by Meg Osborne
He looked back at her, as if sensing her thoughts, and she hurriedly dropped her gaze, not wishing him to take her scrutiny for anything more than it was.
“Yes! That is it, exactly. Well, Miss Bennet?” He looked at Jane for a long moment, before recalling he had also extended the invitation to her sister. “Miss Elizabeth? Do come, won’t you, both? I know Caroline will be wild to see you, once we tell her you are in town.”
At this, Elizabeth was forced to clamp her mouth shut that her true feelings might not become known. Wild was certainly one word to describe the feelings she imagined Miss Bingley might have when she heard that her brother had not only meet the Miss Bennets but invited them to their ball. It was a conversation Elizabeth was glad they would not witness, for she did not rate Bingley’s chances of emerging from it unscathed.
“Oh, I am not sure...” Jane demurred.
“Of course, we shall be honoured to attend,” Elizabeth said. Now, she flicked a glance at Darcy, one of triumph for permitting what he himself had striven to prevent: Bingley and Jane would be together once more, and at a ball! Where better for falling in love? He met her gaze only for a moment, before dropping his eyes to the table in front of them, however, and his reaction left Elizabeth’s triumph feeling rather hollow.
“You must not judge us on the state of our attire, though, Mr Bingley!” Elizabeth said, with a laugh. “Recall, we are country girls at heart and only recently in London. Do not compare us too unfavourably with the elegant ladies the evening promises to parade in front of you.”
“As if there could be any such comparison!” Mr Bingley said, and the table laughed, but Lizzy noticed he had eyes only for Jane. Mr Darcy, she also noticed, did not make a sound.
***
If he had been sitting nearer to Bingley, Darcy would have been very tempted to crush his friend’s toes beneath the heel of his boot. As it was, he doubted such a gesture would go unnoticed by the ladies, particularly Elizabeth, who had scarcely failed to sense his thoughts whenever they turned to her, looking up at him as if by thinking of her he had called her name aloud.
Come to the ball, do come. His lips quirked. Caroline will be wild. Yes, he didn’t doubt she would be, but not in the sense Bingley imagined. He would find some quiet occupation far away from brother and sister when his friend delivered that piece of information, for he so disliked Caroline Bingley’s shrill reaction whenever she felt personally slighted. It was a state of affairs she seemed too easily slide into in the presence of any one of the Bennet sisters, undoubtedly magnified tenfold by this particular interaction taking place in London, and not the Bennets’ own county.
“You are very quiet, Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth said, again, when there was a lull in the conversation. “I trust you are not concerned that our presence at your party will diminish you in the opinion of others.”
“It is not my party, Miss Bennet,” Darcy said. He had intended the remark to be humorous, but his delivery clearly fell flat, for he saw hurt flash in Elizabeth’s dark eyes.
“My friend means that your presence can only increase the enjoyment of all at the ball!” Bingley said, crashing into the conversation and slapping Darcy warmly on the shoulder. “Indeed, it will be good for us to know a few more people present, for my sister is determined to invite all manner of guests I have never met nor heard tell of, isn’t she Darcy? We shall be overwhelmed by strangers.”
“Is that so?” Elizabeth smiled, turning away from Darcy to meet Bingley’s eyes. “Well, in that case, we should be delighted to attend. We hardly wish for you to be overwhelmed!”
The party laughed, and Darcy wondered how it was that Bingley could so easily converse with the Bennets as if he had known them his whole life. His friend scarcely ever lacked for anything to discuss, and if the topic was one he knew little about - such as the fashion for Christmas festivities amongst those who lived in the countryside, as opposed to those who sought society in London, as their small group seemed to be discussing at present - he asked questions and marvelled over the answers with such genuine interest that neither Bennet sister seemed able to resist speaking quite naturally with him.
“I feel certain we are boring you, sir,” Elizabeth said, and one again Darcy realised he had drawn her notice.
“Not at all,” he replied, forcing a smile onto his face. From the slight look of alarm that flickered across Elizabeth’s features in answer, though he could not help but wonder if he had been even remotely successful in his attempt at jollity.
“Surely you cannot be presumed to possess an opinion on the choice of parlour games one might prefer to play at a ball, if one cares not for dancing?” She looked at him sideways. “Or, forgive me, but I am sure that is just the thing you would profess an opinion of, for you do not dance, is that not right?”
“I do not always dance, Miss Bennet. I did not say I never dance.”
“Indeed?”
“You will dance tomorrow, Darcy, for Caroline shall hardly let you escape without dancing at least, oh, three times with her.”
Darcy grimaced, attempting to rearrange the reaction into a good-natured smile, but he felt certain at least one person present at the table had seen and deduced his true feelings.
“Are you finished your tea, Miss Bennet? Miss Elizabeth?” Darcy asked, feeling he ought to draw the interview to a close.
“Oh, yes,” Jane said, gathering herself. “You are quite right, Mr Darcy, we have taken far too much of your time. Come, Lizzy, we should get back and meet Aunt Gardiner.”
“Allow us to accompany you!” Bingley was standing almost before he had got the words out, and reluctantly Darcy followed him. At this rate, we are unlikely to leave the Miss Bennets alone an hour before tomorrow gets here! He was not sure whether the idea was a comfort or a terror to him.
“You need not accompany us, gentlemen,” Elizabeth said, with a polite smile to each. “Although I do thank you for the offer. Your home is but a few steps from here, and it would be quite wrong of us to take you out of your way,”
“It is not out of our way!” Charles protested. “Here, Darcy, tell them -”
“Actually,” Darcy began. “I do have some correspondence I must attend to, and Charles -” He had meant to remind Charles that they did indeed have responsibilities requiring their attention, and a further delay would not be appreciated by Bingley’s sister nor their servants. The gentlemen had planned only a short excursion to the park and back and had already been gone far longer than they had suggested they would be.
“You see?” Elizabeth said, with a laugh. “At least Mr Darcy is honest, he prefers to pore over his letters than to spend a moment longer with us. Come along, Jane, we shall happily accompany one another.” She turned to the gentlemen. “And gratefully see you both tomorrow.”
Their goodbyes were said, with barely contained affection and enthusiasm on one side, and tempered visibly by the restraint and formality of the other, but at last Darcy and Bingley were alone once more.
“I dare say you might have smiled a little more,” Bingley said, lightly, as the men retraced their steps back to the house. “You forget that when people do not know you as I do you have a tendency to look rather fierce on occasion.”
“Is that so?” Darcy remained impassive: he had heard this same complaint from his friend on more than one occasion and it had long since ceased to concern him. “I am sure you were enthusiastic enough for both of us. Indeed, you and Miss Bennet scarcely seemed aware of the existence of anybody save yourselves.”
“I do think she is a wonderful creature,” Bingley said. “I feared, removing so suddenly, that she would forget me before I had chance to go back: you know I do so loathe to write and could hardly comprehend how best to address her by letter. In person, it is all so much easier.”
And therein lies the difference between you and me! Darcy marvelled at his friend’s assertion. He loathed speaking in person and given the chance of writing felt sure that it would be the very best way to commu
nicate anything, be it business or affection.
“Come along, Bingley, we shall be late. I do not wish to give your sister any further ammunition to target us with. I am not so convinced as you are of her reaction to your expanding tomorrow’s guest list by two people, and would rather not add lateness or a missed meal to our slate of sins...”
Chapter Four
The elegant hallway at Langton Place was festooned with greenery, blanketing the room with the heavy scent of pine. Elizabeth had to credit Miss Bingley on her good taste, if little else. The wide, white walls were rendered warm and inviting by the interplay of twinkling candlelight with the swags. It might have lacked the homey feel of Longbourn’s cut paper decorations, and the refined strains of music they heard on entering could not begin to match Mary’s hammering away at the old familiar Christmas songs, but even Elizabeth had to admire the room’s prettiness.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she breathed, walking a little closer to Jane and suddenly feeling dreadfully out of place around the elegant and eligible guests Caroline Bingley had clearly taken great pains to select. Still, Elizabeth contented herself, at least we have new gowns. Mama’s extravagance had paid dividends, for Jane’s pale eau de nil reflected the light and made her seem almost ethereal, whereas Lizzy’s hearty winter green suited her dark hair and eyes and brought colour back into her pale complexion. They were, as their Aunt Gardiner had pronounced, “beautiful, elegant young ladies certain to have a wonderful time.” Well, the first part is true at least, Lizzy reasoned. The last will remain to be seen.
“Miss Bennet, Miss Eliza. How wonderful that you could join us.” Caroline Bingley’s greeting was all politeness, but lacking in any glimmer of sincerity.
“Your brother was so kind to invite us,” Elizabeth replied, smoothly.
Caroline’s eyes flickered, but her expression remained the same haughty half-smile that was so familiar to the Bennets on even their short acquaintance with her.
“Your rooms are beautifully decorated,” Jane said, smiling. “We were just admiring them.”
“Oh, I did not trouble myself over much in decorating them just so. Servants these days will handle almost everything,” Caroline said, airily. “Besides, I do think it is important one does not decorate too much.”
Elizabeth thought again of the heaps of swags and ribbons Mrs Bennet preferred and felt certain that Caroline Bingley would disapprove, and claim their home felt cluttered and definitely too much.
“Actually I rather like it when there are a lot of decorations,” she said, determined to bait the young woman a little more, and still angry at her treatment of Jane. “After all, Christmas only comes but once a year.”
“Of course.”
“Miss Bennet!” Mr Bingley crossed the room and stood next to his sister. “Both Miss Bennets! How wonderful. Do come inside, it is much warmer near the fire. And we must see to some refreshments!”
Elizabeth struggled to maintain her composure at the vicious look Miss Bingley afforded her brother, as he whisked both she and Jane further into the room. He took great pleasure, it seemed to Elizabeth, in introducing Jane to a number of people she didn’t recognise but were clearly friends and close acquaintances, from the interest they took in meeting Miss Bennet. Lizzy did not even feel at all slighted when he quite forgot to include her in the introduction, so distracted was he in explaining who people were to the delighted Jane. Taking this as her cue, Lizzy slipped away, eager for the dancing to start that she might find some occupation. She stepped out into the corridor, hoping only for a moment of peace and quiet, but soon found this was just as crowded. Turning a door handle, she found herself in a small room that must serve as their library, and sighed with relief. This would allow Jane time alone with Bingley - at least, time without Elizabeth hovering close by - and still she would not be bored. She ran her eyes over the shelves, surprised to see titles that were of interest to her. Who knew that Caroline Bingley possessed such similar literary tastes? she thought, with a smirk.
A sound from the corner of the room startled her and the smirk vanished. No, not a sound, a cough. She spun around, already eager to apologise to whomever she had disturbed.
“Miss Bennet,” Mr Darcy got quickly to his feet.
“Mr Darcy!” Elizabeth cursed herself for not pausing to check the room was empty before hurrying inside. “I am so sorry, I had no idea you were here, I -”
“You don’t need to leave!” he said, quickly. “At least, not on my account. Please, continue to peruse.” He cleared his throat once more. “Although, if I may say, it is a little hasty to presume the party will be so dull as to require the distraction of a good book at its very beginning.”
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. Was that a joke? Surely not, she thought, turning her attention back to the bookshelves and unable to give Mr Darcy the scrutiny she wished without appearing overly interested in his person.
“And yet, Mr Darcy, I see that you have sought refuge from the crowds already. You are not eager to be out amongst your friends?”
“Bingley’s friends,” Darcy corrected her. “And I shall find my way out to greet them again in time. I decided it best to let brother and sister begin it, as they are hosts.” He hesitated a moment, and Elizabeth felt certain he was about to say more. Thinking better of it, he crossed the small room to join her in front of the shelves. “And what do you intend to read this evening, Miss Bennet?”
“I am half-surprised to see anything I would be interested in sitting here on the shelves.” Lizzy marvelled, tracing one title with her fingertips. “Who knew that Miss Bingley and I would share an affection for these particular authors?”
“Ah,” Mr Darcy dropped his gaze. “Here I am afraid I must disappoint you, for these books do not belong to Miss Bingley.”
“Of course,” Elizabeth felt her cheeks warm at her silly mistake. They have taken the house for a few weeks only, why would she bring all of her own belongings?
“Yet I suppose the revelation will be equally surprising to you,” Darcy continued, in that same tone of voice that, from any other person, might be amusement. “They belong to me.”
“To you?” Elizabeth could barely keep her incredulous reaction from showing in her features. “But -”
“I know it is hard to believe I read anything at all, let alone books you yourself prize, Miss Bennet -”
“That is not what I meant!”
“Indeed.”
A knock at the door stifled any chance of further discussion, and they both looked up as Caroline Bingley hurried into the room.
“Mr Darcy, Charles was right, here you are!” Her too-bright smile faded when she saw that Darcy was not alone, and Elizabeth felt the full force of that lady’s ire summed up in her greeting. “And Miss Eliza, good evening. You cannot both have been intending to hide the whole evening in a poky old study, I hope?” She snapped her eyes back to Darcy without waiting for Elizabeth’s response. “We are about to start dancing and I did think you might care to take part.”
“Of course,” Mr Darcy said, politeness reigning once more. Caroline looked at him expectantly and Elizabeth waited for him to escort her back to the party. To her great surprise, however, he turned to Elizabeth herself.
“You once alluded to being fond of dancing, Miss Bennet, perhaps we might both try to enjoy the party a little more and hide a little less this evening. Would you do me the honour of dancing with me?"
***
It wasn’t improper to ask Elizabeth Bennet to dance, instead of Caroline Bingley. There was no agreement, spoken or otherwise, about her having any rights of possession over Darcy's time, but even so, he felt that in preferring to ask Elizabeth and not Caroline, he had made a misstep. No doubt he would pay for it later, for if Caroline Bingley’s plans were upset and you were to blame, she made certain you felt it.
He sighed, and led Elizabeth to their right position in the crowd of dancers, noticing the surprised look Jane Bennet sent her sister. He did not dare to se
e the answering glance Elizabeth might return, focusing instead on the music and the elegant dance unfolding around them.
“My sister and Mr Bingley make a charming couple, do they not?”
Elizabeth’s comment had been murmured as she passed him, and Darcy had a moment to consider his reply before she was once more in front of him.
“Ah, I see you do not share my opinion.” Her lips quirked.
“I did not say that,” Darcy protested. “But unlike you, I am not in the habit of remarking aloud every thought that flashes through my mind.” He smiled, to show that he was teasing, not critical, and was gratified to see Elizabeth smile at him, after frowning for half a moment while she considered his response.
“In a house filled with four sisters one must speak one’s mind as quickly and often as one can, or forever be overlooked,” she replied, mimicking his teasing tone.
“And yet here in London, there is just you and Miss Bennet. Are not your other sisters disappointed to stay at Longbourn?”
Elizabeth grimaced.
“I expect they are. Kitty and Lydia will be, anyway.”
Darcy nodded. He recalled the giddy younger Bennet sisters from their last gathering, and winced. He was not unduly upset to be spared their company this Christmas.
“But Jane is with me, and she is my dearest friend as well as my sister, so I will be contented.” Elizabeth continued, with another glance over her shoulder to where Bingley and she were dancing. Darcy followed her gaze this time, and had to acknowledge what he had never fully appreciated before. The pair before him moved almost as if they were one person and scarcely seemed to notice there was any other couple in the room. Yet it was not just Bingley’s manner that arrested Darcy’s observation. He had known his friend was in love with Miss Jane Bennet almost before Bingley had admitted to it. But this time it was Jane’s face that spoke plainly of her affection for his friend. Contrasting with her anxiety the previous day in the park, Darcy noticed how her features relaxed into a half-smile, the peace that dictated her pace. He had not seen these changes visible at Netherfield, nor any of the places they had been in common before, but now he reproached himself for being so short sighted.
