Chapter 23 #2
“What on Earth has you so distracted?”
“I have been meditating on the very great pleasure that a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.”
Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on Darcy’s face. “Pray which lady among us has the credit of inspiring such reflections?”
“My former dance partner and the only woman of my acquaintance whom I ever wish to dance with again. Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet!” Miss Bingley repeated. “I am all astonishment. Surely you could not have known her very long. When, in so fleeting an acquaintance as the two of yours, did she become such a favorite? And when, pray tell, am I to wish you joy?”
That was exactly the sort of question that Darcy had expected Bingley’s younger sister to ask, but he would not gratify her wishes with a response. Besides, the young lady will have her answer soon enough.
Such being the case, Darcy said nothing.
Instead he went on listening to her with perfect indifference while she chose to entertain herself in this manner.
As his composure convinced her that all was safe, her wit flowed long.
Darcy only had one thing on his mind; that being his next set with Elizabeth.
Through the course of the evening, Jane and Elizabeth stole away from the others in their party and went outside for a breath of fresh air. Elizabeth could not recall the last time she had seen her sister so happy—so animated. The two young ladies joined hands and gave in to a bout of laughter.
“Dearest Jane, I think Mr. Bingley likes you very much.”
“Oh, Lizzy, do you really think so?”
Elizabeth chuckled. “Indeed, as does everyone else at the assembly, I am certain. Pray what do you think of him? Do you like him?”
As if not wishing to be too eager in her praise of the young man, Jane replied whimsically, “What is there not to like? He is sensible and good-humored. He is lively, and I never saw such happy manners. Mr. Bingley is just what a young man ought to be.”
“That is to say nothing of his handsome looks, which a gentleman also ought to possess so far as it can be arranged. So, there. You have my permission to like him.”
“Lizzy, be serious. A handsome face means nothing at all if there are carefully concealed flaws in one’s character—a lesson that we have learned most painfully.”
With the Wickhams so far away and seldom thought about as a consequence, Elizabeth pleaded, “Pray let us not speak of such misfortunes at such a time as this.”
“Very well. Too much happiness abounds this evening. Your Mr. Darcy is an excellent dance partner.”
“Jane, he is not my Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said, not unaware that she had put forth the same defense to her friend Charlotte months ago.
“Is he not?” Jane asked, her brow slightly arched. “You need not answer me, for if he is not now your Mr. Darcy, he will be very soon—that is to say unless there is no truth at all in the notion that to be fond of dancing is a certain step towards falling in love.”
Elizabeth smiled in silent acquiescence.
Indeed, she had long believed in such an idea as well, which must certainly have explained her disappointment in hearing Mr. Darcy express his displeasure in the endeavor earlier that evening.
Then again, he owed his distaste to not having danced with the right partner until now.
Did she dare allow herself to hope that perhaps he was in her power?
Not wanting to get ahead of herself, and thus wishing to change the subject, she said, “I saw you speaking to the Bingley sisters.”
“Indeed. Mr. Bingley was eager to introduce us, and I must say that I was very pleased to make their acquaintance.” Jane smiled in sincere earnest. “Oh, Lizzy, the two of them are such delightful creatures. They are very pleasing women when you converse with them. Miss Bingley is to live with her brother, and keep his house. I am certain it will be a pleasure having them as our neighbors.”
Elizabeth was in no way inclined to agree with her sister’s charitable assessment of their new neighbors, especially in light of the manner in which the younger sister purposely slighted her on the assembly floor earlier that evening. She gave her sister a look—one Jane instantly recognized.
“Why, how can they be otherwise with such a brother as Mr. Bingley?” Jane asked.
When it came to such matters of discerning people’s true characters, Elizabeth and her sister Jane were as different as night and day.
Jane was a great deal too apt to like people in general.
She never saw fault in anybody unless and until they proved themselves to be extremely bad as had been the case with George Wickham.
In the absence of such compelling evidence, all the world was good and agreeable in Jane’s eyes.
“I declare, Jane,” Elizabeth began, “your wont to be oblivious to the follies and nonsense of others amazes me! The youngest sister has spent the better part of the evening glaring at me as though she wishes I were dead. How fortunate I am that looks, even those heavily laced with disdain, do not kill.”
“And what do you expect? You have captured the fancy of one of the handsomest gentlemen in the room—the other being her own brother. No doubt, she did not expect to share Mr. Darcy’s attentions with another at such an assembly as this.”
Elizabeth gasped. It turned out that her sister was more astute than she had given her credit for being.
“Jane! That is the most unforgiving speech that I have ever had the pleasure of hearing you utter. Good girl! I shall have no cause at all to think that you will not hold your own quite well with Mr. Bingley’s pretentious sisters. ”