Chapter 10 #2
“Speaking of the supper party, I wonder if you might play that song you performed on the pianoforte that evening, Miss Darcy? I have been in raptures since I heard it, and wishing I might hear it again.” Mrs Gardiner asked.
“The melody has been playing in my mind ever since I first heard it that night.”
Georgiana seemed more than pleased — even flattered — that Mrs Gardiner would request a song.
She went immediately to the pianoforte, hardly even pausing to express her willingness before beginning to play.
Mrs Gardiner and Mrs Annesley joined Georgiana at the instrument and listened intently as her expert fingers danced over the black and white keys.
Miss Bennet turned to look over her shoulder at Georgiana.
She seemed about to move to join the other ladies.
Darcy quickly forestalled her. For a moment, while Georgiana’s playing held the attention of the room, they might speak in confidence.
“I wanted to apologise for Miss Bingley’s remarks on the night of the supper party.
It is a considerable act of impropriety to invite anyone, only to have them spoken to in such a way.
I should not wish to think I condoned such discourtesy. ”
Miss Bennet turned to him, looking rather surprised.
“I thank you for your apology, Mr Darcy, though it is hardly necessary. Miss Bingley might, perhaps, but I do not see that you have anything for which you ought to apologise.” She smiled, a little ruefully.
“Besides, I am not in the practice of holding grudges. At least, I have learned not to take everyone’s comments so personally. ”
Darcy raised a brow at this. “Have there been others who have been unkind while you have been here in London?” He hated to think that she had been the target of unkind remarks or even jests.
Some members of the ton — like Miss Bingley and her pernicious sister — were of the mind that they had the right to look down on people they believed to be below them, and thus to criticise and make sport of them.
The thought gave him pause. Had he not been fighting his growing attraction towards Miss Bennet because of her lower social status? Darcy had to admit his own inconsistency. It was a lowering realisation, but he had little time to dwell on it as she spoke.
“I have endured a little backbiting, but none of any great significance. I try never to pay too much mind to such comments, especially when they come from people who do not even know me — who did not even try to get to know me before making up their minds about who they think I am.”
“You are wise,” he said.
She shook her head. “Hardly wise. It is only a matter of necessity. I suppose people think they know me and may pass judgement when they find out I am one of five daughters of a widow who has been reduced to living in a tumbledown cottage, who have had their home and their future ripped from under them.” She stopped, as if she realised that her words had come tumbling out unchecked, like a stream overflowing its bounds after a heavy rain.
Darcy’s heart went out to her. She had undoubtedly endured much over the last two years since her father’s passing. It made a strange, protective feeling rise in his breast.
But that would not do. He had no right to feel protective over her, and it could only confuse them both if he allowed himself the indulgence.
“Forgive me, I do not mean to complain, Mr Darcy,” Miss Bennet said steadily. “I have much to be thankful for.”
“Such as?” Darcy asked. The sentiment was admirable, and easy enough to understand, but he found he wanted to keep her talking, just so he could know what she might say next.
And perhaps, in small part, he wished for her to go on so he could continue to watch the mesmerising way her lips moved when she spoke.
“My mother is in good health, as are my sisters. They have a roof over their heads and plenty to eat. And they have good friends to keep them company.”
“That is all for your family. What about yourself?” Darcy asked.
“I have the same. My aunt and uncle have been good enough to take me in so that I might help with the children. And it is not an imposition, for I love my cousins dearly.” She sighed, though she was smiling at the same time.
“Sometimes I cringe to think where we could have ended, and I am even more grateful for our relatively fortunate situation. There are those who find themselves in much more dire straits than we are now in.”
“Were you ever in dire straits?”
“For a time. Another cousin on my father’s side inherited our family home, and even though we were given some time to find a place to live, my mother wanted to move as quickly as possible. We were lucky to have friends who helped us through the transition.”
“You are a very strong young woman, Miss Bennet,” Darcy said.
The words came out with a note of sincerity even beyond what he had intended.
There were many other ladies he knew, Caroline Bingley being first among them, who were far less content; indeed, who were ungrateful despite all the blessings that had been given them.
“I do not feel strong most of the time,” she said. “But I thank you for the compliment all the same.”
She was too much — too lovely, too charming, and even too wise.
Darcy forced himself to answer her with no more than a nod before walking away towards the piano, ending the conversation.
It would be the better part of wisdom to talk to Miss Bennet as little as could be combined with courtesy until the visit reached its end, and so he did.
Though it took a considerable effort of will.
When the ladies departed, Georgiana came and sat beside him, giving a wry smile. “Do not think I did not notice.”
He chuckled, disliking the nervous note that he could not keep out of his voice. “Notice what?”
Georgiana rolled her eyes heavenward. “The way you engaged Miss Bennet in conversation the entire visit. If I did not know you better, I would think you were quite smitten with her.”
Darcy tried to conceal how right she was. “That is ridiculous.”
“Hmm. Perhaps not as ridiculous as you might think.” She stood and patted his shoulder as she walked out of the room. Darcy could not argue with her.
Yet he must fight down his feelings, whatever it took. Elizabeth Bennet was a charming young lady, but not someone his family would have thought appropriate to be the mistress of Pemberley. His father had made his duty in selecting a wife quite clear.
Surely nothing could justify a choice that would please only himself.