The little dig about Miss Elizabeth and Darcy’s comment about her eyes had also been absent from her conversation in recent months. Before they left Netherfield, it had been a common remark, obviously designed to induce him to recant his original observation. That it had failed did not seem to cross her mind. Now that she had spoken of Miss Elizabeth again, Darcy thought she deserved a little tweaking on the subject.
“I cannot say that I have pined for a Bennet sister,” said Darcy, reflecting that the statement was true to an extent—regret was a more accurate description of his recent ruminations. He had yet to descend to longing. “Perhaps I did not mention it, but I was inMiss Elizabeth Bennet’s company not one month ago.”
The way Miss Bingley’s eyes shot to him, the expression of utter stupefaction adorning her features, was beyond satisfying. “You returned to Hertfordshire?”
The demand—for such it was—the woman spoke in a voice louder than she intended. Bingley glanced at them, and Mrs. Hurst, who was closer, regarded them with something akin to worry. Fortunately for Miss Bingley, her brother had not heard what she said, for he shrugged and returned to conversing with Georgiana. Miss Bingley realized she had almost drawn his attention to that which she most wished to avoid. That did not mean she would remain silent on the matter.
“I am all astonishment, Mr. Darcy,” said she in a low voice, with an edge he had not heard from herdirected at him. “That you would seek Miss Elizabeth out again is beyond my comprehension.”
“I offer my apologies, Miss Bingley, for it appears I misled you. I did not return to Hertfordshire, except to pass through when returning from Pemberley.”
Miss Bingley regarded him, uncertainty replacing horror. “Then you came across her in London?” Again, the woman snorted her disdain. “No doubt she came here for that purpose and put herself forward most brazenly. It is little more than I might have expected ofher family.”
“Again, you are mistaken,” replied Darcy. Disinclined though he was to allow even this much disdain for a woman who did not deserve it, he ignored it and continued to speak, knowing he had provoked this conversation. “It was in Kent when I visited my aunt.”
“Kent?” echoed Miss Bingley. “Whatever could Miss Eliza Bennet be doing in Kent?”
“Do you recall Mr. Collins, the Bennets’ cousin?”
A truly unpleasant smirk rolled over Miss Bingley’s face.“Then shedidmarry him? Howfortunatefor her.”
“No, she is not Mrs. Collins,” said Darcy, by now enjoying the ability to pierce her conviction and deflate her vanity. “Mr. Collins married Miss Elizabeth’s close friend, Miss Charlotte Lucas. Miss Elizabeth and Mrs. Collins’s younger sister were visiting the parsonage when I attended my aunt.”
“No doubt planned to coincide with your visit.”
No, Miss Bingley,thought Darcy,Miss Elizabeth is notyou, after all.
Aloud, Darcy only said: “Mrs. Collins extended the invitation soon after becoming engaged, I believe.”
“Well, that is truly unfortunate for her, though I suppose herfriendmust rejoice in her success.” Miss Bingley took on an airy unconcern as if her words were of no importance. “Mr. Collins was, of course, her only chance to ever receive a proposal of marriage, for she has little fortune, no connections, her accomplishments are at best rudimentary, and she has a most unsettling air about her, akin to a bluestocking though with no knowledge of the world. I would pity her for her situation if I did not think her the most reprehensible creature in the world.”
Amusement turning to fury in an instant, Darcy decided he had enough of this woman’s petty barbs. Without another word, he turned to his sister.
“The hour is late, my dear. I believe it is time we returned to our home.”
Georgiana agreed at once, as he had known she would, and soon the Darcys farewelled their hosts. As they were leaving, Darcy noted Miss Bingley watching him with a look that bespoke calculation. Darcy cared nothing for her opinion. At that moment, he determined he would endeavor to be in her company but little from that time forward, would not invite the Bingleys to dine, would not accept invitations from them. Bingley would understand. They could meet in other venues,and Darcy considered any intimate activities with his family to be a trial, anyway. He would not endure Miss Bingley any longer.
Chapter II
More of what happened that first day ensued in the following days after Elizabeth’s return from Kent. No conversation at Longbourn did not consist of the officers’ imminent departure, lamentations concerning the cruel fate that awaited the youngest Bennets, and reproaches to their father for being so perverse as to break their hearts asunder with no consideration for their tender feelings. To say that Mr. Bennet was unaffected by their histrionics was a rather enormous understatement.
“Yes, yes,” said Mr. Bennet more than once in those days. “You shall miss the officers cruelly, and they shall find themselves bereft of your company. As you have informed us of all such catastrophes without cessation every waking moment since the announcement, I believe we all enjoy an excellent understanding of the disappointment you face.
“As I and your mother informed you repeatedly, we shallnotgo to Brighton. The fact of the matter, Lydia, is that there is no money for such an endeavor, even if I had any interest at all in the scheme. As such, you must simply nurse your bruised feelings as best you can, and hopefully in silence.”
Mr. Bennet directed a critical look at his youngest daughters. “That last is, I suppose, too much to expect. Perhaps I would do better to hire a companion, for you both require guidance to successfully move in society. You cannot become many degrees worse than you are.”
“I do not require a companion!” declared Lydia. “I require only the company of the officers. Why, I have been out these past nine months—do you not suppose I know how to behave?”
“You arenotout, Lydia,” said their father firmly. “If you recall,your mother petitioned me to allow you to attend events with Kitty when she came out; she argued that Kitty joining us would leave you at home alone. In Meryton, we allow you a certain measure of freedom to take part in certain events, but you are mostdefinitelynot out. Unless I misjudge the matter, I suspect your mother, for one, now regrets allowing you even that much indulgence.”
The look with which Mrs. Bennet regarded her youngest—exasperation mixed with censure—informed even one so wrapped up in her concerns as Lydia that it would be best to remain silent. For a wonder, the girl did, though she did not spare them a huff of annoyance and her glowers at them all. At least she was silent for a time, which none of them counted as a loss.
Elizabeth soon had other matters to occupy her attention, though Lydia continued to complain whenever the opportunity presented itself. While Mrs. Bennet was not so gauche as to lament Elizabeth’s perverse rejection of Mr. Collins’s suit now months after the event, Elizabeth’s accounts of the Collinses’ life and her doings there put her in a morose frame of mind, rendering her unfit for company. For several days, she stayed in her room except for mealtimes. Elizabeth, who had looked at her mother’s recriminations with trepidation, understood with a certain level of philosophy that it was the best she could expect.
Therefore, in the following days, she occupied herself in Jane’s company, listening to her sister’s quietly spoken concerns for the future, and her understated regret at the loss of Mr. Bingley. Upon witnessing the state of Jane’s continued heartbreak, Elizabeth thought Jane had overcome it as well as anyone could expect. Should Mr. Bingley present himself again in Hertfordshire, Elizabeth thought her sister, who still harbored love in her heart for the gentleman, would welcome him as if no time had passed.
This, of course, led Elizabeth to consider Mr. Darcy and whether the gentleman would feel compelled to share his new understanding of the situation in Hertfordshire with his friend. At first, Elizabeth thought there was nothing less likely, for she could not suppose Mr. Darcy wished his friend to marry so unsuitable a woman as Jane Bennet, even if Elizabeth had opened his eyes to his mistake. Had the gentleman not proposed to Elizabeth herself, she would have believed him capable of it. The knowledge that he consideredhergood enough to become his wife rendered any thought he harbored similar feelings concerning his friend and Jane ridiculous.
