Chapter Eight #4
While Mr. Bingley and Mr. Elton came toward Elizabeth and Emma with affable smiles, Mr. Darcy scowled and skulked nearby, listening to everyone and speaking to nobody.
Elizabeth suspected him of listening to her and Emma in particular, and she kept her voice moderated as she sweetly inquired, “Do I not express myself uncommonly well, Mr. Darcy? Miss Woodhouse has a high estimation of open manners, and I believe she means to accuse me of having kept my frankness a great secret.”
Mr. Darcy looked affronted at her informal address, and stiffened his shoulders. “Miss Woodhouse has known you for many years. She must be well qualified in determining whether you possess some great secret of concern; surely any new acquaintance would have every natural cause for prudence.”
Mr. Darcy gave a slight, stiff bow and then stalked away without awaiting any reply, and Elizabeth could only be grateful for this.
She was too flustered to say anything sensible, but relieved that he would likely think twice before eavesdropping on her again.
She relied on Emma’s startled laughter to mask her own discomposure at the insinuation that she harbored some secret.
“What an infamously rude man,” Emma scoffed.
“I daresay I was right to refuse Mr. Bingley’s invitation to tea, with such a person in residence at his manor – and I shall continue to avoid the place, even with his sister coming to play hostess.
I dare not suppose what sort of harridan she might be, if that is the sort of company Mr. Bingley keeps! ”
Elizabeth frowned. If Mr. Bingley’s sister, who may perhaps be engaged to Mr. Bennet, were half as disagreeable as his friend Mr. Darcy, she and Jane were in trouble, indeed!
But she had no time to dwell on this apprehension, for Mrs. Knightley began playing a lively tune, and Mr. Bingley came to collect Emma, promising Elizabeth he would display himself to every advantage.
Mr. Knightley gave no such assurances when he extended his hand to Elizabeth and led her to join the dance. Instead he apologized for being out of practice, but then proceeded to move with perfect grace which he credited to her own superior abilities.
“I already owe you my thanks,” Elizabeth said. “You defended the ladies very gallantly to Mr. Darcy at dinner.”
“I spoke entirely without exaggeration,” he said warmly. “I have long believed you to be among the finest ladies in the county.”
Elizabeth blushed, fearing there was more than friendliness in his speech.
“And may I ask how well you are acquainted with Mr. Darcy? You arrived with him and Mr. Bingley yesterday, at Hartfield, and Mr. Bingley made some comment that implied an acquaintance with your brother in London. Are they friends of yours?”
“I know Darcy’s cousin, Viscount Matlock; we were at Eton and Cambridge together.
John was the same year as Darcy’s other cousin, the Viscount’s brother Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Through that family, we have met with Darcy occasionally, and John passed on the recommendation of Highbury when Darcy inquired on his friend’s behalf for a suitable manor to rent.
I would not call us friends, but civil acquaintances. ”
“I can hardly see how anybody should call him a friend,” Elizabeth said. She involuntarily glanced in Mr. Darcy’s direction, and he scowled as he met her eye.
Mr. Knightley looked surprised. “Before your return from Weymouth, I might have called your own disposition similar to his – reserved and contemplative.”
“I hope I am still contemplative, despite having grown more animated after such a pleasant holiday. But when I am lost to my thoughts, they are generally kind thoughts. As much as I have traveled, I have never been so displeased with any place that I did nothing but glower and glare at anybody who had the temerity to enjoy themselves.”
Mr. Knightley raised his brows before giving a soft chuckle. “He has offended you.”
“He has, but I will have my revenge by laughing at him. I find the society of Highbury vastly agreeable, and I pity him for denying himself the chance to make merry, as we do.”
“You pity him, but you shall laugh at him anyhow?”
Elizabeth grinned at Mr. Knightley’s ability to find fault with her reasoning. “I can hardly guess which would displease him more, and thus I must attempt both.”
He shook his head with a wry smile. “‘Tis none of my business what might have inspired such a change of your manners in Weymouth, Miss Fairfax, but it is a fine thing – it would not do for you to be daunted by Mr. Darcy’s demeanor. Shall I speak to him about it?”
It was a tempting offer, but one that Elizabeth suspected Jane would never accept. “That is not necessary. I am content to see more of Miss Woodhouse, and of course spend time with my aunt and grandmother. I doubt I shall see much of Mr. Darcy.”
Their conversation turned to happier subjects, but after their dance, Elizabeth observed with dismay as Mr. Knightley approached Mr. Darcy directly.
She could not hear them over the din of the room, but she saw a hardening of Mr. Darcy’s countenance that did not suggest he received Mr. Knightley’s admonitions with any measure of repentance.
Elizabeth was approached by Mr. Bingley, but she was too distracted to do more than nod and smile at his chatter.
She was plagued by a sense of dread at what he had said of his sister, a fear that the brothers Knightley might have some suspicion of her, and the strange nagging in her heart that she had made an enemy of Mr. Darcy.