Chapter Five #2
As Miss Steele dabbed theatrically at her perfectly dry eyes, displaying a handkerchief that bore Edward Ferrars’s initials, Mrs. Jennings demanded to know what they were speaking of.
“Only that I dearly wish we could accompany you tonight,” she cried.
“Surely Mrs. Palmer would not mind if I accompanied you, instead, ma’am. ”
“Lucy, really!” Mrs. Palmer gave a burst of astonished laughter.
Mrs. Jennings began to fret. “I should not wish to vex Mrs. Ferrars by putting her table out. I have already asked if Mrs. Gardiner might join us, and to balance the numbers she asked Colonel Brandon.”
“But surely Jane will not be able to attend,” Miss Steele sniffed. “I can take her place.”
Jane looked up from her book, then set it aside and stepped hesitantly toward them. ”I am perfectly well enough to attend. It is a seated dinner, after all; I shall only take a few steps here and there, and I shall have Lizzy and Aunt Madeline.”
Elizabeth and her sister shared a smile.
She was pleased that Jane was indeed able to walk, and though she feared that any greater exertion than stepping across the parlor would delay her full recovery, she was sure that Jane shared her wish to hinder Miss Steele’s schemes.
How could they sit idly by while the minx employed an arsenal of mean stratagems to keep her claws in the man Elinor loved?
Miss Steele sulked for the remainder of the visit, but Elizabeth was fortunately spared any further syrupy insinuations. Colonel Brandon came to her rescue and asked her to perform at the pianoforte.
“I hear you play as beautifully as your cousin, Miss Marianne,” he said, holding Elizabeth’s gaze as he bowed his head and helped her to her feet.
“She will surely require you to turn the pages for her,” Mrs. Jennings teased, tapping him with her fan as he moved past her to escort Elizabeth to the instrument.
Colonel Brandon was attentive and obliging, turning the pages for Elizabeth and listening with visible appreciation, though she made several errors in her performance.
It was inevitable, for she was entirely distracted as Mrs. Jennings began to speculate that the colonel may have his head turned by another lovely songbird.
He made an equally agreeable dinner companion that evening, and Elizabeth was grateful to have him by her side for the meal.
She had made it through the mortifying tedium of being presented to the brothers Ferrars and Mr. Anthony Morton, three gentlemen who vastly overestimated their own personal charms, when the final guests arrived just as they were going through to the dining room.
Elizabeth did not notice Mr. Darcy until he took a seat further up the table, with a pretty young lady that she presumed to be his sister at his side.
Thankfully, he was far enough removed from her that they would not be obliged to speak, and she smiled merrily as Mrs. Ferrars scolded him for his tardiness.
“And where is your cousin the viscount? I had quite depended on hearing him sing for us all this evening! I am quite put out!”
“He is singing to his little Phoebe,” Mr. Darcy said. “His eldest daughter is feeling poorly, and he could not bear to leave her.”
“A daughter can be nothing to a father! There must be a first-rate nanny at Matlock House.”
“Oh, but she cried and cried for him – it nearly broke my heart,” Miss Darcy sighed. “But he has promised to be at the ball tomorrow.”
The topic of the upcoming ball was a favorite of all the guests over the course of the meal. Feeling Mr. Darcy’s gaze often upon her, Elizabeth took every opportunity of telling her companions how fond she was of dancing, though she could promise only to be a tolerable partner.
She felt this was perfectly fair, for the gentlemen on either side of her, who had both asked for one of her dances at the ball, were only tolerable dinner companions.
Robert Ferrars was ready to recommend himself to Elizabeth, and also to Jane, who was seated on his other side.
But though he was eager to please, he was rather lacking in the execution of his pleasantries.
He took to a variety of subjects with alacrity, and seemed always to have a great deal to say, without conveying much beyond his own ignorance.
It was a delight to Elizabeth, in a study of human folly, but one of which a little went a long way.
Colonel Brandon spoke far less, despite being a gentleman whom Elizabeth could reasonably suppose might have far more to say that was interesting and rational.
He was not silent and brooding like Mr. Darcy, but seemed to say less out of a desire to only make thoughtful remarks to his companions, a desire which was not espoused by any of the other gentlemen at the table.
Mr. Morton was determined to recommend himself to Jane, having undoubtedly been made aware of all that she was to inherit.
Mrs. Ferrars clearly expected her eldest son to impress Miss Morton, a young lady who was not unkind, but far from inspiring any devotion that had not been commanded by a guardian.
Mr. Robert Ferrars, Elizabeth suspected, had been similarly urged to pay his attentions to herself, and he was either entirely unaware or unbothered by his utter failure in that regard.
In between his occasional inanities, at which she smiled as she imagined him conversing with her late cousin Collins, Elizabeth spoke chiefly with her Aunt Madeline.
Though Elizabeth mourned her uncle and felt sure that she would miss his cheerful affection all her days, she was pleased to see that her aunt was beginning to emerge from the shade of her grief.
Elizabeth wished for her aunt to return to herself, and not only because the two women, though ten years apart in age, were similar in their dispositions.
“I am delighted that you were willing to allow Julia to remain at Longbourn,” Elizabeth told her aunt. “Not to say that I do not enjoy her company, but she is the same age as Margaret, which must be a joy to her.”
Mrs. Gardiner’s countenance brightened. “Very much so, I believe. They have both lost their fathers, and I believe poor Meg sometimes feels excluded by her elder sisters. It is a fine thing that they should have one another, and I have a suspicion that Lydia may fall in with them, for yesterday she seemed to fall out with Maria Lucas.”
“Oh dear! What happened?”
“The entire Lucas family seems to resent the Bennets, after Mr. Collins’s death, and that other matter we all discussed.”
Elizabeth gave a huff of indignation at the recollection of her last encounter with Charlotte, and then she noticed the colonel observing them. “Forgive us, sir – it is terribly rude to engage in family gossip that you cannot wish to hear.”
“I have no objection,” he said with a polite smile. “I understand you come from a very large family. I must apologize that I was not able to call on you properly while the Dashwoods were amongst you.”
“If you have occasion to travel north again in the next month, my cousin Margaret thinks very highly of you, as do my aunt and other cousins.”
His smile brightened. “It is a fine thing that your youngest cousin was born a girl, else your aunt might be raising a pirate. I understand your own daughter is the same age, Mrs. Gardiner.”
“She is, though rather less interested in piracy,” Mrs. Gardiner said with an arch look.
“My father may begin to see the allure of taking to the high seas, after a month of Longbourn so full of ladies. Mamma, his sister Aunt Maggie, my four cousins and three sisters! Poor Papa – I am surprised I have not received a letter full of his complaints already!”
The colonel gave them a wistful smile. “Perhaps he has considered it a blessing to have a home so full.”
“The only thing Papa wishes his house to be full of is more books,” Elizabeth said with a laugh. “But had we a larger library, I am sure I should only grow more satirical from reading.”
“Then I shall declare your father’s library must be the perfect size,” Colonel Brandon said smoothly. Beside him, Mrs. Gardiner raised her brows and made a droll face at Elizabeth, as if ready to presume a great deal from the compliment.
Elizabeth ignored this. She was content to speak of books for the rest of the meal, though she glanced occasionally in Jane’s direction.
Her sister did not appear distressed by the gentlemen around her, and spoke chiefly with Miss Darcy across the table.
The girl whom Mr. Wickham had described as cold and proud seemed quite the reverse, and though Jane suffered the scrutiny of Mr. Darcy as he observed their conversation, the two young ladies seemed to be enjoying themselves.
After their meal, when the gentlemen joined the ladies in the withdrawing room, both Jane and Elizabeth were obliged to converse with those whom they most wished to avoid.
Mrs. Ferrars commanded Miss Morton to amaze them all with a performance at the pianoforte, and Robert Ferrars was praising her admirably enough for both of the brothers.
Mrs. Ferrars listened politely for a minute or two before becoming engrossed in a game of cards with Lord and Lady Morton and Mrs. Dashwood, and when she was distracted Edward Ferrars moved to sit with Jane and Elizabeth.
“How fare your cousins in Hertfordshire? Have you had any news of them since coming to London?”
“We parted with them only four days ago,” Elizabeth said. “Though I may wish for them to have an exciting enough stay at Longbourn to write so soon, I do not think it likely.”
“I see. And have your four days in London been exciting enough? Have you any stories yet to tell?”