Chapter IX #3
“Did you just insinuate that I am a popinjay, Mr. Bennet?” demanded Mr. Bingley, his affront feigned or Elizabeth was no judge of the man at all.
“I only speak as I find, Bingley.”
The general laughter of them all did not offend Mr. Bingley—the man himself laughed as hard as anyone else.
“Though I shall dispute the word applied to myself,” said Mr. Bingley, “I shall not deny that I am eager to dance when the opportunity presents itself. When confronted by the inducement before me, I shall not hesitate a moment.”
“That much is evident, Bingley.”
“Well,” said Mrs. Bennet, not to be deterred, “if you wish to dance the first, I am certain my Lizzy would oblige you, Mr. Darcy.”
Though Elizabeth was mortified, Mr. Darcy did not appear bothered. The way he regarded Mrs. Bennet bespoke gravity, though Elizabeth could not be at all certain of his thoughts.
“Please be assured, Mrs. Bennet, that I shall do my duty.”
It was not the promise of dancing the first with her, but it seemed to satisfy Mrs. Bennet.
Mr. Bennet looked on, speculation alive in his gaze, but everyone else returned to their conversations.
Mr. Hurst, Elizabeth noted, was watching them, though his expression was unreadable.
Why he would concern himself with Mr. Darcy’s doings she could not say, but she thought she detected a hint of concern in his manner.
“I apologize for my mother,” said Elizabeth, pushing any concern of Mr. Hurst from her mind.
“Not at all, Miss Elizabeth.”
Mr. Darcy considered what he might say for several moments. “As Bingley observed on the way from Netherfield this morning, I have made it a practice to avoid dancing the first sets with any young woman.”
“Might I assume there is a reason for that reticence?” asked Elizabeth.
“There is,” agreed Mr. Darcy. “It is to avoid giving any young lady the impression of favor.”
“And you find that a single dance provokes such expectation?” asked Elizabeth, by now amused at the notion.
“It would surprise you how little it takes to give young ladies encouragement, Miss Elizabeth,” replied Mr. Darcy. “As you know something of my situation, that I receive certain . . . attention must not be a surprise.”
Elizabeth considered this and nodded. “Though I had not thought on it, I suppose you are correct.”
“I am not a misanthrope, Miss Elizabeth.” Mr. Darcy smiled and shook his head. “But I have little patience for those who curry favor, and as I have never found myself enamored with a woman, I prefer not to raise expectations, even by mere appearance.”
“Then I shall inform you that I have no expectations, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, wondering how the gentleman would respond.
Whatever response she expected, it was not silence and a long look.
Little though she had understood it, Mr. Darcy’s attentions of late, while perhaps not the typical behavior of a suitor, were marked enough that she had noticed them.
Then again, Mr. Darcy was not a typical gentleman, so she supposed it was no surprise he would go about his courting in an unusual manner—if that was what this was.
“I am not unwilling,” said Mr. Darcy. “If you will oblige me, I should be happy to stand up with you for a set.”
Elizabeth nodded, unwilling to suppress the flutter of anticipation she felt. It seemed she was not immune to Mr. Darcy’s recent interest!
“Do you not think a dance between us is fraught with danger?” asked Elizabeth, falling back on humor.
The gentleman appeared to have some notion of her meaning, but he acted as if he did not. “No more than a set with any other young woman. You have already promised that you would expect nothing from me after a dance.”
“What of our exchange at Netherfield?” asked Elizabeth.
“That was a special occasion, Miss Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth arched a brow. “I can remember nothing special about it. Perhaps we should decide on what subject we shall argue now, so that we can set to it the moment the music begins.”
“That is a curious notion, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy with a low chuckle. “I had not thought it customary to plan an argument in advance.”
“I suppose it is not. But it is much more convenient, do you not think?”
“As I told you once before, I would suspend no pleasure of yours.”
DARCY SPENT THE CARRIAGE ride back to Netherfield in a fog of memory, pleasure, and longing, and for a time, he wondered if he should have asked Miss Elizabeth for her first. There was no danger of raising expectations, for he knew Miss Elizabeth was as rational as her word, and he was more than willing to fulfill any hope his actions might elicit.
Though his companions attempted to provoke him, Darcy refused to engage, having something much more agreeable to consider. Thus, he did not recognize the danger until he stepped into the house, though in retrospect he could not but suppose that Mrs. Hurst at least knew what awaited them.
When they stepped into the sitting-room, Darcy noticed at once that it was not empty.
Near the mantel stood a woman he had hoped not to see just yet, her face as she turned to them showing her displeasure.
It was Miss Bingley, and Darcy could not think of a time when the sight of another—even George Wickham—was so unwelcome to him.