Chapter Four #2
“Varied indeed! But surely you and your sister must have your favorites amongst them – I daresay one of you at least must cherish a secret tendre for one of the Fitzwilliam gentlemen. Did you not all grow up together?”
“We did, though of course Jane and I saw more of Lady Rose and Lady Rebecca as children, particularly after the boys were of an age to be away at school.”
Miss Bingley narrowed her eyes and moved closer. “I heard from my brother that Miss Bennet was once promised to marry into that family.”
“It was talked of, but never made official. Our cousin Robert died several years ago.”
“And there has never been any notion of another match? The earl is quite dashing and fond of society, and Mr. Fitzwilliam is clever and amiable enough to render him perfectly handsome. I must admit I admire them both, though I would not wish to give your sister any offense. She has been rather cool at all my overtures.”
“Jane is more reserved than you shall find me,” Elizabeth said, debating to what extent she wished to make sport of Miss Bingley. She resolved to refrain from answering the lady’s question directly, curious if Miss Bingley would be desperate enough to repeat her impertinent inquiry.
“Then we have something in common already, beyond a fondness for your cousins, Miss Eliza! My sister is also a creature of fewer words than I – but then, she has been settled for many years now. Though I cannot envy her choice, I am sure I should be just as satisfied to make a fine match. I understand your mother intends the same for you, my charming friend – we must share whatever we can discover of these gentlemen. I am resolved to do what my sister did not, you see, and be absolutely certain that I select a man well suited to me.”
“I am sure London is just the place for you to find such a gentleman,” Elizabeth said with a bright smile.
“Ah! But I require so much,” Miss Bingley tutted.
“A gentleman of good reputation and some social prominence, for I am fond of attending parties and the like, and then he must be intelligent and worldly, handsome, of course, and there is one other great matter. I should dearly wish to marry a gentleman who holds my brother in high esteem, and I hope I am clever enough to desire that he find himself utterly enamored with me. I could never fancy a gentleman who preferred another, you see. And so you must confide freely in me, dear friend – I should not dream of trespassing on you and your elegant sister.”
Elizabeth was fairly certain she knew exactly what Miss Bingley dreamt of, for the cloying creature had fawned over Richard and Rupert at dinner, and even now could scarcely keep her eyes on Elizabeth as she directed simpering smiles at the dowager countess.
“You indeed comprehend a great deal in your future partner, Miss Bingley. Is this your first season out in society?”
It was Miss Bingley’s fourth season; Lady Rebecca had informed Elizabeth of this, though the lady herself did not admit it. “Oh, I am no ingenue, Miss Eliza. I hope you do not think me naive. Surely there must be a gentleman or two who possess the merits I described.”
Elizabeth smirked and leaned in, as if she meant to confide some great secret. But she only said, “Since your brother is one of the most cheerful fellows I have ever encountered, you shall easily be satisfied in finding a beau who gets on with him.”
Miss Bingley looked a little disappointed that Elizabeth had given her no information of any use.
But then she recovered, and began a new tactic.
“I am glad to hear you speak so well of him, Miss Eliza! Well, and now I comprehend why you have said nothing of your own interests. But if you can see Charles’s goodness, I am sure you must agree what a fine beau he should make a lady of equal liveliness. ”
“I see what you mean,” Elizabeth said, determined that she was not done being nettlesome.
“He is a handsome man – though, like you, there is far more that I require. Perhaps I ought to obtain his opinions on novels and poetry, for I am a great reader, and fond of a spirited debate. So, too, must my future husband be, for once he has secured my approbation and affection, my mother is sure to put him through his paces.”
Miss Bingley’s pasted-on smile twitched a little at this.
Elizabeth was prepared to say a great deal more, but she was summoned to take her sister’s place on the pianoforte.
She exerted herself more than usual to play well, if only because this seemed to irritate the grasping Miss Bingley.
She was near the end of her song when the gentlemen joined the ladies, and as Sir John Dawson approached her, Elizabeth began to miss several of the notes in the song she knew well, and even her voice grew weaker.
She was vastly amused at the result. Lord Bellingham openly sneered at her poor performance, and even Sir John hesitated before veering over to speak with Lady Rose instead of seeking out Elizabeth.
Sir Rolland Moore, however, was not deterred.
He joined her at the instrument, and when she finished her dismal performance he persuaded her to play something to which he could sing.
Sir Rolland had a fine voice, and he helped her select a jolly tune that displayed them both to advantage.
Elizabeth did not especially care whether any of her newest acquaintance enjoyed listening to her, but she was glad to see that her mother looked pleased.
And, wicked creature that she was, she was gratified that Mr. Darcy looked as if he wished to throttle his friend.
Elizabeth was ready to cede the instrument to her younger cousin, but when Miss Bingley called for dancing, Mrs. Hurst offered to oblige the young people, and Lady Rebecca hastened to reach the instrument first. Furniture was pushed aside to make space, though there were only four young ladies who wished to stand up.
Surveying them with bawdy amusement, the earl declared he preferred to admire all the elegant females at once, and could do so best from his seat beside his mother, who looked mortified and vexed in equal measure.
There were still six gentlemen ready to recommend themselves, and Elizabeth watched the maneuvering with amusement.
She wished to dance with Mr. Darcy, though she knew her mother would prefer for her to partner one of the gentlemen she had just met this evening.
She glanced over at her cousin Rebecca, who was smirking to herself at having obliged one additional gentleman to sit out.
And then Elizabeth’s choice was made for her, when she looked up to find Sir Rolland offering her a cheerful bow as he extended his hand to her.
Mr. Darcy no longer looked cross with his friend, but rather stricken.
Rebecca played a jaunty tune, and Elizabeth waggled a finger at Sir Rolland as they took their places to begin the steps.
“You are a wicked man, Sir Rolland, but do not think I mean to flatter you any further.”
He laughed heartily. “Saving all your compliments for Darcy, eh? Well, Miss Elizabeth, I shall not be half so stingy with my extravagant compliments. You are radiant in that shade of pink, and your smile shines brighter than the diamond about your neck. I can already perceive that you are a splendid dancer, and since I have heard you play and sing very beautifully, I believe I can safely conclude that you excel at everything, including arousing my fascination.”
A turn of the dance had caused them to pass very near Lady Catherine, who smiled at hearing how the gentleman addressed her daughter, and she gave Elizabeth a smile meant to be encouraging.
“I believe you must save your pretty compliments for Miss Darrow, sir. Mr. Darcy hinted to me that he will soon be wishing you joy.”
“Ah! Will told you of my betrothal, did he? Well, so much for having a lark at his expense – old habits, Miss Elizabeth. We have been friends for ten years or more, since our days at Cambridge. I should say the blasted fellow cannot keep a secret, but I suspect that is not at all the case.”
Elizabeth blinked in confusion, wondering what he could mean.
She nearly missed one of her steps, but then banished the thought.
The puckish man clearly meant to work some mischief, and over the course of their dance together he regaled her with increasingly outlandish tales of their exploits, which Elizabeth could only suppose to be nearly all embellishment.
She danced next with her cousin, who looked as pleased as Sir Rolland at the prospect of thwarting poor Mr. Darcy. Richard had already stood up with Jane, and Elizabeth wasted no time in broaching that subject which held such interest for her. “Is my sister not a splendid dancer?”
Richard turned pink and flicked his gaze upward as a slow smirk spread across his face. “She is.”
“And you might have discovered as much many years ago.”
He hung his head dramatically. “A fact which seems to consume my female relations at present.”
Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. “Perhaps you may prefer to discuss your other admirer.”
Now he grinned at her in earnest. “Oh, do tell me she has sought you out already to enlist your aid.” Her laughter was answer enough for him to begin gloating. “After four years of that, you wonder why I have avoided the ladies.”
“If it is any comfort to you, cousin, she has not yet decided between you and your brother. I suppose I ought to have obliged her a little, and given her some hint as to which of you may be keener to endure the full focus of her charms.” Now it was Elizabeth’s turn to be smug, and after going through a turn of the dance, she fixed her cousin with a look of wicked triumph.
“I believe there is much to be said, however, for allowing young ladies of fortune the luxury of choice, rather than encouraging their affection for the first man who appears to desire it.” She let her gaze land on Jane, who was standing up with Lord Bellingham, and bestowing a wide, serene smile on her partner.