Chapter 13 #2
When absolutely no one in the room made a reply, she tossed aside her book and cast her eyes about the room in her search for amusement.
She stood and waltzed across the floor. Despite her elegant figure, her fashionable satin gown, and her graceful air, she failed once again to garner Mr. Darcy’s attention, which was no doubt her primary aim.
Not once did he tear his eyes away from his book.
Sensing a different approach was warranted, Miss Bingley drifted over to where Elizabeth sat. “Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is wonderfully refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude.”
Although surprised that Miss Bingley would single her out when she might just as easily have prevailed on her sister, Elizabeth immediately agreed to the request. Miss Bingley’s self-satisfied expression attested to her triumph for not only did Mr. Darcy look up, but he also closed his book.
Assuming an entirely different attitude, he crossed one long leg over the other and proceeded to gaze at the two ladies.
“Would you care to join us, Mr. Darcy?” Miss Bingley asked.
“I think not.” He replied before further remarking he could imagine but two motives for their choosing to walk up and down the room together, with either of which motives his joining them would interfere.
She laughed coquettishly. “Whatever can the gentleman mean in suggesting such a thing, Miss Eliza?”
Not wishing to be a party in whatever game the lady was playing with the gentleman, Elizabeth said nothing at all.
“Your silence on this matter simply will not do.”
“Surely as intimate as you are with the gentleman, you will have no hesitation in appealing to him directly,” Elizabeth responded.
“On behalf of Miss Eliza as well as myself, I insist you elaborate further on our supposed motives, sir.”
“Indeed. You either chose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other’s confidence, and you have secret affairs to discuss, or you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking.
If the first, I would be completely in your way, and if the second, I can admire you much better from here. ”
“How shocking!” cried Miss Bingley. “I never heard anything so abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?”
“Tease him. Laugh at him.” Elizabeth shrugged. “Again, as intimate as the two of you are, you must know how it is to be done.”
Aghast, the young lady said, “If you suppose that laughing at Mr. Darcy is the best thing to do, then you do not know him so well as I had suspected.”
“Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at!” cried Elizabeth. “I truly hope you are speaking in jest, for it would pain me deeply to suffer such an acquaintance. I dearly love a laugh.”
“It appears, Mr. Darcy, that Miss Eliza has identified what she perceives as a defect in your character—one that renders you wanting.”
“I am afraid you have attributed sentiments to me that are wanting. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. However, I hope I never ridicule what is wise and good.”
The gentleman regarded Elizabeth intently—as though she was the only person in the room.
“There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil—a natural defect which not even the best education can overcome. My own defect is not that I am not to be laughed at, but rather my inability to forgive someone who has used me poorly. My good opinion once lost, is lost forever.”
“You have chosen your defect wisely, sir.”
He approached her directly. His eyes pored over her from head to toe.
“And now it is your turn. Pray, what is your defect, Miss Elizabeth?” he inquired.
“I dearly hope it is not a willingness to misunderstand, for I should hate to find myself in the unenviable position of having garnered the disapprobation of a young lady of your discerning taste.”
Fearing every eye in the room was trained on the two of them, it was Elizabeth’s turn to be amazed by the gentleman’s speech, for what could be his purpose in declaring such a bold assertion in front of the entire party?
“Shall I play something for you, Mr. Darcy?” Miss Bingley intervened, no doubt, tired of a conversation in which she had no share. “Louisa, you will not mind my waking Mr. Hurst?”
“I shall not put forth the smallest of objection. A little music is exactly what this evening lacks,” replied Mrs. Hurst, standing and crossing the room. “In fact, I should like very much to accompany you.” With that, Miss Bingley sashayed away, and the instrument was opened.
Whatever was Fitzwilliam Darcy’s opinion on the deliberate diversion on the part of Miss Bingley, Elizabeth could not say.
As for her own sentiments, she was not sorry for it, for she did not only see but she also felt, deep inside of her, the danger of teasing such a man, especially while in the company of others.