Chapter Seven
Elizabeth found that it was perfectly possible to avoid a gentleman in a house of moderate size, provided one was willing to appear very busy, very forgetful, or very much attached to fresh air.
For three days she had managed it with tolerable success.
She went out when Mr Darcy was within doors, and remained within when he walked.
She sat beside Jane when the whole party was assembled, and beside her mother when Jane was too thoroughly occupied by Mr Bingley to be of any use.
She accepted Mrs Makepeace’s errands with unusual gratitude, discovered a sudden interest in the shops, and once spent nearly twenty minutes examining ribbons she had no intention of buying because she had seen Mr Darcy’s dark coat pass along the opposite side of the street and had not felt equal to the possibility of meeting him.
This was not avoidance. It was prudence. She had always valued prudence in others and could not see why she should be denied the comfort of it herself.
Unfortunately, prudence did not sit easily upon her. By the third morning she had begun to feel cross with everyone, including herself. Mr Darcy had been rude, and if he regretted it, as Jane insisted he must, he had not yet found an opportunity, or perhaps the courage, to say so.
Miss Darcy had not appeared at dinner on the day of the unfortunate scene and had been pale and silent since.
Mrs Bennet had sat with her a good deal, speaking in that newly softened way of hers that Elizabeth found both comforting and painful to observe.
Her mother had not asked questions, at least not the sort most people would call questions.
She had spoken of bonnets, of the weather and of whether blue was kinder than green to a fair complexion.
Her mother, whom she had so often laughed at, had understood how to connect with this reticent girl with quiet grace and understanding.
Jane, of course, had noticed everything.
"You are very restless this morning, Lizzy,” she said, as Elizabeth tied and untied the same bonnet ribbon for the third time.
"I am not restless. I am correcting a defect in the knot.”
"It was a very good knot before you corrected it.”
"It had pretensions beyond its station.”
Jane smiled into her teacup. "And are you intending to come down, or do you mean to remain here and wage war upon your bonnet until luncheon?”
Elizabeth pulled the ribbon rather tighter than necessary. "I am coming.”
"You need not be afraid of Mr Darcy.”
"I am not afraid of Mr Darcy.”
"No, dearest, I know you are not. But you are angry with him, and it is a fruitless endeavour to hold onto it forever.”
"I find it very convenient indeed.”
Jane only looked at her with a tenderness Elizabeth did not at all deserve, then went downstairs ahead of her.
By the time Elizabeth followed, the house was already awake.
She could hear Mrs Makepeace giving directions somewhere below.
From the small upstairs parlour came her mother’s voice, brighter than it had been at Longbourn for many months, though not restored to its old ungoverned pitch.
It rose and fell in conversation with Miss Darcy’s softer replies.
The breakfast-room lay downstairs at the front of the house, across a narrow passage where the morning light entered from a window overlooking the street. Elizabeth was almost at the door when she heard Mr Bingley’s voice within and slowed without meaning to.
"I know very well that I sound ridiculous, Darcy, and I would be obliged if you would not look as though you had discovered it before I did. I am perfectly aware of my own absurdity. I have been aware of it since yesterday afternoon, when Miss Bennet observed that the colour of the sea had altered with the clouds and I found myself prepared to listen to her upon the subject for the rest of my natural life.”
Elizabeth smiled.
Mr Darcy said something too low for her to catch.
"No, no, you may laugh, but I assure you I am in earnest. I have met beautiful women before. I have admired them. I have danced with them, talked with them, thought myself very much in love with them for an evening, or perhaps two. You need not remind me of Miss Fortescue, for I see her name forming already in your mind, and I tell you in advance that she has nothing to do with it. Miss Fortescue had a very pleasing face and a horrid laugh, which I did not discover until too late. Miss Bennet has the most beautiful face and the sweetest laugh in the world, and if there is any justice in the arrangement of human happiness, that distinction must signify something.”
"It signifies,” said Darcy, with dry amusement, "that you have grown more discriminating in the matter of laughter.”
"Exactly so. I knew you would understand me if you made the effort.”
"I understand that you have known Miss Bennet a very short time.”
"A short time may be very instructive if properly employed.
I have spoken with her every day. I have walked with her, taken tea with her, listened to her speak to Mrs Bennet, to Miss Darcy, to Mrs Makepeace.
Miss Bennet never appears unkind or hurried.
That is what astonishes me. She is not merely polite, or pretty, or agreeable in the usual way.
She has a goodness that seems to move ahead of her and charm every living creature in her wake. "
Elizabeth’s smile softened. She knew precisely what he meant, and loved him a little for seeing it.
Darcy was silent for a moment before answering. "Miss Bennet is indeed a woman of uncommon sweetness.”
"There,” cried Bingley, with delight. "That is something. I had expected a lecture and have received a compliment. Shall I sit down? I feel the shock of it.”
"You are already sitting.”
"Then I shall remain seated, which will serve the same purpose. But you do approve of her?”
"I have said that I esteem her.”
"That is not the same thing. You esteem a well-built stable. You esteem a punctual steward. You esteem neat handwriting. I am asking whether you approve of Miss Bennet as a woman a man might love and build a life with.”
"There are worse ways for a man to employ himself.”
"Darcy!”
"I am not opposing you.”
"You are preparing to oppose me.”
Darcy gave a low laugh, and despite herself Elizabeth remained where she was.
It was not honourable to listen. Yet there was something so open and artless in Mr Bingley’s affection for Jane, and something so unexpectedly gentle in Mr Darcy’s replies, that she could not immediately force herself to interrupt them.
When Darcy spoke again, the amusement had not quite left his voice. "I would only urge caution. You are quick to admire, Bingley, and quicker still to believe that admiration returned. You have often found angels where other men might have been content to discover merely amiable women.”
"That is a cruel description of my past attachments.”
"It is an accurate one.”
"It is accurate only if stated by a man determined to make me appear foolish. Miss Fortescue was very beautiful.”
"And laughed like a badly tuned instrument.”
"I did not know that at first.”
"You might have discovered it sooner had you spoken to her on any subject other than the weather.”
"I was young.”
"I have no wish to see you hurt.”
Elizabeth felt her hand loosen on the doorframe. She had not expected that from him. Or rather she had expected, perhaps, that Mr Darcy was attached to his friend, but not that he would express it so simply.
"I know,” Bingley said, more softly. "And I thank you for it, though it makes you excessively troublesome. But I am not a boy, Darcy. I do not believe every pretty woman an angel merely because she smiles at me. Miss Bennet does not flatter. She does not contrive. If she is pleased, it is because she is pleased. If she listens, it is because she is kind enough to be interested, or to make one feel one has not been entirely ridiculous. I may be hasty, but I am not blind.”
"No,” said Darcy after a pause. "You are not blind.”
"And you think she likes me?”
There was such eagerness in the question that Elizabeth’s heart gave a small, fond twist.
"I think,” Darcy replied, "that Miss Bennet distinguishes you from other men.”
Bingley gave a sound of such satisfaction that Elizabeth almost laughed aloud.
"Distinguishes me! Good God, Darcy, from you that is a sonnet. I shall preserve the phrase for all my days. I may have it printed on a card to keep by my heart.”
"I beg you will not.”
"No, I shall merely repeat it to myself whenever my spirits require support. Miss Bennet distinguishes me from other men. Upon my word, I feel equal to anything.”
"Then let that be sufficient for the present.”
"For the present, yes. I am not such a fool as to offer myself tomorrow.”
"I am relieved to hear it.”
"I might wait until Friday.”
"Bingley,” said Mr Darcy, in such a way that Elizabeth suspected he was shaking his head.
There was a pause, followed by the faint scrape of china.
Then Bingley spoke again, with a change in his tone. "And what of you?”
Darcy did not answer.
"I have been very patient,” Bingley continued, "and have spoken of my own follies at length, partly because they interest me exceedingly, and partly because you have the look of a man who prefers any subject to himself. But I am not so absorbed in Miss Bennet as to have lost all power of observation.”
"I have no idea what you mean.”
"My dear Darcy, that has never answered with me and I wonder you still attempt it. I mean Miss Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth’s breath caught in her chest.
At last Darcy said, "Miss Elizabeth is a young woman of lively understanding.”