Chapter 8
When the unexpected guests entered the room, Jane’s eyes were immediately drawn to the gentleman she had never met before whose name turned out to be Mr. Masters. Since she was still hoping for Mr. Bingley’s return, all she saw at first was that he was not Mr. Bingley.
Disappointment rolled through her. Mr. Bingley had told her so earnestly, the day before the ball, that he was looking forward to seeing her again after his business in London was complete.
Yet, only two days later, she had received a note from his sister saying that they would all be in London for the foreseeable future.
Elizabeth declared that Miss Bingley must be lying in an attempt to keep Mr. Bingley away from her, but Jane could not believe that her friend would be capable of such manipulation.
Though it pained her a great deal, she had no choice but to believe that Mr. Bingley had simply changed his mind about her.
As Mr. Masters was introduced, Jane could not keep herself from comparing him to Mr. Bingley, not because he was similar, but rather because he seemed to be the complete opposite.
Where Mr. Bingley had blond hair and blue eyes, Mr. Masters had almost black hair and dark brown eyes.
Mr. Bingley had a round, almost boyish face, but Mr. Masters had a longer, more chiseled face.
As she began to chat with him, she noticed that even their way of speaking was different.
Mr. Bingley’s voice was a pleasant tenor, but Mr. Master spoke in a much lower register.
Mr. Bingley was always cheerful and lighthearted.
Mr. Masters, on the other hand, had a serious, almost forbidding expression.
He spoke well, keeping up with the conversation between her and Miss Darcy. They spoke mostly of country life. Though Mr. Masters clearly preferred the city, he was avidly curious about the difference between city and country life.
After Elizabeth’s sudden, surprising departure from the room, Jane took advantage of the break in the conversation to ask the question that had been burning her tongue since they arrived. “Did Mr. Bingley return to Netherfield with you?”
She assumed he must have, since he owned the lease on Netherfield. But if he had, it made no sense that he had not joined Mr. Darcy in calling on them.
“I am afraid not,” said Mr. Masters. “In fact, he sold the remaining part of the lease to Darcy.”
Jane felt her heart shatter. It had been aching before, but there had been the tiniest bit of hope that perhaps there was some misunderstanding. Perhaps, Mr. Bingley had been delayed by business. If he had sold the lease, however, that was a clear statement that he would not be returning.
She tried to maintain her perpetual serene expression despite her distress, but something must have shown on her face. Mr. Masters said, “I am sorry to have conveyed such unpleasant news.”
Jane glanced over at Miss Darcy to see if she, too, was aware of Jane’s pain, but she had been momentarily distracted by the sight of Mr. Darcy speaking with Mrs. Bennet.
Making an even greater effort, Jane smiled and said, “I thank you for your concern, but it is nothing. Now, tell me, are you an avid theater goer? Most people I know who live in the city go at least a few times a season, some almost every week. Is that something you enjoy?”
The concern in Mr. Masters’ eyes remained, but he seemed to understand her desire to change the subject.
“I am afraid I only attend the theater when one of my friends insists on it. I seldom enjoy the play itself, but even if I did, I don’t think it would outweigh the discomfort of the pomp and circumstance of such a public place.
You must have seen for yourself that many people only go so they can see and be seen. ”
“I have noticed,” said Jane. “Though, for me, the pleasure of seeing a story acted out by those talented enough to do so outweighs that discomfort.”
“Oh, yes,” said Miss Darcy, her attention back on their conversation. “I absolutely agree. I do so love it when Fitzwilliam is willing to let me come to the theater with him. It isn’t often, you see. It has only been since I left school last spring that he would even consider it.”
“Where did you go to school?” asked Jane.
“It was in London,” said Miss Darcy. “We did make a few excursions to the theater while I was there, but that was very different to attending with my brother.”
“I imagine so,” said Jane.
The conversation continued as smoothly as it had been, but Jane noticed that Mr. Masters’ look of concern occasionally returned despite Jane’s best efforts to cover up her heartbreak.
Eventually, Elizabeth returned, and ten minutes later the guests took their leave. Elizabeth took her seat in the window once again, apparently preparing to return to her work on Lydia’s reticule. Mama also returned to her work. Jane took the opportunity to escape to her room.
It was cold in there, since fires were only lit in the bedrooms at night. Because of that, she knew she could not stay for long, but she desperately needed a few minutes to herself.
Once she was certain she was alone and would remain so, Jane let the tears she had been holding back spring forth. Within moments, she was sobbing into her pillow, oblivious to the world around her.
~~~~~
As Darcy rode away from Longbourn in his carriage, he began to wonder if he had made a mistake even attempting to win Miss Elizabeth’s affection. He hadn’t expected her to simply fall at his feet when he declared his intentions, but he also hadn’t expected her to literally run away.
Well, he was here now, and there was no point in giving up just because he hadn’t been immediately successful.
The other people in the carriage were all quiet, so Darcy used the time to think about what Mr. Bennet had said to him, that Miss Elizabeth would not submit to anyone who didn’t respect her. Furthermore, he had said that Darcy didn’t respect anyone he deemed lower than himself.
He thought about his position in life. There weren’t many people that were of his status or higher, but most of the people he associated with were.
Bingley and Masters were the notable exceptions.
Since neither of them had any land, they did not truly have any real status among the gentry despite their wealth.
Darcy knew that his friends’ lack of land made little difference to him. What mattered was having a similar standard of living and having mutual respect.
Because of this, and because of the very great respect he had for the many servants and tenants that worked at Pemberley, he could not agree with Mr. Bennet’s assessment that he did not respect anyone lower than him.
He pondered the problem, trying to define exactly what kind of person he respected.
He realized that the issue wasn’t respect but rather whether he was willing to associate with them.
He had an enormous amount of respect for his housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, but he would not be particularly pleased if he was forced to dine with her in company.
He also tried to define what kind of person he was comfortable with in social situations.
Again, he realized that it had little to do with status the way Mr. Bennet had insinuated.
Rather, it had to do with lifestyle. Darcy felt most comfortable with those who had similar lifestyles and similar experiences to himself.
Naturally, this meant that he gravitated toward wealthier people.
This explained why he had behaved the way he did in this neighborhood where no one was nearly as well off as he was.
Only a couple of the gentlemen were even half as wealthy as Bingley.
Darcy’s assumption that he had nothing in common with those around him had led him to shun everyone without even bothering to find out if he was wrong.
If he was ever to win Miss Elizabeth, he would have to correct that. Given what her father had said about her, she would be unlikely to listen to anything he had to say until she had seen for herself that he was a better man than she thought him.
Once he realized this, he banged on the roof to stop the carriage.
He then gave directions to the driver to make his way to Lucas Lodge.
The others in the carriage looked at him curiously, silently asking for an explanation, but he gave none.
He simply had a short errand to run. Since he only had a month, there was no time to be lost.
~~~~~
When Elizabeth walked into the Gouldings’ drawing room that evening for a dinner party, she was shocked and dismayed to see Mr. Darcy already there. He had only arrived in the neighborhood yesterday. How could he already have an invitation to a party that was planned two weeks ago?
He met her gaze immediately, and she half expected him to come over to her.
He did not. Instead, he continued to chat with Mr. Goulding.
Elizabeth watched him curiously for a minute or more.
His face was more relaxed than she was used to seeing, and it was clear that he was interested in the subject being discussed.
Was this Mr. Darcy, the man who had ignored everyone, who had thought himself better than all the world?
Her mind went back to his chat with her mother.
There, too, he had been pleasant and open, listening attentively and respectfully, even though Mama tended to rattle away, occasionally repeating herself unthinkingly.
Elizabeth had become used to the taciturn, proud, unfeeling Mr. Darcy, so much so that she could usually ignore him.
Now, however, his changing attitudes and behavior were throwing her off and drawing her unwilling attention.
Eventually, she pulled her attention away from the infuriating man and turned to the rest of the room.