Miss Mary turned to her father, telling him the good news. When Darcy looked across the table, he saw Elizabeth watching him. She mouthed a silent “thank you” and gave him a stunning smile. His heart lurched, and Darcy wondered if he really could be falling in love with his fiancée.
Miss Mary returned her attention to him a moment later, and she spoke so animatedly throughout the rest of the dinner, asking questions of him and Georgiana, of the estate and their upbringing, that she seemed almost a different person. Without the sour expression and ill-timed remarks that had previously characterised her society, Miss Mary was a very pleasant dining companion. Perhaps all she had needed to bloom was to be paid a bit more attention.
When dinner came to an end, Miss Bingley called for the ladies to join her in the parlour. Darcy and Bingley exchanged a quick glance. Wordlessly, the two friends agreed to take their after-dinner drinks rather quickly and rejoin the ladies as quickly as possible — before Miss Bingley could do too much damage.
Yet the surprises of the evening were not done. As the ladies were walking out, Miss Mary joined Miss Bingley at the door. “Would you grace us with a song or two on the pianoforte, Miss Bingley? I hear that you study with an Italian master in London.”
Darcy raised an eyebrow. Here was an improvement indeed. Instead of Miss Mary going straight to the instrument to showcase her skills, she deferred to another. And while Darcy had no particular interest in hearing Miss Bingley on the pianoforte, perhaps Elizabeth might follow her. He hoped it would be so. While Elizabeth might not be a true proficient, she had a natural musicality and expressiveness he had heard equalled only in Georgiana. The short time before they might join the ladies would surely feel long.
Nor was there much satisfaction to be had in their companions, for Mr Hurst had begun an interminable monologue on the superiority of a ragout over a plain dish. Mr Bennet was listening to him and encouraging him with a crooked smile that amply showed his enjoyment in the absurdity, but Darcy had no wish to join the conversation. Thankfully, Mr Hurst’s loud lecture would at least give him the chance to speak without being overheard by the others. He turned instead to Bingley. “The evening is going well, don’t you agree?”
Bingley gave him a broad grin. “I do indeed. And do you not notice a change in the younger miss Bennets? Miss Lydia and Miss Kitty are much improved from the last time they graced this house with their presence.” Bingley took a sip of his port and set it aside.
“I agree,” Darcy said with a nod. He ought to have known that Bingley would have noticed the improvement. His friend chose not to comment on other’s flaws, but he was not oblivious. “And Miss Mary’s disposition seems much improved as well.”
“Indeed. She talked pleasantly through the whole of the meal, no mention of Mr Fordyce’s sermons at all.” Bingley gave a short laugh. “It is night and day to how she was before. I wonder what could be the cause of such a happy shift?”
Darcy preferred not to speak of the threat Elizabeth had enacted. He could only hope that once he and Elizabeth were married, Mr Bennet would guide the younger girls with a firm hand. As to Mary…
“She seemed happy to be spoken to and acknowledged,” Darcy remarked. Could it really have been so easy? “I suppose Miss Mary Bennet is sometimes a little overlooked. It cannot be easy to be the middle child of five daughters.”
“There is something to what you say,” Bingley acknowledged, raising his glass.
“Each of the other girls possesses distinguishing qualities. Miss Bennet is known as the beauty of the county. Miss Elizabeth has a quick wit and charming sense of humour. Miss Lydia is always gay and lively, as is Miss Kitty. But what does Miss Mary have? She seems to be quite neglected, due to her more serious and thoughtful personality.”
Bingley nodded, looking thoughtful. “Poor girl. It cannot be easy, having so large a family. Not to mention such beautiful older sisters.”
At that thought, both gentlemen glanced up at the clock on the mantle to see how many minutes had transpired. Only three.
They would have to wait at least ten to satisfy social etiquette. Darcy cleared his throat and prepared to sacrifice himself on the alter of social duty. “There is something to what you say, Mr Hurst, but do you not find that ragout can begin to feel rather heavy, if it is served too often?”
Mr Hurst snorted in dismissal. “By no means, sir, by no means. You do not do justice to your fine French cooks at Pemberley when you say so. And if made with truffles, they are all the better. I once had a ragout at my club…” Mr Hurst went on for some time about the merits of a sufficiently rich ragout, but Darcy could no longer bring himself to listen. Judging by the gleam of amusement in Mr Bennet’s eyes, at least someone was enjoying the lecture.
As the minute hand ticked over, Bingley tossed back the last of his drink, while Darcy set his down half-full. They went out to rejoin the ladies and saw that Miss Bingley was at the pianoforte. Miss Mary was dutifully listening and watching nearby, no doubt following her hands as they danced over the keys. For all Miss Bingley’s faults, no one could claim lack of skill as a performer was one of them.
As soon as Darcy came through, Elizabeth hurried to meet him. She placed a hand on his arm, ever so lightly. The gesture sent a thrill through his entire body as she leaned close and spoke in an undertone too low to be overheard. “I wanted to thank you for being so attentive to my sister during dinner.”
He smiled and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “I was very glad of the chance to get to know her better. To be honest, I was surprised by how pleasant I found our conversation.”
Elizabeth beamed at him, then looked over her shoulder to where her sister sat. “It is quite remarkable. It makes me think that she only needed to be acknowledged, to have her dreams and aspirations listened to.” She turned again to him, her eyes filled with gratitude. And perhaps something more… “I think you, Mr Darcy.”
“You are most welcome,” Darcy replied. He would traverse the Earth for her if only he could see that look in her eyes always.
When Darcy recalled Elizabeth was not the only person in the room, he looked up and saw that they were being watched by Elizabeth’s parents, as well as Miss Lydia. He reluctantly led her over to the hearth, and they settled on the settee beside each other to engage in the conversation.
“Well, Mr Darcy. Have you and Lizzy set a day for the grand affair?” Mrs Bennet asked when they had been seated.
Darcy looked at Elizabeth, but instead of seeing hesitation in her eyes, he saw only uncertainty. “Well —”
“It would not do to put it off too long, you know. Already it has been a few weeks since you became engaged,” Mrs Bennet said sweetly. “I have never believed in long engagements. Did you know Lizzy has picked out the material for her gown? It is already under construction.”
This came as a surprise to him. He looked over at his betrothed to see if it were true. Elizabeth’s cheeks were flushed, and she had turned away in embarrassment.
It was true, then.“I had not been informed, no. But I am pleased to hear of it.”
“Of course, it is not as fine as anything that could have been procured in London,” Mrs Bennet went on. “But if the wedding is to happen soon, I did not think it wise to travel to Town for the material.”
Darcy cleared his throat. “I believe that anything Miss Elizabeth wears will be most becoming.” It would be more accurate to say he was almost indifferent to what she would wear on their wedding day. As long as Elizabeth was pleased, it would be well enough. Beautiful and elegant as she was, it was not her appearance that took his breath away. It was her spirited nature, her quick wit and refined mind that had drawn him over their acquaintance. And it was her fortitude in the current crisis, the integrity and grace with which she carried herself, that had endeared her to him all the more.
