Chapter Nine #2
Darcy paused in thought for a long moment, then answered.
“I find that conversation with most people I do not know well often feels like a performance, and one must choose every word with care. It is exhausting. But you…with you I forget to be careful, because you never seek to impress me. In fact, I am certain the idea has never even occurred to you. You look entirely baffled by the idea.”
“That must be refreshing.” Elizabeth was blushing to her roots now. “I assure you it is entirely–”
“Unintentional? Yes, that is what makes your company even more refreshing…and more restful than that of other ladies.” Darcy said.
“Then I shall endeavour not to abuse your good opinion.” She wished she knew what he was thinking. No man who was not her father or uncle had ever spoken so openly with her before.
"I doubt that you could,” he declared with a broad smile, eliciting another from her.
The dance ended, and Elizabeth was momentarily grateful that she need not think of a reply.
She curtsied as Mr Darcy bowed to her, then she smiled her acceptance at a gentleman who presented himself for her next dance.
As they parted, her mind whirled with the strange and unsettling realisation that she felt disappointed by the loss of his hand in hers.
Over the course of the evening, Darcy observed Mrs Bennet and Jane descend upon Elizabeth, obviously furious about his cousin's gown. He watched Elizabeth plead with her mother and sister as he danced with Georgiana, though he did his very best to make his sister’s first dance at a private ball pleasant.
Darcy wondered why Bingley never saw Miss Bennet’s mask slip as he did.
He only knew that Bingley was in the grip of a most powerful infatuation, and that nothing would prevent him from wedding Miss Bennet.
His friend would turn away from every friend or relative who spoke the most innocent word against the woman.
He proved that by his behaviour to his sister, who–Darcy suspected–had told at least part of the truth for once.
Darcy would not risk his friendship by speaking out against Miss Bennet.
Bingley would have to be allowed to make whatever mistake he was set upon.
His supper dance with Elizabeth was as delightful as the first. He had been attempting to decide if he wished to pursue her, or if he wished for her to remain the delightful friend of his sister and cousin, but he was leaning to the former.
It was not often that he even felt blessed with the freedom to make such considerations.
Most women preferred to move straight to compromise or innuendo in town.
This lady’s mother was so preoccupied with the fortunes of her eldest, she had obviously not considered the prospects of her second daughter.
This was another point for which Darcy was infinitely grateful.
Elizabeth sat between himself and Georgiana at supper, and his sister and cousin did much to keep them all conversing animatedly. Near the end of the meal, Miss Mary Bennet stood and said, “Miss Darcy, it is time!”
Georgiana flushed, then rose timidly and hurried with Miss Mary to the pianoforte. With a courage Darcy never knew his sister had, she took a deep breath and stood by the instrument as Sir William Lucas addressed the room.
“Our hostess Mrs Hurst has arranged with Miss Darcy and Miss Mary Bennet to perform this ballad together in honour of Mr Bingley and Miss Bennet’s engagement. May their union be blessed and filled with love and laughter.”
Georgiana and Mary curtsied to Bingley and Miss Bennet, and the two ladies seated themselves and began to play.
Darcy had heard much about Miss Mary from Georgiana.
That her love for music was genuine, and her dedication was strong, but that she suffered from neglect and a lack of proper instruction.
Georgiana thought Miss Mary’s voice would be much stronger if she practiced some techniques that Georgiana had learned from her singing and elocution master, as well as Mrs Annesley, who was quite an accomplished singer.
The two ladies had been hiding in the music room and practicing for weeks, and Georgiana was excited for her new friend’s family and neighbours to hear her improvement, both in her voice, and at the instrument.
The two young ladies began to play and sing together, and their voices filled the room.
What wondrous love is this,
O my soul, O my soul!
What wondrous love is this, O my soul!
What wondrous love is this
that caused the Lord of bliss
To bear the dreadful curse
for my soul, for my soul,
To bear the dreadful curse for my soul.
Darcy had heard Miss Mary sing and play at Longbourn and other homes early in his visit to Hertfordshire, and the difference in her voice was unmistakable. Though their technique was perhaps not precisely perfect, the voices of the two ladies blended quite sweetly, with a charming and pleasant air.
When I was sinking down,
sinking down, sinking down,
When I was sinking down, sinking down,
When I was sinking down
beneath God’s righteous frown,
Christ laid aside His crown
for my soul, for my soul,
Christ laid aside His crown for my soul.
This was a popular new ballad, new lyrics set to an Old English song, and the sheet music was all the rage this year in London. The other guests were smiling, and Darcy noted Elizabeth’s eyes brimming with happy tears, captivated by her younger sister’s joy and song.
To God and to the Lamb,
I will sing, I will sing;
To God–
There was quite a bit more to the song, but it seemed that Miss Bennet did not wish to hear it, for she rose and approached the pianoforte, a serene and seemingly loving smile on her countenance.
“Dearest Sister, what a beautiful engagement present! You sing so very well that I fear we should never wish to hear anything else, if we allow you and dear Miss Darcy to monopolise the instrument.”
Jane smiled modestly, as though embarrassed by her own suggestion. “This evening belongs to everyone. I would hate for our guests to think that we were quite so selfish as to keep them from dancing, as they came to do.”
Bingley laughed as he joined her by the instrument, “That is why I love you, dearest Jane. You always think of others. The sweetest, most thoughtful lady in the world.”
Georgiana's breath caught in a gasp at Jane’s interruption, but Mary stood, smoothing her gown, forcing her countenance into a semblance of composure.
“We certainly would not wish to detain anyone, would we, Georgiana?”
Applause followed, warm applause, and murmurs of appreciation from their neighbours and other guests as the girls left the pianoforte. Jane accepted it, obviously certain it had been meant for her, and more than half of it was.
Mrs Bennet beamed as she clapped with gusto. “My dear Jane is always so considerate of the younger girls and those who love to dance!”
Jane smiled with her usual gentle serenity, glowing in happiness as the room emptied and the guests returned to the ballroom. Only a handful of eyes–those of Elizabeth, Darcy, Georgiana, Priscilla, Mr Collins, and Miss Lucas–followed Mary instead of Bingley and Miss Bennet.
Darcy watched as Priscilla rose, her expression grim.
He had seen the same expression on her brother Richard’s countenance many times, and knew just what it meant.
Miss Bennet had insulted Georgiana. In Priscilla’s presence.
No one in society, nor outside of it had ever had ever been so foolish as to do such a thing before.
Not even Miss Bingley. One might as well slap Lady Jersey in the middle of Almack's.
Elizabeth rose and rushed to Miss Mary, and Darcy put out a hand and laid it on his cousin’s arm. “Priscilla. Please.”
“It cannot go unanswered, Darcy.”
“Of course, but you have other devices at your means. She will be in London in less than a sennight. Pray do not distress Georgie, and further, it might make my sister too afraid to enter society again.” Darcy did not want to see Jane Bennet’s real tears at her own engagement ball, when Priscilla paid her out for her offense.
“Then we leave after breakfast, Darcy. I insist.”
“Prissy, I am meant to stand up with him in only a few days.”
“His brother-in-law is here.” Priscilla folded her arms, her face mutinous. “Do not make me send an express to my mother.”
Darcy sighed. His cousin was correct. As blinded as Bingley was, as unreasonable as he might be if Darcy attempted to speak to him on the matter, it was impossible for them to remain and expose Georgiana to Miss Bennet any longer, nor dignify that lady’s wedding with their attendance after her slight.
“Very well. You are correct, of course,” Darcy acknowledged.
As the dancing resumed, Georgiana and Priscilla said good night to Elizabeth, with Priscilla claiming a headache. The ladies went upstairs to instruct their maids and his valet to pack.