by Anne Morris
"It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of yours," he replied, and went back to his letter, and discovered he had lost his train of thought, the exact words, that firmness he thought he had found in his phrasing. He looked back up again and discovered that Miss Bennet was still looking at him, and also at Miss Bingley, who was sitting a few feet away with her music in her hands which she seemed to have forgotten. He and Miss Elizabeth stared at one another until he had the grace to look away, but he recovered his wording and began to set them on paper when Miss Bingley interrupted him again.
"Thank you, but I always mend my own pen," he assured her in answer to her offer. He worked more on his phrasing but could not end the letter on a serious note, so he thought of all their dull little parties, and attempted to paint some portraits of the people here since his arrival in Hertfordshire, but beyond his little fox hunts and the discovery of some secrets, he could only think of the beautiful face of Miss Bennet. Darcy looked up again in her direction just as Miss Bingley called out another comment for Georgiana. Miss Bennet, however, had her eye eyes back on her book, and was no longer seeking him out.
"Do you always write such charming, long letters to Georgiana, Mr. Darcy?" asked Miss Bingley who gathered up her music, stood, but then stopped when she was before him.
"They are generally long, but whether they are charming is not for me to determine," he replied.
"It is a rule with me that a person who can write a long letter with ease cannot write ill," she said.
"That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline," cried her brother, who was still at cards with Mr. Hurst, "because he does not write with ease. He studies too much for words of four syllables. Don't you Darcy?" Bingley narrowed his eyes, but his smile below showed he was in a playful mood.
Darcy seemed to be unable to finish his letter given the Bingleys' preference for conversation, "my style of writing is different from yours," he said, looking over at his friend with a frown.
"Charles is the most careless writer," said Miss Bingley, "he leaves out half of the words and blots the rest."
"My ideas flow so rapidly that I do not have time to express them," replied Mr. Bingley setting his cards down in his lap. "I fear my letters mean nothing to their recipients they are so full of jumbled ideas." Mr. Hurst called him back to the game, but Bingley was looking at Darcy and his sisters for confirmation, his smile quite wide on his handsome face.
Darcy would never finish his letter if Bingley got going on a subject, he needed to rein him in. "I believe the power of doing anything quickly is always prized by the possessor, what you have just issued is an indirect boast, Bingley. You are actually proud of your defects of writing and think they give you a certain character and charm. They, no doubt, would if you were writing some lady in secret and trying to impress her; you think these defects are highly interesting."
"Highly interesting!" cried Bingley with some color appearing in his cheeks, and his voice rising, "you steal away all appearance of modesty or humility, and tell everyone I am boasting. What else have you to say against my character?"
Apparently he had not been able to nip his friend's talkativeness in the bud. "I should not wonder that given your easy-going temper, when you decide to be done with Netherfield, you will pack up and leave in five minutes."
"Aye, I am such a whimsical man, I no doubt would, at the urging of a friend in Town, leave here at the drop of a hat and go for a visit," his friend's face had reddened even more.
"But does that not show Mr. Bingley to be a sweet-tempered man, a good friend?" cried Elizabeth looking between the two friends. "That he would accept an invitation and be off to Town for a visit when invited?"
"It is all well and good that Bingley is such a flexible fellow, but perhaps he has left obligations behind in accepting an invitation and running off at such short notice," said Darcy.
"I do not believe you do justice to your own friend, Mr. Darcy," cried Elizabeth. "You seem to wish to find fault with him this evening in whatever actions he may choose."
"A man needs to have resolution and not be whimsical in his actions, Miss Bennet. If he has made plans to stay…he should stay, and not change them without some deliberation on his part."
"You do not seem to allow for the influence of friendship and affection, have they no hold in your book? His regard for this friend may make Mr. Bingley happily give in to such a request without waiting for an argument as to why he needed to come for the visit. I am sure he would not leave any obligations behind."
"Perhaps we need to discuss the length of their association, and the degree of importance of the request, as long as we setting up this hypothetical plan?" remarked Darcy as he considered this entire scheme.
"And by all means," interrupted Bingley, "let us hear about the comparative height and size of the gentlemen, for that will have more weight in the argument, Miss Bennet. I assure you that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow in comparison to myself, I should not pay him half so much deference."
Darcy blinked then and realized how far from his purpose of stifling conversation he had come. There was something about her that had charmed him into the conversation and away from his letter to Georgiana. "Bingley, you dislike an argument, I cannot blame you. I shall finish my letter." He set down to his purpose without another word or a glance at the intriguing Elizabeth Bennet.
• • •
"Miss Eliza, why not come turn the pages of music for me? I seem to have lost Louisa," said Miss Bingley. Elizabeth and Miss Bingley both turned to look at Mrs. Hurst who had put down her music sheets and stood by her husband as he played at cards.
"I will," said Elizabeth, and set aside her book to assist at the pianoforte while Caroline Bingley played and sang. It was a change from reading which had been her only diversion from attendance on Jane throughout the day. She noticed, however, that Mr. Darcy seemed to not be focused on finishing his letter, but was staring down at the paper without having put quill to ink. He was more often than not looking over in their direction; she wondered if the music distracted him, or if he found some fault with her. Was there something reprehensible about her that accounted for why he was so often looking at her with that cold, intent stare, or was it their argument that he was going over in his mind, and had he thought of some new fact which he wished to bring up? He must find her a bothersome prospect with the way they had argued just then, and Elizabeth supposed he must dislike her greatly. She liked him too little to care for his estimation, good or bad.
"Have you finished Mr. Darcy?" asked Mrs. Hurst. Mr. Darcy looked with surprise at the married lady, then over to the two at the pianoforte, and shook his head.
"No, I had better," he replied, and Elizabeth watched as he did set quill to paper and finished the letter, folding it away and finally setting aside his writing implements.
Elizabeth turned the pages of Miss Bingley's music and considered how few men there were she had met whom she ever thought of in a worthy light. She remembered being quite young and considering that it was possible to meet a man of sense and intelligence, and that one day she would marry and leave Longbourn. She should have liked to love her partner in life, have a deep and abiding passion, and had often—years ago—talked with Jane about that possibility. That had been in the days when they were closer, before Miss Simnel had come, and they had more freedom, and less direction in their lives. She hoped that they were not growing apart as they grew into adulthood. Her role with her sisters had changed since Miss Simnel had come to Longbourn.
Love was as important to her as fortune and consequence in life, and Elizabeth would be perfectly content to be that old maid that Catherine and Lydia were already accusing her of being, and to live on Simon's good graces even if it meant that she could not marry, if she could not marry with love.
"I will repeat; Miss Bennet, should you not wish to seize this opportunity to dance a reel?" Elizabeth looked up from her reverie, and the sheet music before her, to see M
r. Darcy standing not too far off and with a look of disapproval on his face; he had apparently asked her to dance as Miss Bingley was playing an appropriate tune, but she had not heard him so lost in thought was she.
"I suspect you have asked me to dance that you might only have the pleasure of criticizing my taste in music but I shall cheat you, Mr. Darcy, and overthrow your scheme to find me wanting. I do not wish to dance a reel at all—and now despise me if you dare."
"Indeed I do not dare," he replied and nodded his head.
Elizabeth looked at him with the expectation that she would offend him as she had seen such evidence in their argument earlier, but she saw no such evidence this time, only a small smile graced his features as he turned away, which brought a little light even to his dark eyes. Miss Bingley coughed to indicate she was nearing the end of her page, and Elizabeth turned back to the pianoforte, her hostess, and the music sheets.
6
—
Discussions & Disputes
"What are you doing with Miss Bennet?" inquired Miss Bingley as they walked the wide garden pathways the next morning. "You were quite distracted yesterday."
"Was I?" he replied. "I thought I was the same."
"That little dispute you two engaged in was not quite your style, Mr. Darcy. And then you asked her to dance. When was the last time you ever asked a lady to dance in the evening? I am beginning to think you have more designs on her than simple admiration." His shock at her words almost stopped him in his tracks, but he was able to keep walking. "Consider her family, that mother who never seems to curb her tongue, and so many sisters. An uncle in trade and another a country attorney, really Darcy, do not allow yourself to be distracted."
"Have you any other advice for me?" he asked.
"Do not consider marrying her. You could never attempt to have her picture taken, to have it placed in the Pemberley portrait gallery, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?" He could not tell from her tone if she was teasing or not.
"It would not be easy, indeed, to capture their expression; but their color and shape, and the eyelashes so remarkably fine, might be copied." They walked in silence for a few steps. "You are quite concerned for me," he said looking over at her.
"I should hate to see you throw yourself away on a nobody when you might align yourself and Pemberley with someone from a good family and with good connections," she answered.
"I appreciate your concern, and the redirection of my outlook." They walked on in silence for many minutes then. "And are you still vested in seeing that Charles marry well before you, yourself, consider it?"
"Charles seems to show no inclination to marry," she answered and sighed. "He has the luxury of having time; I do not. I believe I need to begin to consider my options this coming Season."
"What of Miss Jane Bennet?" asked Darcy. "He shows an inordinate amount of admiration for her."
"Heaven forbid! Did we not just agree that Miss Eliza would not do for you? Why then would Miss Jane do for Charles? No, we shall finish up whatever it is Charles has planned here and return to London and see what new lady strikes his fancy there. Some day he might land on an appropriate one, and Louisa and I can maneuver him into making an offer."
He looked at Caroline Bingley's beautiful face. Time, he thought, had given Darcy some perspective about her. But had she always been so practical in her approach to marriage? He had met her when he had met the brother, three years ago. Back then, her captivating face had enchanted him; her dowry he had thought suitable; she had been everything that was charming, attentive, and commanding even, but was not interested. Apparently now she had begun to realize that the bloom of her pretty face would not remain there forever, and she should consider her own options, rather than being so invested in helping her brother marry well.
Perhaps, rather than having been interested in his cousin, Radbourne, as a prospect for herself, Caroline Bingley had been attempting to interest Charles in one of his female cousins. Darcy had not ever considered that option before.
• • •
Mrs. Bennet came in the morning to examine her second oldest daughter, bringing along her two youngest children. She did not find anything alarming in her examination of Jane, and after fifteen minutes of sitting and fussing over her, on Miss Bingley's entrance and invitation; she attended her hostess downstairs to the breakfast parlor.
Elizabeth walked down with them as well, having her brother's small hand in hers. She had been surprised that Miss Simnel had let him and Lydia leave the nursery, but he had whispered to her, "Mamma insisted, as Mary and Catherine didn't want to come." He was pleased as punch to be on such an important errand, and seemed to consider himself a page to a grand lady—so long as he exercised good manners, Elizabeth did not mind if he was really playing a game in his mind.
Mr. Bingley asked Mrs. Bennet if she had not found Jane worse than she had expected.
"Indeed I have, sir," was her answer. "She is a great deal too ill to be moved. Mr. Jones said we must not think of moving her. We must trespass a little longer on your kindness."
"Removed!" cried Bingley. "It must not be thought of. My sister, I am sure, will not hear of her removal."
"You may depend upon it, madam," said Miss Bingley, "that Miss Jane shall receive every possible attention while she remains with us." Elizabeth looked at her and considered that it was really she who was giving Jane those attentions, not Miss Bingley, but said nothing.
"Jane suffers a great deal, you know," said Mrs. Bennet, "but in silence, with her sweet temper, and I thank you again for caring for her." The matron smiled at Jane's hostess once more, and at her kind friends. It surely had to help Jane's case with Mr. Bingley to have such a sister forwarding the match as well, thought Mrs. Bennet.
"We shall see to her every need," Mr. Bingley assured her.
"My, Mr. Bingley, this room is so pleasant. I remember that it was such a perfectly lovely room so many years ago!" said the visitor excitedly. "It is exactly as I recall it."
"I believe, Mamma, that this room was done over since Sir John went away," said Elizabeth.
"How would you know about that? When were you ever inside Netherfield Hall before this?" asked her mother with a frown.
"I heard tell of it from Mrs. Morris at Aunt Philips," said Elizabeth, "so this room cannot be the same as you recall." Her mother looked at her with narrowing eyes.
"Well," continued Mrs. Bennet, "I was a visitor here a number of times as a young girl, you understand, before my marriage to Mr. Bennet. I was courted by Mandeville's son for a time though nothing came of it. I was quite the beauty in my day." Elizabeth worried, least she begin to speak of her days as the 'beauty of Meryton.'
"We have only heard a little of Sir John," put in Mr. Bingley, "Mr. Morris does not speak much about him."
"A baronet, you know. It was such a fine thing for the neighborhood to have him here. Such a tragedy that his son died young, and then to have his grandson die in the war," Mrs. Bennet let out a rather loud and sympathetic sigh.
"Sir John sounds like he has had a difficult life," said Mr. Bingley with an equally sympathetic tone.
"Poor man, it is no wonder he went to live in London; I believe he has a sister, a small consolation in his later years," Mrs. Bennet said, looking down at her son sitting next to her, "even if he does not have any of his own family left."
Elizabeth was anxious to change the subject, "has Charlotte Lucas called at all since I have been away?"
"Yes, she called yesterday with her father. Such an agreeable man, Sir William, and such a great addition to our neighborhood, so much the man of fashion, and yet he has such gentle manners," cried Mrs. Bennet. "He always has something to say to everybody—that is my idea of good breeding. He quite adds the right touch to our little Meryton society."
"A country society must have a small and unvarying society," said Mr. Darcy. Mrs. Bennet seemed to bristle at his words even though it was she who had just mentioned that their Me
ryton society was 'little'.
"I assure you there is quite as much of that going on in the country as in the Town," said Mrs. Bennet with a meaningful look at Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth was mortified and looked between the two parties, then down at her lap. Darcy looked at her mother and then away.
"I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country except for the shops and the public places," said Mrs. Bennet, "the country is a vast deal pleasanter, is it not, Mr. Bingley?"
"When I am in the country," Mr. Bingley replied, "I never wish to leave it; and when I am in Town it is pretty much the same. They each have their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either."
"I believe we have a fine neighborhood here, why we dine with four and twenty families," declared Mrs. Bennet.
"The neighborhood has been shrinking though, Mamma," said Elizabeth, "the Osmonts no longer come. And Mr. Parry at Ashworth may not marry again, what will happen to his estate then?"
"He drives the smartest curricle!" declared Simon. Miss Bingley looked offended that a child so small had spoken.
"Really?" said Mr. Bingley to Simon, "I should love to see his equipage."
"His horses are nothing to write home about," said Simon with authority, as if a six year old knew anything about horses; he was surely only repeating what he had heard his father say.
"Mr. Bingley, have you ever considered giving a ball?" ventured Lydia. She had sat and held her tongue during the entire visit, hoping that both her mother and Elizabeth would report back to Mr. Bennet and Miss Simnel of her exemplary behavior, but spoke up now.
"I had not considered such a thing, but it sounds like a delightful idea, but should we not wait until your sister Jane is recovered? We would not wish to be dancing when she is ill."
Lydia declared herself quite satisfied with such an assurance. Mrs. Bennet and her children then departed, and Elizabeth ran upstairs to Jane and left any comments about her relations to Miss Bingley and Mr. Darcy.
