Chapter 5
To Elizabeth’s profound relief, the apothecary’s draught finally lulled Jane to sleep. Having no immediate duties in the sickroom, she joined the party in the drawing room and found them playing cards. She declined the invitation to join the game, assuring her host that she would be content with a book. This inspired Caroline Bingley to broach the topic of libraries, or rather, how the Netherfield collection paled in comparison to that of Pemberley’s.
“What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr Darcy,” she said, to which she was rewarded with a lacklustre reply. “You have added so much to it. You are always buying books,” she said, which Darcy blandly confirmed. “When you build your house, Charles, I wish it might be half as delightful as Pemberley.” A brief conversation with her brother on Pemberley’s merits failed to induce any comments from Darcy.
Finding this scene far more entertaining than the book, Elizabeth gave her full attention to the players in the room.
Having achieved no success in drawing Darcy’s undivided attention, Caroline changed to another tactic—complimenting Miss Darcy. “I never met anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners! And so extremely accomplished for her age!”
Elizabeth marvelled at the false air surrounding Caroline—a grey haze. From past experience, she knew no one else perceived it, but even so, Caroline’s smile did not reach her eyes, an obvious physical sign of pretence. However, they all seemed perfectly content to believe her every word.
Mr Bingley then remarked on his amazement of the accomplishments of every woman of his acquaintance. “I am sure I never heard of a young lady spoken of for the first time without being informed that she was very accomplished.” Unlike his sister, Elizabeth observed no insincerity in his speech and charming smile.
Darcy agreed that the term was too loosely applied to women. “I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, who are truly accomplished,” he said, to which Caroline instantly agreed.
While Darcy’s demeanour revealed nothing false, his statement puzzled Elizabeth. “You must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman,” she said.
Once again, Caroline supported Darcy’s opinion. “A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved.” To further emphasise her point, she rose to stride purposefully around the room, posture erect, head held high, and countenance serene.
Elizabeth had never observed a more blatant display of braggadocio directed towards a gentleman.
Unfortunately for Caroline, Darcy ignored her immodest demonstration, watching Elizabeth instead. For a scant instant, she observed a shimmering light surround him, which vanished when he returned his focus to his cards. “And to all this, she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading,” he said.
Elizabeth could not allow this challenge to go unanswered. “I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I wonder now at your knowing any.” After Darcy claimed she was too severe on her own sex, she reasserted her doubts on the idea and was met with strong objections from Caroline and Louisa, stating that many of their friends deserved to be considered accomplished. Rather than cause further offence with her opposing opinions, Elizabeth bade the party good night and took her leave.
She laughed merrily as she hurried to the guest wing, allowing herself to dislike her hostess as much as she had before. First Caroline said she knew only a few accomplished women, then that she knew many. One need not be gifted to detect her duplicity. No young woman should put herself forward, especially to a gentleman; however, Caroline seemed determined to recommend herself to Darcy by complimenting him and his sister, and agreeing with everything he said, to the point of contradicting herself. She wondered if Darcy saw through her schemes. However, as soon as Elizabeth entered Jane’s chamber, all thoughts of Caroline and Darcy vanished as she discovered her dear sister awake and miserable.
***
The moment Elizabeth left the drawing room, Darcy regretted her absence; there could be no further intelligent conversation that evening. A certain something, to be sure, he thought, recalling Caroline’s boastful speech. An apt description of Elizabeth. Like Caroline, she freely voiced her opinions, but with cleverness and wit; however, unlike Caroline, her sweetness and playfulness caused no offence. With each encounter, he had come to admire her and longed to know more of her.
True to form, Caroline began her criticism in earnest as soon as Elizabeth had gone. “Eliza Bennet is one of those ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own. While it may succeed with some men, I find it a paltry device, a very mean art.”
Darcy could scarcely believe Caroline would accuse Elizabeth of the exact offence she was guilty of herself. “There is a meanness in all the arts which ladies use to employ for captivation,” he replied as a subtle set-down for her deplorable behaviour. Certainly, Elizabeth would never stoop to such depths. Even after he had publicly insulted her at the assembly, she’d maintained civility, which, by the way, reminded him that he owed the fair lady an apology for that unfortunate slight.
***
On Thursday morning, upon hearing that Jane Bennet’s condition had made no improvement, Darcy agreed with Bingley’s decision to summon the apothecary once again. He arrived at the same time as Mrs Bennet, who had brought two of her daughters. After consulting with the patient, the general consensus was that, although Jane’s condition was not dire, she should not leave her bed until her fever had subsided. When the entire party assembled in the breakfast parlour, Mrs Bennet dominated the conversation, profusely thanking Bingley for his attentions to her daughter, then expounding at length on her beauty and sweet nature.
Darcy knew a matchmaking mother when he saw her, and he had no doubt that this one had her mind set on Bingley. She had high praises for Netherfield, including its prospect and furnishings. “You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I hope, though you have but a short lease.”
Laughing, Bingley answered with his usual honesty that he was always in a hurry. “At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here.”
“That is exactly what I should have supposed of you,” Elizabeth said, her eyes dancing with mirth. When Bingley cheerfully lamented that this was no compliment to himself, she agreed. “But it does not follow that a deep, intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours.”
Mrs Bennet cried out, calling her to order. “Remember where you are, Lizzy, and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home.”
Elizabeth blushed scarlet at this reproach; however, glancing in Darcy’s direction, her mother then moderated her tone. “You may be strong willed, Lizzy, but you are a good sort of girl and will no doubt mend your ways once you are settled.”
There it is, Darcy thought. There could be no doubt she had meant this remark for his benefit. If that artless pronouncement had not solidified his opinion, her fawning demeanour convinced him.
Appearing to take no offence at Elizabeth’s observation of his transparency, Bingley skilfully broke the tension in the room, claiming that she must find the study of character amusing.
“Yes, but intricate characters are the most amusing. They have at least that advantage.”
Delighted with her quickness, Darcy offered his own opinion on the subject. “The country can in general supply but a few subjects for such study. In a country neighbourhood, you move in a very confined and unvarying society,” he said, drawing on his experience from living in Derbyshire, where society was vastly different from the variety of friends he knew in London.
“But people themselves alter so much that there is something new to be o
bserved in them forever,” Elizabeth said, to which he bowed in agreement.
Mrs Bennet giggled lightly. “Indeed, Mr Darcy, that occurs wherever you go, I should think. But our neighbourhood is quite large; we dine with four and twenty families.”
Elizabeth deftly changed the subject by asking after Charlotte Lucas, and her mother made a brief report of their visit. “But Charlotte was called away to see to the mince pies at home. For my part, Mr Bingley, I always keep servants who can do their own work; my daughters were brought up much differently,” she said with a determined nod of her head.
During this speech, Darcy observed Elizabeth, who flushed pink and averted her eyes to the floor. He did not miss Mrs Bennet’s undisguised hint that her daughters had nothing to do with the household chores.
Mrs Bennet chattered on tirelessly, then returned to her praises of Jane’s beauty. “One does not often see anybody better looking. When she was only fifteen, there was a man at my brother Gardiner’s in town so much in love with her that we were certain he would make her an offer. Alas, but he did write some very pretty verses to her.”
Elizabeth immediately interrupted. “And so ended his affection,” she said with a cheeky smile. “I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love?”
Her charm compelled Darcy to answer. “I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love.”
“Of a fine, stout, healthy love, it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away.”
As though spellbound, Darcy could not tear his eyes away from her. He had never met her equal. How was it possible that none of the women he had met in town possessed the same combination of intelligence, wit, liveliness, and beauty? Her mother prattled on at length, but Darcy heard not a word, only regaining his senses when Bingley called for the Bennet carriage. As the visit ended, one of the younger girls reminded Bingley that he had promised to give a ball at Netherfield.
Bingley received this impertinent suggestion with good humour, claiming that he had every intention of complying. “As soon as your sister is recovered, you shall name the day.” This satisfied Mrs Bennet, who finally took her leave, and Darcy could not say he was sorry to see her go. However, when Elizabeth excused herself to tend to her sister, he regretted her loss.
Once again, as soon as her guests had left the room, Caroline began her censure of Elizabeth’s appearance. “Eliza Bennet is a beauty, is she not?” she said to no one in particular. “And her eyes, so very fine; although, I must admit, I do not see anything extraordinary in them, but I suppose you still find her pretty, Mr Darcy,” she said, staring directly at him with a teasing smile on her lips.
Darcy considered giving Caroline a proper set-down; no one deserved to be put in her place more than she. In no way did he consider Caroline Bingley above a gentleman’s daughter. A tradesman’s daughter with twenty thousand pounds may well attract a man of consequence, but no respectable man could admire her haughty demeanour and lofty ambitions. If not for Bingley, he would entirely cut the connection with her and her frivolous sister. However, his affection for Bingley prevented him from insulting her. “You are right, Miss Bingley. Miss Elizabeth is indeed pretty,” he said, then opened the newspaper and gave it his full attention.
***
Mortified beyond measure, Elizabeth escaped to Jane’s chamber as soon as her family had gone away. Her face flamed anew with every recollection of her mother’s shocking performance. With Mrs Bennet’s fondness for exaggeration and braggadocio, she had fully expected her mother to extoll Jane’s virtues to Mr Bingley; but when she attempted to do the same with Mr Darcy— Oh! It was too much to bear. Surely, he had not failed to notice her sisters’ constant giggling and whispering during the visit; such unbecoming behaviour reflected poorly on the Bennet family. Even worse, her hostesses had exchanged several meaningful glances during the morning call. She knew not how she would face them again that evening—or Darcy, for that matter.
She had been too embarrassed to gaze in his direction through most of the visit, but a few stolen glances had revealed that he seemed to take no offence to her mother’s incessant chatter. However, she could not allow him to believe that she condoned such blatant displays. She must do whatever lay within her power to ensure Darcy understood that she had no designs on him, nor would she allow her mother to intimidate her. At the least, she owed him an apology for her mother’s presumptions.
During the visit, Darcy had maintained his aloof but polite demeanour, but when he had spoken about poetry as the food of love, a shimmering glow had encircled him for a brief moment. She had observed a similar effect after supper last evening, but still could not account for it. She longed to discuss her observations of the past few days with Jane, who would want to hear everything that had passed since yesterday; however, until her health improved, those stories would have to wait.
Caroline and Louisa came to the sickroom to check on Jane, who had endured a fitful night but now slept in peace. Elizabeth enjoyed cordial conversation with the ladies, who made no reference to Mrs Bennet’s visit, proving that they could conduct themselves with perfect manners, if they made the effort. They had provided for Jane’s every comfort, and Elizabeth could only be grateful for their kind attentions. When Jane awoke, they spoke to her with great affection, sympathised with her, and lamented how much they hated being ill themselves. To Elizabeth’s surprise, she perceived nothing false in their air or mannerisms. They spent the better part of the day in the guest chamber, and when they finally left to dress for supper, Jane sang their praises, delighted by their thoughtful attentions.
***
After supper, Elizabeth joined the party in the drawing room, tending to her embroidery while listening to the conversation. After her mother’s embarrassing visit that morning, she dared not draw attention to herself. Bingley and Hurst played piquet while Louisa observed their game. Darcy occupied himself by writing a letter, and Caroline fluttered around him, observing his every move. Once again, using every possible device to gain his attention, she bestowed her praises on everything and anything: his sister, his writing, his letter, his pen. Nothing escaped her notice or her relentless flattery. Perhaps Mrs Bennet’s shameful display earlier today had not been so shocking after all; at least she had not lied.
“Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on the harp; and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful little design for a table,” Caroline said to Darcy with an ingratiating smile.
Once again, Elizabeth observed murky shadows enshrouding Caroline as she spoke. She assumed that this deception was meant to endear Darcy to her. Unfortunately, despite her earnest appeals, if Darcy deigned to reply at all, he responded only briefly, declining to engage her in any meaningful conversion. To Bingley’s comments, however, he offered his full opinions and countered every statement with one of his own. Poor Caroline remained silent through their entire discussion—no doubt disappointed to have Darcy’s attention diverted elsewhere.
Elizabeth noticed the sharp contrast between Bingley, who always spoke with sincerity, and his sister, who used fabrications to draw attention to herself. Even Darcy, with all his cautious reserve and careful word selections, had not once displayed any falseness since she had arrived at Netherfield. She hoped, for his sake, that he would not fall prey to Caroline’s schemes.
Once Darcy finished writing his letter, he applied to the ladies for music, and while sorting through the books on the pianoforte, Elizabeth caught him staring at her with the same radiant light around him. She could scarcely believe that he might admire her, as her mother had suggested. But what else could be the meaning of his close scrutiny? Was he flirting with her?
As she listened to the music, she used every restraint in her power to avoid looking at Darcy. Although Caroline had not hesitated to draw attention to herself, Elizabeth would rather not
be perceived as too bold or forward. Caroline first performed a song with Louisa, then played a lively Scottish air. From the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw Darcy approach, then stand before her. “Do you not feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?” he said, reaching out his hand to her.
She found his disarming smile and relaxed demeanour, so different from his formal conduct, altogether irresistible. She accepted his hand, and they took several turns around the room, with Mr and Mrs Hurst quickly joining them. While they danced, his luminous glow remained constant. Never in her life had she been the object of such splendid admiration, if indeed that was the meaning of this new phenomenon. For the first time since she had come to Netherfield, Elizabeth could honestly admit that she was enjoying herself immensely.
Chapter 6
Friday morning, as Darcy walked along the garden paths with Caroline, she resorted to her usual method of engaging him in conversation. “I shall consider things between you and Miss Elizabeth as absolutely settled,” she said, squeezing his arm as they strolled past the dormant flower beds. “What an excellent mother-in-law you shall have.” The glint in her eye proved that she had every intention of continuing in this same vein. “But you might perhaps give her a hint to restrain herself in company, and she might wish to take better control of her daughters.”
Darcy could not deny that he was thoroughly enchanted by Elizabeth, and if not for the inferiority of her connections, he might be in some danger. However, he would never surrender the upper hand to Caroline Bingley. “Have you any other advice for my domestic felicity?”
“Oh yes! Do have Mrs Bennet’s portrait added to your family gallery, right next to Lady Anne,” she said with a lilting giggle. “Although, I would not recommend that you have your lady’s likeness painted; not even the masters could do her eyes justice, I believe.” Although her jealousy annoyed him, he made no reply. “As you say, her eyes may be considered fine, but her other features are nothing out of the common way.”
A Certain Something Page 3
