“Or perhaps your cousin, Mr Darcy?”
“Mr Darcy’s eyes are brown,” Elizabeth corrected him.
“How very observant, Miss Elizabeth,” said Miss de Bourgh, looking up at her. “Do you recall the eye colour of every man with whom you barely converse and dance with but once?”
Elizabeth, wholly unaware that she possessed this nugget of information until she said it, felt her cheeks redden. “Apparently.”
“Well, whatever colour his eyes are, Mr Darcy is amostestimable gentleman,” said Mr Collins, “and one of the most illustrious personages in the country.”
Elizabeth caught Jane’s gaze and rolled her eyes. Evidently, having failed to impress Miss de Bourgh with his attentions to her, Mr Collins meant to move on to eulogising about her relations instead. She doubted he would find the present company particularly receptive to such a scheme—a suspicion that was substantiated in the next moment by her mother.
“Mr Darcy does not evenlikethe country. He considers it nothing at all, in fact.”
“Come, come, Mrs Bennet,” cajoled Sir William. “That cannot be true. Mr Darcy has a house in the country the same as the rest of us.”
“It certainlyistrue,” she replied heatedly. “He told me himself that he considers the societyconstrained and unvarying, by which you can be sure he meant to disparage anyone who does not live at least half the year or more in town.”
Mrs Bennet was quite mistaken about the conversation in question, but Elizabeth felt no inclination to defend Mr Darcy until she noticed Charlotte’s discomfort. Following her friend’s gaze to Miss de Bourgh, she could easily discern that lady’s displeasure. It was hardly surprising, she supposed, that one might take offence at the censure of one’s relation and future husband, and so for Charlotte’s sake, she resolved to correct her mother’s misapprehension.
“You have quoted Mr Darcy out of context, Mama. That is not what he meant.”
“But itiswhat he said, and therefore, I shall take whatever meaning from it I choose.”
“Let us leave the gentlemen to their port,” Lady Lucas announced, coming to her feet abruptly and indicating to a footman to clear the table.
The ladies all duly filed out and busied themselves finding cups of coffee, talking partners, and places to sit in the drawing room. Elizabeth had assumed with some relief that was the end of any discussion about Mr Darcy. She soon discovered otherwise.
Charlotte cornered her at the refreshment table and, whilst maintaining a perfectly composed smile, began whispering in a decidedly uncomposed manner. “I mean no disrespect to your mother, Eliza, and I am very sorry if Mr Darcy was uncivil to her, but her words have angered Miss de Bourgh, and I know not what to do to put things right.”
Elizabeth dared not look at Miss de Bourgh, for it would too clearly mark her as the object of their discussion. She smiled innocuously into her coffee cup and enquired, “Has she said she is displeased?”
“No, but she has a face like thunder, and Mr Collins is beside himself that she has been offended.”
“Then I am very sorry, but if you are hoping my mother will apologise, I think I had better warn you it might be better to let the matter drop. She will only make it worse if you bring it up again.”
Charlotte shook her head. “I was hopingyouwould speak to Miss de Bourgh.”
“Me?”
“Yes. You said your mother quoted Mr Darcy out of context. I thought you could explain that she had misunderstood him.”
Elizabeth restrained herself to a quiet sigh before conceding. “Very well. But only because it is you.”
She reluctantly made her way to sit next to Miss de Bourgh. Elizabeth received no more than a cursory nod in greeting and sipped her coffee in silence as she attempted to fix on how to broach the subject.
“The dinner was very pleasant,” came a squeaky voice. Miss de Bourgh had not moved her lips, and Elizabeth looked around in bewilderment until Mrs Jenkinson made her presence known by leaning forward in her seat on the other side of Miss de Bourgh. “The lamb was cooked to perfection.”
Elizabeth smiled and nodded back. That appeared to be the extent of the lady’s contribution. She leant back in her seat, disappearing from view once more. Miss de Bourgh glowered ahead as though neither of them were there.
“I must apologise for my mother,” Elizabeth said quietly. “I assure you she quite mistook Mr Darcy’s meaning.”
“I doubt it.” At last, Miss de Bourgh turned to face Elizabeth, and Charlotte’s description of her countenance proved to be remarkably accurate. “It sounds just the sort of thing he would say. I scarcely blame your mother for being offended. Those of us who have little choice but to avoid London can do without the disdain of those with the luxury of going there whenever they choose.”
Surprise kept Elizabeth quiet too long, and Miss de Bourgh snapped, “I cannot imagine why you should be astonished at my saying so. It wasyouwho told me a woman ought not to be judged by the company she keeps or the places she visits.”
“That is true, I did. Though, if you will pardon me, it wasyouwho remarked on the disadvantage of my having spent so little time in London myself.”
“Do not fool yourself into believing it isnota disadvantage, Miss Elizabeth. It will certainly be viewed as such by any gentleman wishing to attach himself to you.”
