Chapter 9
Once Mrs Bennet and her daughters had left the house, Miss Elizabeth excused herself and hurried from the room. Darcy hated to see her rush off, but Caroline and Louisa smirked at her swift retreat.
“Poor Miss Eliza must be mortified,” Caroline said, feigning sympathy. “She probably wishes she and her sister had never come to Netherfield.”
“Perhaps she wishes for a more sympathetic hostess,” Darcy said, despite his suspicions that Mrs Bennet had orchestrated her daughter’s ill-fated ride in the rain.
“I find Miss Elizabeth’s unfailing devotion to her sister’s care quite admirable,” Charles said.
Caroline smiled blandly. “Perhaps, Mr Darcy, but I fear this adventure might have effected your opinion of her fine eyes.”
Charles regarded her with some confusion, which was no wonder since he hadn’t been present when Darcy had confessed his admiration of Elizabeth’s beauty to Caroline at a neighbour’s supper party.
Darcy now cursed himself for allowing that unguarded comment to slip.
If he’d known that Caroline would use it against him, he never would have uttered it.
He had unwittingly exposed himself to ridicule and Elizabeth to retaliation.
“How unbecoming. One might suspect that you’re jealous of Miss Elizabeth. ”
Caroline scoffed. “I? Jealous of Eliza Bennet? I daresay you are jesting, Charles. Did you know that besides her uncle in Meryton, she has another in Cheapside,” she said with a muted snicker.
“Perfectly named for their vulgar relations,” Louisa said, clearly enjoying the joke.
“And what of our uncle, Caroline?” Darcy inquired, appalled by their incivility and high-handedness. “Do you suppose that Blackburn Mills is a more prestigious location than Cheapside? It brings to mind something about glass houses and stones.”
Caroline glared at Darcy, supposedly her brother.
“If they had uncles enough to fill Cheapside, I wouldn’t like them one jot less,” Charles said, then stalked off.
“You forget yourself, Caroline,” Fitzwilliam said, entirely out of patience with her conduct. “If you hope to recommend yourself to Darcy with such vile comments about our guests, you’ve widely mistaken his character. I shall hear no more of it.”
“What’s come over you, Charles?”
“A proper hostess would see to her guests’ comfort rather than making snide comments about them while they’re out of the room.
Henry may tolerate such conduct under his roof, but I won’t abide it under mine.
I trust I’ve made myself clear.” Although Darcy had no qualms about voicing this observation, he doubted Hurst would thank him for it.
“You need not take that tone with me,” Caroline said with an indignant sniff. “Papa never spoke to me that way.”
“If you must gossip like a pair of fishwives, I would beg you to do so privately. Don’t embarrass me in front of Darcy again.”
He stormed out of the room and left the house through the side door.
Once outdoors, he paced, cursing himself for losing command of his temper.
Hurst would certainly disapprove of his latest outburst, and Charles would never have resorted to such behaviour, but his sisters had put Darcy all out of patience.
A cool breeze soothed his ire as he turned towards the stables.
Perhaps a short visit with Bart would put him in a better frame of mind.
A familiar voice drew him towards another stall where he found Elizabeth speaking in a soothing tone to a chestnut mare while feeding her apple wedges.
She smiled at his approach. “Jane asked me to check on Ginger,” she said. “The poor girl hates the rain.”
“She seems content now.”
“She’s a gentle soul,” she said, offering another treat.
“Do you ride?” he inquired, thinking she looked perfectly at ease in the stables.
She shook her head. “Jane is the only rider in the family. I prefer to walk.”
Yes, she had made that obvious by trudging three miles through the mud to reach her sister. “If you wish to learn, I can instruct you on the basics,” he said, anticipating a pleasurable outing with her.
“You need not trouble yourself, Mr Bingley.”
“It would give me a chance to make amends,” he said, then quickly added, “for my friend.”
Her carefree air vanished, along with her smile.
“No, indeed. I wouldn’t expect that from you, and besides, it would hold no sway with me.
Mr Darcy has offered no apologies so I doubt he suffers the smallest remorse for his unkind comments at the assembly,” she said, averting her eyes. “He’s probably forgotten all about it.”
Darcy flinched at her undisguised revulsion of him. Now desperate to secure her pardon and make amends, he resolved to discuss the matter with Charles.
“I should go,” she said, backing away. “Jane will worry if I don’t return with a good report.”
“I’ll see you at supper,” he said, and she rushed off.
As he watched her retreating form, he cursed himself for allowing a single derogatory comment about her to enter his mind or cross his lips. He had done her a grave disservice, and she deserved better treatment from a gentleman of his standing.
***
Charles stared out through the library window, silently berating himself for never correcting his sister’s bad behaviour.
Over the years, he had overlooked her snide comments, but she could have no possible excuse for insulting a guest in his home.
He could only suppose that he had Darcy to thank for Caroline’s latest misstep.
His imperious, thoughtless, and cruel comment about Miss Elizabeth at the assembly must have inspired her to resort to the same poor conduct.
She must suppose that her fortune allowed her the privilege of disregarding common courtesy, but she couldn’t be more mistaken.
Unlike Caroline, Miss Elizabeth was a gentleman’s daughter and worthy of every respect.
The community may forgive Darcy for his social lapses, but they wouldn’t extend the same allowances to a mill owner’s daughter, regardless of her fortune.
Although Charles had witnessed similar distasteful conduct at the club, he was ever mindful of his roots in trade and strove to extend every common civility to all people in his path.
Doing otherwise wouldn’t go unnoticed in the first circles, and his fortune wouldn’t protect him from social ruination.
Caroline would do well to follow his example.
Once he had restored his composure, he left the library and observed a footman heading to the sitting parlour with the morning post.
“The post has arrived, sir,” Philip said, offering the tray to Darcy.
Darcy scanned the two letters. “Ah, one for me and one for Darcy,” he said, passing one to Charles. Not wishing to open Darcy’s personal correspondence, Charles slipped it into his pocket, until he could exchange it in private.
“A letter from Miss Darcy, perhaps?” Caroline said with an expectant air.
“I’ll read it later,” Charles said, refusing to play into her schemes. “Shouldn’t you attend to your guests?”
After exchanging meaningful glances with Louisa, Caroline offered an indulgent smile. “I doubt Jane wishes us to hover over her every minute of the day. She or Miss Eliza will ring if they need anything.”
Charles had no desire to spend the morning with his sisters. “Shall we adjourn to the billiard room, Charles?”
Without hesitating, Darcy rose and headed for the door.
“Yes, by all means, Charles,” Caroline said in a sarcastic tone. “Go off and play your games. Louisa and I shall fend for ourselves.”
“Now who’s being tiresome?” Darcy said under his breath as they left the parlour.
Once in seclusion, they swapped letters. “It’s from Georgiana,” Darcy said, tucking it into his pocket. “I’ll write to her and have you seal it.”
Charles agreed, then scanned his own letter. “My man of business wants me to come to town to settle a few pressing matters.”
“Can you fob him off?”
“I’ve already done so once, but I don’t have much choice now,” he said, his frustration rising. “There is no possibility of you settling my affairs on my behalf.”
“No indeed. It must be delayed until we have resumed our real identities.”
This was yet another problem added to Charles’s already heavy burden. “I’ll send my reply, but I can’t put him off indefinitely.”
“No, we’ll figure it out.”
That’s exactly what Darcy had said yesterday, but as of yet, the solution still eluded them.
***
As Darcy sat beside Elizabeth at supper, their conversation in the stables continued to plague him.
He had thought of little else since then, and the enormity of his blunder was never more apparent.
He was desperate to apologise for insulting her, but such a private discussion was not meant for the supper table, nor would Charles Bingley have any cause to make such a confession to her.
She wore a blue gown that suited her to perfection, and her hair had been arranged into soft curls around her face, enhancing her expressive eyes.
She was everything lovely, and nothing like the ladies in the first circles of society who gazed at him with longing and agreed with his every utterance.
Elizabeth never regarded him as though he were some prize to be won.
He doubted that she was fully aware of how desirable she was, or how much he craved her good opinion.
He could only wonder how a woman who had made no overtures to him had enthralled him so completely, but perhaps that was precisely the reason he admired her. She expected nothing from him other than friendship.
That was, of course, her friendship with Charles. Darcy could have no illusion that she had similar expectations from him.