Within half an hour the pair were positioned in the Bennet’s best room, Mrs. Bennet’s pleasure at their visit a topic spoken of at length as he and Bingley listened to her politely. To his right on two small chairs sat the youngest Miss Bennets near their mother, the middle sister to the far left, and the eldest two seated in a well-positioned beam of sunlight across from them, their hair and eyes all but shining in the light.
“I cannot tell you how thrilled we are to have such lively company,” Mrs. Bennet rhapsodized, “and so soon after the assembly. Mr. Bingley, I am certain you have been told many times that you are an excellent dancer, but it is true in every respect. Indeed, aside from my Jane here, I have hardly seen better. It is rare to see as handsome a couple as you two made last evening who also possess such marked skill…”
“Mamma,” Miss Elizabeth rushed, “as the day is at last dry, was there not an errand you wished us to discharge? It is but three days until a certain event you may recall; we do not have much time.”
“Yes, yes,” Mrs. Bennet flapped her handkerchief in Miss Elizabeth’s direction. “Run along if you must… and take Mary and Kitty with you, yes, and Lydia too. I am certain it shall take you all. What of you, Mr. Darcy? I suppose an active man such as yourself would require exercise, and asyoudid not dance last evening, I am certain walking must be much more to your liking. Mr. Bingley though, oh, I imagine you are as wearied as my dear Jane… not that it was too much for her, mind, she is of excellent health, but you and she did dance a great deal. I would not wish to overtax either of you.”
“No ma’am, I quite agree,” Bingley rushed, his hand coming to rest on Darcy’s arm, his eyes crinkling in some wickedamusement, “Though, as you say, my friend here does seem in need of a good walk; far too pale in my opinion.”
“I would be honoured to escort your daughters,” Darcy announced as he stood, a light bow in Mrs. Bennet’s direction and a firm scowl in Bingley’s.
True, a walk sounded a far better use of time–particularly when his friendship with Miss Elizabeth might be begun–but Bingley’s smug mein could lower any man’s good humour.
“Miss Elizabeth. Miss Mary. Miss Kitty. Miss Lydia,” he remarked to each sister as they moved toward the door, his attention lingering on the first’s soaked bonnet and gloves. “Shall we?”
Nodding, Miss Elizabeth took the lead, his own long stride required to find pace with her until, just as he matched her, she halted, his footing awkward as he came to a stop in a rather muddy puddle.
“Kitty,” Miss Elizabeth hummed. “Did you not need to visit Maria? You and Mary ought to hurry there, for I believe she has received some exquisite new fashion plates, and a new sheet of music as well. Something to interest you both!”
Gaze quizzical as he viewed Miss Elizabeth and then the wide eyes and furrowed brows of her sisters, Darcy took half a step back.A device to leave her and he with only one sister to chaperone them? He had thought her less devious, less eager to catch a husband? Yet, what else could this be?
“Why must I stay behind?” Miss Lydia whined. “Maria is as much my friend as Kitty’s, and Mary is nothing to her. If anyone must go with you, why not she?”
Sighing, Miss Elizabeth shook her head, “Ought not Mary have the opportunity to learn a new piece while Kitty enjoys the fashion plates?” Eyes lifting heavenward as Miss Lydia crossed her arms in defiance, Miss Elizabeth gave way. “Go. I can complete our errands far quicker on my own in any case.”
Alone? They would be alone? It might not be remote, few would contrive impropriety, but alone?
Gulping, Darcy took a full step back.Attractive. Engaging. Lively. She certainly would not make the worst Mrs. Darcy in those respects, but her family, her finances. Would she truly seek a compromise?
Her sisters making their way in the opposite direction, Miss Elizabeth turned in his, her eyes bright as she smiled up at him. “There, you have your peace. I imagine that your lack of enjoyment with dancing lends itself to a dislike of exertion of any sort, so you may be on your way in the knowledge that you were as polite a guest of my mother’s as we expected; I know the way to Meryton, you can be sure.”
Blinking, he studied her closely.A tightness of brow. A tapping foot. She appeared in some agitation. Perhaps her plan to leave them unattended had been more successful than she had thought? Yet, her words were bordering on rude, or was it embarrassment? Yes, embarrassment, that must be it. He ought to do as she suggested then and leave her alone, but that would be ungentlemanly.
“I am actually rather fond of walking,” Darcy supplied as he motioned toward Meryton, Miss Elizabeth hesitating for but a moment before the two began to walk side by side.
The world silent save for the song of birds, rustling wind, and the soft thud of their footfalls, Darcy observed Miss Elizabeth from the corner of his eye.
Lips pressed. Eyes anywhere but on him, she proved a conundrum. One which he wished to solve before their short walk placed them in Meryton.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he remarked, her attention turning to him at last. “Do you travel often to London? Meryton is so near, it must be an easy journey.”
A lone brow raising, she tilted her head before answering, “Not too often. With five daughters and a disinclination for London society, my father prefers to stay us all away. Were it not for my aunt and uncle who reside there, I believe we would never journey to London.”
“I can understand your father’s disinclination. The city does have its charms, but it is exacting in its expectations; a play one evening, a ball another, and little enough time for the tasks one must accomplish in-between."
“You, I take it then, prefer country life to London society? I would have thought the reverse.”
“True. I suppose for a man of my years to prefer country life to London would be surprising, and many men may well prefer the city, however, a man in my position can often find London society tedious, what with all those young ladies and their mamma’s out to capture rich husbands. It is a constant, I fear. Though not limited to London truly, I suspect there may be more ladies of that ilk there. Still, the country is as filled with them as anywhere, and in the broad light of day instead of candlelight many of them are not so handsome.”
Turning as Miss Elizabeth came to a halt, Darcy’s thoughts swirled at the sight before him. Her hands clenched, feet and shoulders set wide, and a glare he had never seen matched lent no end of confusion.
Whatever had he said?
“Mr. Darcy,” she intoned, closing the gap between them as her hands came to rest on her hips, “I had hoped Charlotte correct this morning and that all I surmised of your character was merely a rare miscalculation on my part, but it seems that hope was mislaid. Are you to tell me then, sir, that I am somehow not alone in being ‘not handsome enough to tempt you,’ for it would appear that all it takes is for a young lady to be from the country to hold loathsome features–though one might have thought the candlelight would have favoured me somewhat. No, it would seem that a man of your character, who thinks every woman on earth somehow wishes to be bound to him, is all that I thought and indeed, worse.”
Mouth agape, Darcy sought to process the words of the fiery woman before him.
She had heard him at the assembly, that much was certain. But the rest? Her vitriol seemed greater than an insult to her person, and her words were… infuriating! Vain, pompous, surely she thought him all that, and worse still, ungentlemanly, for that is what she had implied. She, with her embarrassing connections and a pauper’s fortune. To think he had been prepared to offer her friendship; and she, who, with her mother, had been hoping to catch him as a husband!
