Chapter 9
A drizzle of rain met them as Elizabeth left the house with her aunt and uncle.
March had blown in stormy and wild, but with a softening to the air, the threat of snow behind them.
Though Elizabeth might have preferred a glimpse of the sun, the rain at least settled the fog and allowed for a pleasant view as they drove from Cheapside to Darcy House.
“How very good-natured Mr Darcy was to invite us to a supper party!” Mrs Gardiner exclaimed. “I cannot help but like him more and more each time we meet.”
Elizabeth could not help but agree. “I thought him rather stern and unwilling to be pleased when we first met, but I confess I was wrong. I think I can give him no better compliment than to say that I think the benevolence of his character to be equal to the quickness of his mind.” Indeed, she had been quite wrong in imagining that Mr Darcy was too conscious of his own superior position to wish to associate with them, or to allow his sister to do so.
Likely it would have been Miss Darcy who proposed the supper, but Elizabeth was confident that Mr Darcy’s indulgence as a brother would not extend to permitting his sister to form connections he considered undesirable.
“It will be interesting to meet the other guests who are to attend, as Mr Darcy mentioned in his note.” Mr Gardiner, ever the wise businessman, was undoubtedly thinking of the connections that could be made from this acquaintance.
Of course, there was not a scheming bone in his body, but he had always lived by the adage, “It is not what one knows, but who one knows.” The results spoke for themselves.
Thanks to his pleasant manners and his quick mind, Mr Gardiner had many friends throughout England and beyond; and thanks to the combination of the three, his business had prospered.
“The Darcys are such lovely people. I cannot imagine their friends being anything but,” Elizabeth remarked with a smile.
The prospect was a very pleasant one. Since their meeting at the teahouse, she and Miss Darcy had rapidly become better acquainted, returning visits with a speed spurred equally by politeness and enthusiasm for each other’s company.
“I hear that Mr Bingley is Mr Darcy’s particular friend, and his two elder sisters, Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst, are very fashionable women.
Their grandfather was a wine merchant, and apparently a very successful one.
He came up in much the same fashion as you did, Uncle,” Elizabeth said.
“Miss Darcy has said little about Mr Hurst, however.” Mrs Hurst, formerly the eldest Bingley, had married Mr Hurst several years before.
Either he was not possessed of a significant personality, or he was not sufficiently present for Miss Darcy to mention.
“It will be nice to meet some of the Darcys’ other friends. I have been looking forward to this night with no small anticipation,” Mrs Gardiner remarked.
“As have I,” Elizabeth agreed. The evening had every prospect of being delightful.
She had not written for three days leading up to the supper party.
That, combined with a great deal of scrubbing, had done the trick.
She need not fear drawing attention that might reveal her secret tonight, for it would be difficult for even a keen eye to see the vestiges of her writing.
When they arrived, the sun had set, and the small half-moon-shaped drive was alight with small lanterns to lead the way to the front door.
After assisting his wife, Mr Gardiner offered his hand to help her climb down from the carriage.
Elizabeth took it and jumped lightly down before following behind her aunt and uncle as they made their way up the steps to the house.
Before they could knock, however, the door was opened, and the butler bade them come in.
Their hosts were waiting for them in the drawing room.
While Mr Darcy was perfectly courteous, his sister was nearly unable to contain her excitement.
Almost as soon as she had completed her bow and offered a word of greeting to the Gardiners, she rushed over to Elizabeth.
“Oh, my dear Miss Bennet, you cannot know how I have been looking forward to this evening! Thank you for coming,” she said with obvious and touching sincerity.
“It is I who should thank you, Miss Darcy. We are honoured by your invitation,” Elizabeth said readily.
Indeed, both the compliment of a supper invitation and the question of who might be considered to offer condescension to the other were entirely on Miss Darcy’s side.
It was a credit to her young friend’s modesty and openheartedness that she did not see it so.
But then, that was what made Miss Darcy so charming.
Her companion, Mrs Annesley, looked proud of her young charge — as well she should be.
They had no more than exchanged the first greetings when new arrivals were announced.
Elizabeth looked at the other members of their supper party with considerable curiosity.
The principal among these was Mr Bingley, a handsome young man with reddish hair.
To judge by the warmth of his greeting with the usually reserved Mr Darcy, their friendship must have been of very long standing.
As Miss Darcy had expected, Mr Bingley had brought with him his two sisters and the husband of the elder, a Mr Hurst.
Mr Bingley was evidently a man of happy manners, for he at once began to speak pleasantly with them, quite free from shyness or restraint. “It is a pleasure to meet you all. Miss Bennet, I understand you hail from Meryton, in Hertfordshire?”
“Yes, I do. My mother and four sisters are there still.”
“I have heard of the enchanting Bennet family, but have never had the pleasure of meeting any of them. Until now, of course.”
Elizabeth smiled, liking him already. “You are too kind, sir. And if you enjoy my acquaintance, then I hope you may meet my sister Jane one day. She is a far more agreeable companion than I could ever claim to be.”
“I very much doubt that, Miss Bennet.” His eyes twinkled, as though at a private joke. Elizabeth smiled back, thinking with satisfaction that her expectations for any friends of the Darcys seemed fully justified.
She was soon to learn otherwise. While Mrs Hurst spoke to them politely enough, and Mr Hurst treated them with no more disinterest than he did every other person present, Miss Caroline Bingley was strikingly unlike her brother.
She approached Elizabeth with a smile that felt distinctly cold.
“Why, Miss Bennet, what a pleasure to meet you. How delighted you must be to find yourself in London instead of a dreary little market town like Meryton! It was dreadfully dull when I stayed at Netherfield with my brother. Indeed, I congratulate you on your escape.”
Such insults, spoken with so patently insincere a smile, could not be otherwise than infuriating. Miss Bingley looked at her with a challenging glint in her eye, evidently anticipating her reply.
“I am very sorry to hear you did not enjoy the countryside, Miss Bingley,” Elizabeth replied, her tone as bland as she could make it.
“I am very fond of it myself, for the fresh air, the open vistas, and the pleasure of living so quietly in nature. But then, London also has a great deal to recommend it.”
Miss Bingley looked rather annoyed that she had not taken the bait. The expression lasted for only a moment before it was wiped off her face as if it had never been, to be replaced by a superior smile.
“Indeed it does,” Miss Bingley replied. “Why, you have become acquainted with the Darcys here! That is a piece of luck indeed.” She glanced around, as though not wishing to be overheard. “Do you not think Mr Darcy prodigiously handsome?”
Elizabeth was forced to suppress a laugh, for Miss Bingley had carefully pitched her voice so that it would carry to their host, while still pretending to be a whisper.
It was evident Mr Darcy had overheard, for he looked little short of mortified.
Poor man — his eyes had gone to her, as though dreading her answer.
Likely he sympathised with the difficult position she found herself in, for it was obviously impossible either to agree with Miss Bingley or to contradict her, and to deliberately speak below his hearing would almost be worse.
But Elizabeth was not at a loss. “Mr Darcy is a very pleasant acquaintance,” she replied, making no pretence of lowering her voice. “Indeed, I am always glad to meet so sensible and well-informed a man.”
“Sensible! Well-informed!” Miss Bingley said in her pretended whisper. “Do you not think, Miss Bennet, that this is too little praise for so excellent a man? I am sure you must be more impressed than you wish to admit. Certainly I could not speak of Mr Darcy so coolly.”
To Elizabeth’s utter lack of surprise, Mr Darcy could take no more of this. He cleared his throat and put an end to their ‘private’ conversation by suggesting they all convene around the hearth and get better acquainted until supper was served.
Elizabeth agreed with alacrity, for she had no more desire to continue speaking with Miss Bingley than he could have to listen to such embarrassing public flattery.
She moved toward the fire gladly, for it had been chilly coming in from the drizzling rain.
Thankfully, she had not got her hem wet, as she so often had during walks about the countryside.
The streets of London had the advantage of being paved with cobblestones, at least in the wealthier sections of Town.
However, Elizabeth would have traded the noise, vapours, and smog in a heartbeat for the quiet, solitude, and fresh country air.
“Mr Bingley has recently let the Netherfield estate,” Mr Darcy said as they gathered around the fire. “Am I correct in thinking it is near your family’s home?”