Catherine’s intense scrutiny.
Unlike the first dinner, Elizabeth could enjoy this meal.
If she had but one complaint, it was that Mr. Darcy sat directly opposite her.
How ironic that she had actually wished for a similar circumstance the evening they first met.
How astounding that Elizabeth now discerned in Mr. Darcy’s countenance and deportment a startling resemblance to Lady Catherine.
This undeniable likeness was not a bad thing in and of itself.
If one were to strip away the thick layers of officiousness and haughtiness, no doubt one would find a woman who continues to enjoy her fair share of beauty.
Elizabeth’s busy mind veered to the last time she and Mr. Darcy were together.
Their parting earlier that afternoon had seen a resumption of silence after they exchanged heated words as well as an awkward farewell at the parsonage gate.
Cool civility marked their reunion that evening, which suited Elizabeth just fine.
After dinner, Lady Catherine, Mr. Collins, Charlotte, and Anne were playing whist. Lady Catherine had sought most unsuccessfully to commandeer Mr. Darcy, whom Elizabeth by now surmised was the favorite of her two nephews, to partner with her.
He declined, citing his intention to resume reading his book.
Accordingly, he took a seat by the fireplace apart from everyone else.
Elizabeth, finding herself the happy recipient of Colonel Fitzwilliam’s undivided attention, sat nearby a window with the gentleman.
The colonel said, “How are you enjoying your visit?”
“All things considered, I have no cause to repine.”
The colonel arched his brow. “All things considered, Miss Bennet?”
“You have met my cousin, sir.” With the ease of acquaintances of a long duration, Elizabeth and the colonel shared a knowing smile.
After silently chiding herself for engaging in a bit of fun at her relation’s expense and with a stranger no less, Elizabeth continued, “What I ought to have said is that I am enjoying a very lovely visit. Mrs. Collins and I have been intimate friends for so long as I can recall. Her family’s home is very near my own.
I cannot ask for better company than hers. ”
“I should hope that you find your immediate company just as pleasurable,” he uttered for her ears alone, leaning a bit closer than he had been before.
“You’re impertinent,” Elizabeth replied, feigning offense.
The colonel straightened himself in his seat. “My intentions are entirely honorable; I assure you.”
Elizabeth felt the color spread all over her body. She hastily responded. “I might as well inquire as to how well you are enjoying your visit, sir. We both find ourselves beholden to the generosity of others for the foreseeable future, do we not?”
“Indeed, we are. In response to your question, I would have to say that I tend to find immense pleasure wherever the road takes me.”
“That is precisely the sort of reply I expected from you,” she said, smiling.
“Is that so, Miss Bennet? You and I have only been in company twice, including this evening, and already you think you know me so well.”
“I congratulate myself on being a fair studier of character.”
“I am pleased to know that you consider me worthy of study,” he responded, his brow arched.
What an unabashed flirt! Elizabeth surmised she was going to like the colonel very much.
In a manner befitting the moment, she said, “You, this room, the prospect from the window overlooking Lady Catherine’s gardens—” Here she paused and threw a furtive gaze to the part of the room where Mr. Darcy sat.
No longer was he attending his book. He was looking intently at her.
Returning her attention to her companion, Elizabeth continued, “There is no lack of subjects worthy of study.”
The colonel placed his clutched hands on his heart. “You wound me, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth laughed a little. “I suspect any pain I may have inflicted will be of a short duration.”
“Who among us knows me better than you?”
Barely glancing up from her game, Lady Catherine said, “I should be delighted if you would play something for us, Miss Bennet.”
Despite the hint of civility in her ladyship’s voice, Elizabeth recognized her edict for what it was. Silently begging the colonel’s pardon, Elizabeth stood and went over and sat down directly at the instrument. Colonel Fitzwilliam followed suit and pulled up a chair near her.
She had not been playing very long before Mr. Darcy, having given up the pretense of reading a while ago, put down his book, made his way to the pianoforte, and stationed himself so as to command a perfect view of Elizabeth’s countenance.
Elizabeth waited until the first convenient pause and then turned to him with an arched smile.
“What valuable advice do you mean to convey this evening, Mr. Darcy? Perhaps you have observed something in my technique that is wanting, and you feel you would be remiss should you fail to point it out to me.”
“I will not argue with you, Miss Bennet.”
Upon hearing this, the colonel said, “I would say that is a wise decision on your part, Cousin. I fear you may not emerge the victor. Miss Bennet has a way with her words.”
“Is that so?” Darcy replied to his cousin. His eyes remained trained on Elizabeth’s. He said, “I am not afraid of you.”
Elizabeth purposely ignored his retort. Colonel Fitzwilliam said, “You ought to be. Miss Bennet has a passion for studying people’s character, identifying their weakness, and using it to her best advantage when one least expects it. I speak from experience.”
Responding to his cousin, but still looking at Elizabeth, Darcy said, “Do you not consider that the young lady enjoys professing opinions that are not entirely her own for purposes known only to herself?”
Elizabeth could not let this latest remark pass completely unchallenged. Speaking to the colonel, she said, “It now seems that your cousin presumes to know me and on the basis of so short an acquaintance as ours no less.”
“Perhaps my cousin fancies himself a fair studier of character too. It seems the two of you have much in common. What say you, Darcy?”
“I believe such a talent—in order to be truly worthy of boasting—would require moving about in far broader circles. From what I know of small country society, there cannot have been many opportunities for Miss Bennet to perfect such a craft. Country society can be rather less varying.”
Elizabeth was sorely tempted to put forth a defense of the country society of Meryton that the gentleman had practically ridiculed, but boasting of dining regularly with four and twenty families was woefully insufficient for this particular challenge.
Instead, she said, “You, sir, posit that the breadth of one’s circle is an adequate measure of one’s understanding of human nature.
I do not share your views on the matter.
You will find the same composition of sensibilities among societies both large and small.
People will be people wherever they are.
” She looked directly into his eyes. “Now hate me if you dare.”
Before Darcy could fashion a response, Lady Catherine, having drawn closer to the instrument, said, “Miss Bennet gives her opinions rather fondly for someone her age.” All heads turned towards the elderly woman.
Her ladyship continued, “When I was your age, young lady, I was married and mistress of my own home.” She waved her walking stick about with a flourish.
“Mistress of all of this. Mind you, I am not suggesting that your prospects are so superior as mine were, what with my excellent father being the former Earl of Matlock, but you would do well to hold your tongue until you can boast in the same way as other married women of your sphere—someone much like Mrs. Collins over there.”
Neither Darcy nor Elizabeth replied to Lady Catherine’s admonishment.
Darcy knew enough about Elizabeth to discern that she did not appreciate the advice, however well-meaning.
In this case, his aunt had been outright officious.
For his part, he was not at all apt to agree with his noble relation.
He found such stimulating intercourse with Elizabeth refreshing.
If only she were not so far beneath me in consequence, he pondered. If only.
That next afternoon, Elizabeth and Charlotte sat in the parlor.
The former read her book, and the latter attended her sewing.
Seeing that her friend’s whole heart was not in the pages before her, judging by the manner in which Elizabeth’s eyes continued to drift towards the window, Charlotte said, “Mr. Darcy seems quite taken with you.”
“It is true that he feels a certain obligation towards seeing to my safe arrival to the parsonage after I practice at Rosings, but I cannot excuse his uncharitable remarks at my expense to his cousin.”
Hardly any time at all had passed after Elizabeth had overheard Mr. Darcy’s insult before she told her friend.
Charlotte had sought some explanation for Elizabeth’s dampened enthusiasm upon her return to the parlor, and Elizabeth had been in desperate want of someone in whom she could at once confide her wounded feelings and, likewise, assuage her mortified pride with a show of laughter, even if a bit repressed.
Her wont to laugh at the ridiculousness of others was a favorite pastime of Elizabeth’s, which was a very good thing indeed and especially that first evening at Rosings, else she would never have suffered Mr. Darcy’s company so easily as she had when he and his cousin rejoined the ladies in the parlor.
“Now surely you cannot hold that against him still. His actions have completely belied his words, have they not? That is to say nothing of the manner in which he looks at you when he believes he is unobserved.”
Elizabeth nodded. “It is true; the gentleman does stare at me. But I am given to suspect his purpose in doing so is merely to find fault.”
“Let us not pretend that you do not do a fair amount of staring at him as well,” Charlotte teased.
Elizabeth laughed a little at this picture of herself. “Surely you cannot fault me for doing so,” she responded in kind. “You’ve seen the gentleman!” If only his character was as pleasing as his looks, she silently considered.
“Indeed. I hope you do not mind my saying this, but your Mr. Wickham is nothing at all to your Mr. Darcy.”
“Oh, Charlotte! I have no claims to either of the two gentlemen; I assure you.” Certainly not Mr. Wickham, Elizabeth thought, for no doubt he had found another young woman in Brighton upon whom he now bestowed his charms. Good for him. I can think of no one who is more deserving of happiness.
As for Mr. Darcy, Miss de Bourgh is more than welcome to him.
Elizabeth knew just enough about that young woman to suspect that she was cut from the same cloth as Lady Catherine, despite the former’s quiet reserve as well as the complete absence of any physical resemblance between the two.
Such being the case, Elizabeth felt that the cousins actually deserved each other.
Charlotte’s enthusiasm on her friend’s behalf would not be so easily curbed. “Oh, but you might,” she continued. “If I know anything at all about men, I am certain Mr. Darcy is half in love with you already.”
“And I say that such a notion is too absurd to warrant further discussion. You told me yourself that the gentleman is engaged to his cousin, did you not?”
“And so he is, were one to rely solely upon Lady Catherine’s testimony.
But having had the chance to observe the gentleman in company of late, I would say he and his aunt cannot possibly be of the same mind.
” She shook her head. “No, indeed. There is but one woman, as best I can tell, who has Mr. Darcy in her power, and her name is most certainly not Miss Anne de Bourgh.”