Chapter 13 #2
“No, I am only pleased to be dressed simply and elegantly,” she assured him quickly, and then turned her smile to his sister. “It is a fine compliment for any woman.”
As Mr Darcy led the way into the hall, Miss Darcy and Elizabeth followed.
“Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley are always elegant,” the girl whispered. “But their dress is rarely simple.”
Elizabeth’s mouth twitched with amusement at this observation, but she managed to hold her tongue.
Both of Mr Bingley’s sisters often appeared overdressed to her eye, but Elizabeth had supposed that this might be ascribed to her country upbringing and lack of familiarity with London fashions.
If Miss Darcy had noticed it too, then they were likely indeed a little too elaborately outfitted, even by London standards.
“Bingley, it is always good to have you here.”
As Mr Darcy clasped his friend’s hand for a moment and nodded curtly to Mr Hurst, Miss Darcy and Miss Bennet came forward to bow before the two Bingley ladies.
“Georgiana, how well you look,” cooed Mrs Hurst, embracing the slightly reluctant young woman. “I do believe you have grown again.”
“Your dress is very pretty,” added Miss Bingley. “I dare say you will be in adult gowns soon enough, and out in society with us.”
“That will not be for another year, or maybe two,” Mr Darcy interjected at this remark, taking a line with which Elizabeth firmly agreed. “There is no rush to grow up any faster than necessary.”
Elizabeth saw that Miss Darcy was blushing uncomfortably at Miss Bingley’s remark. No doubt she had regarded this particular dress already as grown-up, with its hems touching her shoes and its material a rich silk. She took the girl’s arm and patted it reassuringly.
Mr Bingley came to stand in front of them then and expressed how glad he was to see them looking so happy and in good health.
“Miss Bennet is very good for me,” pronounced Miss Darcy. “We have had such fun together these past weeks. I will be very glad to see Miss Annesley again when she returns, but I will also be sorry to lose Miss Bennet. It is a pity that I can have only one companion.”
Mr Bingley and Elizabeth both chuckled at this frank admission of affection and then smiled at one another too. She was glad not to have to be cross at such an amiable young man anymore. Charles Bingley would be almost as difficult to dislike as Jane.
“One companion maybe, but as many correspondents as you can keep up with,” suggested Elizabeth to Miss Darcy. “When I leave, we could write to one another, and you can keep me abreast of all your news.”
“I shall,” Miss Darcy agreed eagerly. “I have few correspondents, except for my mother’s sister, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and Great Aunt Emily who lives in Bath.”
Having greeted Elizabeth personally with only a rather frigid nod, Caroline Bingley now shrugged off her coat and held it expectantly in Elizabeth’s direction.
Before Elizabeth could react, but not before the gesture had been noted by all, a maid almost snatched it from Miss Bingley’s hand and hurried it away, preventing the unpleasant scene that might have otherwise arisen.
As was likely intended, Elizabeth’s anger was provoked, especially after seeing the smugness of Miss Bingley’s face and that of her sister.
Mr Darcy’s face was thunderous, and Mr Bingley turned pink with embarrassment.
Only Mr Hurst was unaffected, or unseeing, his eyes unfocused and his nose rather red, in a way that hinted at a habit of frequent imbibing.
“Any chance of a quick snifter before supper, Darcy?” asked Mr Hurst, apparently oblivious to the awkward atmosphere. “I could always do with a brandy at this time of night.”
“We are going directly into supper,” Mr Darcy answered shortly. “Soames will bring whatever you wish to drink.”
Turning away from the Hursts, he offered his arm to Elizabeth, with a slight bow of his dark head.
Surprised, but not unwilling to accept this deliberate courtesy, she took it, and saw Mr Bingley lend his arm to Georgiana.
Mr and Mrs Hurst came in together, and Caroline Bingley was the one left to walk into supper alone.
Elizabeth was glad of Mr Darcy’s tacit support in that awkward confrontation but also conscious that it would do nothing to endear her to Miss Bingley.
As soon as they were seated at the table, she could see the fury in Miss Bingley’s eyes.
Elizabeth took a steadying breath and steeled herself against it, prepared to defend herself as necessary.
“The Magic Flute was a fine performance, was it not?” Charles Bingley began the conversation pleasantly, looking to both Miss Darcy and to Elizabeth as the soup was served. “You are both more musical than I, and must have appreciated it more. I told Caroline that she missed a real treat.”
“Oh, it was quite wonderful,” Georgiana confirmed, happy with Mr Bingley’s choice of subject and keen to continue it. “Wasn’t it good, Miss Bennet? We have been playing the arias and singing them all week.”
“Indeed we have,” laughed Elizabeth. “Your poor brother must be sick of listening to us, especially after having so recently heard it performed by such talented professionals.”
“Not at all,” Mr Darcy joined in, the stiffness of his expression easing a little. “Mozart is usually very easy on the ear, no matter who is playing or singing.”
“There, you see?” Mr Bingley said to his youngest sister. “Your card games cannot have been half as memorable.”
“I have seen The Magic Flute before,” remarked Caroline Bingley with vague disinterest. “It is not my favourite opera.”
“Is it your favourite opera, Miss Bennet?” Mr Bingley persisted, refusing to let the conversation be scuppered yet.
“Perhaps, but I have seen so few that all have seemed my favourite at the time… So, yes, The Magic Flute is my favourite opera today, but not necessarily next month or next year.”
Louisa Hurst gave a long yawn and then excused herself.
“You are very modern in your thinking, Mr Darcy, I must say,” commented Miss Bingley. “I used to suppose you more traditional.”
“There is a time for tradition and a time for modern thinking,” Mr Darcy replied and then returned to his soup, declining to ask Miss Bingley what she meant, as Elizabeth supposed that young woman had been hoping.
Indeed, Caroline Bingley looked annoyed at his response and his lack of attention to her, but forced a smile onto her face nevertheless.
“Not every gentleman takes his sister’s companion to the opera,” Miss Bingley continued with a malicious little glance of her eyes at Elizabeth, ignoring the embarrassment on her brother’s face. “It is a very modern thing to do.”
Mr Darcy ignored Miss Bingley’s ill-mannered words and turned to his sister instead.
“How are your new winter boots, Georgiana?” he asked. “Are they stout enough to handle London rains?”
“They are very comfortable, Fitzwilliam,” Miss Darcy confirmed. Turning to the others at the table, she added, “Miss Bennet helped me to choose a pair from Carter’s, and they are far sturdier than my old boots.”
“Of course they are,” Miss Bingley murmured with another needling little look to Elizabeth.
“That is good to know,” said Louisa Hurst, slightly less rude than her sister but just as condescending in her own way. “I have had slippers from Carter’s before, but never boots. Do you always buy boots at Carter’s, Miss Bennet?”
“Carters is a favourite of Mrs Annesley,” Elizabeth explained. “I hardly know it at all. My own shoes are from Hertfordshire, not London.”
“Naturally,” acknowledged Mrs Hurst with a nod. “We were very surprised to see you at Almack’s assembly rooms last month, given that your family normally hides away in the countryside.”
“I was quite astonished,” Miss Bingley added. “But now that I find you working as a companion, it makes far more sense to think you were there in a professional capacity.
As with her previous digs at Elizabeth, Caroline Bingley looked very pleased with herself and oblivious to the negative reaction she was apparently stirring in Mr Darcy.
Indeed, he looked across the table at Miss Bingley as though he would have liked to throw her out of his house, but could not due to his friendship with Mr Bingley.
Elizabeth did not, however, ascribe Mr Darcy’s reaction to any particular regard for her, or even chivalry towards the fairer sex in general.
It was more about the fundamental features of his own character.
Mr Darcy was a man who valued clear-thinking and honesty, and disdained trivial thinking and deceit.
He carried all of these things to a fault, in Elizabeth’s view.
Yet Miss Bingley seemed to see none of this. Despite her obvious aspirations to become Mrs Darcy, she failed to understand the first thing about the master of Pemberley, and persisted in making herself unpleasant and ridiculous to him.
“How did you find Almack’s, Miss Bennet?” Mr Bingley asked courteously, obviously genuinely interested in her experience.
Charles Bingley had not treated Elizabeth one whit differently since encountering her as Georgiana Darcy’s companion rather than solely a young lady of Hertfordshire.
She doubted that his good-nature and innate fairness allowed him to treat anyone differently solely due to changes in their circumstances.
“I found it rather busy and loud,” Elizabeth told him honestly. “It was hard to converse, and I am not sure that I should like to go there regularly. I do not believe that either Jane or myself enjoyed ourselves half as much as we did at the Netherfield Ball.”
“Ah,” he acknowledged immediately, his face half pleased with the compliment and reference to Jane, and half sad, perhaps for the empty time that had passed since that happy night. “My own memories of the ball at Netherfield Park are also very fond.”