CHAPTER TWELVE #2
“Wickham is handsomer,” Lydia insisted. “Every girl in Meryton says so.”
Mr. Bennet, leaning back in his chair, gave a low chuckle. “What an intellectual dispute. I wonder that Hertfordshire has not yet elected you both to judge all matters of military appearance.”
Mrs. Bennet shot him a reproving look. “Do not mock them, Mr. Bennet. You will discourage the girls from catching the officers’ attention, and then where will they be? You never scold Elizabeth, but you always find fault with Lydia or Kitty.”
Mr. Bennet smiled faintly. “It is the only recreation I have left, my dear.”
Before she could reply, he unfolded a small note from beside his plate. “Speaking of entertainments, I received an invitation this afternoon. It seems Netherfield is to hold a ball in two days’ time.”
A delighted cry went up from Lydia and Kitty, while Jane’s eyes lit with quiet pleasure. “Mr. Bingley mentioned it to me last week,” she said softly.
“Indeed,” Mr. Collins added at last, his voice stiff and composed.
“It will be an honour to meet the principal families of the neighbourhood. Such events are most useful for social improvement and—” he paused, glancing at Elizabeth with a smile that did not reach his eyes—“for observing which young ladies display the proper graces of conversation and decorum.”
Elizabeth returned his look with perfect calm, though the gleam in her eye spoke volumes.
Mrs. Bennet, unwilling to let the subject rest, turned sharply toward her second daughter. “Elizabeth, you will not bring that animal of yours to the ball. I will not have a repeat of what happened at the assembly. You will put her in a cage or tie her in the yard if you must.”
Elizabeth stared in disbelief. “But, Mama—”
“No buts, child. You are too attached to that creature. I will not have you scandalising the family again because you cannot go anywhere without your dog at your heels.”
Kitty leaned forward eagerly. “But Apollo will miss Pippin if she is not there,” she said, giggling.
Lydia nodded. “He will indeed. Apollo lives at Netherfield, after all. Pippin could stay in the kennel with him.”
Elizabeth’s voice was cool. “Mr. Darcy does not keep Apollo in a kennel.”
Lydia smirked. “You seem to know a great deal about Mr. Darcy already, Lizzy. It is no wonder half of Meryton thinks you and he are attached.”
Mrs. Bennet gasped, her fan snapping shut. “That nonsense again! I heard it myself this afternoon from one of the maids. Foolish talk, I told her—but still, I will not have such rumours about my daughter. With all that dog did at the assembly, anyone with sense should know Mr. Darcy would never—”
“Soiling the good name of a gentleman engaged to his cousin is most improper,” Mr. Collins interjected self-importantly.
“Mr. Darcy is a man of principle, and he would never stoop to entertain idle gossip. He understands the value of family connection and the duty of marrying suitably—unlike some, who disregard such prudence.” His gaze again flickered toward Elizabeth, the implication unmistakable.
“Lizzy,” said Mr. Bennet, half-smiling, “have you heard this rumour yourself? I should hate for your reputation to suffer over mere village tattle.”
Elizabeth looked untroubled. “Indeed I have, Papa. Mr. Darcy and I discussed it at Netherfield. It seems our dogs’ affection for each other has been mistaken for our own.”
“Ah,” said Mr. Bennet, eyes twinkling. “Then let us hope Apollo does not propose.”
Mrs. Bennet glared at him, but he only sipped his wine. “And what does Mr. Darcy make of such gossip?”
Elizabeth smiled faintly. “He said that people who choose to believe falsehoods without seeking the truth are welcome to their ignorance. He does not think the matter worth correcting.”
“Spoken like Lady Catherine herself,” said Mr. Collins reverently.
Elizabeth’s eyes flicked toward him, her expression cool and amused. She wondered what he would say if he knew the rumour of Mr. Darcy’s supposed engagement to his cousin was the very sort of falsehood he himself had embraced without question.
Mr. Bennet, catching her look, chuckled. “It seems, Lizzy, that you spoke quite a deal with Mr. Darcy during your visit.”
Elizabeth coloured slightly. “We did converse, yes. He is much altered from my first impression—more open, and far kinder than I believed. I think he is a man very much misunderstood.”
A silence followed this declaration. Mrs. Bennet’s fork clattered onto her plate, Kitty and Lydia exchanged knowing looks, and even Mr. Collins shifted uncomfortably. Only Mr. Bennet seemed quietly entertained.
"I see," he said, his eyes crinkling slightly. "Well, Pippin seems to have excellent judgment in her companions. Perhaps we should all take note."
Elizabeth smiled despite herself. “Perhaps, Papa.”
The talk soon turned back to the Netherfield ball, to gowns and ribbons and the general excitement of the occasion.
But Elizabeth’s thoughts were elsewhere.
As Pippin pressed close to her knee, Elizabeth absently stroked her soft fur, her mind drifting to the tall, reserved gentleman whose words had surprised her so.
Unseen by her, Mr. Bennet watched his daughter with quiet curiosity. There was a softness in her expression he had not noticed before, and though he said nothing, the faintest smile touched his lips.