“Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” he replied without considering his words.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet!” Miss Bingley spat the name out as she felt the bile rising in her throat. “I am all astonishment. Is she now in fact tolerable enough to tempt you? How long has she been such a favourite? Pray, when am I to wish you joy?’
“That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love and from love to matrimony in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy,” Darcy hedged as he realised his mistake in saying anything, especially to Miss Bingley. That she had thrown his misspoken words back in his face did not well please him.
“Nay, if you are serious about it, I shall consider the matter is absolutely settled. You will have a charming mother-in-law indeed; and, of course, she will always be at Pemberley with you,” Miss Bingley sneered. She needed to point out the disadvantages of Miss Eliza’s family.
Miss Elizabeth finished her song to thunderous applause but demurred when requested to sing another. She was replaced at the instrument by her younger sister, Mary. She had just begun to play a concerto in her very pedantic, non-feeling style when Lydia yelled at her.
“Mary, play Grimstock, or something else to which we can dance,” Lydia demanded.
Before she could object, their mother spoke up. “Play a lively song, Mary, no one wants to listen to one of your concertos.”
Mary agreed with no good cheer. A carpet was moved to the side of the room and soon the two youngest Bennets were dancing with the two captains and Bingley had led Jane to join them.
Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation. He was wishing Miss Elizabeth had not refused to play another song. He was too much engrossed by his thoughts to perceive Sir William Lucas was his neighbour.
“What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! There is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished society,” Sir William claimed.
“Certainly sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance,” Darcy responded dryly.
Sir William only smiled. “Your friend enjoys dancing,” he inclined his head towards Bingley and Miss Bennet, “and I doubt not you are proficient at dancing yourself, Mr. Darcy.”
“You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe Sir,” Darcy responded wishing the man would move on.
Just then Sir William noticed Miss Eliza moving towards them. “My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing?” He turned to the man from Derbyshire, “Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance with such a beauty before you.” He reached as to take Elizabeth’s hand to give to Mr. Darcy. She stopped before he was able to.
“Indeed, Sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose I moved this way to beg for a partner,” Elizabeth stated forthrightly.
“Would you stand up with me, please Miss Elizabeth?” Darcy requested gravely.
“As I just said, I have no intention of dancing. It is not something I findtolerablethis evening,” Elizabeth responded archly.
By the time Darcy recovered after having his unwise words flung in his face, Miss Elizabeth had gone to join Miss Lucas. Thanks to Miss Bingley’s indecorous words, it was not the first reminder of his unwise and rude insult that evening.
Miss Elizabeth was indeed singular. His reported income, which was not close to reality, would not induce her to dance with him. He could think of no other woman in society who would have refused his entreaty regardless of what he would have said to or about them.
He felt a burgeoning attraction to Miss Elizabeth, and he knew not what to do with it. She was, after all, so far below him in society.
Chapter 4
Everything had been peaceful that morning—as much as the Bennet house was ever peaceful—when a note from the supercilious sisters arrived. Within was an invitation for Jane to join Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley for dinner as they were to be alone due to the men dining with the officers at the Red Lion Inn in Meryton that evening.
Mama had, as was her wont, snatched the note from Jane’s hand. Her effusions were plenty when she saw her eldest was invited to dine with, as she called them, theelegantandrefinedladies of Netherfield Park.
Jane, with her ‘see no evil’ way, accepted the invitation sending her reply with the waiting footman who had delivered the offer for her to dine with the sisters. Elizabeth had clamped her mouth closed when in her naïvety—in Elizabeth’s opinion—Jane had extoled her newfriends.
As she was sure as she was breathing, Elizabeth was certain the sisters were anything but Jane’s friends. After the assembly, and again after Lucas Lodge, she had attempted to have Jane open her eyes to the reality of the sisters, but as she always did, Jane only sought the most noble and true motives in the supercilious sisters’ behaviour.
One thing puzzled Elizabeth ever since that night at Lucas Lodge, when they had been in company together, Miss Bingley was no longer just disdainful to her, it seemed like there was seething hatred directed at her from Mr. Bingley’s sister.
As would be expected, Jane requested the use of the carriage to convey her to Netherfield Park. Their mother looked out at the darkening sky and building clouds and then decreed the horses were busy on the farm and Jane would have to ride the plodding mare, Nellie, to her dinner engagement.
The reasoning was if the carriage was used, then Jane would return that evening without seeing Mr. Bingley and that, to Mama’s way of thinking, was unacceptable. She was certain it would rain making it impossible for Jane to return, hence she would be thrust into Mr. Bingley’s company again.
Elizabeth appealed to her father to intercede, but her mother interjected before he could. The result was he receded rather than have an argument, which would have led to much screeching and caterwauling.
Now Elizabeth stood at the window looking out into the pouring rain while her mother sat in her favourite chair in the drawing room, a smug, satisfied look on her countenance. To make matters worse, not many minutes after Jane’s departure on Nellie, her father had boarded the Bennet carriage to carry him to the inn for the dinner with the officers.
