Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Lucas Lodge
Elizabeth
“Jane looks radiant,” Charlotte observed. “I have never seen her so happy. My mother said there was talk that Netherfield was shut up and its residents had removed to town. I am glad to see she was mistaken.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “She was not mistaken, sadly. Jane says Mr. Bingley’s sisters did everything in their power to keep him in town.
They offered all sorts of reasons why a connection with my sister would be a complete and utter disaster.
I placed little faith in Miss Bingley’s note, but Jane did, and was truly distressed.
All is made right now, however, and I shall rejoice that her heart has not been irrevocably broken. ”
Charlotte nodded in commiseration. Her future was secure; the engagement between Miss Lucas and Mr. Collins had caused considerable turmoil at Longbourn, and within Elizabeth herself.
All her sensibilities rebelled against her dear friend entering a union of convenience.
Charlotte deserved more than a mediocre existence as the wife of a ridiculous parson.
She, however, seemed content with her choice, and so Elizabeth would stand by her.
“Will he make her an offer soon?” Charlotte’s query drew Elizabeth back to the present.
“I expect he will. It is clear his ardor has not waned, and Jane’s admiration is writ plainly on her face.
Her hopes wavered until he returned, but now her faith is restored.
” Elizabeth gazed lovingly at her favorite sister.
Jane’s face was luminescent; the candlelight made the jeweled combs in her hair sparkle, adding to her beauty.
“What about Mr. Darcy?” Charlotte asked, nodding to the gentleman who stood across the room speaking with Mr. Goulding. “He seems very different from how he was before the Netherfield Ball.”
“I cannot account for the change. He actually smiled at me the other day. Can you imagine it? The proud, haughty Mr. Darcy deigned to grant me a happy expression!” Elizabeth chuckled, though it sounded half-hearted even to her own ears.
The gentleman’s altered behavior had startled her.
Mr. Bingley had called on Jane every day since his return, and Mr. Darcy always accompanied him.
He was not gregarious, but he made an effort to speak with Elizabeth.
His usual aloofness was nowhere to be seen.
Yes, he remained reserved, but now in a manner more reminiscent of Jane.
Why, he had even attempted to converse with Mary and Mrs. Bennet—Mary had stared at him, mute, while her mother had appeared flustered and unsure how to respond.
“See how well he gets along with Mr. Goulding.” Charlotte nodded once more in his direction. “Few can tolerate his inane ramblings. Though I respect the gentleman, he makes my father’s monologues seem pleasant.”
Mr. Goulding was elderly—nearly eighty. He had outlived three wives and four of his children.
Now, he kept to his small estate, Goldfinch Manor, occasionally attending soirees or other gatherings.
His daughter and grandson resided with him.
The boy, merely twelve, was to go away to school the following year.
Mrs. Willis, formerly Miss Goulding, was a child of Mr. Goulding’s third marriage.
She had been widowed when her husband, a navy captain, was lost at sea.
“Why do you suppose he is so altered?” Elizabeth asked with curiosity. “I cannot account for it. It may be all a show.”
“What purpose would he have in giving a false representation of himself?” Charlotte shook her head in disagreement. “I think it is more likely that the absence of a certain lady has helped him relax enough to be pleasant in company.”
Elizabeth laughed merrily. “I can agree with that. Miss Bingley’s preference for his company was hardly reciprocated. I do not believe Mr. Darcy appreciates her company at all.”
Charlotte’s shrewd gaze turned in her friend’s direction, sharpened by a pointed look.
“His affections appear fixed in another quarter,” she stated calmly.
“No, Elizabeth, do not protest. You choose not to see it, but his admiration is clear. Why you insist on avoiding him is beyond me. He has twice the consequence of Mr. Bingley, and many more connections.”
“If such things were of interest to me, then I would not hesitate to press this supposed advantage you claim I possess. Alas, I will not marry where there is no mutual respect and affection. Mr. Darcy’s own words condemn him.
I believe he said I was tolerable, and not handsome enough to tempt him.
He watches me only to find fault—that is all. ”
“Think that if it gives you comfort. Only, do not be so hasty to disregard him. It may be the worst decision you could ever make. Think, Eliza. I shall have some influence over Mr. Collins as his wife, but I could scarcely urge him to receive into his home the relations of a lady who so decidedly refused him. Your father will eventually die, as we all must, and when that happens, your family will be nearly destitute.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Jane will marry Mr. Bingley. We shall not perish.”
Charlotte sighed heavily and said no more as she was called away by her mother. Elizabeth felt grateful, for she wearied of her friend’s constant efforts to match her with Mr. Darcy.
I do not like him. Why should I? He has done nothing to earn my regard. Indeed, he has done everything possible to make me hate him. And how could I consider marrying a man who would destroy the happiness and prospects of a close friend? That is not honorable behavior.
She glanced about the room, determined to look anywhere but at him.
Kitty and Lydia lingered in a corner with Captain Denny and Lieutenant Sanderson, two officers of the militia.
Frowning, Elizabeth realized she had not seen Mr. Wickham that evening.
He had been invited, as had all the officers. Why, then, had he not attended?
He must have heard Mr. Darcy would be here and chose to remain away. Yet even as the thought formed, another recollection surfaced—something Mr. Wickham had said:
“It is not for me to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go.”
Elizabeth pondered the contradiction between Mr. Wickham’s words and his actions.
Had he not said until he could forget the father, he could not expose the son?
Was that not what he did when confiding in Elizabeth?
Mr. Wickham did not strike her as a man easily intimidated.
His old friend’s presence ought not to prevent him from enjoying an evening among society.
Elizabeth found herself resenting Mr. Darcy for placing him in such an uncomfortable and precarious position.
Yet in the next moment, logic reasserted itself, and she acknowledged the inconsistency in his behavior.
She understood his reluctance to pass an evening under the same roof as Mr. Darcy, but there was something disingenuous in his refusal to attend.
She did not wish for these conflicting thoughts to spoil the evening, and so she set them aside until they could be examined more thoroughly.
Elizabeth began to make her way about the room, conversing with her neighbors.
All were eager for the Christmas season.
From Mrs. Long, she learned that a gathering was to be held at Haye Park on Christmas Eve.
It was not commonly done, and Elizabeth suspected the Longs sought to introduce a new mode of celebration.
She felt confident her mother would not object, and thus they would attend.
She became strangely aware of Mr. Darcy’s presence as she moved about the room.
After speaking with Mr. Goulding, he next engaged Sir William Lucas in conversation.
He gave every appearance of being an attentive listener; his eyes did not glaze over, as others’ often did, when the knight began to discourse on St. James's Court.
At one point, from the other side of the drawing room, she met his gaze. Blushing, she looked away.
Some time later, she took a glass of punch and moved to stand by an open window. The room had grown oppressively warm, and she longed for a breath of cooler air.
“Miss Elizabeth.” Mr. Darcy appeared at her side. “Are you well?”
“I am, thank you. Sir William’s events are always well attended.
It is impossible to avoid some discomfort, given the number of guests.
” She shifted slightly, allowing the cracked window behind her to come into view.
“I find some relief here. Charlotte—Miss Lucas—always ensures that one or two windows remain open to permit a breeze.”
He shifted, his manner uncertain; whether it was from nerves, discomfort, or some other cause, she could not tell.
“Will you and Mr. Bingley receive other guests for Christmas at Netherfield Park?” she asked, attempting to make light conversation.
Why can I never converse with him as I do so easily with others?
Her glass of punch trembled slightly in her hands, and she set it carefully upon the windowsill.
Her palms were damp within her gloves, and she longed to remove them and cast them aside.
“I do not believe Bingley has invited anyone besides myself,” he replied. He tugged at his cuffs and cleared his throat. “It has been peaceful at Netherfield Park, but neither of us minds. There is ample amusement and opportunity for society in Meryton and the surrounding area.”
Elizabeth could not resist a pert rejoinder. “I did not take you for one who enjoys society, sir.” Inwardly, she winced. It would not do to provoke the gentleman…at least, not until Jane’s future was secure.