“I very much doubt that, Miss Bennet.” His eyes twinkled, as though at a private joke. Elizabeth smiled back, thinking with satisfaction that her expectations for any friends of the Darcys seemed fully justified.
She was soon to learn otherwise. While Mrs Hurst spoke to them politely enough, and Mr Hurst treated them with no more disinterest than he did every other person present, Miss Caroline Bingley was strikingly unlike her brother.
She approached Elizabeth with a smile that felt distinctly cold. “Why, Miss Bennet, what a pleasure to meet you. How delighted you must be to find yourself in London instead of a dreary little market town like Meryton! It was dreadfullydull when I stayed at Netherfield with my brother. Indeed, I congratulate you on your escape.”
Such insults, spoken with so patently insincere a smile, could not be otherwise than infuriating. Miss Bingley looked at her with a challenging glint in her eye, evidently anticipating her reply.
“I am very sorry to hear you did not enjoy the countryside, Miss Bingley,” Elizabeth replied, her tone as bland as she could make it. “I am very fond of it myself, for the fresh air, the open vistas, and the pleasure of living so quietly in nature. But then, London also has a great deal to recommend it.”
Miss Bingley looked rather annoyed that she had not taken the bait. The expression lasted for only a moment before it was wiped off her face as if it had never been, to be replaced by a superior smile.
“Indeed it does,” Miss Bingley replied. “Why, you have become acquainted with the Darcys here! That is a piece of luck indeed.” She glanced around, as though not wishing to be overheard. “Do you not think Mr Darcy prodigiously handsome?”
Elizabeth was forced to suppress a laugh, for Miss Bingley had carefully pitched her voice so that it would carry to their host, while still pretending to be a whisper. It was evident Mr Darcy had overheard, for he looked little short of mortified. Poor man — his eyes had gone to her, as though dreading her answer. Likely he sympathised with the difficult position she found herself in, for it was obviously impossible either to agree with Miss Bingley or to contradict her, and to deliberately speak below his hearing would almost be worse.
But Elizabeth was not at a loss. “Mr Darcy is a very pleasant acquaintance,” she replied, making no pretence of lowering her voice. “Indeed, I am always glad to meet so sensible and well-informed a man.”
“Sensible! Well-informed!” Miss Bingley said in her pretended whisper. “Do you not think, Miss Bennet, that this is too little praise for so excellent a man? I am sure you must be more impressed than you wish to admit. CertainlyIcould not speak of Mr Darcy so coolly.”
To Elizabeth’s utter lack of surprise, Mr Darcy could take no more of this. He cleared his throat and put an end to their ‘private’ conversation by suggesting they all convene around the hearth and get better acquainted until supper was served.
Elizabeth agreed with alacrity, for she had no more desire to continue speaking with Miss Bingley than he could have to listen to such embarrassing public flattery. She moved toward the fire gladly, for it had been chilly coming in from the drizzling rain. Thankfully, she had not got her hem wet, as she so often had during walks about the countryside. The streets of London had the advantage of being paved with cobblestones, at least in the wealthier sections of Town. However, Elizabeth would have traded the noise, vapours, and smog in a heartbeat for the quiet, solitude, and fresh country air.
“Mr Bingley has recently let the Netherfield estate,” Mr Darcy said as they gathered around the fire. “Am I correct in thinking it is near your family’s home?”
“It is,” Elizabeth replied. “It is not three miles from my childhood home of Longbourn, and closer still to the cottage my mother now rents.”
He looked a little ill at ease, as though fearing she might suffer in discussing the topic, and Elizabeth gave him a warm smile to indicate that she had no wish to avoid it.
As Elizabeth looked away from him to speak more generally in the group, she was startled by Miss Bingley’s expression. Elizabeth stifled a gasp, for she looked almost vicious.
Given her obvious interest in Mr Darcy, Miss Bingley’s distaste for her must be based in jealousy, strange as the thought was. Did she think Elizabeth had designs on Mr Darcy? How ludicrous! Admirable as Mr Darcy was, there could be no possibility of a deeper relationship between them. It was only Miss Bingley’s own overactive ambition that made her imagine it.
The lapse in Miss Bingley’s mask did not last long. She soon approached Mr Darcy with a charming smile. “I must say, it has been naughty of you to leave us so without company after returning to London. But I suppose you have many matters of business to attend to. You are always so attentive to your tenants and business partners.”
“To the best of my ability,” Mr Darcy said shortly.
“We were all of us together before Christmas,” Miss Bingley said, turning to Elizabeth with smug triumph, as though to point out her greater claim. “We are thinking of returning there come springtime. You must join us, Mr Darcy. And bring dear Georgiana this time, of course. She has not seen the house yet.”
“I am surprised by your eagerness to return, Miss Bingley,” Mr Darcy replied. “Did you not say you found Hertfordshire rather dull?”
For a moment, Miss Bingley seemed quite at a loss, but she recovered quickly. “It shall not be dull at all if you will visit us, Mr Darcy!”
Elizabeth stifled a laugh, for by Miss Bingley’s own telling, Mr Darcy had also been present during her previous ‘dull’ visit to Hertfordshire. At that juncture, supper was announced, and they all went through to the dining room.
It was a most pleasant room, with its restraint and real comfort still more notable than its luxury. Everything was of the finest quality, and yet quite free of ostentation. With the exception of a large display of hothouse flowers, it might almost have been one of her mother’s suppers at Longbourn, though conducted with more servants and considerably more elegance.
The conversation at supper seemed likely to be equally pleasant, for Elizabeth was between Miss Darcy and Mr Bingley, and comfortably away from Miss Bingley.
Mr Bingley lost no time in making himself agreeable. “Do you have sufficient occasion to leave London and visit your family in Hertfordshire, Miss Bennet?”
“I have not in recent months. I have been busy helping my aunt and uncle with my young cousins,” Elizabeth explained. It was unfortunate that she must prevaricate, and yet at least it was not entirely a lie. She had indeed helped with her young cousins, if only in the intervals between writing.
“You must miss your home very much,” Mr Bingley continued earnestly. “I have not had the pleasure of meeting your family, but I have become acquainted with the Lucases. How friendly Sir William is! He made us quite at home in the neighbourhood. And Lady Lucas speaks most highly of your family.”
“I am delighted to hear it,” Elizabeth told him. “The Lucases are very kind neighbours, to be sure. Lady Lucas and my mother have been friends for many years.”
“And how do you find London?” Mr Bingley asked.
