Chapter 2
For several days, the assembly and Mr Bingley were the most important subjects of conversation.
Charlotte Lucas–a dear friend of Elizabeth–as well as her mother Lady Lucas, agreed that Mr Bingley’s admiration and preference for Jane could not be doubted.
Mrs Bennet was beside herself with joy and admitted that both Lady Lucas and Charlotte were wise women, although neither could be described as handsome.
Elizabeth’s ill feelings about the ball soon disappeared. She was pleased to know her eldest sister had gained the admiration of a worthy gentleman, and that helped her quickly forget a less worthy gentleman’s arrogant offence.
Of Mr Darcy, the general opinion did not improve with time.
He appeared in Meryton only once with his friend and even then he barely took the trouble of speaking more than a few words to anyone.
His fortune was much talked about, his handsomeness was recognised, and his high education presumed from the little people knew of him.
But his arrogance and his apparent unwillingness to improve his acquaintance with anyone made everyone dislike him.
Sir William Lucas was the only one who took Mr Darcy's side.
“I had the honour of meeting many members of the ton when I was presented at St. James’, and I observed that pride and aloofness are not rare traits among them. And why would they not be, if they were blessed with everything one can hope for? Mr Darcy seems to have it all, truly.”
Mrs Bennet completely disagreed with him.
“One can be wealthy and important, yet amiable and friendly enough. He is not. In fact, I could say he is the last man in the world I could call either. I am glad I had the chance to speak to him and give him a piece of my mind. He is truly the least agreeable man I have ever known.”
“Mama, I assure you I do not care about his offence. You should not trouble yourself so much and we would do well to forget it.”
“Well, I do care. I took it as a personal insult and forgetting it is impossible. He has much to do to redeem himself in my eyes.”
“I doubt that will happen, or that he would have any interest in redeeming himself to you," Elizabeth concluded, hoping Mrs Bennet might put the whole incident aside soon enough.
The more her neighbours and her mother loathed Mr Darcy, the more Elizabeth found amusement in the situation.
Her opinion of Mr Darcy was too low to give his words much consequence and his refusal to dance with her she considered fortunate.
It was dreadful to even imagine being trapped with such a haughty man for half an hour.
She had seen him dancing with his friend’s sisters and, while his dancing skills were quite proficient, he appeared to be as silent and unpleasant with his intimate acquaintances as he was with those he had just met.
Happily, she did not see him much in the days following the assembly.
However, one morning when she was enjoying her usual, solitary walk towards Oakham Mount she was stunned to find the very same Mr Darcy, sitting on the grass, lost in his thoughts, staring out across the valley.
He had taken off his coat and hat, so his appearance was far from formal.
Elizabeth observed him and recognised him only when she was too close to leave unnoticed.
Furthermore, his horse and his dog, also both dark and of impressive stature, reacted to her presence, causing him to turn and face her.
He quickly jumped to his feet, brushed his hands over his trousers, and bowed to her.
Surprise kept Elizabeth silent and still, while he seemed embarrassed and uncertain of how to proceed.
Only then did she remember that they had not been properly introduced, so he was a stranger to her.
A stranger who had offended her without even knowing her, and who had been accordingly scolded by her mother.
She felt a smile spreading across her face.
Opposite her, Darcy looked disconcerted by her amusement and equally embarrassed by their solitary encounter.
“Miss Bennet, if I recall correctly?” he said, bowing again. “Good morning, ma’am. I am Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
“Indeed. Good morning, Mr Darcy. One can hardly doubt your identity, sir,” she replied.
“I apologise for my appearance, Miss Bennet. I did not expect company at this early hour and in this secluded place.”
“You must not worry, I am most certainly no company for you. I am as surprised as you are to meet someone here. I have been regularly walking these paths for several years and this is the first time I have happened upon someone. I shall leave you now.”
"Please do not leave because of me, ma'am."
"Rest assured that I would not leave because of you. But I know these grounds well enough and I can find another path so we both can enjoy our solitude."
"You may enjoy this place–I must return to Netherfield anyway. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bennet."
"Likewise, sir. I hope you found your morning ride tolerable enough," she said, unable to refrain from taking some small revenge.
He stared at her, recognising the comment and his face changed colour.
Then he bowed and turned to mount in some haste.
“Mr Darcy!” Elizabeth called to him. He looked at her, puzzled, waiting for her to continue. His apparent uneasiness amused her and gave her a strange feeling of satisfaction.
“Mr Darcy, you should be careful if you plan to ride towards Netherfield–the ground is very unsteady for horses.”
He did not expect that, and his answer sounded colder than he would have wished. “I thank you for your care, but I assure you it is not needed. I am an excellent rider.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“Of course you are, sir. My main concern was for the horse’s safety. Have a pleasant day.”
She started to walk in the opposite direction and quickened her pace, completely oblivious to Darcy’s astonished and intrigued gaze.
For a while it was quiet so she could not say if he had followed her advice about not riding down the hill.
Mostly likely not–he surely did not care for her suggestion, or for the well-being of his horse.
If Elizabeth had any remaining doubts they were all gone.
Mr Darcy was as unpleasant as he was ridiculously proud and haughty.
If she never saw him again, it might still be too soon.
However, being Mr Bingley’s friend, it was difficult to imagine such a happy turn of events.
The pleasant company of Mr Bingley would probably come accompanied by Mr Darcy’s unpleasant presence.
Or perhaps he had some business to attend and would leave Hertfordshire soon, to everyone’s relief.
Little could she imagine the strong impression their short exchange had made upon the gentleman.
Her lively, daring spirit sparkled even in that brief conversation and he found himself regretting that he had not stayed longer.
If he had had more time to recover from the surprise, he would have certainly apologised for offending her at the ball–something that she had obviously heard and held against him.
Understandably so, as he had been truly rude.
Darcy barely remembered Elizabeth’s features from the ball, and he had to guess her identity.
In those few minutes he had only enough time to observe her cheeks coloured by exercise, the sharp brightness that lit her eyes, the challenging lift of her right eyebrow, and the mischievous smile that twisted her pink lips.
She looked quite displeased to see him and even more so after their brief conversation, but she certainly enjoyed scolding him for the past offensive remark and for his present foolish and arrogant statement regarding his riding abilities.
How could he have said he was an excellent rider? That was truly childish and had to be corrected as soon as possible.
Three things bothered Fitzwilliam Darcy as he took the reins of his stallion and walked carefully down the path towards Netherfield, followed by his horse and his dog: that Miss Bennet was brave enough to walk alone such a distance from her house; that she was either unaware or completely indifferent to his situation in life and disliked him utterly; and that she had already occupied his thoughts and piqued his curiosity more than any other young lady ever had.
He recollected her mother’s words about “Lizzy” being very clever and about her tendency to run across the fields and climb trees–and he found himself smiling as he entered the main gate of the manor.
Even later that evening, the meeting was still vivid in his mind and he went to bed wondering why he refused to dance with her.
He still had not studied her features thoroughly, but he could see they were far from perfect. She was certainly not a classic beauty by society’s standards–but it was surely a sort of beauty that was not easy to forget. Definitely more than tolerable.
∞∞∞
Elizabeth did not mention the brief encounter with Mr Darcy to anyone except Jane. She wished to avoid other discussions and arguments that could make Mr Bingley uncomfortable and jeopardise her sister’s new relationship.
The master of Netherfield called on the master of Longbourn twice, but he only spent time in the library, without the pleasure of the ladies' company. But they had the advantage of seeing him from the window and admiring once again his excellent posture and apparent riding skills.
Mr Bennet's opinion about their neighbour was entirely positive too, so Mr Bingley was a subject allowed and encouraged at any time of day, among the family or with their friends from Meryton.
Of all the sisters, Jane was the most restrained and only opened her heart to Elizabeth.
“Dear Lizzy, he is indeed everything I have ever desired to find in a man. Am I wrong to admire him although we barely know each other?”
“You are not wrong at all, dearest. I give you permission to like him–you have liked others less worthy and less handsome.”