by Leenie Brown
Elizabeth pondered Charlotte’s questions for another silent moment. Again, there was truth in what Charlotte was saying. Mr. Bingley should not have bowed to the wishes of his friend, and Miss Bingley had proven herself a false friend once Jane had arrived in town. It was quite likely that she and Mrs. Hurst had played some role in the separation. “I will allow that you might be right.”
Charlotte released a slow breath. “I would make another point,” she said, “but I am fearful of increasing your distress.”
Elizabeth could tell by the way her friend fidgeted with a seam of the quilt that the matter was not going to be left unspoken. “You might as well share it,” Elizabeth prompted. “You know I always like to have my curiosity satisfied, and if you share it now, you will either save me the trouble of ferreting it out of you or yourself the bother from devising another way to say it later.”
Charlotte gasped indignantly, though a hint of amusement shone in her eyes. “I would do no such thing!” she cried.
Elizabeth cocked a brow at her friend’s protest. “Yes, you would,” she retorted. “Remember, I know you as well as you know me.”
Charlotte smiled and chuckled softly. “Very well, but remember I did give you the option not to hear it. I will not bear your displeasure.”
“Go on,” Elizabeth encouraged. “I shall not hold you accountable for any distress your words may bring.”
Charlotte’s look was skeptical, but she began the next necessary bit of conversation regardless of the small niggling worry that Elizabeth might indeed hold some animosity for a time against her for what she was about to say. “Do you remember how I said Jane should act more in love with Mr. Bingley than she might feel?”
Elizabeth remembered the conversation very well. It had been during an evening at Lucas Lodge, just prior to her being entreated to play and sing and before Charlotte’s father, Sir William, had attempted to make Mr. Darcy dance with her.
“Jane’s reserved manner may not have allowed her preference for Mr. Bingley to be noticed,” Charlotte continued. “Perhaps he stays away because he does not know that he would be welcomed if he returned. It is much easier to listen to a friend’s advice when you have nothing with which to refute it.”
Elizabeth’s mouth twisted into a frown. “Do you really think so?” It was a thought that had poked its way into Elizabeth’s mind and been summarily dismissed several times over the past few months. ” I saw how she looked at him and he, at her. Surely, he must have known.”
“Not all men are so astute as to be able to infer true feelings. Remember to what Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy are accustomed. I am told women of the ton use all matter of arts and allurements to secure a wealthy husband. If this is true, then Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy are constantly surrounded by insincere women. And I do believe what I have heard about the ladies of the ton is true. Look at Miss Bingley, for example. I doubt very much that there is a sincere bone in her body. And if Mr. Bingley, for all his charm and ease is not confident in his own judgment but relies on the opinion of Mr. Darcy, he may find it even harder to discern the sincere from the insincere.”
Charlotte’s argument was frustratingly sound. Still, she could not entirely believe that Mr. Bingley had not recognized some of Jane’s preference. However, seeing that the only person who could substantiate or deny such a claim was not present, it would do no good to argue such a claim.
“I will allow that it is a possibility,” Elizabeth said. “But what of Mr. Darcy’s concerns about Jane’s family? Colonel Fitzwilliam mentioned nothing of a lack of attachment. He specifically stated that there were issues with the lady’s family. How does that not heap the whole sorry business on Mr. Darcy’s head?”
Charlotte shook her head as she pulled in a deep breath and released it. “It is not easy to hear, nor to say, but we both have mothers who are looking out for suitable matches for their children. My mother is less vocal than yours, but she is insistent nonetheless. And our fathers…what do they know of fashionable society? I do not doubt we all appeared a bit backward. And our sisters.” She sighed. “We love them, but do not yours at times embarrass you? I know mine does.”
Elizabeth’s shoulders drooped under the weight of the truth her friend spoke and was about to tell her friend that she was correct, but Charlotte was not yet done making her points.
“You will not like me for asking this, but it must be said.” She paused and waited until Elizabeth gave a small nod of her head, indicating she was willing to hear the unpleasantness. “If your friend were to become enamored with someone who possessed such connections, and you were not certain of that person’s feelings for your friend, what would you do?”
Oh, that one stung! Elizabeth knew, without a moment’s hesitation, that she would attempt to prevent such a match. Had she not wished to separate Charlotte from Mr. Collins for similar reasons? True it was not his family but he himself who was ridiculous; however, it had been enough for her to worry about her friend’s happiness.
“If you would do the same, how can you be angry with Mr. Darcy for his actions?” Charlotte asked.
Elizabeth shrugged. It was rather disappointing to not be so justified in her anger as she had imagined herself to be. Indeed, it was impossible to just put her displeasure with Mr. Darcy aside completely at the moment. It still remained that he had spoken ill of her family and harmed her sister, no matter if that was his intent or not. “I cannot be, I suppose. However, that does not mean I have to like his actions — or him, for that matter.”
Charlotte sighed. “Very well. No one will ask you to like him at present. However, I believe Mr. Darcy likes you very much — if he is not already half in love with you.”
“He is not!” Elizabeth protested firmly.
Charlotte laughed. “I could be wrong, but I see how he looks at you and how he finds time to be in your presence. Has he not found you each morning on your walks? I would venture to say that those meetings have not been happy coincidences but rather planned meetings.” She patted Elizabeth’s leg. “You would do well to at least be aware of it, for if he proceeds as he has been, I would not be surprised if he were to ask you to do more than merely like him at some point.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Charlotte was as much of a matchmaker as Lady Lucas or Sir William. She was always going on about the business of understanding gentleman and marrying well. A small worrisome thought crossed Elizabeth’s mind as she considered how very often she was wrong and Charlotte was right.
“I shall consider myself warned. However, I will also assure you that he looks at me only to find more reasons to judge my family. It is nothing more.” Surely, Charlotte could not be correct regarding Mr. Darcy.
Charlotte wore a knowing smile and patted Elizabeth’s leg once again in a cajoling fashion. “I will say no more on that front.” Her lips twitched with laughter. “Now, I must know how I am to proceed. Will I make your excuses to Mr. Collins, or are you going to come with us to Rosings?”
Elizabeth groaned. “Must I go?”
“It is up to you, my dear.”
Charlotte’s tone and look were the sorts that said Elizabeth’s choice, should it be the wrong one, would not be without some degree of unpleasantness. Therefore, with a great sigh, Elizabeth resigned herself to the idea that she would have to endure an evening at Rosings rather than face the censure of Mr. Collins for having disappointed Lady Catherine.
Chapter 4
Richard leaned toward his cousin as Mr. and Mrs. Collins and their guests entered the drawing room at Rosings. “Wait to see how she acts,” he whispered. “Then we will know how to proceed.”
Darcy raised a brow and rolled his eyes. He had heard Richard say the exact same thing three times earlier this evening. He was not likely to forget the instructions so quickly.
Richard scowled lightly. “I have seen how you lose the ability to form words in her presence.”
“I will do better this evening,” Darcy reassured him.
“Try
to look pleasant, and treat her how you would treat Georgiana or me,” Richard advised. He raised an impertinent brow. A bit of a tease might keep his cousin’s mind from becoming a pile of unusable mush, and Darcy’s mind becoming an unusable pile of mush was a very likely possibility based on how Darcy was fidgeting at Miss Bennet’s approach.
Therefore, Richard leaned a bit closer to Darcy’s ear and lowered his voice to a whisper once again. “She is not Caroline Bingley. You do not need to protect yourself from her. That is unless you no longer wish to take her as a wife, in which case, I am certain Miss Bingley would step in and fill the role whether you asked her to or not. Ooof!” A smirking Richard let out a loud burst of air as his cousin’s elbow made solid contact with his gut.
“Are you well, Colonel?” asked Elizabeth, who had just reached where they were standing.
“I am well, thank you, Miss Bennet. Darcy was just showing his displeasure with my teasing. It is something we have done since we were children.”
Elizabeth tilted her head as a small smile crept across her lips. She glanced at Mr. Darcy, who was looking a trifle flushed, before directing her comment to the colonel. “I am all astonishment, sir. I have it on excellent authority that Mr. Darcy is not to be teased.”
Richard’s eyes grew wide, and he could not help his small laugh of disbelief. “I fear your source, whomever that may be, was not correct.”
Elizabeth’s eyes twinkled and her smile grew. “Oh, I am certain there is no better source. Miss Bingley is very knowledgeable about Mr. Darcy.”
At this, Richard let out a loud guffaw.
Elizabeth paused, lips parted as if to speak. Had she seen what she thought she had seen? Had the dour and serious Mr. Darcy just rolled his eyes? So startling was the thought that whatever Elizabeth was going to add to the conversation flew completely out of her head.
Richard, seeing that Elizabeth was looking at Darcy with a rather confused expression, decided it was best to begin broaching the subject of his cousin as quickly as possible. The lady had not avoided either Darcy or himself, which to Richard’s way of thinking must be a good sign.
“I am glad to see your headache did not keep you from our company this evening,” he began.
“It was merely overexertion.” Elizabeth could feel the heat that accompanied such a falsehood creeping onto her cheeks, but she continued in her explanation despite it. “A short rest and a good talk with a dear friend were all that was needed to set me to right.” That part was absolutely honest, yet her cheeks still burned. “I shall have to be more mindful of my time and distance on my next walk.”
Noting the way Elizabeth’s cheeks coloured and how she lowered her eyes as she spoke, Richard felt certain that he was correct in his appraisal of her headache. No matter how much she might protest the fact, that headache was not brought on by walking too far. It had been a result of their conversation.
“Miss Bennet,” Lady Catherine called from where she was seated with her daughter, Anne, on one side and Mr. Collins on the other about half the distance down the length of the room. “You must play for us.”
Elizabeth sighed quietly. “Yes, your ladyship.” She gave a small curtsey and moved toward the instrument as Lady Catherine, in a rather loud and disapproving tone of voice, made note of the fact that Elizabeth had yet to come to Rosings to practice and that there was no way Miss Bennet would improve her skills without practicing. Elizabeth sighed quietly once more as she heard Mr. Collins lending his agreement and accepted the arm of Colonel Fitzwilliam as escort to the instrument.
“Playing will not tax you too much having just recovered from this afternoon’s exertions, will it?” Richard asked. “My aunt is not easily put off, but it can be done if needed. I would not wish for your headache to return.”
“Sir, it will be less taxing for me to play the pianoforte than to contain my comments when faced with your aunt’s censorious conversation and my odious cousin’s profuse praise.” Elizabeth snapped her lips closed and looked at the colonel with wide eyes. “Forgive me, Colonel. I spoke without thought.” Her face reddened in mortification.
“I am not offended,” Richard assured her as she took her seat at the piano.
“I am glad, but it was not right to say,” Elizabeth said as she began to shuffle through the stack of music looking for something easy to play. “I warned Charlotte I would not be fit to be in company tonight. I know that under good circumstances, I speak my mind too freely, but when fatigued, I am afraid my words flow more readily, and much to my discredit, with very little forethought.” She placed a piece of music on the instrument and rested her fingers lightly on the keys. “So, as you can you see, playing will be a good thing for all.” She managed a small smile as she began playing.
“That is understandable,” Darcy, who had joined them, said as he leaned against the piano. “You are not the only one who, when not under proper regulation, has been known to speak without thinking. Your comments, however, carry a certain amount of truth, whereas those of another may have been spoken in haste with little knowledge of the subject, thus rendering his words most untrue.”
His words surprised Elizabeth, and her fingers slurred over a couple of notes. Was he referring to his words at the assembly? She found her place again in the music and, once her fingers were doing as they ought, she looked up to find Mr. Darcy looking nervously contrite. Her playing stumbled once again. It was an apology. She smiled to ease his discomfort as much as to show her appreciation. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” she murmured, as she turned her eyes back to her music.
Richard, who was seated next to Elizabeth to assist in turning of pages, noted how the lady’s features softened. Catching Darcy’s eye, he gave him a small nod and smile of commendation and then, tipped his head toward a nearby chair. “Besides playing the pianoforte and walking, what other pastimes do you enjoy, Miss Bennet?”
“Ah, I know this,” said Darcy as he drew the chair Richard had indicated closer and took a seat. “She sings, reads, stitches all manner of things, and enjoys a good verbal joust.”
Elizabeth tipped her head and studied Mr. Darcy’s expression. He was pleased with himself but not in an arrogant way. In fact, he seemed to be looking for her approval of his comments. She arched a brow and said in a very regal fashion. “And there is something in her air.”
Darcy chuckled while Richard looked between them in confusion.
“Miss Bingley,” Elizabeth whispered with a smirk.
Elizabeth’s words did little to ease the look of confusion on Richard’s face, and so Darcy explained. “When Miss Elizabeth was staying at Netherfield to care for her ill sister, Miss Bingley provided us with her list of talents that an accomplished woman should have.”
“Ah,” said Richard as understanding dawned on him, “I assume that according to Miss Bingley, there must be something in a lady’s air?”
Richard was pleased to see the smiles that passed between his companions. Perhaps his task of bringing them together would not be nearly so herculean as he had first thought.
“Precisely,” Darcy answered. “She then stated that she knew only a few ladies who deserved to be called accomplished.”
“Oh, it was not just she who claimed it,” protested Elizabeth.
Darcy inclined his head in acceptance. “You are correct. I also said as much.”
Elizabeth turned her eyes from Darcy. She was finding it hard to keep them on anything else this evening. He was a handsome man, especially when he was smiling as he was.
“To be fair, Colonel, your cousin owned it first, and Miss Bingley agreed with him.” Her eyes, which had taken a moment to look at the colonel while she made her comment, took a brief look at her music before returning to Mr. Darcy.
Richard chuckled. “Indeed? Miss Bingley agreed with Darcy?”
“Shocking, is it not?” Elizabeth said with a laugh.
“Exceedingly,” said Darcy drily.
Elizabeth’s brows furrowed. Was Mr. Darcy not going to b
e offended by her comments regarding Miss Bingley?
“You sing?” A mischievous grin played at the corners of Richard’s mouth.
“Like an angel,” Darcy answered.
Again, Elizabeth’s fingers stumbled over the notes. “Sir, I thought you despised dishonesty.”
Darcy held her gaze. “I do. I do not lie. You sing beautifully and with great expression.”
Elizabeth’s fingers stilled on the keys. Mr. Darcy was being pleasant and very possibly flirting with her.
“If you were to sing for us, I could verify the truth of my cousin’s statement,” Richard offered.
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, please, not tonight.”
“You are safe,” Darcy’s voice was firm. “No one will inform my aunt of your ability to sing.”
“Thank you.” Elizabeth’s mouth formed the words, but no sound came out. Mr. Darcy was so very surprising this evening. If she was not careful, she might find herself very much charmed by him.
“If I cannot tell Aunt Catherine that you sing. May I tell her you read and insist upon showing you her library?” Richard suggested.
Elizabeth’s shoulders dropped at the relief such a suggestion would bring. “That you may do,” she agreed with alacrity.
“Miss Elizabeth is a great reader,” Darcy said. “It was rare to see her without a book in her hand when she was at Netherfield.”
“I would not say I am a great reader,” Elizabeth protested softly, her cheeks growing rosy. This complimentary Mr. Darcy was rather unsettling.
“What do you read?” Richard asked. He was enjoying watching the effect Darcy was having on Miss Bennet. That the lady was not unaffected by his cousin was good.
“Whatever I can find,” Elizabeth said with a laugh. “My father’s library has books on medicine and science as well as history, philosophy, and agriculture. As you can imagine, some have been more enjoyable than others. I also read poetry, and,” she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “do not let my cousin know, since he has already lectured me at great lengths on this, I quite enjoy novels.”
