"Yes," he managed, though the word came out rather stiff.
Miss Elizabeth's eyebrows rose slightly, and he caught that flash of amusement again. She was laughing at him. Silently, politely laughing.
Would she laugh at him still were he to capture those teasing lips with his own?
"If you wish, I will make up a list of the families who will need to be moved," she offered. "It will save Mrs. Nicholls some time. Jane and I may be visitors, but we prefer not to be idle ones."
“That would be appreciated,” Bingley told her. “I believe there is a writing table in the library with everything you require.”
Miss Elizabeth nodded and disappeared.
After she departed, Bingley murmured, "Miss Elizabeth is a very capable woman."
Darcy did not respond, though he silently acknowledged the truth. Capable, yes. But also reckless. He had been watching Miss Elizabeth for weeks before her unexpected arrival at Netherfield.
In that time, he had seen her step up on a stone to retrieve a young lady’s ribbon from the branches of a tree, reaching out a good deal farther than was safe. He had witnessed her perched atop a shaky ladder at Lucas Lodge, plucking Miss Maria Lucas's kitten from the guttering while dressed in her evening attire. She was already halfway down with the creature before he could move to assist. And the last time he had been in Meryton, he had seen her dart into the road to retrieve a wayward child who had escaped his mother. Those riding past could see Miss Elizabeth far better than a child who had only just begun to walk, but the road had been busy.
Shewascapable. But she was also impulsive. Kind, but reckless.
Dinner was a carefully orchestrated exercise in social torture. Miss Bingley lamented their confinement with theatrical sighs while shooting pointed looks at the Bennet sisters. Mrs. Hurst remained upstairs with aconvenient headache. Mr. Hurst indulged too freely in wine and was becoming philosophical.
"I simply cannot bear the thought of being confined here for days on end." Miss Bingley sighed dramatically. "What shall we do with our time? The nearest neighbour of any quality is miles away, and even they are unreachable now."
Darcy caught the faintest frown on Miss Elizabeth's face and found himself agreeing with her obvious thoughts. There was more than enough work to keep one occupied, should one choose to be of service rather than complaining.
Apparently, Hurst felt the same. “It is a curious thing,” he said, staring at the rain streaking the window from his chair at the table, “how a river will swell and spill over its banks without a thought for the trouble it causes. Much like certain ladies I know, overflowing with idle talk until the house itself is in danger of drowning.”
"We must make our own amusements, Caroline," Bingley replied cheerfully. "We have a pianoforte, books, cards. And excellent company."
He smiled warmly at Miss Jane Bennet, who blushed prettily. Bingley was going to raise expectations if he was not careful.
"Yes, we are fortunate indeed to have Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth with us," Miss Bingley said, her tone artificially sweet. "Though I fear they must be dreadfully homesick, separated from theirdearfamily."
The ever-composed Miss Bennet replied with quiet grace. "It is difficult to be parted from my parents and sisters, of course, but your kindness, Miss Bingley, and that of your brother, has made us feel most welcome. We are grateful for your hospitality."
Bingley’s eyes softened with something perilously close to devotion. “It has been entirely my pleasure, Miss Bennet. I only regret that suchcharming guests should be forced to remain here by the weather. Though I confess I cannot be sorry for the selfish delight I take in your company.”
He leaned ever so slightly towards her, and though Miss Bingley’s next sigh had a bite to it, no one said as much.
"And you, Miss Eliza?" Miss Bingley turned to Miss Elizabeth with predatory interest. "How do you fare? I imagine you must find Netherfield’s simple diversions quite limiting after the excitement of . . . Meryton."
Miss Elizabeth merely smiled. "I am quite content, Miss Bingley. I am never without occupation of some sort."
"Perhaps after dinner, Miss Eliza might favour us with a performance on the pianoforte," Miss Bingley suggested sweetly. "I am sure we would all benefit from some soothing music."
Darcy had heard Miss Elizabeth at Lucas Lodge and had found her playing lovely, but she had chosen simple airs. Miss Bingley was setting her up for embarrassment.
Miss Elizabeth's arched brow suggested she understood perfectly. "You are very kind, but I fear my playing is not nearly accomplished enough for such discerning company. Perhaps you might favour us instead? I recall your performance last week was . . . impressive."
Impressive did not always mean good. Miss Elizabeth had returned the compliment while gracefully declining to be humiliated. And he had caught her pause as well. Miss Elizabeth’s playing was emotional rather than technical, but Miss Bingley’s was technical without any feeling at all.
He knew which he preferred.
Darcy had long prided himself on mastering his impulses, yet Miss Elizabeth Bennet seemed determined to undo him at every turn. Her fine eyes sparkled too much, her wit cut too sharply, her beauty was enhanced when she smiled. The combination left him thoroughly unsettled.
This was intolerable. He was a man of consequence, not some schoolboy to become besotted by fine dark eyes and clever remarks. It was precisely why, in the fortnight after the Meryton assembly, he had taken such pains to assure his friends that Miss Elizabeth was entirely without charm, that she had, in fact, scarcely a good feature in her face. He had convincedthemwith remarkable ease. The only person he had failed to persuade, unfortunately, was himself.
It was an inconvenient attraction. Nothing more.
