None seemed so at ease as Mr Darcy himself. Elizabeth had been astonished and astonished again at his demeanour thus far, for never had she seen him so animated. It had not previously been unusual, particularly in Kent, for him to go ten or twenty minutes complete without opening his lips. Of course, she had come to understand it was his feelings for her that kept him quiet then, but that made her gladder than ever for the chance to see him in his element.
Though too stately to be a contender for liveliest of the party, she yet found him the most engaging. He was interested in what everyone had to say, conversant on every subject, and by far the most frequently deferred to by all his friends. Indeed, with such a constant stream of applications for his opinion, his knowledge, and his approbation, it was easy to see how he had come to value his own judgment so highly—and harder to blame him for it.
Even so, Elizabeth perceived none of that old conceit in him this evening—only gentleness and good humour. Miss Bingley had once said to Jane, no doubt to demonstrate her familiarity with him, that Mr Darcy never spoke much unless among his intimate acquaintance. It provoked a strong sensation of warmth in Elizabeth’s breast to consider that, by implication, she might now think of herself as among Mr Darcy’s intimate acquaintance.
That feeling of warmth flared hotter each time their eyes met, and that was just about every time she looked at him; it seemed as though his gaze never left hers. She was almost relieved when it came time for the ladies to withdraw after dinner, for she was certain the suspicions of the whole party were awakened against them. Most of Mr Darcy’s friends had spent the evening looking as though they were attempting not to notice his preoccupation. Some had done a poorer job of disguising their interest, and a few had been overtly amused.
Elizabeth was not afraid for herself beyond a little discomfort, but for Mr Darcy she was exceedingly anxious. It was too soon to know whether the burgeoning esteem she felt for him would advance into affection, but she did feel a real concern for his welfare and abhorred the thought of exposing him to ridicule amongst his friends. It made her guarded in her responses to the other ladies, whose probing remarks were less than subtle, and was possibly what provoked Miss Bingley’s simmering jealousy into an outright attack.
“What a delightful evening we are having,” said Lady Garroway, a young lady of about Elizabeth’s own age. “I must say, when I met Mr Darcy in London earlier this year, he did not seem quite so amiable. Ihadworried he did not like me.”
Elizabeth could not help but laugh at that. “I comprehend your sentiment. Mr Darcy has a satirical eye.”
Miss Templeton gave Elizabeth a shrewd look. “I suppose that could be said of him, though it does not appear that much is displeasing him this evening.”
“He seems in an uncommonly good humour,” agreed Mrs Cox. She was a slightly older, slightly quieter member of the party, though no less friendly for it.
“I noticed no great difference in him,” Miss Bingley said tightly. “He is always excellent company.”
“Nobody is suggesting otherwise, dear. Do not be prickly. We are only saying that he seems more than usually complacent.” Miss Templeton patted her friend on the arm consolingly as she said this, though she continued looking pointedly at Elizabeth.
“He does,” agreed Mrs Cox. “However should we account for it?”
Their rather graceless insinuation was disarmed by their good-natured smiles, and Elizabeth replied in the same spirit. “I expect it is his being here. We are all more comfortable in our own homes, are we not?”
“I should certainly be comfortable if my home were as delightful as Pemberley,” Lady Garroway remarked.
“Oh yes! I forgot that your ladyship has not been before,” Mrs Cox replied.
To Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner, Lady Garroway explained, “Lord Garroway and I only married in the spring. He has known Mr Darcy for years, but this is my first visit to Pemberley. I thought his lordship’s house was impressive, but it is nothing to this. It is quite the grandest place I have ever stayed.”
Conscious of saying anything that might appear grasping, Elizabeth agreed that Pemberley was very handsome but did not elaborate. Her answer was evidently too ungenerous to satisfy Miss Bingley.
“It is Miss Bennet’s first visit, also. Pemberley is a good deal larger than Longbourn, is it not?”
“It is a good deal larger than most houses, Miss Bingley.”
“Is it true there are secret passages?” Lady Garroway enquired. “I heard there were.”
Miss Bingley gave a small, reluctant shrug, as though unhappy not to be an authority on the matter. “You would have to ask Mr Darcy. Or his sister.”
“What a shame Miss Darcy is not still here. She might have even shown us.”
Elizabeth, too, regretted that Miss Darcy had retired, but all three of the young ladies who were not yet out had been shepherded upstairs by Mrs Annesley after dinner. She had remarked to her aunt that she thought it an unnecessary formality, and they had both agreed on the violence of Lydia and Kitty’s protestations were they to be similarly banished.
“Has your ladyship looked into the family chapel yet?” Mrs Cox enquired. “It is definitely worth seeing.”
“I have not yet, but I must while I am here. His lordship raves about Pemberley’s stained glass.”
“I can show youthatif you like,” Miss Bingley offered.
“Oh do, Caroline,” said Mrs Hurst, giving her sister an encouraging nudge with her elbow.
“Would you?” Lady Garroway implored. “I should dearly like to see it. Would not you, Miss Bennet?”
Elizabeth would much rather see it with Mr Darcy. “Would it not be better to view the stained glass in the daylight?”
“Oh yes, I suppose it would.”
