Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Despite entering several shops, the coins in Elizabeth’s reticule remained untouched.
She could not pass anywhere or attempt a purchase without some reference to the previous evening.
Mrs Bennet was not alone in her excitement at Elizabeth dancing twice with the richest bachelor ever to grace Meryton.
“Oh Miss Elizabeth!” Old Miss Trowbridge offered a toothless grin and tapped her wrinkled hand upon the sleeve of Elizabeth’s cloak as she left the final shop. “To be young again and dance all night without a care! I wish you and Mr Darcy well! He could do no better! Tell me everything, my dear.”
Elizabeth had not the heart to contradict her elderly neighbour and covered her embarrassment with a careless wave of her hand. “To be sure, I danced with so many men, I cannot recall every detail.”
“And yet you did not dance with poor Fred.” Lady Lucas stepped from a nearby shop, her face speaking of deep disapproval. “One might have expected a dance, given the longevity and steadiness of your acquaintance. Still, Mr Darcy is rich and therefore of more interest, I suppose.”
Elizabeth had no wish to exchange heated words with Lady Lucas, on a public street no less.
Yet the hypocrisy of her accusation was impossible to ignore.
“Men of wealth have always proved to be a subject of interest around these parts—or at least that has been my experience,” she replied coolly, thinking of the elder woman’s prolonged interest in her godfather.
“Quite so. I speak only as a mother of a disappointed son.”
“Another time perhaps.” Elizabeth curtseyed, not wanting to offend Lady Lucas, yet unwilling to encourage any hope of an attachment.
Lady Lucas curtseyed in return and swept away, leaving Elizabeth to face the growing crowd of inquisitive faces.
All night Darcy had been consumed with the memory of dancing with Miss Elizabeth.
He had scarcely slept, a restless energy inhabiting his body, the delicious memory of her hand in his pulsing through his veins.
His second dance with Miss Elizabeth had been even more enjoyable than the first. He was not in the habit of excessive drinking, but he had taken a small glass of wine to quell the unexpected wave of anticipation.
The combination of alcohol mixed with Miss Elizabeth’s delightful presence made for a potent union, and he found himself talking more freely than he ever had at a public event.
There had been times where he had caused her to laugh, and even now, as he ate his breakfast in Netherfield Park, the memory of her joyful response would occasionally bring a private smile to his lips.
His attention to Miss Elizabeth had not gone unnoticed, however.
He was forced to endure a morning of barbed remarks from Miss Bingley about how a woman could be too forward with her charms, and it was a great relief to him when Bingley observed that if his sister disliked Miss Elizabeth so greatly then she probably would not want to accept an invitation to dine with the Bennets at Longbourn the next day.
“Oh of course I should attend,” she purred softly. “But poor Mr Darcy has suffered enough of Meryton’s society.” She addressed him more intimately. “I shall go in your place—you need not trouble yourself.”
“I have already accepted.”
“Heavens, that was quick!” Bingley shot a curious look in Darcy’s direction. “The message only arrived an hour ago.”
“It does not take me an hour to confirm an invitation for dinner.”
“Yes, quite right, Charles. You should follow Mr Darcy’s example and be more decisive with your correspondence.”
Pink spots formed on Bingley’s cheeks, and he glanced slyly from his sister to Darcy. “In that case I shall write to accept the invitation on my behalf but regretfully decline it on yours and Louisa’s. I trust that is decisive enough, even for you.”
Miss Bingley opened her mouth to protest, but Bingley stood abruptly. “Come, Darcy. Shall we meet at the stables at eleven and leave Caro in peace?”
Nothing would please me more. Darcy gave his excuses and made a hasty retreat.
Darcy was surprised to note that in one thing he and Mrs Bennet had found agreement: a well-cooked partridge never disappoints.
However, in other matters regarding the art of dining, their opinions did not harmonise.
He found Mrs Bennet’s table to be overladen with food, more than was comfortable to eat.
Worse still was that she insisted he try a little of everything she had on offer.
If it were not for the fact that Miss Elizabeth was at his left elbow, he might have chosen to firmly decline.
Valiantly, he accepted another serving of over-boiled carrots, wondering at what madness made him agree to attend this dinner party in the first instance.
Bingley had lost himself in conversation with Miss Bennet, who smiled very nicely but did not appear to be overly enamoured with his friend.
Darcy hoped that Bingley knew what he was about, their earlier conversation regarding being more decisive still echoing in Darcy’s ears.
Bingley was known to be impulsive, but an unequal marriage was to be avoided at all costs.
Uncomfortable in his chair, he shifted his leg and accidentally brushed his foot against Miss Elizabeth’s.
She jumped, dropping her knife with a clatter. All eyes turned to them.
“I must—” Darcy opened his mouth to assume responsibility but was resolutely silenced by a violent coughing fit from Miss Elizabeth.
“You must what, Mr Darcy?” Mrs Bennet’s smile stretched wider than was natural.
“I must congratulate you on your fine dinner,” he replied, reaching to pour Miss Elizabeth a drink.
“Oh, to be sure, only the best for you and Mr Bingley.” Mrs Bennet’s bosom swelled dangerously. “I am not sure there is anyone else in all of Meryton who would appreciate such fare.” She tilted her chin in Miss Elizabeth’s direction. “Lizzy helped me prepare the menu.”
Miss Lydia snorted from her position at the furthest end of the table. “I heard Lizzy say that we did not need quite so many dishes. If you listened to her, we would all be starving.”
“Hush dearest, for you have surely misunderstood our conversation.” Darcy did not miss the glare Mrs Bennet bestowed upon her youngest daughter and he glanced at Elizabeth, who looked very pale and unhappy at her mother’s poor manners.
Darcy was on the point of interjecting, but Bingley’s effusive enthusiasm saved the day. “Whoever prepared it should be very proud, for this dinner is a delight, an utter triumph!”
“Jane was of great assistance to me also.” Mrs Bennet tapped her eldest daughter lightly on the arm. “She has such excellent taste. I have always thought her well-suited to be mistress of an estate with a large kitchen”
Such transparent manoeuvrings would surely be objectionable to any reasonable man, but Bingley did not flinch.
Perhaps love has made him blind to the folly of Mrs Bennet as a mother-in-law.
This realisation caused Darcy to feel uneasy.
The conversation moved on to other matters.
On the opposite side of the dinner table sat Mr Bennet, and Darcy was soon under the distinct impression that he was being watched.
A fleeting reference was made to the Lucas family and Darcy glanced again at Miss Elizabeth.
“Have you met Mr Lucas? What was your impression?” Mr Bennet addressed Darcy through the chatter. The conversation around him died and Darcy felt all eyes on him as he made his answer.
To be singled out in such a way was highly uncomfortable, and it was a moment before Darcy could reply. “I could not say. We have scarcely spoken. Not enough to form a faithful opinion.”
Mr Bennet regarded him shrewdly. “He has long been a friend of our family, but I too have yet to discover anything of note within him.”
“Let us talk of other things.” Miss Elizabeth’s voice was shrill, and he risked a glance at her. Clearly this reference to Mr Lucas was unwelcome.
“What would you like to discuss?” Darcy asked, pleased to see her shoulders sag with relief as the conversation moved on. She seemed so unlike her typically ebullient self that Darcy wished he might find some witticism, a clever turn of phrase that would make her laugh and put her at ease.
“I am happy to talk about anything but food. It is all anyone has spoken about today.”
“Tell Mr Darcy about the piece you are learning.” Mrs Bennet’s fork waved as she spoke, jabbing towards Miss Elizabeth so enthusiastically that a drop of sauce fell onto the tablecloth.
“I am sure Mr Darcy does not wish to hear of my clumsy attempts at the pianoforte.”
“Oh, such modesty!” Mrs Bennet turned her fork towards Darcy. “My Lizzy plays very well, though not quite so well as Jane.”
Miss Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably in her seat. He wished to ease her embarrassment and said, “My sister is an accomplished musician. Perhaps Miss Elizabeth might care to recommend some pieces that might suit her.”
“A capital notion.” Mrs Bennet nodded breathlessly. “And what an honour for dear Lizzy, to suggest that she should become acquainted with Miss Darcy.” This was not precisely what Darcy had meant, but at that moment the servants came to clear the plates and conversation moved on, much to his relief.