Chapter XI #2
Miss Bingley’s eyes were wild, her voice shrill and her hand gestures jerky. Darcy supposed she was seeing the end of her machinations, and though he did not pity her, the end of a desperate longing such as she had harbored must be bitter, indeed.
“For a gentleman of your stature to pay such attention to a woman such as Miss Elizabeth is quite beyond what anyone could expect of you.”
“Not at all, Miss Bingley,” replied Darcy, already jealous of the man with whom Miss Elizabeth was speaking. “It is an assembly, is it not? One dances at assemblies.”
“You need not dissemble to me, Mr. Darcy, for I understand your feelings on the subject.”
“What subject, Miss Bingley?” asked Darcy, turning to face her. “With such comments as these, I must suppose you employ witchcraft to learn the secrets of my heart, for I have never betrayed them to you.”
Miss Bingley ignored even this remonstration.
“That is most amusing, Mr. Darcy! It is my long acquaintance with your character that gives me this insight. While you might have thought Miss Elizabeth’s eyes fine and her manners beguiling, I understand you better than to suppose that she can maintain her hold on you. ”
“Is that so?”
The dangerous note in his voice should have alerted her to his waning patience, but she remained obtuse—Darcy could not decide if it was willful or just blind.
“Of course, it is! Why, I have witnessed your discernment enough to know how infallible it is. A woman such as Miss Elizabeth could never hold your interest for long.”
Darcy’s patience snapped. “First, Miss Bingley,” said he, not bothering to hide his distaste for her, “let me inform you that I am not infallible. Second, I once declared my admiration for Miss Elizabeth’s fine eyes.
Let me now confirm that my appreciation has only grown, for she is in every way an estimable young woman.
Please cease these oblique attacks, for they do not reflect reality, nor do they do you any credit. ”
With that, Darcy turned and stalked away.
Though he had not planned it, he caught sight of Miss Lydia Bennet, and seeing a means by which he could extricate himself from Miss Bingley, he stepped to her.
The girl, surprised by his sudden appearance, fell silent, though she had been speaking with an officer—Denny, unless Darcy’s memory was faulty.
“Mr. Darcy,” said the officer, paling just a little, no doubt remembering Darcy’s denunciation of his friend.
“Lieutenant,” said Darcy with a curt nod. Then he turned to Miss Lydia. “Will you do me the honor of standing up the next with me?”
Several emotions crossed the girl’s face at that moment—shock, calculation, annoyance, and curiosity among others. The girl’s eyes flicked to the lieutenant as if beseeching him to intervene, but Denny was not about to protest.
“It is my fault for not asking for your hand for this set, Miss Lydia,” said he, bowing to her. “If you are amenable, I shall have your next sets.”
“Oh, very well,” acquiesced the girl with little grace. “Of course, I shall dance with you, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy offered a clipped bow and moved away. Miss Bingley was still watching him, though her shock had turned to calculation and—more worrisome—to determination. Before she could approach him again, Georgiana drew a giggling Miss Kitty Bennet and approached him.
“Tell me, Brother,” said she, her eyes dancing in merriment, “should I feel the insult of your preference for Lydia instead of dancing with me?”
Chagrinned, Darcy gazed helplessly at his sister.
Georgiana lost the battle with her mirth and descended into giggles with Miss Kitty.
Darcy did not miss the glances they directed at Miss Bingley, nor did he think the woman in question was any less aware of them.
Though he heard a distinct huff behind him, Darcy did not look back, not wishing to provoke her to approach them.
“I should be happy to dance the third with you, Georgiana,” said he. Then on impulse, he turned to Miss Kitty. “Shall I have the fourth with you, Miss Kitty?”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy,” said the girl. “I shall dance with you.”
“Has Miss Bingley been so difficult to endure?” asked Georgiana, moving closer so only he could hear her question.
Out of the corner of his eye, Darcy caught sight of the swirl of Miss Bingley’s skirts as she stalked toward her sister. Now assured that she would not overhear, a little of Darcy’s tension dispelled.
“You have no notion, Georgiana.”
She nodded. “Then I shall offer myself as protection against her whenever you find it necessary, Brother. If you wish to avoid her altogether, perhaps you might continue your early civility and dance more than your custom.”
Darcy did not like it much, but he knew she was correct. “I shall consider it, Georgiana. If nothing else, I am occupied at least until the fourth sets.”
“You could ask Mary,” suggested Miss Kitty. “She does not receive many requests to dance, but she knows the steps.”
Darcy looked across the dance floor to where the awkward sister sat speaking to no one. A sense of familiarity welled up within him—they were not so different, he thought. Perhaps he would ask her.
In the few moments between asking Miss Lydia and the music for the second sets beginning, Darcy regretted his rash choice to solicit a dance from the youngest and least restrained Bennet. No doubt her behavior would make the set a punishment.
With such thoughts foremost in his mind, the surprise Darcy felt when she remained quiet for the initial stages of the dance was understandable.
Darcy did not think he had ever seen the girl remain silent for more than a few moments at a time, yet she regarded him saying nothing.
When she deigned to speak, Darcy might have wished that she remain uncommunicative, though he could not disagree with the substance of her words.
“I suppose you asked me to dance so that you could escape from Miss Bingley.”
It was the same charge that Miss Elizabeth had leveled at him, but from Miss Lydia there was a sense of dark amusement, of understanding he had not expected. That she proved so observant was also beyond anything he had previously understood of her.
“Do not concern yourself, Mr. Darcy,” said she, anticipating his apology. “I am not unfamiliar with Miss Bingley, and I cannot blame you for taking yourself out of her company by the most expeditious means possible.”
“Is it your intention to criticize my friend’s sister?” asked Darcy, bemused at her lack of restraint.
“Is it not yours?” demanded she. “I have seen you in her company, Mr. Darcy. You do not appreciate her, though I dare say Miss Bingley is the only one who does not understand it.”
The girl shrugged. “I care little for her opinion, for she is a spiteful woman.”
“In some ways, Miss Lydia,” said Darcy gravely, though he had to fight off the laughter that welled up, “I cannot disagree with you.”
Miss Lydia regarded him with more shrewdness than he might have thought her capable of displaying. “In a contest between my sister and Miss Bingley, I must suppose Lizzy comes out ahead in every category.”
Darcy paused for a moment, but he decided he did not care to hide it. “That is not accurate, for there is no contest.”
Though she appeared pleased and amused, Miss Lydia glanced to where Miss Bingley stood with her sister. She was speaking with some animation, but Mrs. Hurst appeared unaffected by her sister’s displeasure.
“In Miss Bingley’s eyes, there is,” noted Miss Lydia.
“Yes, she is rather blind in that respect,” agreed Darcy.
“Well, that is interesting to be certain.”
The girl offered a throaty little laugh, again striking Darcy with the resemblance to Miss Elizabeth.
That was where the similarity ended, of course, for their characters were not at all alike.
But in that resemblance, Darcy could see that the pretty, juvenile girl would turn heads when she gained maturity, and perhaps even a little sense and discretion.
“You would not do for me, of course,” said Miss Lydia, her manner offhand.
“Oh?” asked Darcy, arching an eyebrow, vastly amused. “And why is that, Miss Lydia?”
“Why, I prefer a livelier man,” said she, unconcerned.
“Like one of these officers about which you speak?”
Miss Lydia considered this. “Well, I suppose not,” said she after a moment, though it seemed to Darcy that the admission pained her. “After all, none of these officers can afford a wife.”
It was a bit of insight Darcy had not expected from the girl. He could not resist a slight tease.
“Then I must be a better option, for I can keep a woman in luxury all her life.”
Miss Lydia inspected him, then she offered a slow nod. “Yes, I suppose you must be correct, though you are still too sedate for me.” Then she brightened. “But you must have friends in London looking for wives. If you marry my sister, then you can introduce me to them.”
It was unexpected, but Darcy found himself charmed by her manner. “Should your sister accept me, we shall ensure your presentation in London.”
The way Miss Lydia offered a regal nod, Darcy knew she thought it nothing less than her due.
As it was, Darcy thought it was not politic to say that she would receive no such introduction until she was eighteen, and that her manners must improve first. For the rest of the dance she chattered, her attention flitting from one subject to another without hesitation.
This afforded Darcy the opportunity to remain silent, yet not appear aloof.
So Darcy listened, agreed when necessary, and passed the time far more pleasantly than he expected.
ELIZABETH DID NOT ENVY Mr. Darcy at all.
Had Miss Bingley been any angrier, she might have thought the woman would burst where she stood.
Several times throughout the course of the evening, Elizabeth saw her step close to Mr. Darcy to make a comment or a plea, but Mr. Darcy remained impervious to it all.
Though Miss Bingley was the only one who could not see it, Mr. Darcy avoided her whenever possible, and excused himself at the first opportunity when it was unavoidable.
“I beg your pardon for saying it, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth when they were dancing the last set, “but I suspect Miss Bingley’s temper will not be easy to endure.”
“Perhaps,” said the gentleman, not bothering to contradict her—they both knew she was correct anyway. “Yet I find myself unmoved. Should she push me, I am prepared to disclaim any interest in her whatsoever.”
Elizabeth considered this then nodded. “It will give no one pain but herself, but perhaps it is the kindest thing you can do.”
Then Elizabeth grinned and gave him a saucy wink. “You must take great care, Mr. Darcy, for if you do not, you may find something—or someone—unexpected in your bedchamber.”
“For shame, Miss Elizabeth,” said the gentleman, though his eyes danced with mirth. “Do you not know that Miss Bingley is above such intrigues? She is the preeminent lady in all the land, and would never descend to such paltry devices—why, she owns this herself!”
The laughter came easily. “Yes, I must suppose she does!”
“All jesting aside,” said Mr. Darcy when their mirth had run its course, “I do not suppose she will throw caution to the wind. Miss Bingley is determined to make a good marriage, but she will not abandon all decency.”
Elizabeth considered the woman, noting her by the side of the dance floor, her sister speaking to her. Whatever she was saying, Miss Bingley did not like it, but she did not respond.
“No, I do not suppose that she would,” agreed Elizabeth after a moment of watching her.
“That does not mean I will relax my guard,” said Mr. Darcy, winking at her.
“Prudent,” replied Elizabeth.
Then she turned her attention, noting Kitty and Georgiana dancing together and giggling. “It seems your sister has enjoyed the evening.”
“I thank you and your sisters for ensuring she has enough partners to satisfy her,” replied Mr. Darcy warmly. “It might have been hard for her to watch other girls her age dancing while she must sit out.”
“Not at all, Mr. Darcy. She is a wonderful girl.”
“Then I hope you will continue your friendship with her.”
Elizabeth smiled at the gentleman. “I have little choice, since you appear determined to press your suit.”
“I am,” said the gentleman with no hint of hesitation.
“We must see what happens,” said Elizabeth. “But I have no objection to friendship with your sister, regardless of the situation between us.”
When the evening ended, Elizabeth left with her family, the tingling sensation on her hand where Mr. Darcy’s lips had pressed against it accompanying her all the way home.
As the carriage rolled toward Longbourn in the darkness, she was startled to realize that she had enjoyed the evening, and had enjoyed Mr. Darcy’s company most of all.
For the first time, she looked forward to the coming weeks.