Mr. Darcy replied with a clear refusal.
“No, no, I say, some of them are uncommonly pretty.”
“You are dancing with the only pretty girl in the room,” Mr. Darcy said, which comment brought a pouty frown to Lydia’s face. Though she could not disagree that Jane had greater beauty, it was not a fact which Lydia particularly likedto be reminded about. “But she smiles too much”—this addition from Mr. Darcy visibly improved Lydia’s mood.
She glanced meaningfully at Elizabeth, who also could not suppress an amused smile.
“Smiles too much!” Mr. Bingley protested. “I would not be so fastidious as you for a kingdom. But her sister and cousin are sitting behind, and they are both, I dare say, excessively pretty.”
Mr. Darcy now turned to them.
He glanced quickly over Lydia and then looked at Elizabeth.
Their eyes met, and something flipped in Elizabeth’s stomach.
Despite her habits she did not immediately look down and away as she should have. His mien was serious. She forced herself to look away, amused by something she could not explain to herself.
Mr. Darcy turned back to Bingley and said in a voice loud enough for them to both clearly here, “They are tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me. I am in no mood at present to give consequence to young women that have been slighted by other men.”
Such an end to that odd instant of fluttering hope that Elizabeth had felt that he would ask her to dance. Elizabeth struggled not to giggle at herself.
Bingley returned to Jane, and Mr. Darcy returned to his contemplation of the dance floor.
“La, what a disagreeable fellow,” Lydia whispered to Elizabeth. She huffed and frowned at Mr. Darcy, who still did not look at them. Lydia got a sly look to her eye. “I do believe he spoke more of you than of me. Are you not terribly offended?”
“No.”
“You are no fun! It would be such a todo if a great gentleman fell in love with you instead of Jane. I do believe Mama would scream and claw you. Does not your vanity demand revenge—I know what I shall do. It will be such a joke. I will pretend to be horribly offended and heartbroken by what he said. Watch, I shall make as though I am crying and then I will shout at him—and after, I shall run out to the balcony, and you must follow me.”
“No, do not—”
“La! You cannot stop me!”
Lydia leapt from the seat with a blotchy and squeezed together expression that someone who did not know better, and who had not seen it resolve into smiles within seconds many times, would have thought showed the emotion a woman might have when mourning her dead husband or lost virtue.
Mr. Darcy turned towards the sound of Lydia’s rushing footsteps, but it seemed that facing the sober gentleman’s sober gaze had a sobering effect on Lydia. There was something imposing and intensely proud and respectable about Mr. Darcy. It seemed that his ill-tempered comment that he was unwilling to be tempted by them was not sufficient to make him a figure of mockery.
Elizabeth thought rather more now of Mr. Bingley for his bravery in having poked such a bear with his bare hands, instead of using a stick.
Lydia and Mr. Darcy stared at each other for what seemed to Elizabeth’s anxious nerves a terribly long time. Perhaps half a minute, though likely it was less. Lydia did keep the devastated expression upon her face, and she managed to get some glistening tears to start down her face.
By now Mrs. Bennet would have already promised Lydia five guineas, to come out in society the day she turned fifteen (no matter how much it annoyed Mr. Bennet) and the purchase ofan ugly new bonnet that she might tear apart to make something better with. Mr. Bennet would have been in full retreat to the library, whilst rolling his eyes at the antics of his youngest child.
Mr. Darcy’s expression was unemotional, with just a hint of confusion.
“Oh, I am not ugly,” Lydia at last stuttered out, in a mumble that Elizabeth could barely hear. “Not so… oh, never mind.”
The girl successfully accomplished the portion of her plan where she ran out the nearest balcony doors. With a sigh, Elizabeth rose to follow her. She glanced back at Mr. Darcy who stared after Miss Lydia with a puzzled frown.
Their eyes met.
Elizabeth felt that sense of something twisting in her stomach again. She gave him a small smile and little shrug before following Lydia.
Elizabeth was far more amused by Lydia’s stumbling in her joke than she would have been by complete “success”.
The instant Elizabeth stepped out onto the balcony Lydia burst into helpless giggles. “So imposing! Such a forbidding expression.” A giggle that was halfway to tears. “I couldn’t shout. I could barely say anything. Such an imposing face.”
“It was quite improper to try.” Elizabeth could not keep the amusement out of her tone.
