It was not a great mystery as to what had caused the release of her vitriol in the coach. Darcy had stuck to his determination not to dance with her. The only set he had danced was with Mrs Hurst. That made him think of the words he had flung at Bingley to cause him to leave him alone when his friend attempted to convince him to dance. He hoped the young lady had not heard him.
Once he had truly looked at the woman, something he had not done when Bingley harangued him, he had seen she was more than handsome enough to tempt him. Then tohis chagrin, he had overheard talk of how the young ladies voluntarily sit out two sets each, thanks to the lack of partners because of the war on the continent. He had realised then that not only had he been wrong in everything he said, but regardless of his discomfort in dancing with one not well acquainted with him, the gentlemanly thing would have been to ask some of the local ladies to stand up with him.
As much as Darcy had been attempting to ignore the vitriol spewing forth from the harridan’s mouth, his attention was captured.
“Such country mushrooms are not close to our level of society,” Miss Bingley continued her list of complaints.
“Excuse me, Miss Bingley, what level of society would that be?” Darcy asked innocently, almost sure she would take his bait. “As far as I could tell, the vast majority of those present were landed gentry.”
“That they may be, but they are not close to the circles we inhabit,” she averred. “Did you not see the lack of sophistication and fashion? Most of thegownsI saw were two and more years out of date.”
“That is neither here nor there,” Darcy responded dismissively. “Who are thewein the upper circles?”
“Why you and us, of course,” Miss Bingley said as if to a child who lacked understanding.
“As much as I would prefer not to, I am afraid I must disabuse you of your notions thatweare at the same societal levels,” Darcy replied. “The Darcys are members of theTon, the upper echelon of the first circle. The gentry who attend this assembly are, like Hurst here, members of the third level. You, Miss Bingley are a tradesman’s daughter, so you are below the gentry in attendance. You can see how I am confused by your statement, can you not?”
If it had not been dark in the cabin of the coach, the others within would have seen Miss Bingley’s countenancetake on a purple hue as the fury took hold at her roots being pointed out to her. That it was Mr Darcy who had done so was far more mortifying.
There were no objections to the fact the youngest Bingley was silent for the rest of the ride to Netherfield Park, save for some incoherent muttering.
Chapter 3
Each time the Netherfield Park party—which was always late—were in company with the Bennets, Bingley found his way to his new angel’s side. At a dinner at the Gouldings’ Haye Park, Elizabeth had been standing and smiling as she looked at Jane and how she displayed the subtle signs she welcomed Mr Bingley’s attentions.
This evening, they were invited to Lucas Lodge where, according to Charlotte, Mr Bingley and the other residents of Netherfield Park would be in attendance. Thoughts of them, and especially a tall, dark, and exceptionally handsome man from Derbyshire, reminded Elizabeth of a conversation she had with Mr Darcy at Haye Park
Elizabeth had noted how Mr Darcy had removed Miss Bingley’s hand from his arm. He had bent over and said something only she could hear, and from the pinched look it produced on the supercilious woman’s face, she had not appreciated what had been related to her.
She had not been sure where Mr Darcy had gone, as she had turned to look at Jane and Mr Bingley sitting together on a settee. They maintained a proper distance one from the other—Janey wouldneverbreach propriety—but their heads were close so they had been able to converse easily. Both wore wide smiles; Elizabeth had easily seen the glow around Janey’s person which had confirmed her suspicion that her sister was falling in love with Mr Bingley.
She had shaken her head as she thought how smug Mamawould be if Janey became engaged to Mr Bingley. It was with that thought she had detected the smell of a man’s cologne, specifically sandalwood and spice. She knew who wore that particular scent.
“Mr Darcy,” she had greeted and given a half curtsy.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he had responded. He had not spoken for some moments, rather he had stared at his friend and Jane intently, as if trying to solve some great puzzle. It was not the same way he stared at herself. She had opined it was to find fault, but her dearest sister had pointed out the fallacy in her logic. “May I ask you something with regards to your sister? If you choose not to answer, I will not push you.”
As she could not imagine what the man had wanted to enquire about one of her sisters, Elizabeth’s native curiosity had won out. “Please do,” she had allowed. “However, if it is something which requires me to break a confidence, or it is too personal, I will not reply.”
“That is fair,” he had averred. “I am sure one as observant as you has not missed the amount of attention Bingley pays to Miss Bennet, or that she seems to receive his attentions willingly.” Elizabeth had allowed that it was so. “I have seen Bingley fall in love many times with his latest angel, only to fall out of love as speedily as he started.”
“Are you telling me your friend is a rake?” she had asked concernedly.
“No, not at all. He is young and in thepasthas been somewhat fickle. In the last number of months he has matured, and his spine has stiffened. In the years I have been his friend, never have I seen an attachment like the one he seems to have to Miss Bennet. My question stems from the fact that I know my friend, but I know not your sister. I see her smiles, but I have seen the same smiles directed to other men. My worry for my friend is that in his naïveté he would accept one whom he loves but may not love him in return.” He had looked over at Mrs Bennet. “One who would be following the dictates of her mother and not her heart.When I am asked for my opinion, as I will be, I do not want to base my advice on a faulty premise. As I have observed how close you and Miss Bennet are, I am certain you know her far better than I do.”
At first Elizabeth had wanted to respond with asperity, but she had thought about how Janey would have reacted. Her older sister would have truly listened to the words and Mr Darcy’s intent. When she did, Elizabeth understood the genesis of his questions.
“I will not breach my sister’s trust. That being said, I must tell you that Jane and I swore long ago we would only marry for the deepest love and respect. Jane is of age, so no one is able to force her into a marriage she does not desire. Regardless of my mother’s wishes, and no matter how loudly she proclaims them, my father would support any of us if we chose not to accept a proposal from a man we do not love. A good friend of ours has opined that if a man shows preference to a lady, she needs to show more than she feels to encourage the man. Jane would never do that. She will stick to propriety at all times, as it should be.” Elizabeth had looked across the room at a fuming Miss Bingley. “She would not, and neither would I, try to force her attentions on a man, grab onto his arm possessively, or stalk a man like he is a stag being hunted. We know until a man speaks, there is nothing we can do. Jane has not told me how she feels about your friend, so all I can do, if you would like, is tell you what I observe.” Mr Darcy had nodded his head in response. Elizabeth then added, “I have never seen Janey receive a man’s attentions with as much pleasure as she does your friend’s.”
“I thank you Miss Elizabeth. If, no when, he asks for my advice, I will put what you have told me to good use.” With that Mr Darcy had bowed to her and walked away.
Elizabeth was snapped out of her reverie by the shrill sounds of her mother’s voice calling them down stairs so they could depart for Lucas Lodge.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Ever since the dinner at Haye Park, when, in nouncertain terms, Darcy had expressed his displeasure at Miss Bingley attaching herself to his arm when he had not offered it to her, she had been in a snit. It seemed she waspunishinghim by not speaking to him, but rather sniffing disdainfully each time she saw him. If the woman had had even the slightest inkling how happy her ignoring him made him feel, she would have been even unhappier than she was currently.
If she was aware he was developing tender feelings for one Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Darcy had no doubt the shrew would expire from an apoplexy.
