Her part in his torment was uppermost in his mind as he listened to Miss Bingley scold him for his shocking common behaviour this evening and lecture him on the unsuitability of these people as friends for Mr. Darcy of Pemberley.
“It was absurd of Charles to come here,” she declared, “but you and I must uphold our standards in this countrified society. There is no need for such a man as you to make an effort to fit in.”
“I was having fun,” he said stubbornly.
“With such dreadful young ladies,” she said scornfully. “Indeed, they scarcely are ladies. I have never met with anybody so ill-befitting the use of that word.”
“They are not so dreadful when you get to know them,” he defended his new friends. “Their manners might be unpolished, but they are cheerful and unpretentious girls.”
It occurred to him now that he really had been having fun. It was not something which happened to him very often and he had enjoyed the experience. He had begun his dance with Miss Bingley in a more sedate fashion, but now he defiantly began to prance about and kick his legs up again. The horrified expression on her face was delightful.
His next two partners were much more agreeable. Miss Bennet was undoubtedly the most beautiful of the five sisters after all. This did not much affect him, but her calmness and serenity did. It was impossible to maintain an ill temper in the presence of such an angel. She made him feel that it would be beastly of him to do so. She would make some man a delightful wife one day. Preferably a man of a cheerful disposition. Nobody else could deserve such a creature. Certainly not a man such as himself with his inclinations toward ill humour and bitterness.
Miss Lucas was an intelligent young lady whose ideas were neither quoted nor unoriginal. Her conversation was an excellent way to end the evening, and after bowing to her at the end of the dance, he intended to find himself a quiet corner, but in looking about the room, he saw Miss Elizabeth talking and laughing with some friends. Her face was lit up with amusement and the attraction which he had earlier felt returned with a deeper intensity. Perhaps it was because, of all these sisters, she was the one whose temper most closely matched his own, he thought cynically. He strode toward her with stubborn determination and reminded her of her engagement for the last dance.
“I had not expected you to have any strength left for it,” she said.
“I could dance all night,” he lied. He was very much looking forward to collapsing upon his bed as soon as the evening was over.
“You do seem to be exceptionally fond of dancing.” Her disdainful smile made him feel a twinge of mortification for his earlier performance. She would not have looked down upon him if he had not been tempted into such a degree of absurdity. She would have known his pride this evening, and it would have given him a great pleasure to avoid dancing with her. But that was an absurd line of thinking. If things had taken a different turn, he would not have had any reason to be annoyed with her.
Anyway, his actions had been taken, and he still thought them done for the best. Miss Bingley had not been in any good humour with him during their dance. If he kept this up, there might yet be hope of release from this sentence of marriage.
If the possibility of being friends with Miss Elizabeth Bennet was to be a casualty of his campaign, then he thought it a reasonable sacrifice. He was not quite ready to give up on her, however. In an effort to get a smile out of her, he chatted in what he hoped was an amusing fashion throughout their dance. Exhausted by the evening, he hardly knew what he said, but it did not have the desired effect.
“You seem quite determined to dislike me,” he said in sudden bluntness.
“Dislike? I do not have so strong an opinion of you,” she protested.
“But you disapprove of me. I could see it in your eyes when you exchanged dances with Miss Bingley.”
“I did not intend to be disapproving. I only wished to be of assistance to your fiancée.”
“But you thought I ought to have danced with her sooner,” he persisted.
“If you will insist upon knowing it, I suppose I did think you might have paid your fiancée a little more attention.”
“I believe that my being engaged to her is already the greatest mark of attention? I did not think it necessary to dance with her.”
“I suppose that is how things are done in fashionable circles. You must excuse my opinion. I know little of the ways of fashion, but it seems that Miss Bingley does not either. It was evident she felt herself slighted.”
“You have taken her feelings very much to heart to be so offended on her behalf.”
“I am not offended, but if I were it would be on behalf of my sex. Your neglect of her was an affront to ladies everywhere. If I am ever so fortunate as to be engaged, I hope the gentleman will not use me as ill as you have used Miss Bingley this evening.”
“You do take a personal interest.”
“Not at all. I think only in a general way. You are the one who mentioned offense when there was no such thing; however, I did think it remiss of you not to have mentioned your engagement earlier. When entering into a new society, an engaged gentleman ought to make it clear at once that he is off the market.”
“You would refer to me as a commodity?”
“Surely you must have been aware of it for quite some time, sir. You will not be surprised to learn that everybody in this room by now has a very good idea of your worth and the size of your estate. That is the way of the world, and it must have been the case wherever else you have been. If you tell me that a whisper of your circumstances does not go around the room whenever you are introduced to a new company, I will not believe you.”
“I will not lie to you. That is always the case.”
“And as a result of it, I expect you become even more attractive in their eyes.”
He did not want to answer her, but the answer was in his expression.
“I thought as much. You do understand yourself to be a commodity. The appearance of a handsome and eligible young man is looked upon as a great stroke of good fortune in a quiet little society like ours, where there are not enough gentlemen to partner all the ladies at the assembly, as you may have noticed this evening. You can imagine how much excitement was occasioned by Mr. Bingley’s arrival in the neighbourhood. It was doubled by your appearance here this evening. Even before the precise value of your income was known, you were looked upon with great favour. In all fairness, you should have made it clear from the start that you were not unattached.”
He longed to cry that he was not at all attached. In spite of the animosity he had been feeling toward this young lady, it was to her alone of all the people he had met this evening that he wanted to declare the truth. He felt the disappointment of having failed to secure her good opinion. It seemed to him that it was something worth seeking. She really was a lady after his own heart, one of sound principles and a firm mind, with a fair degree of wit. It had amused him to hear her speak of Miss Bingley as being unaware of fashionable ways.
If the two of them had not stood as accomplices in the matter of the fourth dance, he might have tried harder to make a better impression upon her. She was, however, also the one person in the room who had earned the approval of his fiancée that evening, and that made her acquaintance particularly undesirable to him
“How can you be so certain that you have heard a correct estimation of my income?” he asked.
“The source of my information was Miss Bingley and she was very confident of it. One assumes your fiancée must have an excellent understanding of your resources. A young lady is generally inclined to make herself aware of such things before accepting an offer of marriage.”
“I am sure Miss Bingley knows exactly what I am worth,” he said. “I have met few young ladies who did not avail themselves of an opportunity to acquire that information as early as possible in our acquaintance.”
“It is the nature of things,” she said. “A lady wants to ascertain that her future will be secure with any pr
ospective suitors.”
“Some want to ascertain that they will have a large dress allowance and a good place in society. Such things generally guide their choice of suitor.”
“You have an astonishingly cynical view of marriage for a man recently engaged. Surely this should be the happiest period of your life.”
“Not the actual marriage?”
“That too should be a happy time, but the engaged gentleman enjoys the perfect anticipation of future bliss while the married one must face the reality that his lady has faults and shortcomings.”
“You seem to hold a cynical view of marriage yourself.”
“I am only realistic. It is impossible to find any person entirely perfect. But in a good marriage, where there is affection and suitability, flaws need not stand in the way of happiness.”
Miss Bingley’s flaws certainly stood in the way of his, Mr. Darcy thought angrily, but he spoke softly. “I should very much like to have such a marriage.”
“I cannot imagine any other. A marriage without mutual respect and affection would be intolerable. One would do better to remain single.”
“I quite agree,” he said, envying her the opportunity to seek that dream. They had not so far agreed on much, but in this instance her point of view was in accordance with his own.
They fell into a period of silence, during which he mulled over what she had said about his engaged state.
“I hope I have not offended anybody by giving rise to impossible expectations,” he said after a time.
Now she laughed. “Here we come to the truth of the matter. I have been too harsh on you. I really have no reason to think any of your partners this evening are especially offended. My two youngest sisters, although they have a great fondness for handsome gentleman, are at an age where they appreciate all of them without forming any partiality for one. I believe they think you very agreeable, but nothing more. You may have comprehended that my sister Mary is more interested in books than gentlemen or dancing. As for Jane, I saw no sign that her heart was in any way stirred by you, and my dear friend Miss Lucas is far too sensible to think a gentleman of great fortune meant anything more than ordinary politeness by dancing with her. So it seems you are without guilt after all.”
“You have not accounted for all of my partners,” he said provokingly.
“You have not offended me personally in any way. Like Miss Lucas, I never thought your asking me to dance meant anything significant. It was an act of politeness, and I have repaid you by being intolerably critical. I do apologize; however, I will point out that you did provoke me.”
“You provoked me in turn. Indeed, I had the impression that you enjoyed it.”
“I sometimes do. It is one of my flaws,” she acknowledged. “Perhaps I have done so because you are so universally liked. I cannot seem to help going against popular opinion at times.”
“I am universally liked?”
“Of course you are. Surely you must be used to meeting with such approval everywhere you go. My friends can speak of almost nothing but your open manners and cheerful temperament.”
“Are you sure they were not speaking of Mr. Bingley?”
“They were speaking of you both. Together you have made an excellent first impression but surely you must be aware of it.”
He had not been. He had enjoyed having fun and allowing himself to relax, but it had not occurred to him that he was earning such popularity and good opinion. This information gave him an unexpected feeling of pleasure. It was undoubtedly the first time in their friendship that he had been liked as much as Mr. Bingley. In the past, he had never grudged his friend’s obvious popularity, or even desired to have a share in it, but finding himself suddenly in that position was delightful. He only thought it a pity that he had not made an excellent impression on every member of the company, but he had hopes of yet winning over Miss Elizabeth Bennet with his newfound charm.
CHAPTER 3
Elizabeth had really not been particularly offended on Miss Bingley’s behalf, nor would she have greatly felt Mr. Darcy’s slight on behalf of her sex if he had not displeased her in another way. At first, she had observed his silliness with only a little scorn and a fair amount of diversion at seeing such folly in such an elegantly dressed gentleman. The inconsistency between apparel and manner had amused her, and seeing that the arrogant Miss Bingley did not care for his behaviour had given her some satisfaction. The lady had been disdainful when they were introduced and Elizabeth did not at all care for her.
The source of her displeasure had been the observation that Lydia was behaving even more outrageously than usual during and after her dance with Mr. Darcy. Kitty followed this example, and Elizabeth consider that in her case, Mr. Darcy was very much at fault for giving too much encouragement. In between dances he spoke often with her younger sisters and set them to more giggling and shrieking far too much for Elizabeth’s comfort. Even Mary, who was usually the most unsociable of her sisters, was heard to laugh a few times. In her case, it was hard to think his influence a bad one, since a laughing Mary made a better impression upon the company than a taciturn one, but still it was an example of his exceptional power, and she dreaded to think what effect he might have if many evenings were spent in his company.
She was hoping he might only be staying for a short time, but Miss Bingley’s information put an end to that hope. It was to be supposed that he would stay where his fiancée was, and for the moment she was planning to keep house for her brother.
Elizabeth did not swap dances with her out of any sympathy or understanding. The suggestion was Miss Bingley’s and it had been very strongly phrased, making refusal awkward. Not caring much whether she danced with Mr. Darcy or not, Elizabeth had found it easy to agree. She would have been perfectly capable of standing firmly against the suggestion, but nothing compelled her to make that effort. A moment later, she had regretted being so amenable. It had resulted in the seizing of her arm and an outpouring of friendly overtures. Her notions of rightness had been complimented in the condescending voice for which she was already forming a dislike, and she had not cared for being part of that spectacle.
Mr. Darcy had come along at that moment and some of her feeling had been vented by adopting a tone which hinted at disapproval as she informed him of the switch. His dislike of the arrangement had been evident, giving her doubt that he had intended even the Boulanger for Miss Bingley, but having foiled his plan gave her a certain amount of satisfaction. It was small revenge for his assistance in allowing her sisters to expose themselves, in the process humiliating those members of their family capable of feeling it: herself and Jane.
It had amused her to suggest that dancing with them might have worn him out and to offer him a way of avoiding the dance with her. Considering that he looked upon her with displeasure, she had expected him to take advantage of the opportunity and had been surprised when he came to claim the dance. His initial behaviour was also unexpected. He seemed to have an inclination to charm her along with everybody else. His conversation was quite ridiculous, but to her vexation, she found some of it amusing. Determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her smile, she put great effort into maintaining a serious expression, but several times gave way to a smile when he could not see her.
His sudden assumption of her dislike had been disconcerting, and in the resulting conversation, she had expressed more disapproval than suited such a brief acquaintance, but her conscience had been assuaged by feeling that he had unduly provoked her. It also seemed to her that he had rather enjoyed the argument, as she had done.
She spoke truthfully in telling him that he was extremely well-liked. It had been said many times during the evening and by nearly every person with whom she spoke. When they were not being charmed by his wit and lively conversation, they busied themselves in admiring it. His doubt of such popularity astonished her, but it made her give him some credit for not being a seeker of attention. Evidently all his foolishness came quite naturally
and was not intended to make a public display for the purpose of gaining friends indiscriminately.
Once the dance was over, the assembly came to a close, and Mr. Darcy’s leave-taking gave rise to a fresh bout of silliness. With Miss Bingley by his side, he furthered the company’s goodwill and Elizabeth’s irritation, for Kitty and Lydia were again following his example and drawing attention to themselves which would do their reputations no good. As a man, he could get away with so much more.
After the Netherfield party left, others lingered to talk of these new arrivals and repeat their satisfaction that Mr. Bingley had come into the neighbourhood. Not even Miss Bingley’s and Mrs. Hurst’s contemptuous manner and supercilious behaviour counted against him. After all, a man could not choose his sisters. It was generally agreed to be a pity that he had not chosen to leave them in London, but they could not overshadow the pleasure of knowing him and Mr. Darcy.
The two men were appreciated by nobody as much as they were by Mrs. Bennet. Elizabeth, quite willing to have the evening come to end, had to wait a little longer while her mother boasted of Mr. Darcy’s generous attentions to them, and Kitty and Lydia sang his praises. In the carriage, they continued to talk of nothing else, and she felt compelled several times to point out that Mr. Bingley was a pleasant gentleman who would make a fine addition to the neighbourhood.
When they arrived home, Mrs. Bennet was impatient to tell Mr. Bennet everything.
“Oh! my dear Mr. Bennet, we have had the most delightful evening,” she cried upon entering the drawing room. “Mr. Bingley is as handsome and agreeable as we were told, and his friend Mr. Darcy even more so. I have never met a more charming person. You will be astonished to hear that he danced with all five of our daughters.”
Mr. Darcy Dances: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 2
