Chapter Two
The assembly was described by Elizabeth to her sister Jane as a delight, despite the awkwardness of Mr. Darcy’s comment about her being too pretty to be moral, which had been widely spread about by Mrs. Long.
If Elizabeth dwelt overlong in her detailing for her blind sister her impressions of Mr. Darcy’s fine appearance, haughty nose and strong jaw, well-tailored coat and fitted white breeches, Elizabeth hoped that Jane thought she had merely noticed so much out of pique and not prurient fascination.
Unfortunately, despite Mrs. Bennet’s crowing at the brilliance of her success in seeing Elizabeth as the first person outside his own party to dance with Mr. Bingley, Elizabeth considered that amiable gentleman as being of no particular interest.
She had the joy, such as it was, in thinking that she had evidently not been to Mr. Bingley’s particular interest either, as he had made her no second offer of a dance.
This, despite Elizabeth looking particularly well.
Sarah, the maid who naturally, as her mother was Mrs. Bennet’s lady’s maid, served the Bennet daughters, had proved to have a particular talent for making the most of Elizabeth’s beauty over the past months.
Mrs. Bennet’s hopes, though dimmed, were not quenched, as the only person in the room that Mr. Bingley danced with twice was Miss Darcy.
“Depend upon it,” Mrs. Bennet said when they were at home, as she described for her husband the events of the ball, “Mr. Darcy means to force his friend to marry his sister. You have heard how he forced Mr. Bingley to dance with her twice. I cannot say that I saw any attachment between them. Lizzy, the only reason he did not ask you for a second dance was fear that it would offend his friend. Depend upon it. You might steal Mr. Bingley from Miss Darcy if only you make a little effort.”
“I thank you, ma’am, for this advice. I have always considered theft to be a highly honourable endeavour.”
“Lord! What nonsensical scruples. It is not like taking money from a man’s strongbox,” Mrs. Bennet replied.
“Is not the statement,” Mary offered, “that all is fair in love and war applicable to such a situation? The word theft, it seems to me, can possess many different meanings, only some of which imply that the one executing the theft has failed in a moral duty.”
“I stand corrected,” Elizabeth replied, smiling yet wider. “If even Mary says so, then it must be an honourable endeavour.”
“Now, Lizzy,” her father asked, smiling, “to what depths of melancholy are you sunk at not dancing with our amiable neighbour twice?”
“The anguish is beyond belief. The fountains of my eyes will presently burst forth in a geyser the like of which has not been seen in this land for many years.”
“Do not joke, Lizzy!” her mother exclaimed. “Your father might die any day—”
“I do not feel particularly decrepit,” he interrupted.
“You are over fifty! And then what will become of us? Jane especially! She will need to be cared for. If only God had not cursed me! First, he did not give me a son, and then my most beautiful daughter was struck blind and scarred till she is hideous. And Mr. Bennet has no concern for my nerves.”
Elizabeth took Jane’s hand. “The scarring is not so bad as Mama always suggests.”
“I used to say to myself,” Mrs. Bennet continued, “that Jane could not be so beautiful for nothing. I believed that she would be the salvation of us all. All for nothing.”
“You, my dear,” Mr. Bennet said calmly but with that unpleasant spark in his manner that came when this subject was canvassed, “ought to blame yourself. The rest of the children received Jenner’s vaccine. It was you who refused to allow it to be given to Jane.”
“Oh, must you say this again? Must you? It was merely chance that made the difference. I never received the vaccination, and I suffered no lasting harm from the disease.”
“Mama, Papa!” Jane exclaimed. “Please do not argue so. Not about me. You know I hate it.”
“Oh, very well,” Mrs. Bennet replied. “But tell me this. How shall we care for you when your papa dies if Lizzy does not marry well? We shall not have the money to pay for servants to read to you, then. I do not know that we shall not be near starving after we have been thrown out of this house when Mr. Bennet has been buried.”
“I still feel,” Papa insisted, smiling, “to be in the best of health.”
“And Lizzy will never marry. I am sure of it now. You ought to have heard that terrible Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Bennet continued.
“He danced with Charlotte Lucas twice, but he did not talk to her for half of the second. I would give fifty guineas to know how she offended him so; she ordinarily looks out for her own interest. Well, right where Lizzy and Mrs. Long both heard, Mr. Darcy declared that Miss Lucas was not pretty at all! She is not, but he was a guest in our neighbourhood! He should not have dared say so much.”
“Him saying that at a ball is quite different from you frequently repeating it with satisfaction whenever Charlotte is not present,” Mr. Bennet agreed.
“He then claimed Lizzy had an immoral character. Just from looking at her!”
“Our Lizzy!” Jane exclaimed in shock. “No, I cannot believe that anyone would say such a thing.”
“That shows good judgment on your part,” Elizabeth replied, “as he did not.”
“He did,” Mrs. Bennet replied. “Only Lizzy wishes to pretend what he said was kinder than it is. But you should not take it so seriously. He has a guilty conscience that makes him imagine everyone else has an ill character. They say that he threw his wife from a balcony in cold blood. I am not surprised Charlotte danced with him. She is so desperate for a position that she would risk being murdered to find one. Being so very unhandsome, she cannot expect any offer from a decent sort.”
“Mama, please do not speak so insultingly of our particular friend. Charlotte detected no hint of murderousness in Mr. Darcy. She said as much to me.”
“Hmph,” Mrs. Bennet replied. “He could hardly be expected to murder someone during a public assembly. But depend upon it, he murders women regularly in his own rooms.”
“That is quite a scandalous thing to say about a gentleman,” Mr. Bennet said. “Please do not accuse our neighbours of murder.”
“I merely repeat what everyone says.”
“I liked Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth offered.
“I went wrong in the raising of you. I cannot understand why you spent your time cavorting with a young girl instead of pursuing the gentlemen.”
Elizabeth shrugged.
Mrs. Bennet now asked, “Do you know why Mr. Bingley refused to dance with you again?”
“On the contrary, Mama, he happily pursued dances with other women in preference to a second turn with me, but there was no refusal.”
“That is worse!”
Mr. Bennet sardonically asked, “Is it?”
“Mr. Bennet!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. “You know that it is.”
Mr. Bennet caught Elizabeth’s eye. “Lizzy, you do not seem to be offended by the notion that our new neighbour bachelor, proclaimed as your property since you danced with him first, prefers other ladies to you. Do you not think it would be more propitious if he particularly hated you?”
“It would not be,” Elizabeth replied.
“And here I thought Mr. Bingley a good-looking sort,” her father teased. “But I am no judge of male beauty.”
Soon afterwards Mr. Bennet loudly declared his exhaustion, and that sent everyone to bed.
Elizabeth went up with Jane to talk over the evening in private.
Since her sister had become blind, Elizabeth had always made a particular effort to take notice of many of the colours and physical details of events she went to, so that she could give her an accurate description of them.
Jane had less interest this night in the lace on Miss Bingley’s gown than in information about the single gentlemen.
In response to her sister’s question about whether she really did not like Mr. Bingley or if she affected disinterest to avoid being teased by Papa and tormented by Mama, Elizabeth replied with a huff, “The man exudes bland good nature.”
“What a person!” Jane replied with a laugh. “I can scarce imagine that such a monster has entered our neighbourhood. I fear for the chickens and the children.”
“I could not love Mr. Bingley. If I am to marry a man, I ought to have a strong feeling in his direction.”
“You must not marry if you are not in love. You know that.” Jane put her hand on Elizabeth’s face. “Dear Elizabeth, you liked this Miss Darcy?”
“Very much. Though her brother was quite amusing to watch.”
“It is shocking what Mama said about his wife.”
“I would place no great reliance upon that tale. I refuse, on general grounds, to believe shocking stories about people I meet. The truth is always sordid. The tale that she could not join her lover and so she killed herself is more probable by far than the allegation that Mr. Darcy killed her. There is something harsh in his looks. Mr. Darcy is deeply unhappy—or that is what he appears to be. His sister is filled with concern for him. It speaks well to him that a sweet girl like Miss Darcy can be a devoted sister, and that she claims him to be the best of men. But I can never forget, nor forgive, hearing him insult Charlotte.”
“You do not mind that he cast an aspersion on your character?”
“There was too much of flattery in that to leave me anything but pleased. I am a vain creature, I fear.” Elizabeth imitated the deep tones of a man’s voice. “I never trust particularly pretty women.”
Elizabeth and Jane laughed together.
Jane said, “Poor man, he must have been terribly hurt by his wife if he is filled with such bitterness. But I am sure it was a matter of misunderstanding. If they had made the effort to love each other better, they would have found a way to be happy.”
“That is much like you,” Elizabeth replied. “But even if Mrs. Darcy had a lover, I shall not judge her with harshness. With such a rude man for a husband—I would not like to be married to him. You may depend upon it. I will not let my head be turned by the flattery of such a handsome and rich man.”
Jane laughed. “His statement showed more misogyny than anything else. And to say it about a woman he had barely met… I see why you do not take his words seriously.”
“I take them too seriously.” Elizabeth laughed.
“It is stupid on my part, but despite what else he said, and his awful rudeness to Charlotte, I must vigorously fight the tendency to think well of him simply because he flattered my vanity. I may not succeed. And if I fail and do fall in love with him, I shall inevitably believe him to have been a murderer, for what could be more romantic than that?”
The next day the Bennet ladies walked to Lucas Lodge, Elizabeth leading Jane by the arm down the mile-long path.
They found Charlotte in good spirits, and she laughed when reminded by Mrs. Bennet about how shocking it was that Mr. Darcy had insulted her.
In reply to Charlotte’s clear amusement at having been declared (and reminded regularly that she had been) not a pretty partner, Mrs. Bennet said, “Lord! How can you be so happy? I would sink in shame and be miserable forever if anyone insulted my looks at a ball.”
Charlotte laughed. “I take the world as I find it. Mr. Darcy is a confusing figure. But I never pretended to myself that I was the handsomest woman in a room—his praise of Eliza was sincere. My dear Elizabeth, did I tell you that Mr. Darcy asked about you during our second dance?”
“No!” Elizabeth blushed. She could not help it. Laughingly she said, “With such encouragement, I shall soon fancy that he is in love with me.”
Mr. Darcy was a very handsome man.
“He said you were immoral.” Mrs. Bennet shook her head. “Why would you think he might be in love with you?”
“We are joking,” Elizabeth said hurriedly. She did not wish her mother to imagine that she had hopes from Mr. Darcy.
Her mother replied, “Oh, Lizzy, you do joke so. Too much like your father.”
“A woman’s reputation,” Mary said, “is of the greatest importance. Any stain upon it cannot be wiped away, no matter what the future may bring. We must always be careful to never permit a hint of scandal to touch us. That this Mr. Darcy suggested you would engage in immoral behaviour, without any cause, suggests that he has poor judgment and poor morals himself.”
Elizabeth laughed. “A poor disappointed man. And what is more, he is clearly sad.”
“Yes,” Charlotte said. “I heard definite information that his wife had engaged in an intrigue, and for that reason he locked her in her rooms for a week before her death.”
Elizabeth said, “I wonder what his character and temperament would be if he was not suffering from such a disappointment.”
“He is a terrible man.” That was Mrs. Bennet’s pronouncement. “He refused to dance with you, and he was rude to Charlotte.”
“He was rude to me,” Charlotte said. “But men in general are not to my liking, so I do not mind that so very much. An odd man. I can hardly guess what he was about asking me to dance a second time.”
“Hmph, well if you do not mind a man calling you ugly, that is your prerogative,” Mrs. Bennet stated.
Elizabeth thought her mother was more than a little annoyed that Charlotte had enjoyed two sets with the richer of the two single gentlemen, while her daughters collectively could boast only the one set that Elizabeth had danced with Mr. Bingley.