Chapter 25 #2
“Jane and Miss Bingley have been corresponding regularly since July, sir. I have been corresponding with Jane. Neither my cousin nor your sister has given any indication that their friendship is over, unless Jane takes this latest instance of your sister’s duplicitousness as cause.”
A string of emotions trailed across Mr. Bingley’s face. He ended with a timidity Elizabeth had not seen from him before.
“Miss Elizabeth, I know you saw me with Miss Grantley last week. You should know there is nothing between us, not really. She is Caroline’s friend, and…
Caroline told me Jane—Miss Bennet—was no longer interested in, that is…
Is she really coming to London? I dearly long to see her.
Will she receive me at your uncle’s home? ”
“I believe she is counting on it, sir…if you truly mean it.”
Mr. Darcy had been looking at his feet throughout most of this conversation, but at her last words, his eyes snapped to hers.
It was only then that she remembered uttering similar words to him upon his apology after their first meeting.
Now she realized he probably had not truly meant the apology.
It had only been convenient at the time, but he had shown his arrogance again at their last meeting and offered no remorse.
Realizing her eyes were still locked on his, she forced her gaze back to Mr. Bingley, who was speaking.
“Of course I mean it, Miss Elizabeth. I wish to see Miss Bennet. Nothing has changed for me since last year. I did try, after Caroline said…but I do wish to see her.”
“Do you happen to know your sister’s plans for tomorrow?” Elizabeth asked carefully.
His brow furrowed as he considered. Then his eyes widened as he realized what Elizabeth had suspected but hoped was not true.
“Caroline asked me to join her and Miss Grantley for tea tomorrow afternoon,” he said.
“She has invited Jane, as well, knowing what she would find in your drawing room.”
Mr. Bingley’s mouth opened, but no words came. Finally, he said, “I will tell Caroline I am unavailable to have tea with her.”
Mr. Darcy looked at his friend in surprise. He obviously agreed with Miss Bingley that Jane was not wealthy enough for her brother.
“I will not give her up, Darcy. Not if she still cares for me as I am sure she did last year.” Mr. Bingley had been looking at his friend but turned to Elizabeth.
“You taught me that, Miss Elizabeth. Do you remember? You told me I am worth coming first sometimes. In my own marriage, I believe only my wife should come before me. Caroline will have no place in it.”
Elizabeth smiled warmly at him and thought she saw Mr. Darcy give him a miniscule nod before returning his frowning gaze to his feet.
“Your punch, Miss Bennet, Edith.” Mr. Cage had returned, and Elizabeth thanked him and took the cup he offered.
“Mr. Cage, do you know Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy?” she asked.
“Bingley, old fellow, good to see you!” he said. “What has it been, three days?”
Mr. Bingley laughed. “Indeed, but I had no idea you would be here tonight, or that you were acquainted with Miss Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth blushed at the tender look Mr. Cage turned on her, saying, “I am.” Looking back to his friend, he said, “My cousin introduced us several weeks ago. Have you met Miss Edith Cage?”
“Only just,” Mr. Bingley said, “a pleasure. Darcy, may I introduce you to my friend?”
Mr. Darcy nodded almost imperceptibly.
“This is Mr. Robert Cage of Somersetshire. Cage, allow me to present Mr. Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire.”
Mr. Darcy barely bowed to the man, his eyes filled with a venom that made Elizabeth take a half step back.
The music began then, however, and without a word, he extended his gloved hand to her.
She gingerly placed her fingers in his, and he lightly squeezed them.
She smothered a gasp at the frisson from the small gesture, and he led her toward the gathering dancers.
Once in their places, he still did not speak, and although the hatred had disappeared from his eyes as they trained on her, they were neither calm nor welcoming, so she looked away. She noticed with approval that Mr. Bingley had brought Edith to the floor, a few couples down the line from her.
Mr. Darcy was a skilled dancer, as she had learned the year before, but she found she could not savor the experience this time.
He continued in silence, staring at her as though…
as though. She did not know. What did he want?
Despite his blank expression, his eyes were as vivid as ever.
She used to understand his looks, back when they had been friends.
No, she would not allow herself to dredge up old memories and remember the kind man she had thought he was.
She had missed that man, but he had never really existed, so he could not be the scoundrel who stood before her now.
She would give herself a megrim if she went on in such twisting logic.
Whether he had been honest in his friendship when she was sixteen or not, allowing him to be that old Mr. Darcy would open herself to admiring his handsome visage once again, which she refused to do.
She also saw no reason to begin a conversation with him. Not after the way he had spoken when last they met. If he was waiting for her to renew their association, he could wait forever.
As they went through the steps, though, coming close together and separating time and again, she wondered why he had asked her to dance if he disliked her so much?
Mr. Bingley would not have required it even if he could.
She was tempted to ask and was rather proud of herself when she made it through the entire first dance without uttering a word.
She alternated looking around her at the swirls of silk in the candlelight and returning his hard gaze. He never looked anywhere but at her.
When the first dance of the set ended, Mr. Darcy finally turned his head aside.
Elizabeth glanced at him in time to see him inhale deeply, and she realized he had barely seemed to breathe during the entire quarter hour.
As the second dance proceeded, however, he appeared to make a decision to speak.
She thought he may tell her to warn Jane away from Mr. Bingley, so she was surprised by what finally escaped his rigid hauteur.
“Is Mr. Cage courting you?”
“Would you be surprised to hear he was, though he is neither a tenant farmer nor a father of small children in need of a governess?”
Mr. Darcy’s eyes widened, seemingly shocked she would be so uncouth as to remember his unforgettable words.
“Not at all.”
Had his cheeks turned pink?
Nothing required her to tell Mr. Darcy that Mr. Cage had shown interest in her and that she welcomed his company but could not presently see him as more than a friend. She need not speak to him at all, in fact.
“Bingley’s letters indicated he has rarely seen you in many months and that his sister said you were not ready to be in society for another year.”
“As that was nearly a year ago, you cannot be surprised to see me at a ball now?” she said in disbelief. “I know you have always seen me as a child, but I am not as young as your sister.”
“No, of course. I was surprised to see you tonight, but not because I think you a child—”
“I see. You were surprised to find me at such an exalted event, expecting that when I came out to society, it would mean attendance at street dances and dog fights.”
Mr. Darcy gaped. If she had not been so annoyed with him, she would have laughed.
“Do not concern yourself that your pristine society will be often polluted by me. I believe my limited experience with London has shown me which invitations to accept and which are not worth my efforts.” The music was ending, and Elizabeth would be free of him within moments.
“Perhaps when you next see me, I will be at a boxing match, and I will leave you to decide on which side of the circle.” She curtsied, spun, and walked away before he had fully closed his mouth.