Application （Anne）
What in the world was he doing here? Perhaps he came back to verify Miss Bennet’s accounts?
It was all so vexing. I liked Miss Elizabeth very much, even though we had only enjoyed (or endured) one proper conversation, with half of that spent in my abject mortification, and the remainder in her teasing.
I was loath to let my cousin toy with her…
though come to think of it, she looked much more amused than aggrieved.
This was most peculiar! Did she even want to marry the loggerhead?
She had asserted quite clearly that she did not just five minutes prior, so I had to take her at her word.
I stood up with Elizabeth and made my greeting, though her curtsey admittedly looked better than mine. Mother always insisted mine was absolutely perfect and needed no improvement, and as usual it was easier to agree than to challenge her (or actually improve myself).
My own greeting was barely civil. “Darcy.”
I did my best not to curl my lip in disgust at the man, though I doubt my best was very good, and he looked at me in nervous confusion.
The only thing I could think of to explain his apprehension was that he probably had no idea I had worked out his intention to propose to Elizabeth.
He would have no way to know she had told me about his conversation that morning, or his habits of expense.
I was tempted to ask him about those, but that seemed like breaking a confidence, so I would have to wait at least five minutes.
He exerted himself to minimal politeness, still wondering why I looked at him with little more favour than I would a piece of dog business on my shoe.
“Miss Bennet, I hope you are feeling better. I came by to enquire after you.”
Elizabeth stared at him in confusion, apparently wondering why he had to enquire after such a thorough discussion only that morning. Her condition could not have changed all that much in a few hours, and she asserted their parting was amicable.
“It is only a headache, Mr Darcy. I am fine.”
She seemed to be debating having him sit or throwing him out on his ear, but he reacted before she did.
“I beg your pardon, ladies. I can see you were conversing. I have no wish to invade your privacy. I shall go.”
Elizabeth seemed content with that answer, but I was not.
I wanted to rattle him, and then I wanted an answer to why he decided to jilt my best friend.
Of course, having a single conversation with Miss Bennet probably did not qualify her for best friend status, but I was frightfully short on friends.
Of course—since he had never actually proposed, and Elizabeth neither expected nor apparently desired such—perhaps ‘jilted’ might have been a stronger word than was strictly required, but I would stand by it.
It was time to disconcert him. “Sit down, Darcy. Elizabeth and I are finished exchanging confidences for the moment, and we could use something new to talk about.”
Elizabeth looked at me either in censure or appreciation over my pre-emptive use of her given name, but I imagined she would have a teasing payback soon. Darcy looked startled as if he could neither imagine me having confidence with anyone, or me pre-emptively ordering him to sit.
Elizabeth had apparently decided it was time for me to pay the price for my impertinence.
“Yes, Mr Darcy, Anne and I were discussing which of my sisters I would lend her for lessons in teasing. Perhaps you could make a recommendation? I was thinking of Jane, but of course, as you well know, she is heartbroken in London, so she might not be all that merry. I imagine it must be Lydia and Kitty. What is your opinion, sir? Would they bring a bit of levity to Rosings?”
Darcy stared at her in astonishment while she simply sat there as if she had asked his opinion on the relative merits of blue ribbons versus pink.
Darcy, on the other hand started sweating, and not just figuratively.
I actually saw sweat form on his forehead and start trickling down his cheek before he wiped it with his handkerchief.
Elizabeth appeared to be enjoying his discomfiture, so perhaps she was not as indifferent to his lack of affection or need for fortune as she had previously asserted, and what was that about a heartbroken sister?
I opened my mouth to ask a question, but she stopped me momentarily with a glance. “Or perhaps Mary might be better? Anyone can always profit from Fordyce. What do you think?”
From his squirming, she was apparently not so happy about being cast aside over mere money. HAH! I was enjoying my cousin’s squirming immensely; and even if Elizabeth was squeamish, I was not. I would understand these habits of expense if it killed me—or more likely killed Darcy.
He finally let out a gulp that sounded like he swallowed a hedgehog whole. “All of your sisters are quite lovely, Miss Bennet. I am certain any of them would do.”
Elizabeth smiled that enigmatic smile. “Thank you. That was most helpful.”
She stared at him until he started squirming again, then abruptly released him as if he were entirely forgotten.
“Anne, you must decide. Oh, and do you care for them at the parsonage, or do you intend them to stay at Rosings with your mother?”
Wicked, wicked woman! She was no longer my best friend… or was she?
It was time she saw I had learnt my lessons well, despite the brevity of instruction. She must see I could tease with the best of them. She was to be hoisted by her own impertinence.
“Lizzy, you know full well I have been a selfish being all my life. I truly cannot be satisfied with only two sisters. I must have the lot, and you of course as well.”
She blanched, as if fearing she had gone too far.
I smirked. “Of course, you know Mother would never approve the scheme at Rosings, so I am afraid we are all for Pemberley. Could we start Saturday week?”