Chapter Eighteen #3
Elizabeth nearly missed a step of the dance as she wondered what he meant. “Oh – I asked about her and Mr. Bingley! My curiosity was entirely impertinent, but I daresay she has satisfied it through her determined refusal to take my hints seriously.”
“Precisely so. I have a suspicion that she may be struggling to admit to herself that she is capable of tender feelings for anybody; I am only chagrined that after so many years of acquaintance, I never thought of it before, and neither did Richard.”
“I suppose Miss Bingley’s opinions did not lend the notion any credulity?”
He smiled again. “They may have been a deterrent to my friend and cousin – nobody of good sense has ever made the suggestion to them. He may hesitate because of the disparity in their stations, but Lady Rebecca is a complex creature, so set on being irreverent that I fear the deliberations that are inherently part of a tender attachment may be unpalatable to her ungovernable disposition.”
Elizabeth shuddered under the potency of his gaze.
She could certainly understand how a lady might fear to examine the inner workings of her own heart, especially if there was any hesitation that the match may not be a prudent one.
For a moment, she could see that he understood this, and she spoke before he could lay her own dilemma bare.
“I gather Mr. Bingley was unlucky in love before he met… my family.”
“I have done what I can for him in society, but my good name and his charming manners have only gotten him so far. He has aimed too high before, and he will never be so bold again without strong encouragement.”
“I suppose Lady Rebecca must comprehend her own feelings before she can give him any real encouragement.”
Again Mr. Darcy looked at her so intently that she was sure they were not only speaking of their friends. He opened his mouth to speak, then paused and laughed. “She treats him like a minion – or some sort of deformed pet.”
Elizabeth burst out laughing. “Lord, in my mind’s eye, now I am conjuring visions of her leading him about like a prize hound.”
“Wagging his tail,” Mr. Darcy agreed. “But perhaps it is just what he needs. He told me you have promised to aid him in finding a wife. I confess, I am touched that you have been so affable to him, for I know he holds you in high esteem. Your sister appears vastly content, and I should like to see my friend happy, too.”
“I know you are his staunchest supporter, sir, but you must prepare yourself to be supplanted by your cousin, I think. But I am glad you are happy for Jane. I have observed your manners alter toward the captain, but today they were warm again.”
Mr. Darcy chuckled ruefully. “You should only laugh if I told you….”
“Fortunately, everybody loves hearing such enticing hints at something amusing, only to be denied satisfaction.”
He returned her arch look. “You would think me ridiculous.”
“‘Tis a possibility, either way. But you once told me that you would by no means suspend any pleasure of mine.”
“If you are going to mention how ghastly I behaved in Hertfordshire, telling you of my absurd folly seems a far better prospect.”
“You know such oddities delight me.” Elizabeth beamed at him, confident he wished to do just that.
He took in a deep breath before he answered her.
“I thought that you were once attached to Captain Wentworth. That is why – one reason, at least – I jumped in to save Jane when she went overboard. I thought him some cad who had trifled with your affections, only to now court your sister in your very presence.”
“Where did you get such a mad notion? Jane would never stand for it! I should likely have punched him in the nose, sir.”
“I can well believe it,” he laughed. “On the night of the musicale, your sister was seated between Rebecca and myself. I heard them speaking about Captain Wentworth having some prior attachment – Rebecca was offering to help with some manner of wickedness. I heard your sister say that it was you.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Impossible.” And then it struck her.
“Oh! Elizabeth – she thought it was Elizabeth Elliot, when in fact it is my friend Anne. The day after they went sailing, Anne told me that Jane confided in her – she had seen Miss Elliot sneering at the captain – for being new money – while Anne had been perfectly civil to him.”
Mr. Darcy nodded at her explanation, and Elizabeth could not resist smiling at how the misapprehension had troubled him. “I suppose I did not dispel your notion, churlish as I was to him. The day that you both rescued her, we spoke warmly and he dispelled my apprehensions."
“Confirming my own – I saw you take his hands….” Mr. Darcy ran a hand through his hair and looked away in mortification. He was well and truly bothered!
“I should be glad to call him brother, now that I am past calling him some very ungenerous things.” She had called Mr. Darcy a lot of things, too, none of which she could countenance repeating.
Perhaps Mr. Darcy was thinking the same, for the smile he gave her was tinged with something bittersweet. Elizabeth offered him the same in return, every inch of her screaming in ecstasy and annoyance at the mark he was making on her heart.