Caroline Bingley was at her wits’ end. After Mr Darcy had been so rude to her at that speck of an estate the Gouldings owned, she had been sure her refusing to speak to him and share her pearls of wisdom with him would have caused him to apologise to her. But he had not.
Rather than be upset being denied her much sought after company, he seemed sanguine with it. She was sure he was only increasing her anticipation, and would soon offer for her, as she had planned since the day Charles had introduced her to the friend he had met while at the University of Cambridge. As it seemed ignoring him was not having the desired effect, she would try something new at the Lucas’ hovel. If only Charles would not accept every invitation from the country nobodies who lived in this benighted, backwater part of the realm, then she would have more time at Netherfield Park to convince Mr Darcy of her worth as his ideal wife.
When she had bemoaned the situation to her older sister, Louisa had assured Caroline it was only a matter of time before Mr Darcy offered for her. As far as the things he had said which could be construed as negative, Louisa had agreed it was his bad mood at being stuck with all of the lowborn people in the area, and was not aimed at her younger sister.
They had discussed the problem of Charles paying so much attention to Jane Bennet. They agreed she was a sweetgirl, but as Caroline had decided only Miss Darcy would do as her brother’s wife, it had been resolved the sisters would discover as much negative information about the Bennets as possible, to make sure Charles left this angel behind as he had all of the previous ones.
Having heard Mr Darcy’s opinion on arriving fashionably late, Caroline made sure she was ready to depart at the time her brother had told her.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
When those from Netherfield Park arrived directly behind the Bennet carriage, given how late they had been at past events, it caused no little surprise among the Bennets.
Jane felt pleasure as it meant she would have more time in Mr Bingley’s company. The two arriving parties greeted their hosts and then as was their wont to do, Jane and Bingley found somewhere to sit where they could converse.
Elizabeth made her way to Charlotte who was standing close to some men in regimentals. She cringed when she heard Lydia squeal as soon as she spied the officers. “Who are the officers?” she asked her good friend. “I was not aware Sir William had friends in the army.”
“They are not connected to us in that fashion.” Charlotte cocked her head towards the eldest looking of the four men. “That is Colonel Forster who is in command of a regiment of the Derbyshire Militia. They are scouting for an area which will be suitable for an encampment, as the regiment will take up quarters in Meryton before the end of October.”
“And the captains and lieutenant?” Elizabeth enquired.
“The one closest to the Colonel is Captain Carter, next to him is Captain Saunderson, and the Lieutenant is Mr Denny,” Charlotte revealed. “Would you like to be introduced?”
“Please, before Lydia exposes herself. I want them to know there are some Bennets who behave with decorum,” Elizabeth declared.
Charlotte made the introductions. Soon enough, the Colonel asked what the best way to meet the leading families would be, to which Elizabeth suggested a dinner for the men, and later a ball. Colonel Forster took the suggestions under advisement. As the conversation was completed, Lydia, dragging Kitty, and Maria—the youngest Lucas—behind her came to make herself known to the officers. It was not long before Lieutenant Denny was being pulled with them to go meet some other locals.
Having noted Mr Darcy was close by while she had spoken to the Colonel, Elizabeth decided to tease the man based on his aversion to dancing. “Did you not think, Mr Darcy, that I expressed myself exceedingly well when I suggested the regiment have a ball when they arrive in Meryton?”
“Indeed you did, Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy acknowledged, “Then again, ladies are always animated when there is talk of a ball.”
The last thing she had expected was the dour man to tease her back. “You are very severe on my sex,” Elizabeth riposted with mock severity. “How will we have to punish you for this infraction?”
Across the room, the Bingley sisters had their heads together. “Louisa! Mr Darcy gives that Eliza Bennet chit far too much consequence. What am I to do?” Miss Bingley whined.
“When he is alone go speak to him and dazzle him with your education and class,” Mrs Hurst suggested. Miss Bingley nodded her agreement. The Bingley sisters watched as Miss Lucas joined the conversation between Mr Darcy and the impertinent Eliza Bennet.
“It is your turn to be teased now, Eliza,” Charlotte claimed, “it is time for me to open the instrument and for you to exhibit.”
“Some friend you are, always pushing me to play and sing, especially before such company who, I am sure, are usedto hearing the best society has to offer. As you know my talents are mediocre at best. You know how I fudge my way through some of the more complex fingering. It will be a trial for them to hear me after listening to such paragons of talent in Town,” Elizabeth claimed.
“Do not imagine, Eliza Rose Bennet, that I will recede on so flimsy an excuse. We both know your playing is a pleasure to hear. Besides, my father had expressed his wish to hear you play and sing, and you would not want to disappoint him, would you?” Charlotte pushed.
Elizabeth shook her head. Her friend had played the trump card. “Very well, lead the way, dear Charlotte,” she capitulated.
Soon enough Charlotte opened the upright pianoforte, and except for the Bennet matron, her two youngest daughters, and the Bingley sisters, the room quieted as the player was accorded the respect of most in the room when she began to play.
Darcy had to agree with her self-assessment. Miss Elizabeth was not the most technically proficient performer he had heard, nothing like Giana. However, due to the way she infused feeling into the music, he had heard nothing which had enchanted him more. As he stood and listened he heard the rustle of skirts next to him and then his hand and arm were grasped possessively. His peace with regards to Miss Bingley was over.
He looked at her hand gripping his arm, and then lifted his eyes to her, and Miss Bingley did not miss the message in the scathing look. She removed her hand from his arm as if it had been scalded by boiling water. To make sure she did not take it again, Darcy placed his arms behind his back, his hands gripped together very firmly.
“It is obvious Miss Eliza has not been trained on the instrument as I have been,” Miss Bingley purred close toDarcy’s ear.
“Yet, other than my sister, I cannot think of ever enjoying the playing of another more,” Darcy stated evenly. He ignored the pinched look Miss Bingley sported at his statement, almost like she was sucking a sour lemon.
Not wanting to give him reason to compliment the chit again, Miss Bingley decided to change tack. “I can guess the subject of your reverie.”
“I should imagine not,” Darcy replied disinterestedly.
