Chapter Sixteen #3
“It is very likely that when I am reunited with them, I shall intend never to part with them,” Elizabeth agreed with a smile she hoped was vaguely ominous.
“But your brother’s engagement must be the talk of Highbury!
He is marrying up, to be sure, and I understand his betrothal came about even more swiftly than your own hasty engagement.
If the village gossips here are anything like those of Meryton, they will be placing bets on which union yields a child first. But as I grow to understand your character, Miss Bingley, I daresay my money will always be on you. ”
Miss Bingley took a little longer to recover from her affront this time, but at last she schooled her countenance into a sneer.
“Naturally, you are aware of how desperately your guardian desires a true child of his own – a son. I shall care little for the tiresome, whispering wretches when I grant his great desire.”
“Yes, I am sure that will be a great accomplishment for you,” Elizabeth agreed.
“When Lady Amelia did not oblige Papa, he grew to utterly despise her, and no amount of fortune could be her consolation when her wiles no longer beguiled my father. But perhaps you are fonder of quiet country life than she was.”
Elizabeth stood and crossed the room to speak with Charlotte.
She repeated all her barbs, to Charlotte’s delight, and made no attempt to conceal from Miss Bingley that they were speaking of her with great amusement.
Miss Bingley joined Mrs. Hurst in a huff of vexation, and the sisters began their own scheming whispers.
The gentlemen spooned joined the ladies, and Mr. Bingley declared that he was of a mind for some music. “Do you play the pianoforte Miss Bennet, Miss Lucas? As dearest friends you must surely have learned a duet or two together.”
At the same moment that Charlotte began to cry off, Elizabeth answered honestly, in the affirmative. Mr. Bingley looked confused, but smiled brightly as he gazed between them. “Well, if either or both of you wished to delight us, I should be happy to hear you.”
Elizabeth tugged at Charlotte’s hand. “My friend will sing and I will play for you.”
Even as Elizabeth spoke, Miss Bingley admonished her brother. “Do not force Miss Eliza if she does not wish to; I am sure it will only make her churlish.”
Now Elizabeth must play. She led Charlotte toward the instrument, and Charlotte leaned in to whisper to her. “Lizzy, she has heard Jane’s style of performance.”
Elizabeth breathed out a rueful laugh. “No wonder she wished me not to exhibit!” Elizabeth was sorry that she would now give a much poorer performance than her rival expected; she could only hope that Miss Bingley presumed Elizabeth did so only to vex her.
Mr. Darcy pursued her to the instrument, offering to turn the pages for Elizabeth.
She had the satisfaction of shocking him by selecting a piece that was rather juvenile and even a little bawdy, but she was determined to turn her unpolished playing to some advantage in mortifying Miss Bingley.
Charlotte betrayed a modicum of surprise, but her lips twisted into an indulgent smile before she began to sing.
Elizabeth played largely from memory, for she and her friend had often sung this and other such songs when Charlotte wished to dismay her mother. Still, she focused on the movement of her fingers over the keys for a minute or two before she could look up at Mr. Darcy.
He smiled softly when she finally met his eye. “What is your impression of Miss Bingley?”
“That my father belongs in Bedlam,” she whispered, letting her eyes convert all her mischievous delight in facing such a challenge.
He subtly betrayed a modicum of amusement. “And shall you think me mad, for wishing you every success?”
“Oh, I always think it is perfectly rational when somebody agrees with me,” she quipped.
“Oh, I do hope I am in my right mind,” he said flatly. “Else I have been completely taken in.”
“How contrary of you to cling to your suspicions of me, Mr. Darcy, when I have been so very transparent with you.”
His chest rumbled with hushed laughter. “I recall you asking me directly if I supposed you were an identical copy of Jane Fairfax, come to Highbury to wreak havoc, and you fairly baited in me to saying that this would be absurd .”
“You ought to know that absurdities delight me, sir. The follies and foibles of others, and every manner of whimsy. And I cannot recall denying that particular piece of preposterous madness.”
“Do you deny that you have been laughing at me for the last week?”
“Oh, no; surely we are past deceit, sir.”
Mr. Darcy beheld her boldness with shock, but he did not seem displeased with her. “Then I have every reason to believe you will easily succeed in your scheme, for in laughing at me freely, you seem to have a keen eye for identifying just how to needle a new acquaintance.”
Elizabeth smiled at the disconcerting effect she had on Mr. Darcy, still convinced he rather deserved it after the hauteur he had shown in the earliest days of their acquaintance.
She said nothing else as she and Charlotte concluded their song, and then the friends were rewarded with Miss Bingley’s indignant applause.
Mr. Bennet appeared vastly diverted by their performance; Miss Bingley looked mortified. She stood hastily and moved to the instrument. “Perhaps something a little more refined? I know all your favorites, my dear Mr. Bennet.”
When Elizabeth made way for Miss Bingley, Mr. Darcy pursued her to the other end of the parlor. She fixed him with a teasing look. “I must be a great curiosity to you, sir.”
“I have never met an identical twin, much less one with a devious yet oddly romantic plan.”
Elizabeth subtly gestured for Mr. Darcy to match her whispering tone. “And what is it that fascinates you? The deceit, the oddity, or the romance?”
His smile turned wistful. “The romance – do I shock you?”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Do you wish to?”
His eyes widened for a moment, and he shifted uncomfortably on the sofa beside her. “I would help you, if I can. I rather admire your motive, though after my regrettable insults, you have every right to doubt my sincerity.”
“Such contrition will never do: you must continue to vex me, sir, though I do not see how that would prevent you from being of great assistance. But why should you help me?”
Mr. Darcy’s handsome face was shaded by something terribly serious, which Elizabeth dearly wished to tease away. “I can understand the impulse to wish one’s parents a felicitous union. If there had been anything I could have done for my own parents, I would have devoted myself to the endeavor.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth smiled sadly at him. “Were your parents unhappy?”
“I believe they each took pleasure in their children, as your parents have done separately," he whispered. “Together, they were as unsuited as any two people could be.”
Elizabeth offered him a look of commiseration. “I am sorry.”
“My father did his duty, and with perfect honor and loyalty, but there was always a great sadness about him. My mother, on the other hand, was always merry, but always in the society of others. Balls and parties, traveling with friends and relations; she was devoted to my father only in her assiduous avoidance of being alone with him. I believe your father and Miss Bingley may face such a future as this, and I would not wish you the pain of watching it slowly eat away at what you love about him.”
Elizabeth’s hand twitched at her side, and she nearly moved it to rest at his, which was inches away.
She extended her little finger toward him for a moment and then swiftly brought her hands into her lap.
“I have only had a week with my mother; I wonder if she and my father are also too different.”
“Something must have drawn them together all those years ago,” Mr. Darcy said simply, his gaze fixed on her hands. “You need only discover what that was, and guide them toward rekindling it.”
“That is very wise, Mr. Darcy. You are resolved to shock me in equal measure, it seems, for I had not thought you believed me capable of such accomplishment .”
“Pah, you shall have to be content to chide me about that unfortunate conversation because I am resolved to vex you no further – I see what mischief awaits those who oppose you.”
“Then I shall have to content myself with having you as an ally,” Elizabeth said warmly.
He looked up with hope in his gaze, and she found herself leaning toward him a little as she stared into his eyes. “I am at your service,” he murmured.
Their companions applauded as Miss Bingley finished her performance, and Mrs. Hurst was the next to entertain them with a concerto.
Elizabeth wished to continue speaking with Mr. Darcy, but she felt terribly self-conscious at his proximity.
She was all too aware of his broad shoulders, and the recollection of the muscles she had felt in his chest when she had shoved him out of their embrace in the grove.
They sat in easy silence together, and at the end of Mrs. Hurst’s performance, that lady glanced over at her snoring husband and declared they must all be tired from their travels.
As they all made their way to their guest rooms, Miss Bingley pursued Elizabeth to the door of her chamber. “A word, Eliza?”
Elizabeth yawned with great exaggeration. “Exhausted,” she said, giving Miss Bingley only that one word.
“No doubt your exertions in the drawing room have left you depleted. But a word of warning, my dear. I do have every hope of your making a fine match, and soon, but you would do better to look elsewhere.”
“I am not looking anywhere at all,” Elizabeth said.
Miss Bingley narrowed her eyes and stalked closer to Elizabeth. “Your fortune might be grand enough for many gentlemen to overlook your tragic origins, but such men as Darcy require a vast deal more than forward manners, Eliza; you aim too high.”
“He has no qualms in befriending your brother, the son of a tradesman – that hardly suggests he is a man of exacting standards.” Elizabeth smiled to herself as it occurred to her that Miss Bingley may have cherished some hopes of her own concerning her brother’s friend.
“Six months ago, I might have agreed with you,” Miss Bingley said. “Unfortunately, I feel bound to inform you that I have heard a most alarming report of his character from someone closely connected to him.”
“What a fine maternal instinct you demonstrate, in seeking to protect me already,” Elizabeth said sweetly.
“I am to be your step-mother; prudence demands I prevent any family connection to a man who would defy his own father’s dying wish in an infamous manner, and cheat a friend he had known all his life.”
“Surely your brother would have nothing to do with such a person. I know you are of such a yielding disposition that you must be guided by his trust in that gentleman.”
Miss Bingley grimaced. “Poor Charles is far too disposed to see good in everybody, and alas this world is too full of those who are prone to take advantage wherever they can.”
“What a delight to be in complete agreement, Miss Bingley. I thank you for your information, and now I will bid you goodnight.”
“Do you not wish to know what I refer to?”
Elizabeth yawned in earnest and shook her head. “You have convinced me already; clearly I must reflect at length before I entertain any thoughts of matrimony.”
In truth, she felt no little curiosity about the matter Miss Bingley hinted at, but the lady fairly reeked of bitterness, and Elizabeth would sooner have all the facts from Mr. Darcy himself.
They had shared confidences with uncommon ease already, and she began to think he had such a wealth of experience in disliking Miss Bingley that he would make an eminently suitable ally.
At the very least, she would make him laugh again when she gave him an account of Miss Bingley’s warning, and she drifted to sleep in merry anticipation of another of the smiles that rendered him so terribly handsome.