Section I, Next Section
Chapter 1
"Oh! My dear Mr. Bennet!" cried his lady as she bustled into the library. "I have heard the most wonderful news!"
Mr. Bennet glanced up and saw her standing there, with her bonnet that had fallen askew over one ear in her haste, and chuckled. "It must indeed be a marvellous piece of news to warrant such dishabille, my dear."
"But will you not ask what it is?" she pressed him, coming to hover over him.
"Words cannot express my curiosity," he said carelessly as he marked his page in his book and turned towards her with indifference. She, taking his words literally, immediately began her tale.
"As I was walking down the street in Meryton, I visited my sister Phillips."
"As you do every day, my dear. I fail to see the wonder in that."
Ignoring him, Mrs. Bennet continued. "She told me that Netherfield Park is let at last! Is that not wonderful? It is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of England-a single man of large fortune! Four or five thousand a year, and very possibly more. Is it not a fine thing for our girls?"
"As fine a thing as I can imagine, Mrs. Bennet, for I can only assume that you mean them to marry him. However, before you begin this glorious scheme, I must remind you that polygamy is both immoral and illegal. How do you propose to marry all five of our daughters to one man?"
"Mr. Bennet, how can you be so tiresome? I have no intention of all the girls marrying him. One will certainly be enough - I believe Jane will be the one. She is, after all, the handsomest."
"It is well known that a rich young man must want a beautiful young wife."
"Indeed, my dear, that is just what I was thinking. How wonderful that we think so similarly."
"And how wonderful that you have managed to use the word wonderful three times in the past ten minutes, to describe three different things. I did not know there was so much wonder in the world."
Mrs. Bennet was prevented making any answer by a knock at the door.
"Enter!" Mr. Bennet called.
The door opened and a young man, about five-and-twenty, walked in.
"Ah, Jonathan, my boy," Mr. Bennet greeted him warmly.
"I hope I am not interrupting," Jonathan said.
"Not at all, son. Come in."
Jonathan went to his mother and kissed her cheek. "Mama."
"Oh, Jonathan, I was just telling your father the most wonderful news! Netherfield Park is let!"
"Is it really, ma'am? Extraordinary!"
"Yes, to a single man of large fortune. I was just about to tell Mr. Bennet that he must visit Mr. Bingley directly he comes into the neighbourhood."
"It is more than I engage for, I assure you," Mr. Bennet interrupted. "The young man will surely meet us sooner or later, and I see no hurry for it."
"But only think of what an establishment it will be for one of your daughters!"
Mr. Bennet opened his mouth to reply, but there was another knock on the door. Mrs. Hill, the housekeeper, stood in the doorway. "Begging your pardon, sirs, madam," she said meekly, "but the mistress is needed in the kitchen."
"Thank you, Hill," Mr. Bennet said.
Mrs. Bennet, displeased at being called away from a discussion so important, rose and walked out the door. Jonathan followed her and closed the door behind her, and then turned to his father and leaned against the door with his arms crossed over his chest.
"She is in rare form today," was his observation.
"Indeed she is," Mr. Bennet answered, running his hand across his eyes wearily. "Something about a young man to take Netherfield."
"Mr. Bingley."
Mr. Bennet looked up. "You are acquainted with the fellow?" Jonathan, as was normal for young men of his age, had spent some time in London and had a larger circle of friends than the rest of his family.
"No, not personally. I know him by reputation, though, very well."
"Your mother, as you have seen, insists on my making his acquaintance. What do you know of him?"
"He is generally praised as a very amiable, good-humoured man, with a smile and a kind word for everyone he meets. Only been of age two years. Never ill at ease, loves company - and dancing, which will make my two youngest sisters happy. The ladies say he is quite handsome as well."
"Which is always absolutely imperative," Mr. Bennet said sardonically. "What of his family?"
"Respectable, from the North, fortune through trade. Mr. Bingley has about five thousand a year; his two sisters have twenty thousand apiece. One single sister, one married. They are quite different from their brother, I understand - handsome, but haughty, conceited, and vain."
"Hmm," Mr. Bennet said thoughtfully. "Well, would you go with me to call on this fellow next week? I may tease your mother, but I would not really forego such a civility."
"With the greatest pleasure, Sir," Jonathan assured him sincerely.
"Very well, very well. Off with you now. I've work to do."
Jonathan rose, and with a nod and a bow, left his father to the contemplation of the house accounts.
Chapter 2
There must have been a stranger or less compatible marriage than that between Mr. and Mrs. Bennet of Longbourn, but it would be difficult to find. He, an intelligent, discerning man, had unwisely married a woman who was his opposite in every way. He read and was fond of intelligent conversation, enjoyed friendly debates, and loved to observe human folly; she, though she could read, did not enjoy it, and loved most of all to gossip about her neighbours. The business of her life was to get her daughters married. To be sure, her enthusiasm for it made her almost unbearable at times. Worst of all, she had little real understanding. She was no match for her husband in conversation or talent, and any respect or affection they might have had for one another had long since died away. They had, however, lived five-and-twenty years together very productively, with a fine family of six children.
The birth of Jonathan Thomas Bennet was a sincere relief to both parents, for this boy was very important to them. Mr. Bennet's estate, Longbourn, was a good one, with a clear two thousand a year. However, had Mrs. Bennet not provided him with an heir, it would have been entailed on a distant cousin, whom Mr. Bennet had never seen, and with whose father he had always been at variance. Therefore, Jonathan was a godsend. He was his father's pride and joy: an attractive, bright little boy who grew into a handsome and intelligent young man.
However, one son was not quite enough to satisfy the nervous anxiety of Mrs. Bennet. She persuaded her husband that another should be borne, in case the eldest should die suddenly, as sometimes happened. Thus came a succession of five daughters, but no son. Jane, the eldest girl, had been a remarkably pretty and docile baby and little girl, and had grown into a lovely and graceful woman. Her beauty made her the favourite of her mother, and her sweet-tempered nature made her a much-demanded playmate. Elizabeth, bright and clever, was her father's favourite child, after his son, and was more like him than any of his daughters. Between Elizabeth, Jonathan, and their father there was a very strong bond. Her mother regarded her very little; indeed, Elizabeth was perhaps her least favourite, because she was neither as beautiful as Jane nor as "spirited" as her youngest sisters. Mary, the only plain Bennet in the family, was self-righteous and pious in the worst degree, preferring, when they all went to evening parties or dinner engagements, to sit in the corner with a copy of Fordyce's Sermons. Kitty and Lydia, the two youngest, were rather pretty, but they were neither intelligent nor well-mannered. Lydia, the stronger personality, was often the ringleader, and Kitty followed wherever Lydia led.
Such was the Bennet family. Mrs. Bennet, after looking over her daughters with an expert eye, determined that Mr. Bingley should marry Jane. She was by far the handsomest and sweetest-tempered, and Mrs. Bennet thought these qualities the best a woman could possibly have. At supper that evening, Mrs. Bennet thought it best to broach the subject of Mr. Bingley in front of their children.
"I have been thinking, Mr. Bennet," she said, "and I believe that Jane will be the best wife for Mr. Bingley."
"Have you indeed, Mrs. Bennet?" he replied, lips twitching. "I am sure Mr. Bingley will be very grateful for your foresight. But suppose he prefers another young woman? Charlotte Lucas, perhaps?"
"Oh, nonsense! Who can prefer Charlotte Lucas to our lovely Jane? And as you will of course be calling on Mr. Bingley very early, he will be introduced to Jane long before he is introduced to anyone else."
"My dear, I thought I made it clear that I have no intention of calling on Mr. Bingley, early or late?"
"Not call ... my dear Mr. Bennet, impossible! It is absolutely necessary! Every gentleman in the neighbourhood will call - he will think us to be slighting him!"
"That is no concern of mine. If he draws his opinion of me based on how much attention I pay to him, I have no wish to make his acquaintance."
"But Mr. Bennet, you must call on him. It will be impossible for us to know him if you do not."
"You are too scrupulous. You have my full permission to call on Mr. Bingley at your earliest convenience. Take the girls with you; he can look them over and send me word of his choice." Kitty and Lydia giggled, Mary looked shocked, Elizabeth and Jonathan eyed their father with wonder at his outspokenness, and Jane stared at her dinner plate and blushed. Mrs. Bennet was too surprised to offer an immediate reply, and her husband took the opportunity to adjourn with his son into the library.
The subject of Mr. Bingley was constantly under discussion. Mr. Bennet always assured his wife that he would not go, and she begged him to consider his daughters. Finally, the Monday before Michaelmas, it was known that Mr. Bingley was in the neighbourhood. Mrs. Bennet had stopped pressing her husband, as she now considered him beyond reformation. To show her displeasure with him, she did not speak a word to him the entire day, and the next morning refused to come down to breakfast, claiming an attack of nerves. Mr. Bennet, apparently very little concerned about the state of his wife's nerves, set out for Netherfield with his son directly after breakfast without informing anyone of his destination.
When they reached Netherfield, Mr. Bennet gave the butler his card and the two men were shown into a sitting room. The butler assured them that "Mr. Bingley would be with them in a moment" and left them to their own devices. The room had a pleasant aspect, and was fitted up with modest taste.
"Well, here we are," Mr. Bennet said, "and about to find out if this acquaintance is worth all the trouble I've been given about it."
Jonathan merely smiled in reply, as he heard footsteps coming down the hall. Soon, the much anticipated Mr. Charles Bingley stood before them.
"Good morning, sir." Mr. Bennet rose and motioned his son over. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Thomas Bennet of Longbourn, and this is my son Jonathan."
"Charles Bingley at your service, Mr. Bennet," the young man said, shaking their proffered hands enthusiastically. "So good of you to call! Won't you have a seat? Do you care for anything to eat? Drink? Tea, coffee?"
"Tea would be marvellous, thank you, Mr. Bingley," Mr. Bennet answered with a smile as he chose a comfortable armchair.
"And you, Master Bennet?"
"The same, thank you."
When the drinks were brought in by the servants, the three men sat in silence till Mr. Bingley broke the silence by addressing Jonathan. "I believe I have heard of you, Master Bennet. Have you not been to London?"
"Several times, yes. I hope you've heard nothing unsavoury."
"Nothing but the highest praise, I assure you."
"And if it were anything worse," Mr. Bennet interrupted, "he would certainly not inform you."
"Quite right, indeed, sir," Mr. Bingley laughed. "However, I do have another reason for asking...have you not sisters, Master Bennet?"
"Yes, several. I suppose that is your real interest in my acquaintance?"
"Of course not, sir. However, I have heard great things of them as well. All ethereally lovely, extremely sweet, and prodigiously accomplished, I am assured. Pray, is this true?"
"Why don't you come and meet them for yourself, sir?" Jonathan said generously. "Would tomorrow afternoon suit you?"
"Excellent! I shall wait on you no later than three o'clock."
Mr. Bennet made a comment about the superb hunting at Netherfield, and the conversation was soon made up of guns, birds, and several amusing anecdotes from Jonathan. When three-quarters of an hour were gone, Mr. Bennet rose to go. His son followed suit, and they said their good-byes and left.
"A very pleasant, well-behaved young man," was Mr. Bennet's pronouncement.
"I thought so, too," Jonathan agreed. "I look forward to forming a friendship with him."
"If your mother has her way, he may very well be your brother-in-law."
"I hope for his sake, that will not be the case," Jonathan said seriously.
Mr. Bennet looked at him in surprise. "I thought you liked the fellow?"
"I do, indeed, which is why I would wish him a better fate than marriage."
His father looked at him with concern and not a little alarm. He had never heard his son voice such sentiments before in so serious a tone, and it worried him. After a few moments, he decided that Jonathan probably was not as serious as he sounded, and did not answer him.
When they arrived back at Longbourn, the men were accosted by the younger Bennet girls, who demanded to know where they had been. Both avoided the questions admirably, and the subject was dropped till after dinner, when they were all in the drawing room together.
"I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy," Mr. Bennet said to his second daughter, who was trimming a hat. She gave him a puzzled glance.
"We are not in a way to know what Mr. Bingley likes," said his wife angrily, "as we are not to visit."
"But you forget, Mama," said Elizabeth, "that we will meet him at the assemblies. Mrs. Long has promised to introduce him."
"I don't believe she will do any such thing. Mrs. Long has two nieces, and always cares for herself and her own above anything else. I have no opinion of such a selfish and hypocritical woman."
"No more have I, my dear," Mr. Bennet said, "and I am glad that you do not depend on her."
Mrs. Bennet turned away from him to scold her daughter. "Don't keep coughing so, Kitty, for heaven's sake! Have a little compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces."
"Kitty has no discretion in her coughs. She times them ill."
"I do not cough for my own amusement," Kitty snapped peevishly.
Before his father could make matters worse, Jonathan interfered. "Mama," he said, drawing close to her. "I know you love news, and I have some news for you."
"News! If it is about Mr. Bingley, Jonathan, I do not want to hear it, for I am sick of him."
"Are you indeed!" exclaimed Mr. Bennet. "That is unfortunate! My dear, why did you not tell me before? If you had, I certainly would not have gone to the trouble of calling on him. It is very unlucky, but Jonathan and I have actually paid the visit, and there is no escaping the acquaintance now."
There was a moment of silence, and then pandemonium broke loose. Mrs. Bennet exclaimed that she had expected it all the while, while Kitty and Lydia began to plot how to get him to dance with them at the next ball. As soon as Mrs. Bennet finished commending her husband, she turned to Jane and began to instruct her on how to behave in order to attract Mr. Bingley's attention. Mr. Bennet, having drawn as much amusement as he could from the scene, soon afterwards retired to his library.
Chapter 3
When Mr. Bennet proved immune to their inquiries about Mr. Bingley, the Bennet ladies turned their wiles on Jonathan. Soon he found himself accosted at unexpected times with barefaced questions, ingenious suppositions, and distant surmises that required some skill to elude. But he, in a manner much like his father, took great pleasure in withholding the information they so desired.
"Jonathan, please!" cajoled Lydia. "Will you not at least tell me the colour of his coat?"
"Fie, Lydia, can you think of nothing else?" he teased. "Does the colour of a man's coat display his character?"
In frustration, she turned from him and said to Elizabeth, "Lizzy, won't you speak to him? You know you can make him do whatever you like."
"You flatter me, Lydia," Elizabeth answered calmly as she kept her eyes on her needlework, "but I shall not attempt to persuade him. Depend on it, he takes great pleasure in teasing you, and so long as you desire the information he possesses, he will never tell you. However, if you cease to ask him, he will soon grow bored with the game and tell you all. Take my advice and say no more to him on the matter."
But Lydia and Kitty, incapable of anything like restraint, returned to questioning Jonathan by every means in their power. At length, really irritated by their constant questions, he exclaimed, "For God's sake, you will meet him in a few days! Can you not wait till then?" and then hastily decamped.
Poor Mr. Bingley was very disappointed at not being able to see the young ladies after all. Mr. Bennet had forgotten to inform his wife of this important gentleman's imminent visit, and none of the young ladies were dressed to her satisfaction. But the girls had the advantage of him, for from an upper window they could see that he wore a blue coat and rode a black horse.
A dinner invitation was of course promptly sent, but Mr. Bingley wrote back to declare himself unable to accept. He was obliged to be in town on business the following day, but was unable to express his disappointment. Mrs. Bennet was exceedingly discomposed at his leaving the country again so soon, but her agitation was soothed when her sister Phillips suggested that he was only gone to collect a large party for the assembly ball that was to occur in a week.
The first report was that the party would consist of twelve ladies and seven gentlemen. All the girls certainly hoped that this report, like many others, had been exaggerated. Otherwise, the assembly room would be very much crowded. The next report was of six ladies and four gentlemen, and when the party finally entered the room at the assembly building, it consisted of only six altogether: Mr. Bingley, his two sisters, the husband of the eldest, and another young man and his sister.
Jonathan, who acted as head of the household when his father was not present, immediately approached the party and was greeted by Mr. Bingley with alacrity. "Mr. Jonathan, I am very glad to see you," he said with a smile. "Is your father present?"
"Not tonight, sir, he little enjoys this type of evening."
"Well, then you are Mr. Bennet tonight, are you not? Allow me to introduce you, Mr. Bennet, to my sister Mrs. Louisa Hurst and her husband Edward, my sister Caroline, my friend Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy and his sister Georgiana. Everyone, Mr. Jonathan Bennet." Bows were exchanged, and Mr. Bingley immediately continued, "I believe you are now an introduction in my debt, Mr. Bennet. I must insist on becoming acquainted with your mother and sisters."
"Right away, sir. But first," he turned to the quiet young woman Mr. Bingley had named as Miss Georgiana Darcy, "may I beg Miss Darcy's hand for the first two dances?" Miss Darcy blushed a delicate pink and glanced up at her formidable brother. What a contrast! Jonathan thought. Miss Darcy, with her delicate blonde beauty, was the complete opposite of her darkly handsome brother. Mr. Darcy looked down at his sister, stared for a moment at the young man in front of him, and then gave Miss Darcy an almost imperceptible nod.
"I w-would be honoured, sir," she said, so quietly he could scarcely hear her.
"Thank you, ma'am," he answered gently, and then led Mr. Bingley to his sisters and mother. Introductions were made, and Mr. Bingley, according to plan, speedily acquired Miss Bennet's hand. Mrs. Bennet looked on with complete satisfaction. Mr. Bingley and Jane seemed to be having an animated conversation, and he appeared completely engrossed by her. Jonathan was a little less fortunate in his dance partner.
Miss Darcy was very shy-painfully so. It took an almost Herculean effort to draw even a monosyllable from her. Jonathan, however, was only slightly discouraged. From the little she did say, he saw that she had great intelligence and taste unusual in a girl her age, for she was only sixteen years old.
As he was thus dancing with Miss Darcy and trying to draw her out, he noticed that her brother stood off to one side watching them diligently. Really, the man took brotherly protectiveness to the extreme! As they were standing in the dance, Jonathan saw Mr. Bingley approach Mr. Darcy. They exchanged words, Mr. Bingley jovial, Mr. Darcy grave. Mr. Bingley motioned behind Mr. Darcy, at (Jonathan followed the gesture) Jonathan's sister, Elizabeth, who was sitting nearby. Mr. Darcy turned to look at her, stared at her for a moment, and then turned back and answered his friend, who looked less than pleased and moved away. Elizabeth, Jonathan saw, was not best pleased either. She glared at Mr. Darcy's back, and then deliberately moved away. Now what was that all about? he wondered. He turned to his partner, hoping to draw some information about her brother from her.
"It would seem your brother does not think too highly of us," he observed, nodding towards the man in question, who was once again watching them closely.
"Fitzwilliam? Oh, I am sure that is not the case," she said earnestly. "He dislikes public appearances so."
"Does he? Why, then, does he come?"
"Mr. Bingley asked it of him as a special favour."
"Ah, a sacrifice of friendship, then?"
"I suppose you might call it so."
"Do you consider this evening a sacrifice, Miss Darcy?"
"A sacrifice? I..." she blushed a little before continuing. "I cannot deny that I-that an assembly such as this..."
So many words at once seemed to have completely bewildered her. "Allow me, Miss Darcy. You are no more fond of balls or assemblies than your brother is-if you had not been especially asked you would now be sitting comfortably at Netherfield in front of the fire with a book of poetry, would you not?" Miss Darcy blushed, and seemed to smile, though he could not see as her head was bowed. "As for your brother, he feels exactly the same way-except that he is certainly more hostile about it."
"Hostile! My brother?" Her head came up immediately.
"I mean no offence, Miss Darcy," he said as he led her off the floor. "I am merely making an observation. I thank you for the pleasure of your company." He bowed over her hand and walked away.
He found Elizabeth almost immediately. "Well, Lizzy," he said, "I have certainly seen something of interest tonight."
"Do you mean your pretty little friend, Jonathan?" she asked in a teasing tone. "Take care, Jon. Not everyone is as immune to your questionable charms as all the other ladies here are."
"That is not what I mean, Elizabeth. What did Mr. Darcy say to upset you so?"
Her laughing face darkened immediately. "The arrogant man! He began by asserting that no one here in Meryton was worth his notice, and that he would not dance because there was no one good enough. When Mr. Bingley suggested that he be introduced to me, he looked at me, and then pronounced me 'tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt him,' and said that he would not stand up with a woman slighted by other men!"
Jonathan chuckled. "Now, now, Lizzy, calm yourself. You cannot have all the gentlemen to yourself, you know." It was a sort of a joke between them that no one could resist their charms. "I know you are shocked that any man should find you less than ethereal, but it takes all kinds to make this world."
Elizabeth gave him a weak smile. "I suppose I did overreact a bit. But imagine if you overheard yourself being talked of as tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt so-and-so, and then you may understand my mortification."
"Oh, I understand more than you think. I have exerted every power of pleasing that I have on Miss Darcy, without having the slightest effect. She simply does not speak."
"She seems a very sweet girl."
"I believe she is, but excessively shy. Shall I introduce you?" Without waiting for whatever objection Elizabeth might have, Jonathan took her over to his former dance partner, who was talking with Miss Bingley, or rather, who was listening to Miss Bingley talk. She looked up at him and coloured, but Jonathan did not notice. "Miss Darcy," he began, and then noticed Miss Bingley standing nearby. "Miss Bingley," he added, "will you allow me the pleasure of introducing you to my sister Elizabeth?"
Miss Bingley nodded curtly, but Miss Darcy smiled very shyly as she curtsied. "Delighted," she said softly.
"As am I," Elizabeth returned warmly. "Miss Bingley," turning to face that lady, "we are so glad that your brother has chosen to live among us. I hope you will not find the quietness of our society too trying."
"When one has been used to London," Miss Bingley answered, "these little country balls do seem small and poor indeed, but I am sure with a little time they will improve."
With a somewhat cooler smile, Elizabeth replied, "I have never found anything wanting in Hertfordshire society, Miss Bingley. I suppose, though, that I should not imply that it does not need improving. For couldn't improvement be useful for everyone? Surely there is no place or set of people on earth who could not be changed for the better."
Miss Bingley was not quite satisfied with this reply, and made no answer. Jonathan happened to look up and see Mr. Darcy standing nearby, with a strange smile on his face.
"Miss Darcy," continued Elizabeth almost immediately, "do you know whether you mean to stay long at Netherfield?"
"I-I do not know. It is my brother who arranges it all. I do not think we shall leave very soon. I hope not."
"My sister and I are here at Mr. Bingley's convenience, and will attend him until he is tired of us," came a voice from nearby. Jonathan and Elizabeth both turned and saw that Mr. Darcy had moved towards them. Elizabeth scowled and turned away from him.
"Oh, Mr. Darcy," tittered Miss Bingley, "you well know that neither my brother nor I could ever tire of you and your darling sister." She walked towards Miss Darcy and linked arms with her. She gave Elizabeth and Jonathan a very superior look. "I daresay you could live in the family and no one would have any objection."
Elizabeth smirked at this blatant hint and snuck a look at Mr. Darcy. A faint look of disgust crossed his features before dissolving into his usual hauteur. "I thank you for the sentiment, Miss Bingley," he said stiffly.
"Mr. Darcy," Jonathan said, "I think you have not been introduced to my sister, Elizabeth. Allow me to introduce you now." The bows between the two were perfunctory. The music struck up for another dance, and Jonathan's razor-sharp mind worked quickly. "Miss Bingley," he said quickly, hand outstretched, "would you give me the honour of your hand for a set?"
Taken completely aback, she stared at his hand for a moment, glanced at Mr. Darcy, and then accepted with an insincere smile. Mr. Darcy, Jonathan saw, looked not a little alarmed at being left alone with Elizabeth, as William Goulding had previously asked Miss Darcy to dance. Elizabeth, understanding the direction of her brother's thoughts, sent him a murderous glance. Troublesome meddler, she grumbled to herself, and was about to turn away from her companion when he suddenly addressed her.
"Miss Bennet, will you do me the honour of dancing this set with me?" he asked uncomfortably.
She turned to him with a tiny smile on her face. "There is no need for that, Mr. Darcy."
"No need? I do not understand your meaning."
"Do you not?"
"I..." His voice trailed off. He seemed to gather his nerve and said, "I apologize for my previous comments, Miss Bennet. Such venom was uncalled for."
"Indeed it was."
He looked at her curiously. "Am I to receive no other answer? Shall I claim that I will perform any task to obtain your forgiveness? If so, I am most sorry to disappoint you, but I am a very busy man and cannot spare much time from my schedule."
A reluctant smile graced her lips as she replied, "I suppose your voluntarily asking me to dance is task enough. You are forgiven." She turned and began to move away.
"Miss Elizabeth," he said, following her, "I believe you have forgotten one detail."
"And that is?" she asked.
"I asked you for a dance."
"Ah, yes. Forgive me for not making my answer clear," she turned and looked him full in the face. "I thank you for your kind invitation, but I fear I must decline."
"Decline? You are determined to mete out punishment, I see." He smiled as Elizabeth looked at him strangely. "Never mind, I shall bide my time." Mr. Darcy turned and walked away.
Chapter 4
"Lizzy!"
Elizabeth turned to face her brother, who strode up to her with an irritated look on his face. "Yes?"
"How could you do it? I left Mr. Darcy alone with you for a purpose, you know."
"I know. You presume too much, Jonathan. I don't want to dance with the man."
"Why? Because he did not call you the handsomest woman in the room?"
"No, it's-it's not like that." She had a secret smile on her face.
"Then what is it like?" Jonathan noticed her look and groaned. "Oh, Elizabeth. Do not tell me you are up to your old tricks."
"Tricks? I am offended, brother."
"Come, come, tell Jonny all about it. You know you will confess eventually."
"There is nothing to tell."
"How can you say that?"
"Mr. Bennet?"
Both Bennets turned to face Mr. Darcy, who stood looking at them with that same strange smile on his face. Elizabeth coloured immediately. How much did he hear? "Yes, Mr. Darcy?" Jonathan asked.
"Mr. Bingley desires your company at a hunt he is hosting tomorrow. I know it is strange for him not to issue the invitation himself, but he was on his way to speak to you and was waylaid by about six gentlemen all asking him his opinion on something. Are you agreeable?"
"Yes, of course! I have not hunted at Netherfield since the Weatherbys left it. Tell Mr. Bingley I will be delighted to join him."
"Excellent. If you will excuse me?" He bowed to them both and strolled away. Jonathan turned to Elizabeth with widened eyes.
"What do you say to that, sister? An invitation to Netherfield House from the most popular man in Hertfordshire! Such good fortune!"
"Good fortune, indeed," Elizabeth laughed, "to be sought after by a man who seeks everyone out."
He pulled a face at her. "Thank you, ma'am, for ruining my delight so completely."
"Why, you are very welcome, of course."
"You, madam, are incorrigible."
Once again they were interrupted by a member of the Netherfield party: this time Mr. Bingley himself. He asked Elizabeth for a dance and she agreed sweetly, causing one member of said Netherfield party a bit of discomfort, as he could not help envying his friend that privilege.
All in all, the ball went off very agreeably for the whole Bennet family, and Mrs. Bennet could scarcely wait to go home and crow about her success to her husband, who had been so very cynical about it all. She had seen Mr. Bingley and decided he was the handsomest man she had ever seen, especially when he honoured two of her daughters with dances, and had even asked Jane twice. Jonathan, she saw, had had the sense to dance with both Netherfield's single young ladies and, to her greater satisfaction, had appeared to prefer Miss Darcy, who had a fortune of thirty thousand pounds, where Miss Bingley could only have twenty thousand. She returned, therefore, in very good spirits to Longbourn, and began to recount the entire ball to her dull and disinterested husband. Such feminine effusions over who wore which gown and who danced with whom quite wearied him, and he looked forward to his conversation with Jonathan, who would undoubtedly tell him what he most wanted to hear: the subtle nuances of the behaviour of everyone present, and his first impressions of the newcomers.
Jonathan had liked most of them, he discovered. "Mr. Bingley appeared much the same at the ball as he did on our first interview," Jonathan said. "Lively, eager, with friendly manners. His sisters leave much to be desired. They are handsome, but proud and vain, just as I have heard. However, the biggest puzzles are Mr. Darcy and his sister."
"Ah, so the young man brought friends, did he? I'll warrant your mother was in ecstasies."
"Indeed she was, especially when she discovered that Mr. Darcy is the owner of a large estate in Derbyshire and has ten thousand a year, and that Miss Darcy is the heiress to a fortune of thirty thousand pounds."
Mr. Bennet whistled. "Two of the richest young people in Britain arrive practically on our doorstep. Better take care, son. Mrs. Bennet will soon be shoving you at that Miss Darcy. And what are they like?"
"As I said, they are complete enigmas, sir. Neither of them talks much; in fact it is a downright struggle to draw a word from Miss Darcy. But when they do speak, I have a feeling that they are both sensible and intelligent, and would make worthwhile companions. However..." Jonathan chuckled.
"Yes?"
"I'm afraid my mother was not at all impressed with Mr. Darcy. He danced only four dances with the ladies of his set, and hardly spoke to anyone unless absolutely necessary. A perfect contrast to his friend, and since Mr. Darcy showed no interest in any of my sisters, Mama soon forgot about him."
"I cannot imagine your mother would forget about such a rich young man."
"Mr. Darcy said some very unflattering things about one of my sisters, and you know how Mama is when someone insults her daughters."
"I do indeed. Your mother may have her faults, but she certainly loves you all very much. If I may ask, which of my girls did he insult?"
"Lizzy."
"Lizzy!" Mr. Bennet's eyebrows rose. "I can hardly believe anyone would have occasion to slight my Lizzy."
"As I said, he is a difficult man to make a first impression of. I have a feeling that, if he is ever intimate with anyone, it takes a good deal of time to reach intimacy with him."
"Well, time will tell," Mr. Bennet answered. "I, for one, am nearly asleep sitting here. I think I am for bed. Good night, son." Both men then headed for their bedchambers.
Jonathan was not far off in his estimation of the Netherfield party. Mr. Bingley was as amiable as he appeared, and a great deal cleverer than he ever gave himself credit for. He often deferred to his friend, who was not shy about voicing his opinion when it was asked for, and had played "mother hen" to Mr. Bingley for a little while longer than was creditable to either of them. Mr. Bingley was too dependent, and Mr. Darcy too willing to think rather highly of himself. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst would not attempt to argue their brother out of this dependency, for they both felt the power that an acquaintance with the Darcys of Pemberley could give. Miss Bingley secretly hoped to make that acquaintance a more intimate one and one day persuade Mr. Darcy to marry her. Miss Darcy was more complicated than her brother. The victim of an unknown near-catastrophe the summer before, she was delicate and shy, struggling to overcome internal demons, and fearful of strangers. Like Mr. Bingley, she also depended on her brother to an almost ridiculous degree, though in her it was more understandable. Often, what he thought of a person, place, or event, she thought so too. The manner in which the Meryton assembly was spoken of was sufficiently characteristic.
"What a splendid evening!" Mr. Bingley exclaimed, falling into a chair in ecstatic weariness. "I declare I have never met pleasanter people or prettier girls in my life!"
"How typical of you, Charles," Miss Bingley sneered. "How you could find any beauty or enjoyment in a place like that is simply beyond my comprehension."
"Come, come, Caroline, do not speak that way," he scolded. "No one in this room can question the beauty of Miss Jane Bennet."
"Certainly not. She is indeed a lovely, sweet girl. If only she were less cursed in her family. Think of her sisters, Charles! Why, that Miss Elizabeth-I declare I have never met with so much impertinence in my life. And then to be told that she is considered a beauty! How absurd. I have met hound dogs with more beauty than she has."
"I thought her rather pretty," Miss Darcy said timidly.
"Oh, well..." Miss Bingley floundered, not wanting to praise another young woman, yet not wanting to contradict so important a person as Miss Darcy. "I suppose she is, as you say, 'rather pretty,' but there is nothing in her face, person, or manner to strike one. She is absolutely brash."
"What do you say, Mr. Darcy?" questioned Mrs. Hurst. "Surely you do not find that pert manner of hers as attractive as she evidently thinks it is."
Darcy hesitated for a moment, not wanting to say too much, yet determined to tell the truth. When he did speak, it was with a gravity that defied the sisters to tease him. "Miss Elizabeth Bennet speaks with a lack of consciousness that is very pleasing, and I must admit to being somewhat entertained by her. She has a great deal of expression in her countenance, but I do not think she can be described as a beauty."
"Just so," Miss Bingley agreed. "She is perhaps rather better looking than some, but nothing admirable. Certainly all the Bennet sisters pale in comparison to our lovely Miss Darcy."
Miss Darcy blushed and looked away. Her brother ground his teeth in irritation at hearing Miss Bingley call his sister her anything.
"Well, try as you may, you will not talk me out of my admiration for both the eldest Bennet sisters," Bingley declared. "I am determined to think them both lovely and amiable, and I defy you to convince me otherwise."
"I would not dream of it, Charles," Miss Bingley snapped. "I am not fond of rapping my head against brick walls. The good Lord knows you are too stubborn about these sorts of things."
"He knows it," Bingley said with a grin, lifting his glass of wine in a toast to his sister. "See that you learn it as well."
Miss Darcy blushed at this exchange, as she could never imagine speaking to her brother in that manner, and tried to change the subject. "Miss Bingley, I saw that you danced with Mr. Jonathan Bennet. What did you think of him?"
"Oh, Mr. Bennet! Rather handsome I suppose, but a raw country upstart. His manners could certainly use a little polish."
"Nonsense," Bingley interrupted, much to Miss Darcy's consternation. Nothing she could do would prevent these two from quarrelling. "Mr. Bennet is a very pleasant, amiable fellow, and I hope to know him much better. Wouldn't you agree, Darcy?"
"I must admit that Jonathan Bennet seems superior to the other gentlemen we met this evening."
"I liked him," Miss Darcy said quietly. Her brother frowned.
"Well, if you don't like him, you'll simply have to get used to him, for I've invited him to shoot with us and hope to see him quite a bit more," Bingley declared.
"I am aware of that, Bingley," Darcy said dryly, "for I issued your invitation."
Chapter 5
Jonathan followed the bird's flight with his gun and shot, felling his third bird for the day. He grinned as his hound rushed headlong into the brush to sniff the game out and bring it back to him.
"Excellent shot, Mr. Bennet!" exclaimed Mr. Bingley. "I declare you may know these fields better than anyone hereabouts."
"Your predecessor, Mr. Weatherby, was a great hunter and had shooting parties nearly every day. I practically lived on this estate, Mr. Bingley."
Mr. Bingley laughed. "I am sorry to disappoint you, but I do not think I could hunt quite that much."
"No disappointment, I assure you, sir."
Bingley then wandered off to attend to his other guests. Jonathan noticed Mr. Darcy standing nearby and inclined his head towards him. "Mr. Darcy."
"Mr. Bennet," was the curt answer.
Jonathan remembered his vigilance over Miss Darcy and smiled slyly. "May I inquire after your sister?"
As he had hoped, Darcy's eyes darkened and glared at him suspiciously. "She is well."
"I am very glad to hear it." He was the picture of composure. Inwardly, however, he was all curiosity. Despite appearances, he thought he had sensed something strange between this man and his sister Elizabeth at the Meryton assembly, and he was determined to discover if he had been right. Darcy seemed to be struggling inwardly before suddenly asking,
"And how is your family, sir?"
"Tolerable, I suppose," Jonathan said wickedly, "but not quite well enough to suit me."
Mr. Darcy's complexion was decidedly paler. He cleared his throat in an embarrassed manner and turned to study his gun as intently as if he had never seen it before. "I hope they soon improve."
Jonathan chuckled. "As do I."
"Well, gentlemen," announced Mr. Bingley, "there are hot drinks for all in the drawing room, if you will be so good as to follow me. I think we have all worked hard enough and deserve it."
"Hear, hear!" was the general reply, and they all retired to Netherfield's drawing room. Jonathan had known nearly every man present since childhood, and so none of them drew as much interest as Mr. Bingley or Mr. Darcy. He was surprised to see the camaraderie between them, because it was hard to imagine a stranger pair of friends. Mr. Bingley was gregarious, Mr. Darcy taciturn. Mr. Bingley had the power of pleasing with ease, Mr. Darcy seemed to offend without even trying. Still, the rest of the day passed off pleasantly, and it ended with Sir William Lucas, the owner of Lucas Lodge, which was a neighbouring estate of Longbourn, announcing his intention to hold a party at the end of the week and his earnest desire that the same excellent companions seated in this room would oblige him and meet there as well. All gave their hearty consent (except for Darcy, of course, who never seemed to heartily consent to anything) and promised to attend him.
Naturally, they did not have to wait until that Friday to meet again. A small country town has to look inwardly for entertainment, and so there were supper, dinner, and card parties nearly every day and evening. Society was not varying, either, so that everyone in Meryton and the surrounding estates were very well acquainted. Jonathan entered the drawing room at Haye Park at one of these frequent meetings and was greeted warmly by William Goulding, who continued to tease him about selling his prize pointer.
"With luck you will win her tonight, Goulding," Jonathan answered good-naturedly. "If you can persuade me to wager her, that is."
"It is simply unfair that you should have the finest pointer in the country. Mr. Bingley, do you not agree with me?" Goulding accosted the newly-arrived Bingley, who was followed, as usual, by Mr. Darcy.
"Unfair in the grossest degree, Mr. Goulding," Mr. Bingley answered smoothly. "Come, Mr. Bennet, we cannot allow you to keep all the fine hounds to yourself. Do let us persuade you to part with her."
"Mr. Bingley, if you are attempting to persuade Jonathan to give up Betsy, I fear you are headed for certain failure," said a new voice. The gentlemen turned to face Elizabeth, who had walked up in time to hear the last comment. "I have been trying to acquire her for years, but Jonathan will not even share with his own sister." She shook her head ruefully.
Mr. Bingley looked intrigued. "Do you hunt, Miss Elizabeth?"
"What a question to ask a lady, Mr. Bingley!" she teased. Mr. Darcy looked around and noticed that about two or three young men had joined the group and were watching Miss Elizabeth with expectant smiles on their faces. "May a lady hunt and still remain a lady?"
"Well-I..." Mr. Bingley smiled, but was at a loss for words.
"Mayhap it depends upon her prey, Miss Elizabeth," Mr. Darcy said quietly.
"Very nicely put, Mr. Darcy," she said demurely. "I am sure all of you have known many huntresses without ever having seen a gun in their hands." The group gave an appreciative chuckle. Mr. Darcy watched her, an indescribable look on his face. "But no, Mr. Bingley, I do not hunt. But I am very fond of Betsy, and have been trying to acquire her for years. Jonathan has often offered me a pup from her occasional litter, but I much prefer the original to a weak imitation."
"The mark of a true connoisseur," Mr. Darcy answered with a smile. "Are you this discerning about everything?"
"Perhaps not as discerning as you are, Mr. Darcy, for I understand that you are the most particular of men."
Mr. Darcy reddened. "Miss Bennet, I thought I had been forgiven."
"Ah, forgiveness can never erase memory, sir." Elizabeth smiled impishly.
"Is there yet another task I must perform to earn your forgetfulness, then?"
"Mr. Darcy!" exclaimed a very unwelcome feminine voice. Miss Caroline Bingley, resplendent in orange silk, descended upon that unfortunate gentleman and took his arm possessively. "Here I find you at last!"
Mr. Darcy made no reply, still watching Elizabeth closely. The other gentlemen had been following the conversation curiously, looking from one to the other. Miss Bingley, displeased with his inattention, turned to Elizabeth. "Why, Miss Bennet! Do you stand here amongst the gentlemen?"
"As you see," Elizabeth answered coolly.
"How dull I should find it! Conversations of guns and hunting and politics-hardly a lady's arena. I declare I can never make heads or tails of half of it!" She laughed disdainfully.
"But surely, Miss Bingley, the concept of politics cannot be altogether foreign to you," Elizabeth replied with a false smile. "I have often found many relationships of today's society to be nothing else."
"I quite understand what you mean. There *are* those of *limited means* who seek to better themselves by attempting to associate with persons of *superior standing*. I have always despised such people," Miss Bingley said venomously. She glanced contemptuously at Jonathan and then turned her gaze back on Elizabeth.
Elizabeth's eyes flashed dangerously. Jonathan recognized her look, and knew that her temper was boiling. Mr. Bingley blushed for his sister's insinuations, and Mr. Darcy merely watched, fascinated by the expression of Elizabeth's eyes as she fought to control the searing words that were undoubtedly bubbling at the tip of her tongue. Finally, she evidently decided that she could not speak without being unforgivably rude, and turned and walked away. Miss Bingley, triumphant, requested Mr. Darcy's assistance across the room.
After a moment of silence, with poor Mr. Bingley looking very much embarrassed, the gentlemen went their separate ways. Mr. Bingley quickly found Jane and immediately engaged her in conversation. Miss Bingley had manoeuvred Mr. Darcy to a small table where the Hursts were sitting and they had both sat down. Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen. Jonathan walked past the pianoforte and smiled at his sister Mary, who was practicing, as usual. He noticed that Miss Darcy stood nearby, watching his sister's performance. He was about to walk on when Mary finally lifted her fingers from the keys and Miss Darcy said quietly,
"You play so beautifully, Miss Mary."
Both Bennets turned to look at her: Jonathan in astonishment, Mary in gratitude.
"Thank you," Mary said rather proudly. "I practice at every opportunity. Do you play?"
A little emboldened, Miss Darcy walked a little way forward. "Yes, I do. I am so very fond of music, and your execution is so good."
"Perhaps you would favour us with a tune, Miss Darcy?" Jonathan asked.
Miss Darcy turned to look at him and coloured. "I-I do not know."
"Please do, Miss Darcy," Mary said condescendingly. "My fingers are a little tired."
"Very well, but please do not make me sing."
"If you like," Jonathan answered. He chose a seat nearby and watched as Mary relinquished the instrument. She took a station as page-turner and Miss Darcy took her seat.
A gentle, modest melody began to trickle out of the old instrument as Miss Darcy's fingers worked their magic. Her execution was nearly perfect, and her taste exquisite. Jonathan was captured by the innocence and clarity of her expression as her tiny fingers flew over the keys. Even Mary, usually so confident in her own ability and disdainful of others', seemed to enjoy it. Miss Darcy, so intent on her music, did not notice that everyone in the room was giving her their full attention, except perhaps Jane and Bingley, who seemed to notice no one but themselves. Mr. Darcy was watching his sister with a mixture of pride, joy, and an inexplicable sadness. As she struck the final note and applause sounded throughout the room, Miss Darcy looked up and briefly caught Jonathan's eye. She coloured and quickly looked away again, but he was amazed at the effect that even that one brief look could have on him. He was bewildered-so much so that he could not even enjoy hearing Mary's double-edged praise. First that strange energy between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, and now this. What was it about these Darcys?
When supper was announced, the usual confusion prevailed until everyone had found a seat. Mr. Darcy had taken a post at his sister's side, per usual, but found his attention being drawn away from her very often. In fact, it was more and more engaged by the young woman sitting a few seats down from him, although she had certainly never vied for that attention.
He studied Miss Elizabeth Bennet, trying to discern exactly what it was about her that fascinated him, for she did indeed fascinate him. He had watched her very often over the past few days, and found her completely perplexing. She was lively and cheerful, but intelligent and informed. There was good sense as well as good humour in her conversation, and she never tried to adapt the truth to appease someone else. Furthermore, and what was still more confusing, she refused to venerate anyone on the grounds of their wealth or consequence. She had certainly never demurred to Caroline Bingley, and sometimes Darcy wondered if she was even aware of his existence. It was as if she saw people as people, and fortune as fortune, and never confused one with the other. She was, as far as he could observe, the most real human being he had ever encountered, and he was completely flummoxed by her.
Chapter 6
"Ah, Mr. Bingley! Mr. Darcy! Mr. Hurst! And ladies! Capital, capital, so glad you could all come! Do come in, come in and enjoy yourselves." Sir William Lucas gave them quick but deep bows and waved them further into the room. "Ah, Miss Darcy, you will want to visit with your friend Miss Mary-she is there by the instrument, as you can see." Georgiana, confused by this burst of effusion, moved without comment to the pianoforte, where Mary greeted her with reserve. The gentlemen had made a strategic retreat from their host's presence, and so Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were left to accept his compliments.
Jonathan observed their entrance and Miss Darcy's tentative approach to his sister. To his consternation, Mary's reception of her was less than gracious. He glanced at Elizabeth, who stood not too far away. She caught his eye and walked over to Miss Darcy with a smile.
Mr. Bingley immediately secured Jane Bennet, as was becoming a peculiar habit of his, and proceeded to talk with her and her alone. That lady did not seem to mind being so engaged. It was the personal opinion of both Elizabeth and Jonathan that Jane was likely to fall very much in love with Bingley if such behaviour continued, and they could not think of a more perfect match.
Mr. Darcy had taken a circuit about the room seeking the perfect station. Apparently finding it, he leaned against the mantel and observed his sister and Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Miss Elizabeth had led Georgiana to a sofa and seemed to be taking pains with her. Georgiana's smiles were coming more easily and she appeared to be enjoying Miss Elizabeth's conversation. Darcy smiled. Perhaps something good might come out of this acquaintance after all. Between Mr. Jonathan Bennet and his sister, Georgiana might come out of the shell she had built around herself.
"Miss Darcy, I must say that I never felt more pleasure than I did when I heard you play," said Elizabeth.
"Thank you," Georgiana answered, blushing as usual at the praise.
"Forgive me; I had no wish to discompose you."
"Oh, no, I did not mean to imply..."
"Tell me, Miss Darcy, who is your favourite composer?"
Tentatively, Georgiana replied, "I believe Beethoven to be my favourite. There is such emotion and power in his music. It always leaves me breathless."
Elizabeth thought for a moment. "Yes, Beethoven is very fine. But he is so blustering and dramatic: his music hardly seems compatible with life. Sometimes Mozart, with his simple yet complex style is more to my taste."
Georgiana blinked in surprise. Accustomed as she was to Miss Bingley's agreeing with everything she said, this actual conversation was a bit bewildering. "I do not know-I have always heard it said that Mozart is too simple...that his lack of flourishes shows a lack of genius."
"Perhaps they might have a point," Elizabeth said, trying not to argue too vehemently and frighten the young woman. "However, I often think that the power to make something simple and yet thought-provoking is no mean art. Grand flourishes do not make fine music any more than fine clothes make a good person."
Georgiana giggled involuntarily, thinking that Miss Bingley seemed to think just the opposite. "I believe you have made your point, Miss Elizabeth. However, I do think Beethoven will always be my favourite."
Elizabeth smiled. She glanced up and met Mr. Darcy's eyes. There was such intensity and gratefulness in them that she dropped her own, confused. What could he mean by watching her with his sister? Hastily, she stood and said, "Will you take a turn with me, Miss Darcy?" Miss Darcy, a little surprised, readily consented, and they began a circuit of the room.
Elizabeth led her to Charlotte Lucas, who was talking with Colonel Forster, the colonel of the militia regiment lately quartered in Meryton. Miss Darcy had not yet met the colonel, and Elizabeth asked if she might introduce him. The introduction was consented to, and soon Miss Darcy found herself attempting to converse with not one, but three persons at once.
Darcy had tried to formulate some way to follow his sister and her charming friend without *seeming* to follow them, but had been completely at a loss. Finally, despairing of hitting on anything clever, he began to walk directly towards them. Colonel Forster had moved away, and Darcy's steps slowed. He was uncomfortable conversing with ladies, and had counted on another gentleman's presence to protect him. He wondered if he could decamp, but all was lost when Georgiana turned, saw him, and called him to her. Miss Elizabeth and Miss Lucas turned to him also, and he suddenly found himself at a loss for something to say.
Miss Elizabeth, apparently never at a loss, addressed him immediately. "Did you not think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself very well just now, as I was teasing Col. Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?"
Without having an idea of what had been said, Darcy replied carefully, "With great energy. But it is a subject which always makes a lady energetic."
Miss Elizabeth smiled knowingly. "You are severe on us."
Darcy reddened. He knew she was alluding to his ill-favoured remark from the assembly-ball.
"Lizzy," Miss Lucas said hastily, "I have not heard you play of late. I am going to open the piano-forte, and you know what follows."
Elizabeth blushed. "Charlotte, you are a very strange creature by way of a friend! You always want me to play and sing before anybody and everybody! There is a far superior musician before you. Appeal to *her* if you please, but leave me in peace."
"Do you play, then, Miss Elizabeth?" Georgiana asked shyly. "I should very much like to hear you."
"Oh..." Elizabeth was now powerless. Her one chance for extraction from this situation had been yanked away from her. She sighed. "If it must be so, it must." She turned to Darcy. "There is a fine old saying, which everyone here is of course familiar with-'Keep your breath to cool your porridge'-and I shall keep mine to swell my song."
He blinked, opened his mouth as if to answer her, but could find no words. It did not signify, however, because she was already moving towards the instrument.
"Brother?" Georgiana took his arm and whispered to him.
"Yes, my dear?" he acknowledged her, but kept his eyes trained on Miss Elizabeth.
"Do you think, perhaps, that I might visit Miss Elizabeth tomorrow?"
"I beg your pardon?" Startled, he turned to stare at his sister in wonder.
Georgiana blushed. "I like her very much, and wish to know her better."
"Well, Georgiana ... if that is what you wish, I shall not detain you."
"But you do not approve."
It was his turn to blush. "My dear, if I did not approve Miss Elizabeth, I would have extracted you from her company an hour ago."
"Will you call with me?"
"Of - of course, dear." Poor Darcy was completely flustered. The Bennets were not in their social sphere, and yet he had never denied Georgiana anything that would give her pleasure and not put her in harm's way. Almost never.
Miss Elizabeth's song finished to much applause from the entire room, and another was universally begged for. With an indulgent smile she seated herself again, and played a very quick, popular song that made many of her listeners smile in amusement.
"Imagine playing such a song at a party!" sneered Miss Bingley beside Darcy. Darcy visibly started, having not heard her approach them. "Any true musician knows that one should play one's best for audiences. Such a lack of fashion!"
"Indeed." At her brother's agreement, Georgiana looked at him in amazement, but saw a small, secret smile on his face that seemed to suggest that a lack of fashion might at some times be rather desirable.
Miss Bingley, however, was satisfied that he thought as she did, and when the song ended, applauded with great condescension.
Mary Bennet succeeded her sister at the piano-forte, and the little crowd around the instrument ebbed a bit. After a very long concerto, which few people paid much attention to, she was attacked by her younger sisters.
"Mary!" exclaimed Miss Lydia. "Do give us a reel! We are simply dying from boredom, and we want to dance!"
Miss Mary's lips tightened, but she agreed. Lydia squealed in happiness and grabbed the arm of the first officer she could light upon. Miss Catherine followed suit, and soon four servants were good-naturedly rolling up a carpet at one end of the room. The younger Miss Bennets took their places in the set, Miss Lydia fairly bursting with happiness, and the dance was off.
Miss Darcy, who had never witnessed an impromptu ball before, was very much surprised, and Mr. Darcy frowned in disapproval. They stood together until a young officer, fairly trembling with fright at having to face the formidable Mr. Darcy, took the opportunity to ask Miss Darcy for a dance. She agreed hesitantly and walked out onto the dance floor, leaving her brother to his ruminations.
"What a fine amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy," said a voice at that gentleman's elbow. Mr. Darcy turned to look at his new companion, Sir William Lucas. "There is nothing like dancing. One of the refinements of polished society, I believe."
"And every unpolished society." Darcy's smiled very slightly. "Every savage can dance."
Sir William blinked in confusion, but was spared the further confusion of trying to make an intelligent reply, by the approach of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
"Miss Eliza!" exclaimed the host, startling both his guests. "Why are you not dancing? Mr. Darcy, let me present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when such beauty is before you?"
He took Miss Elizabeth's hand and would have given it to Mr. Darcy, who had never felt more indebted to any man than he did at that moment to Sir William, but the hand was snatched out of his grasp. Elizabeth smiled awkwardly at her host and said,
"Sir William, you are much too kind and anxious for your guests' happiness. I did not come this way in order to beg for a partner, and have no intention of dancing."
"Oh, but Miss Eliza, your dancing is so superior that it is cruel to deny me the pleasure of seeing it. And Mr. Darcy, you see, does not object."
"I would be very honoured if you would dance this set with me, Miss Bennet," Darcy said formally.
Elizabeth's eyebrows rose. "That is very kind of you, Mr. Darcy, but I fear my inclinations have not changed."
Darcy's eyes narrowed. "Not in the slightest? No alteration whatsoever?"
She blushed at his line of questioning. "No, indeed. I stand firm. I am not buffeted about by the whims of others, Mr. Darcy. I am as unmoving as the oak."
"Even the oak breaks eventually."
"Will you not dance, Miss Eliza?" Sir William interjected, not able to follow this strange conversation.
"No, I thank you, Sir William. And you, Mr. Darcy," she added, almost as an after thought. She curtsied and moved away.
Sir William, not quite certain what had just occurred, left to attend to his other guests. Darcy watched Elizabeth with fascination. She certainly was unlike any woman he had ever encountered before, and he wondered how many more surprises she might hold for him. He continued to watch her unobserved for some time, when a voice at his elbow startled him from his thoughts.
"I believe I can guess your thoughts at this moment," Miss Bingley said quietly.
Darcy did not remove his eyes from their object. "I should imagine not."
"You are thinking how insupportable it would be to spend many evenings in this way, in such tedious company, and indeed I am quite of your opinion. The insipidity and yet the noise, the nothingness and yet the self-importance of all these people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!"
"Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you," Darcy replied with a hint of a smile on his lips. "My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow."
Miss Bingley fixed her eyes on his face. "And may one dare ask whose eyes have inspired such reflections?"
Darcy replied with great intrepidity, and not much thought, "Miss Elizabeth Bennet's."
"Miss Elizabeth Bennet!" exclaimed Miss Bingley with a very false smile. "I would never have thought it! How long has she been such a favourite, and when am I to wish you joy?"
"I expected such a question. A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in an instant. I knew you would be wishing me joy."
"Nay, if you are so serious about it, I shall consider the matter absolutely settled. What a charming mother-in-law you will have! And of course, the whole family will be often at Pemberley with you."
Had he turned red, or become agitated, Miss Bingley would have been more concerned; but as he was so serene about it all, she felt authorized to torment him as long as she pleased. It is fortunate for the gentleman, therefore, that his mind was once again very agreeably engaged elsewhere.
Chapter 7
When Miss Darcy's intention of calling upon Miss Elizabeth Bennet was known to the ladies of Netherfield, it was immediately decided between them that the poor young innocent should not go into the viper's nest without protection. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst volunteered to accompany Miss Darcy on her visit - an arrangement that promised little enjoyment for Miss Darcy, and a good deal of irritation for her brother. His attendance was now deemed unnecessary, and almost improper, and he therefore stayed at Netherfield.
The visit was paid, and the conversation was agreeable, but not the intimate chat that Miss Darcy had so anticipated. Any attempt at true conversation with Miss Elizabeth was ruthlessly scuppered by Miss Bingley and her sister. When the proper number of minutes had passed, Miss Bingley rose to take her leave, and the other ladies were obliged to follow suit. They returned to Netherfield, with Miss Darcy very much exasperated.
Elizabeth, having been almost as disappointed in the visit, walked out of doors, and met her brother.
"You have just missed some visitors, Jon," she said with a smile.
"Indeed?" Jonathan offered his sister his arm and they walked along the path together.
"Yes ... the ladies of Netherfield."
"Miss Darcy among them?"
"Of course, though she might as well have stayed at the house. The poor thing scarcely uttered a word. That Caroline Bingley..." and Elizabeth shook her head.
"Jane likes her, you know."
"Have you ever known Jane to dislike anyone? It is just as well, for Jane is the only person Miss Bingley does not treat with contempt."
"Perhaps they will become friends. Jane has a talent for bringing out the best in people."
"You assume that we have not yet seen the best of Miss Bingley. I wonder if that might not be the case."
"Lizzy!" Jonathan laughed and they walked on companionably. "What are you thinking?" Jon asked after Elizabeth had been silent some time.
"Our new neighbours are a puzzle to me, Jon." Elizabeth frowned a little.
"Surely not! Bingley and his sisters are extremely easy to understand."
"I suppose you are right. His friends, however, are different."
"Indeed, yes."
"I am not at all sure I like them."
It was Jonathan's turn to frown and look thoughtful. "Why ever not?"
"Oh, Miss Darcy I like well enough; it is only very difficult to draw her out. Mr. Darcy - I am not sure what he is about. He can be perfectly cordial one moment, and then proud and haughty the next."
"That is the fun of complex characters, Lizzy."
"True, but I do wish I could understand him."
"Bingley thinks he hung the moon."
"That is what I do not approve," Elizabeth said decidedly. "Mr. Bingley is a grown man, perfectly capable of making his own decisions. Mr. Darcy seems to watch over him almost as much as he watches his sister. Several times I have seen him watching Mr. Bingley with Jane with a very disapproving look."
Jonathan shrugged. "Perhaps he has reason to doubt Mr. Bingley's steadiness or judgment. We can never know, Lizzy."
"No, I suppose not." She sighed. "You know how I hate not knowing."
"Well, perhaps you will have an opportunity to study him, sister dearest. If this beginning is any indication, we will see quite a bit of the Netherfield party."
"A note for Miss Bennet," Hill said as she entered the breakfast-room the next day. Jane took the note, smiled at the housekeeper, and opened the envelope.
"What does it say, Jane?" her mother insisted. "Tell us, my dear. Who is it from?"
"It is from Miss Bingley," Jane began.
"A good sign!" exclaimed Mrs. Bennet. She rose from her place at the table, went to her daughter, and took the note from her hands. "Let me read it."
Jane blushed and stared at her plate as her mother unfolded the note. Elizabeth glanced at their father, but he made no move to prevent his wife from invading his daughter's privacy.
"'My dear friend,'" chuckled Mrs. Bennet importantly. "'Please come and dine with Louisa, Miss Darcy, and me today, or we shall be very distressed. We long for your company, and as the gentlemen are to dine with the officers I think we have a very good excuse to extend the invitation that I have long wanted to give. Come as soon as you can on the receipt of this. Yours ever, Caroline Bingley.' The gentlemen to dine out! How unlucky!"
Jane, however, apparently saw this to be no impediment. She turned to her father with a radiant smile. "May I have the carriage?"
"The carriage! How can you think of such a thing!" exclaimed her mother before Mr. Bennet could reply. "Do you plan to go all the way to Netherfield and back without seeing Mr. Bingley? No, no ... you must take Nelly, for it looks like rain, and then you will have to stay the night."
"Mother!" Jane cried, blushing very pink.
"Now, none of that, miss. You will never catch Mr. Bingley if you do not do a little planning. Nelly will do very well, and I do not want to hear another word on the matter."
Jane looked at Mr. Bennet to plead his assistance, but none was offered. Therefore, Jane soon rode the three miles to Netherfield on horseback. She was not gone long before it rained very hard. Mrs. Bennet was jubilant, and called on her children to praise her sagacity.
"I knew how it would be! Am I not clever? Now she will stay the night at Netherfield, and no harm done to anybody."
The younger girls agreed and laughed, and the older girls and Jonathan kept silent.
Mrs. Bennet's triumph was a little dampened the next day when Elizabeth received a note from Miss Bennet at Netherfield. She read it aloud.
"'My dear Lizzy, I find myself a little unwell this morning, which I suppose must be attributed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my leaving till I am better. Do not be alarmed; it is merely a sore throat, and I hope to come home in time for dinner.'" Elizabeth exchanged glances with Jonathan, who appeared concerned. Jane never complained about anything. If she said she felt a little unwell, she might be very ill indeed.
"Well, my dear," Mr. Bennet said, "if Jane should die of this fever, it will be a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of Mr. Bingley, and under your orders."
"Nonsense," snapped his wife. "People do not die of little trifling colds. She will be very well taken care of."
"Mama, I think I must go to Netherfield," Elizabeth said firmly.
"Go to Netherfield! There is no call for that; Jane is very well where she is. You had much better go to Meryton with your sisters and meet the officers."
"Aye, Lizzy; there are more than enough to go around," Lydia said slyly. Catherine giggled.
"I know that Jane wishes me to be with her."
"And how exactly do you plan to get there? You know the horses are needed in the farm this morning," Mrs. Bennet said.
"I shall walk. 'Tis but three miles, and I will be back for dinner."
Mrs. Bennet sputtered, but knew there was no deterring a determined Elizabeth.
Elizabeth set out for Netherfield with her youngest sisters, who were going to visit some officers' wives in Meryton. She left them at the entrance to the town and continued, jumping over puddles and climbing stiles with tireless activity. When she finally came in sight of the house, her feet ached and her petticoat was inches in mud. She gave her name and asked for Mr. Bingley, and was shown into the breakfast room, where she caused quite a stir. Mr. Bingley immediately leapt to his feet and helped her to a chair. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst said very little, but their looks showed their amazement at her having ventured so far by herself in such dirty weather. Miss Darcy was likewise amazed, but at the same time admiring. Mr. Darcy was torn between admiration for the brilliancy which exercise had given her complexion, and doubt as to the occasion's justifying her coming so far alone. Mr. Hurst thought only of his breakfast.
To her anxious inquiries after her sister, Elizabeth received rather unsatisfactory answers. Miss Bennet had slept very ill, and though up, was unable to leave her room. Elizabeth rose to her feet immediately on hearing this.
"I beg your pardon, but may I be taken to her this moment?" she said urgently.
"Of course, Miss Eliza," purred Miss Bingley. "Allow Louisa and me to show you to Miss Bennet's room. Miss Darcy, will you join us?" Terrified at the prospect of being the only lady left at table, Miss Darcy readily agreed, and the four ladies processed up to the sickroom.
Miss Bennet was up, and had dressed, but was still very poorly. Her complexion was pink, her voice weak, and her movements languid. Elizabeth urged her to return to bed, but she still talked of being quite well, and was hopeful of returning home that evening. Against this, however, every other woman in the room was positively determined. Miss Bingley very nearly ordered Miss Bennet to stay on at Netherfield until she was better, and when the apothecary came and gave his opinion that a journey home would be most unadvisable, Miss Bennet could argue no longer. She returned to bed, and Elizabeth stayed by her side. Miss Darcy excused herself to practice on the pianoforte in the music room, but Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were nearly as vigilant in the sickroom as Elizabeth herself. The gentlemen being absent, they had in fact nothing to do elsewhere.
Elizabeth was surprised at how well she was entertained during those hours. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst could certainly be very agreeable when they chose to be. They could talk very well, had many amusing anecdotes to relate, and many interesting people to talk of. In spite of herself, Elizabeth began to like them when she saw how much affection they showed for Jane. At three o'clock, Elizabeth felt that she must go home, and Jane became so unhappy about her departure that Miss Bingley, who had been offering Elizabeth the chaise, felt obliged to instead invite her to remain at Netherfield as well until her sister was recovered. Both the sisters felt the kindness in this gesture, though Elizabeth could not help but believe that it was made rather reluctantly, and Elizabeth accepted very gratefully.
Chapter 8
At five o'clock the two ladies retired to dress, and at half past six Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. When she entered the room, she was accosted on all sides with inquiries after her sister, and she had no very favourable answer to give them. Jane was still unwell. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst exclaimed a few times how sorry they were, how shocking it was to have a bad cold, and how excessively they disliked being ill themselves, and then thought no more of the matter. Elizabeth, on observing how indifferent they were to Jane when she was not immediately before them, was restored to all the enjoyment of her original dislike.
Elizabeth soon seemed in danger of being very much ignored. Miss Bingley had arranged the seating so that it best benefited herself and her own interests, and consequently Elizabeth was seated beside Mr. Hurst and across from Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy said very little to her, as Miss Bingley determinedly commanded his attention throughout the meal, and Mr. Hurst, when he found that Elizabeth preferred a plain dish to a ragout, had nothing to say to her at all. When the meal was over, Elizabeth immediately excused herself and returned to Jane's room, weary in mind as well as body.
The moment the door was shut on her, Miss Bingley's venom was unleashed. There was hardly a less pleasing or interesting creature as Miss Elizabeth Bennet in the world. Her manners were pronounced to very bad indeed: a mixture of pride and impertinence. She had no conversation, no style, no taste, and no beauty. The possibility of anyone's admiring her seemed laughable, and the likelihood of her ever marrying a man of consequence was too small to be counted.
"She has nothing, in short, to recommend her," Mrs. Hurst added to her sister's commentary, "but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild."
"She did indeed, Louisa," Miss Bingley answered. "I could hardly keep my countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all! Why must she be scampering about the country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair so untidy, so blowsy!"
"Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep in mud, I am absolutely certain; and the gown which had been let down to hide it, not doing its office."
Georgiana, for whom these cutting remarks were very embarrassing, especially as the action they were attacking appeared to her very kind and considerate, stared glumly at her plate. Bingley's expression was growing steadily darker, and when his sister stopped speaking, he said rather sharply,
"Your picture may be very exact, Louisa, but this was all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well, when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice."
"You observed it, I am sure, Mr. Darcy," Miss Bingley purred.
Darcy's nod was barely perceptible.
"And," she continued, "I know very well that Miss Darcy would never make such a daring exhibition."
Georgiana gave a small gasp and paled considerably. No one but she and her brother knew how close she had come to making a far worse exhibition of herself and her family. Darcy saw her distress and moved closer to his sister. Under the table, he reached for her hand to reassure her, but she pulled it away from him and bit her lip in consternation, tears beginning to form in her eyes.
Bingley and his sisters did not see Miss Darcy's emotion, and Miss Bingley carried on with her commentary.
"To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! What could she mean by it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most country-town indifference to decorum."
"It shows an affection for her sister that is very pleasing," Bingley argued, his colour rather higher than usual.
"I am afraid, Mr. Darcy," Miss Bingley said, calling that gentleman's attention from his sister, "that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine eyes."
"Not at all," he said easily. "They were brightened by the exercise."
Bingley looked at his friend in surprise, and Georgiana forgot for a moment her embarrassment and stared up at her brother in wonder. Neither had ever heard Fitzwilliam Darcy admire anything about any woman, and the fact that he evidently admired this woman and that the admiration was increasing, astounded them both. Miss Bingley looked as if she did not quite know what to say, but her sister saved her by observing,
"I have an excessive regard for Jane Bennet; she is really a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with such a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it."
"I think I have heard you say, that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton," Miss Bingley said.
"Yes, and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside."
"That is capital," Miss Bingley said slyly. "Perhaps we should call when we are next in town."
Mrs. Hurst squealed in laughter, but Bingley glared at them. "They would be just as agreeable to me," he said sharply, "had they uncles enough to fill all Cheapside."
"But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world," Darcy said.
Bingley made no answer, but his sisters agreed readily. After exercising their wit a little longer on their dear friend's vulgar relations, the two women retired to the sickroom until coffee. Elizabeth would not quit her sister's side for a moment, till late in the evening, when Jane fell into a comfortable sleep, Elizabeth thought it rather right than pleasant that she should go downstairs.
She found the party collected in the drawing room. Miss Darcy sat at the instrument, studying some new sheet music she had received that afternoon. The others were at cards, and although Elizabeth was directly invited to join them, she declined, and making her sister the excuse, said she would amuse herself for the short time she could stay below with a book. Mr. Hurst looked very surprised at this, and observed that it was very singular of her to prefer reading to cards.
"Miss Eliza Bennet," Miss Bingley said in a tone of false sweetness, "despises cards. She is a great reader, and takes no pleasure in anything else."
"I deserve neither such praise, nor such censure," Elizabeth answered. "I am not a great reader, and I take pleasure in many things."
"You are fond of music, are you not, Miss Bennet?" Miss Darcy asked timidly.
Elizabeth smiled at the girl, of whom she was growing quite fond. "Very fond indeed, Miss Darcy."
"In nursing your sister, I am sure you have pleasure," Bingley said grandly, "and I hope it will soon be rewarded with seeing her quite well."
"Oh, there is little fear of that, Charles," Miss Bingley said airily. "I am sure Miss Bennet has a very healthy constitution."
Elizabeth's lips thinned, but she said nothing, and turned to inspect some books on a table. Mr. Bingley immediately offered to send for more, or have someone show her to the library.
"I would not advise that, Charles," Darcy said with the hint of a smile on his lips. "Your library could frighten the most avid readers out of a love for books."
"I do wish it were larger for my friends' benefits and my own credit," Bingley replied laughingly, "but I am an idle fellow, and though I haven't many, I have more than I ever look into."
"I am astonished," Miss Bingley said, "that my father left so small a collection of books."
"I am astonished that you are astonished, my dear sister," Bingley said with a wry smile, "as he read even less than myself."
His sisters' complexions coloured slightly, but Miss Bingley continued smoothly, "What a wonderful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!"
"It ought to be good," Darcy said carelessly. "It has been the work of many generations."
"But you have added so much to it yourself. You and Miss Darcy, I know, are always buying books."
"I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these."
"Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of that noble place! Charles, when you build your house, I hope it may be as delightful as Pemberley."
"I wish it may."
"I really advise you to make your purchase in that neighbourhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There is no finer county than Derbyshire."
Charles sighed in an exasperated manner and said, "With all my heart, I will buy Pemberley itself, if Darcy will sell it."
"I am talking of possibilities, Charles."
"Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get Pemberley by purchase than by imitation."
Elizabeth was so much interested in the conversation that she put away her book and took a seat at the table between Mr. Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. Miss Darcy, likewise intrigued, moved closer.
Miss Bingley happened to notice Miss Darcy's movements and, calling for a servant to place another chair beside her, beckoned the poor young lady to sit beside her. When Miss Darcy was seated, Miss Bingley exclaimed,
"Miss Darcy, it is extraordinary how much you have grown since the spring! Mr. Darcy, do you think she will be as tall as I am?"
"I think she will. She is now, as you see, about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's height, or rather taller."
"And my dear," Miss Bingley added, turning back to Miss Darcy, "I have been meaning to compliment you on how accomplished you have become. Your performance on the piano-forte is exquisite!"
"I must extend the compliment," Bingley said good-naturedly, "to all young ladies present. It is extraordinary to me how you have the patience to be so accomplished as you, and indeed all young ladies, are."
"All young ladies accomplished!" Miss Bingley exclaimed. "Charles, what can you mean?"
"Yes, yes, my dear sister, all young ladies. They play, sing, draw, dance, speak French and German, cover screens, and I know not what!"
His sisters looked scandalized. Elizabeth laughed, and Miss Darcy smiled, but Mr. Darcy said solemnly, "There are not half a dozen who would satisfy my idea of an accomplished woman."
Elizabeth turned to him. "You must comprehend a great deal in it."
"Yes, I do."
"Certainly!" cried Miss Bingley. "A lady must surpass what is usually met with to be truly esteemed accomplished. She must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, all the modern languages, to deserve the word, and besides all this she must possess a certain something in her air and the manner of walking, in the tone of her voice, her address and expressions."
"All this she must possess, and to all this she must add something more substantial in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading."
Elizabeth smiled. "I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any."
Darcy's eyebrows rose. "Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all this?"
"I never saw such a woman," Elizabeth said stoutly. "I never saw such capacity, and taste, and elegance, and application, as you say, united."
Bingley's sisters exclaimed at the injustice of her doubt, and would have named the many accomplished ladies they had the pleasure of knowing, had not Mr. Hurst's disgruntled remarks about their inattention to the game called them to order. As conversation was at an end, Elizabeth soon afterwards left the room. No sooner was the door shut upon her than Miss Bingley said,
"Eliza Bennet is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undermining their own, and with many men, I dare say it succeeds. But in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art."
"Undoubtedly," Darcy said smoothly, "there is meanness in all the arts which young ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable."
Georgiana could not help but smile at her brother's neat insinuation, and Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with his reply as to continue the subject.