Chapter X #2
To own the truth, Louisa was feeling more than a little serene about the whole affair.
Caroline’s appearance was not unexpected, nor was the displeasure she had unleashed when they had returned from Longbourn.
Caroline had the capacity, of course, to make trouble, but despite her performance, Louisa thought it was not impossible to reach her sister.
It would take patience, careful guidance, and courage, but Caroline would see sense.
If she did not, it would redound on her own head.
“What do you mean to do about your sister?” asked Gerald when Louisa did not respond at once. “If you leave her to her own devices, I suspect none of us will like the result.”
“I shall attempt to educate her about the realities of the situation,” replied Louisa. “Once she understands, I do not think she will be unreasonable.”
Gerald snorted with disdain. “When has your sister ever been reasonable?”
“She has never had so much incentive to be sensible,” insisted Louisa. “Let us consider this rationally. Charles will marry Jane if she will accept him—I suspect Caroline will accept that sooner than we expect.”
“And Darcy? Do you suppose she will accept his defection, as she will call it, without making a ruckus?”
“That one may even be easier,” replied Louisa. “Unlike Charles, Caroline has no illusions about her ability to influence Mr. Darcy—though she has schemed and plotted, she knows she cannot direct him. She will not like it, and she will deplore Miss Elizabeth, but she will have no choice.”
Louisa turned to glare out the window in moody silence, knowing the path forward was not so easy as she had suggested.
“We have discussed this before, but it remains the truth—it is imperative that Caroline allow this obsession of hers to wither and die. Keeping Mr. Darcy’s patronage can be nothing but beneficial for her prospects. ”
“The trick is to convince her of that.”
“Leave that to me,” said Louisa.
THAT MRS. BENNET WOULD descend into a frenzy of preparation for what was, after all, nothing more than a simple assembly did not surprise Elizabeth so much as it amused her.
Long acquaintance with her mother informed her that Mrs. Bennet never did anything by half—in Mrs. Bennet’s mind, Jane was near to securing Mr. Bingley, requiring only a small push to render the matter a fait accompli.
“This fussing of yours seems excessive, Mrs. Bennet,” said her husband as he observed Mrs. Bennet adjusting the neckline of Jane’s dress. “Unless I have misjudged young Bingley, Jane has already caught him.”
“One can never be too careful, Mr. Bennet,” replied she, not even glancing back at him. “Until he proposes, he may still confound us.”
“Oh, aye,” said Mr. Bennet, vastly amused. “By all means, Mrs. Bennet, chain him to Jane so that he will not escape.”
To Elizabeth’s mild surprise, her mother ignored her father’s witticism—for that matter, Mr. Bennet appeared disappointed by his wife’s lack of response. Then she turned to Elizabeth.
“Now, Lizzy,” instructed she, “do not carry on tonight as you usually do. Mr. Darcy has been attentive to you—if you exert yourself to act in a proper, demure fashion, I dare say you could capture him in no time.”
Elizabeth exchanged a look with her father and looked away at once, keeping her expression neutral. The notion of Mrs. Bennet, of all people, warning her about proper behavior was farcical. Mrs. Bennet had sterling qualities, but the notion of how to behave in polite society was not one of them.
“Then, shall I expect two daughters to return from this assembly engaged?” asked Mr. Bennet, winking at Elizabeth.
“If you did,” retorted Elizabeth, “I might wonder at your perception.”
Mr. Bennet chuckled, shaking his head as he retreated to his library. Over his shoulder he said: “You must tell me all about it when you return home, Lizzy, for I am most eager to hear of your conquest.”
“That man will be the death of me,” muttered Mrs. Bennet as she inspected her younger daughters for any flaws in their appearance.
Elizabeth avoided looking at Jane, knowing she might burst into laughter. The question of who would be the death of whom was a subject much debated in the Bennet family, for Mr. Bennet had echoed Mrs. Bennet’s sentiments many times.
Moments later, the Bennet ladies entered the carriage for the brief journey to Meryton.
The winter air chilled them all as they bundled in blankets and pelisses for warmth, the heated bricks by their feet helping to ward off the chill.
The moon was shining in all her splendor, bathing the road in shimmering silver light, allowing Elizabeth to look out on the fields of her home.
Elizabeth had long loved Longbourn, but for the first time she wondered what life in another place might look like.
That it was much too early for such thoughts she knew, but they invaded her mind, nonetheless.
By the time they reached Meryton, Lydia was complaining about her discomfort and had started bickering with Kitty about who was taking up more space.
Mrs. Bennet added to the cacophony by hushing the girls and complaining about her nerves, while Jane, Elizabeth, and Mary kept silent, looking out the window or exchanging significant glances full of meaning.
The hall was bright with the cheery flickering of candles, two fires roaring in the matching fireplaces at either end of the hall.
Though Elizabeth looked about when they entered, she could see no sign of the Netherfield party.
Though she spoke to several friends, Charlotte’s absence—the evening being the first assembly since she had married and gone into Kent—was like an open wound in her heart.
Perhaps fifteen minutes before the dancing was to begin, Mr. Bingley stepped into the hall leading his family and friends.
Elizabeth was struck at once by the tight expression he displayed, one that suggested he was not at all happy.
Though Elizabeth was at first uncertain, a moment later she understood—Miss Bingley entered wearing a face like a thundercloud.
Almost of their own accord, Elizabeth’s eyes found Mr. Darcy, trying to understand the meaning behind the woman’s sudden appearance.
Miss Bingley, she noticed, was walking close to the gentleman, though he was not escorting her.
In truth, Elizabeth was certain he wished for escape, his hands clasped behind his back to avoid Miss Bingley’s claws fastening upon them with the intention of never letting go.
“Miss Bingley!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet, her delight overcoming her surprise. “How excellent it is to see you again! We had begun to wonder when you would join your brother.”
The way Miss Bingley scowled, it was nigh impossible to suppose the woman appreciated her present location. Even Mrs. Bennet appeared taken aback, though she made a valiant attempt to engage her in conversation. This distraction allowed Mr. Darcy to approach.
“Miss Elizabeth,” said he, bowing to her curtsey. “May I say how enchanting you are tonight?”
“Flattery, Mr. Darcy?” asked Elizabeth, arching an eyebrow.
“Nothing of the sort,” said the gentleman. “When I speak of you, I always tell the absolute truth.”
“Miss Bingley’s presence is most curious, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, opting to move straight to the point.
“You are no more surprised than we all were when we returned to Netherfield.”
Elizabeth regarded him, trying to understand what he was not saying. “Then Mr. Bingley had no notion of his sister’s imminent arrival.”
“None at all,” replied Mr. Darcy.
“Can I assume that matters at Netherfield are more . . . discordant than they were yesterday?”
Mr. Darcy chuckled. “Miss Elizabeth, it appears you have a gift for understatement that I might not have guessed, considering how forthright you have always been.”
“It is nothing, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, waving his comment away. “There is a time for candor and a time for caution.”
“Yes, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy, “Miss Bingley is not best pleased with us all. I shall not spread stories or speak of my friend’s sister in a derogatory manner, but she made her displeasure clear the moment she was in our company.”
“And your response?” asked Elizabeth.
“If you are asking about me,” replied Mr. Darcy, “I have nothing to fear from her displeasure. For Bingley’s part, he was clear about his wishes and his expectations. Whether Miss Bingley accepts it is yet uncertain, but she does not now misunderstand him.”
“I doubt she misunderstood him before,” ventured Elizabeth.
“No, but she may still have thought she could rule him.” Mr. Darcy smiled. “She may not yet have surrendered to the inevitable, but she at least knows that he will not be so easily controlled as she thought.”
Elizabeth allowed her gaze to drift to Miss Bingley, who was now standing with Jane and Mr. Bingley, and Miss Bingley’s frequent glances in her direction did not escape her attention.
Mr. Bingley was directing most of his comments to Jane, which did not please Miss Bingley, but she did not appear willing to resist it either.
As Elizabeth had long understood the woman, that she would abandon her opposition to Mr. Bingley’s interest in Jane was no surprise, not when she sensed the unraveling of her ambitions with respect to Mr. Darcy.
“Then that must suffice for the moment,” said Elizabeth at length. “Let us discuss something else, Mr. Darcy, for I do not wish to focus on such objectionable subjects.”
A grin was the gentleman’s response. “I cannot agree more, Miss Elizabeth.”
THOUGH DARCY WISHED to have little to do with Miss Bingley, the woman was not about to allow him to speak with Miss Elizabeth unimpeded. Just moments after they turned to other subjects, Miss Bingley decided she could no longer stand idly by.
“Miss Eliza,” said she in a condescending tone. “I see you are here tonight.”
“It is customary for us all to attend assemblies, Miss Bingley,” said Miss Elizabeth, not appearing put out by the woman’s behavior in the slightest. “As I have made clear, I enjoy dancing.”
“Yes, well I suppose you have some hope for the amusement tonight.” The woman’s tone was nasty. “After all, there are hordes of these officers with whom you and your sisters are so enamored. Perhaps some of them will deign to stand up with you for a set.”
“Though I would not boast,” said Miss Elizabeth, appearing more amused than offended, “the only time I am required to sit out is when there are not enough gentlemen.”
“That is fortunate for you, to be certain.”
Miss Bingley sniffed with disdain and turned to Darcy, her entire demeanor changing to one she thought beguiling. Darcy, who had never seen anything in her that attracted him, remained unmoved.
“And you, Mr. Darcy? Shall you shed your customary reserve and dance?” Then Miss Bingley offered a laugh overlaid with sardonic tones and answered her own question. “Of course not. For there is no one in this room who can tempt you.”
Darcy directed a hard glare at Miss Bingley, but she did not notice—her gaze was fixed on Miss Elizabeth. Contrary to anything he might have supposed, Miss Elizabeth appeared unconcerned with the woman’s poor behavior.
“Mr. Darcy is rather discerning.”
“He is,” said Miss Bingley in her most superior tone. “One who is accustomed to the finest in society cannot but look on this paltry amusement as anything other than a punishment. Mr. Darcy’s standards are much higher than this, I assure you.”
“That is not a faithful portrayal of me at all,” Darcy hastened to interject.
“Come now, Mr. Darcy,” interrupted Miss Bingley, appearing determined to press her point, “there is no reason to dissemble—your opinion of this society has been clear for anyone who cares to look since the first moment you arrived.”
“That is most curious, Miss Bingley,” said Miss Elizabeth, her mirth now of a dark variety, “for Mr. Darcy has mingled among us for some days now and appears to be at his leisure.”
“To say that is perhaps to overstep the mark,” said Darcy, smiling at her. “I am at heart a reticent man, and that has not changed. As I have come to know your neighbors better, however, my understanding has grown, and that has led to greater comfort.”
“What an excellent gentleman you are, Mr. Darcy!” exclaimed Miss Bingley. Darcy did not miss the glare she threw at Miss Elizabeth. “To give consequence to such people as these is a sure sign of your nobility.”
“I am not so aloof as all this,” said Darcy, wishing the woman would just go away. “After all, I am naught but a gentleman.”
“And humble too,” said Miss Elizabeth in approval.
“Do you know that Mr. Darcy is intimately connected to an earl?” asked she in an aside to Miss Elizabeth.
“Yes, I do,” replied Miss Elizabeth. “Why, I have even made the acquaintance of the earl’s second son.”
Miss Bingley did not like that, though she offered a credible attempt at astonishment. “Truly? Your cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam was in Hertfordshire?”
“For a short time, he was,” confirmed Darcy.
“Then you understand whence comes Mr. Darcy’s sense of nobility,” said Miss Bingley. “Though I shall give you a word of warning, Miss Eliza.”
“Oh?” asked Miss Elizabeth, not amused. “And what is that?”
“Just that you expect nothing more from Mr. Darcy or his cousin than this,” said Miss Bingley. “Such members of high society are not inclined to give consequence to those of your station.”
“That of the daughter of a gentleman, you mean?” asked Miss Elizabeth.
Miss Bingley’s eyes glittered. “A minor country squire of no standing.”
“Yet still a gentleman,” said Miss Elizabeth. “I shall not debate the merits of rank with you, Miss Bingley, for I consider them unimportant compared to character.”
“Of course, one of your position in society must cling to such notions.” Miss Bingley looked down her nose at Miss Elizabeth.
Then she turned to Darcy. “I believe the music for the first sets is about to begin, Mr. Darcy. Shall you stand up for them, or do you mean to hold to your practice of avoidance?”
“Perhaps the former, Miss Bingley,” said Darcy. Then, disgusted with the woman’s conceit, he turned to Miss Elizabeth. “If you please, I should like to solicit your hand for the first sets, Miss Elizabeth. Will you do me the honor?”