Chapter Fourteen #5
“I am afraid it would be terribly selfish to dwell upon my own feelings, when I am not the only person affected. I believe Edward must be truly unhappy, his behavior has made Jane exceedingly uncomfortable, Miss Steele may discover that she has pinned the hopes of four long years on him for it all to come to nothing, and I know my mother and sisters worry terribly for me – I hate that I should give them pain, when the last year has already brought us so much sorrow.”
The colonel stood and began to pace. “He knows Darcy, eh? Perhaps I ought to write to my cousin and demand he give the fellow a sound thrashing! Forgive me, Miss Dashwood, but if you will not think of yourself, I must be outraged for you. You have been very-ill used, but there may yet be some justice in this world.”
“No, please,” Elinor said calmly, rising to her feet and taking a step toward him. She laid a hand on his arm to still his pacing. “To be so reliant on the whims of his mother must be punishment enough for him, and even that I pity.”
He covered her hand with his. “You are too good, Miss Dashwood. But you must allow me to speak to Sir William Lucas about his wife’s remarks.
My sister is Bingley’s hostess, and neither of them would have allowed such cruelty to go unanswered, if they had heard it.
And you, of all people, who showed Miss Maria such conciliatory kindness – it is not right! ”
Elinor sucked in a shaky breath; she was greatly affected by the fervor of his words, for she had never before been defended so boldly. “Very well,” she said.
His countenance softened at once, and he brought her hand to his lips. “Thank you; I believe you comprehend that I hate to be idle, when I might be of service. Fitzwilliams do love to be useful.”
Elinor stared at her hand, feeling a phantom trace of his lips where they had brushed her skin, but then she beheld his droll expression and laughed. “Tonight has certainly taught me that, and I quite admire this family trait.”
He raised a finger to his lips and winked. “Never tell Rebecca.”
Elinor smoothed out her dress, suddenly nervous at the prospect of returning to the dining room, and reluctant to part with the colonel’s sole company. And then her mother stepped into the room and cleared her throat.
“Forgive me, but I hear the other ladies coming; they must be withdrawing to the parlor. I have been waiting in the corridor, but for propriety we shall say that I have been with you. Elinor looks quite recovered, Colonel – you have my thanks.”
The colonel gave Mrs. Dashwood a deep bow and one of his most dashing smiles before taking his leave.
Elinor supposed that he meant to join the gentlemen for cigars and brandy after the meal, but not long after she and her mother accompanied the other ladies to the parlor, the colonel entered the room.
He approached Elinor with a small plate of apple tarts and beckoned for her to join him at a nearby table which was almost entirely occupied by a large chessboard. “Do you play?”
“A little – not since my father – I may be sadly out of practice.”
“An ideal opponent, then,” he said with a grin, as he pulled out her chair for her. “Perhaps this will inspire you, for we both missed the dessert course, which is my favorite. I am fond of sweet things.”
Elinor gaped at him as he sat down across from her and placed the plate of apple tarts beside the chessboard.
She was not surprised that he should flirt with her, for he struck her as the sort of gentleman to whom such banter came naturally, but it was another thing entirely that he should forgo the company of the other gentlemen and then single her out before all the ladies.
It was likely only a gallant gesture meant to cheer her, but Elinor was grateful nonetheless.
***
Marianne exchanged a significant look with her mother as the ladies entered the parlor, and again when the colonel joined Elinor at the chess board.
She had promised not to give voice to any speculation, but surely she was entitled to think what she pleased – and such thoughts of the colonel’s attention to her sister did indeed please her.
Her mother came to sit with her, and in a hurried whisper informed Marianne of what had transpired between Elinor and the colonel. Marianne was shocked and appalled, and privately rather mortified that she had been too engrossed in her conversation with Mr. Bingley to notice her sister’s distress.
Her mother assured her it was for the best. “I believe a new attachment would be just the thing to cheer her, for I am sure something happened between Elinor and Edward, some awful falling out at Christmas.”
Determined not to break her promise to Elinor, Marianne commented only on Lady Lucas’s insolence.
“The whole family ought to be shunned in the village! Mr. Bingley told me that he has suffered from diminished popularity in the neighborhood, and though it is a natural consequence of his abandoning Jane, I should think that accosting half the Bennet family in the town square is far more egregious!”
Mrs. Dashwood regarded her with a curious smile. “Have a care, my dear – one might imagine you begin to think kindly of Mr. Bingley.”
Fortunately for Marianne, just then Lady Rebecca entered with Miss Lucas; the latter had changed into one of Lady Rebecca’s old cast-offs, and she looked very ill in it.
Miss Lucas noticed the colonel at once, and seemed as if she would approach him, but Lady Rebecca linked their arms together and practically dragged Miss Lucas toward her mother.
After a few outlandish comments on how well the over-trimmed frock suited Miss Lucas, Lady Rebecca moved away and sought out Marianne, who parted with her mother and motioned for Lady Rebecca to sit with her by the fire, at some remove from the rest of their companions.
Lady Rebecca grinned as she leaned back against the plush chair opposite Marianne. “Is it not an excellent trick, my generosity to Miss Lucas?”
Marianne could see that her friend knew very well that she had baited Marianne into spilling the wine, and the two friends shared a little burst of laughter. “I am only astonished that you would bring something so hideous on your travels! It is nothing like the style of your other gowns.”
“It was a gift from my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and I think it an excellent one. I have always hoped to make some sort of spectacle with it, and when I was packing my trunks in London, I thought I might yet put it to use – for evil, of course.”
Marianne shook her head at her friend’s impudence. “I think you have also played a trick on me – with your seating arrangement at dinner.”
“Oh, no! Think of it as a gift – I daresay you enjoyed yourself very well.”
“You cannot have known I would topple my wine – I surprised even myself,” Marianne said, her stomach twisting at the recollection of what awkwardness had followed the spill.
“I certainly never imagined that your wickedness would trump my own – but it is a great relief that I am not entirely beyond being surprised from time to time. But, no, I thought only that it might divert you to observe Miss Lucas’s desperation, which I cleverly anticipated.
And since I must be at the other end of the table, I knew I could trust you to relay to me the most diverting bits of her fawning. Do tell me.”
Marianne laughed as she repeated the most amusing absurdities she had heard Miss Lucas utter in her effort to court Mr. Bingley’s favor, and though it gave Lady Rebecca great pleasure to hear, Marianne began to feel guilty for laughing at what had made Mr. Bingley so uncomfortable.
“And what did you and Charles talk of after I escorted Miss Lucas upstairs? I suppose you informed him that he deserved no better, after how he treated your cousin.”
“Quite the reverse,” Marianne said, keeping her voice flat and bland.
But Lady Rebecca was not fooled by Marianne’s dissembling. She gave an affected gasp and began to fan herself. “Did you enjoy conversing with him, Marianne? But I know it is impossible!”
“I pity him,” Marianne said. “I know what it is to feel uncomfortable in one’s own home, and to endure certain unpleasant relations.
He told me of his sisters, who remind me of my half-brother and his ghastly wife.
And unlike some persons present, I am sensible enough to admit when I have been wrong.
Mr. Bingley at least wishes to correct his deficiencies, which is more than I can say of any other man I know. ”
Lady Rebecca gave her a genuine smile. “I am happy to hear you say that. Oh, I find it amusing to tease poor Charles, but I do wish him every success in regaining the esteem of his neighbors and improving himself as he improves the estate. Even if it is his own fault – for he might be married and happily settled if he were not dominated by his sisters’ whims – but I can see how difficult it is for anybody with a truly good nature to stand up to those harpies. ”
“I hope I have a good nature, but I should never hesitate to speak my mind to such wicked creatures,” Marianne said emphatically,
Lady Rebecca raised an eyebrow and studied Marianne with a queer expression. “Indeed? Well, you are feisty tonight! Is there any particular reason why?”
Marianne shifted nervously in her chair. She had drawn Lady Rebecca away from the others for the express purpose of confiding in her, but at this ideal opportunity to broach the subject, she felt terribly uneasy. She reached into her pocket, her fingers curling around the unopened letter.
“Just before we came here, Elinor and I received a letter from Jane and Lizzy. Jane wrote that she had seen Mr. Willoughby in London, and she was persuaded to pass along a letter from him to me.”
“And is that not good news?”
“I hardly know,” Marianne sighed. “A fortnight ago, I am sure I would have been delighted and read it at once. But we were already dressing for dinner, and I did not wish to burden Elinor, if the contents of the letter proved distressing.”
“What could Mr. Willoughby have to say that would distress you?”
“A great deal, I should imagine. He has seduced and abandoned Miss Williams, and betrothed himself to some horrid heiress – there is nothing he can say that could ever ease the pain he has inflicted upon me.”
Marianne withdrew the letter from her pocket and turned it over in her hands, afraid that it may contain worse than what she had already heard of the man she once loved.
“I have been foolish in bestowing my regard so freely. I am determined to be wiser and more discerning. Indeed, I ought to be more like Elinor, who is resolved to overcome her own heartache, while I have only wallowed in my own. Or better still, perhaps I ought to be like Lizzy – she has not had her heart broken at all, for she speaks her mind to gentlemen, and is not afraid to tell them when they are utterly wrong.”
Lady Rebecca bubbled with laughter. “I hope I shall someday have the pleasure of congratulating her for giving my cousin Darcy the business! But what would she do, if she received such a letter?”
Marianne turned the offending missive over again and again, regarding it with rising panic.
It may perhaps contain some denial of his misdeeds, or perhaps an explanation that would put all to rights.
But Marianne would not allow herself the pathetic indulgence of such hopes.
She stood and with a sweep of her arm, she cast the unopened letter into the fire.
“Brava,” Lady Rebecca cried, clapping her hands. “A bold choice; I entirely approve.”
Marianne watched the letter burn and did not for an instant regret destroying it, for it was impossible that she could ever forgive Willoughby. She was all defiance, for she would not allow him to cause her any further distress.
A short while later, Lady Rebecca entreated Marianne to play the pianoforte, for she found the idea of Miss Lucas aspiring to master such an accomplishment far too easy to ridicule.
At her friend’s behest, Marianne began playing a complex and beautiful concerto, though she knew it was rather too mournful for such a party.
Marianne was not yet finished with her performance when the gentleman joined the ladies. She looked up, able to play from memory, and her eyes landed on Mr. Bingley, who was the last to enter. He lingered in the doorway, leaning against the wall, his gaze fixed on her with a look of surprise.
Her fingers fumbled over the notes, but she recovered smoothly, and Mr. Bingley continued to watch her with a piercing gaze.
Marianne looked away and entreated Mary to join her at the instrument.
With a sly glance back at Mr. Bingley, she called out to Miss Lucas.
“Do join us; I have been assisting Mary in her constant endeavor to be a better performer. If you really wish to distinguish yourself, beginning directly is certainly commendable.”
Miss Lucas demurred, for she was conversing with a few of the officers, but Mary happily joined Marianne at the pianoforte just as Mrs. Bennet loudly demanded music that the young people could dance to.
Mr. Bingley echoed these effusions and moved across the room to the pianoforte, where he commended Mary’s abilities and encouraged her to play something jolly.
She made a hasty selection and set the music before her, then looked over at Marianne.
“I am sure I can manage without anybody to turn the pages.”
Marianne gasped at her cousin’s treachery, for Mr. Bingley smiled warmly as he offered Marianne his hand. She accepted it, and was rather amused that Miss Lucas had taken notice of their camaraderie as they began the steps of a reel.
Kitty and Miss Maria were swiftly partnered with a pair of officers, and the colonel entreated Elinor to join the dancing as well.
Miss Lucas was obliged to move nearer to Lieutenant Sanderson and stare expectantly at him before he finally asked her to stand up with him.
Marianne shared a mischievous look with Mr. Bingley; she supposed she could permit herself to dance with the man who had wronged her cousin, if only to punish Miss Lucas for her impertinent flirtation.
The parlor was not quite large enough for so many couples, and so their dancing was an informal and sometimes improvised shambles, but Marianne allowed herself to enjoy it, and she was finally able to fulfill her promise of making merry.
This was just what she and Elinor had hoped might come of their stay in Meryton, when London lost its luster, and she made free in savoring the sensation of such perfect contentment.