Chapter Seven #2
He turned a questioning look on Lydia, who leaned to whisper to him as they walked away, joining the end of the line of dancers along with John Lucas and Kitty.
Mr. Goulding the younger arrived next, bowing. “Miss Bennet, may I—”
“You may not.” Mrs. Bennet caught Mary by the shoulder and shoved her forward. “Dance with Mary. Jane is waiting for Mr. Bingley.”
His expression as confused as Paul Lucas’s had been, Mr. Goulding shrugged and offered his hand to Mary. Lips pursed, she took it, leaving Elizabeth with Jane and their mother.
The set commenced, Mrs. Bennet tapping her foot out of rhythm, her attention fixed on Charlotte and Mr. Bingley.
Beside them, Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley danced well, though Mr. Darcy with odd stiffness, as if his entire form were immune to any sort of joy.
Miss Bingley seemed to have a great deal to say, though, and while Elizabeth could not catch her words, her frequent smiles and ready laughter revealed that Mr. Darcy’s replies entertained her.
Meanwhile, amongst those not dancing, rumors flew.
Already, the populace had Mr. Bingley’s worth at four-thousand a year, and Mr. Darcy’s at anything from six on up to twelve.
Elizabeth couldn’t credit such sums, but were they true, they would explain why Mr. Bingley put up with the man on his sister’s behalf.
A husband with over six thousand a year would certainly remove a great number of worries from a woman’s life.
Still, Elizabeth wrinkled her nose at the idea.
From what she had seen thus far, worries removed could not be worth enduring Mr. Darcy.
Trying to ignore that gentleman’s stiff parody of enjoyment, Elizabeth watched the other dancers. Soon, a smile stole across her features, for Meryton provided a lively community, and enjoying a set from beside her mother was nearly as entertaining as joining in.
When the music stilled, Mr. Bingley scarcely rose from his bow before turning their way. His expression eager, he tucked Charlotte’s arm through his and crossed the room to them.
Charlotte, far from appearing offended by Mr. Bingley’s obvious desire to be rid of her in favor of Jane, hurried to Elizabeth’s side. “Come,” she murmured, laughter dancing along the word. She twined arms, attempting to draw Elizabeth away.
Mrs. Bennet cast them an unconcerned look, not in the habit of caring where Elizabeth went or with whom, then returned her attention to Jane and Mr. Bingley.
Elizabeth would have preferred to remain.
Mr. Goulding approached with Mary and he might very well ask her to dance next.
Though Elizabeth had no interest in Mr. Goulding, she did desire to dance.
Charlotte tugged again, though, insistent.
Turning to her with a look of inquiry, Elizabeth permitted her friend to pull her off to the side of the room.
“Have you met Mr. Darcy?” Charlotte asked.
Elizabeth shook her head. A darted look showed that gentleman once more walked the room with Miss Bingley on his arm. “I have not yet had the displeasure.”
Charlotte’s lips pressed tight over laughter.
“Miss Bingley kept complimenting his dancing, and he would reply with variations of, ‘Certainly I am highly proficient. A Darcy is given every advantage.’” Charlotte chuckled.
“Or, ‘A Darcy receives the benefit of the very best instructors, though not even they have my natural ability.’ You should have heard him. I have never met anyone so adept at aggrandizing himself.”
“Truly?” Amusement came to life in Elizabeth, removing a lingering trace of annoyance at not being permitted to dance with Mr. Goulding, who now partnered Kitty. “The man sounds insufferable.”
“He is too entertaining to be insufferable,” Charlotte responded with a laugh.
“Hush,” Elizabeth whispered, trying to school her features. “He is coming this way.”
Charlotte turned and, shoulder to shoulder, they watched as Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley swept down the side of the room.
Even before they drew near enough for Elizabeth to hear them, she could read from the movement of their mouths that they employed words such as, ‘provincial,’ and, ‘backwater.’ In their wake, frowns blossomed like morning glories hit by the first rays of the sun.
As the two drew nearer still, Miss Bingley’s attention caught on Elizabeth and Charlotte. Turning to her companion, she said, “Had you not better dance than walk with me, Mr. Darcy? There are so many un-partnered ladies standing about.”
“At such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable, and I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men.”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, not troubling to hide her surprise, for he looked directly at her and Charlotte as he and Miss Bingley strode past. He could not suppose his words to go unheard.
“Oh, come now, Mr. Darcy, they are not all slighted.” Unlike her words, Miss Bingley’s voice held no chiding, only amusement, and the back of her head, now presented to Elizabeth and Charlotte as she and Mr. Darcy walked on, offered no insight into the seriousness of her rebuke.
“Miss Bennet is striking, in a countrified sort of way, and has stood out only one set so far. She, at least, is worth dancing with.”
As there had been but one full set since their arrival, and Charlotte had danced it with Mr. Bingley while Jane stood out, Elizabeth found that statement exceedingly nonsensical. She studied Mr. Darcy’s and Miss Bingley’s retreating backs with amusement.
“I have danced once already with you, and your sister is engaged,” Mr. Darcy declared. “There is no other woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with. Certainly, none are handsome enough to tempt me.”
A snort came from Charlotte and Elizabeth looked to see her friend clamp her hands over her mouth, trying to keep in her mirth. Elizabeth shook her head, smiling, and mouthed, ‘insupportable.’ Charlotte’s eyes danced.
As soon as the two were far enough away, for she was not as rude as they were, Elizabeth gave in to her laughter. She shook her head again, unable to find the breath to form words, such was her amusement.
“You are not handsome enough to tempt me, Miss Elizabeth,” Charlotte whispered, a chuckle rattling her artificially deepened voice. “Not even Miss Bennet is.”
“I should say not, when he has such a perfect match in Miss Bingley,” Elizabeth replied, dashing tears from her eyes.
“Oh, but he will be the talk of Meryton, that Mr. Darcy.” Charlotte turned her head to track his progress about the room with Miss Bingley. “I should not wonder if rumors of such boorish behavior do not reach all the way to London.”
“From this provincial, countryfied backwater?” Elizabeth asked on a laugh.
“Yes, even from here,” Charlotte agreed.
Elizabeth watched the two gambol on, stirring more frowns in their wake. “Well, one thing we can say for Mr. Darcy, he is no sycophant.”
“True,” Charlotte agreed.
But sycophant or not, why go out of his way to insult an entire community? With behavior so horrendous, word truly would reach all the way to London. Was Mr. Darcy so very wealthy that he simply did not care?