“Byrectify, may I assume you meanleave?”
Darcy returned his cup to its saucer and spoke with studied composure, lest anyone else hear. “Madam, I was wrong about Miss Bennet with regards to both her feelings and her suitability, and I did your brother a disservice in advising him to forget her. I have made it clear that I will no longer involve myself in his private affairs unless it is his explicit wish. Whatever plans he makes, he will make them without my interference.”
Regrettably. Given the choice, he would have counselled Bingley into action days ago, and they would both be celebrating something more than Epiphany at dinner that evening.
Miss Bingley peered at him questioningly. “You have always been good to him. I trust you will see him safely through this latest calamity, as you have seen him through all his previous ones.”
It was not a question, and Darcy gave no reply.
“Speaking of calamities,” she continued with an affected laugh, “I hear you were obliged to spend Christmas Day with the Bennets. Whatmustthat have been like? I dread to think!”
“That explains why you do it so infrequently.”
Darcy’s tea had gone distinctly tepid. He sipped it anyway and pretended not to have heard Anne’s remark. Miss Bingley was doing the same, if her tight smile was any indication.
“We were made exceedingly welcome at Longbourn,” he told her.
“Oh yes,” Anne agreed, tenaciously inserting herself into their conversation. “It was a most enjoyable, most festive occasion. And Mrs Bennet’s Christmas dinner was exceptional.”
Darcy turned to level an incredulous glare at her that she did not deign to acknowledge.
“How nice for you, Miss de Bourgh,” Miss Bingley replied, likewise turning to face her. “We had an enjoyable Christmas arranged ourselves, it being the first that Mr and Miss Darcy had agreed to spend with us. In the event, the day was quieter than expected, for half our company was required to rush off to Hertfordshire at the last moment.”
“That must have been terribly disappointing. I expect you thought you were on the cusp as well. And now, all those years of planning gone to waste,” said Anne.
“Hardlyyears, madam. A Christmas dinner can be planned in less than a week unless one is doing somethingverywrong.”
“Christmas dinner? I beg your pardon. I thought we were talking about something else entirely.”
“I am sorry our departure ruined your Christmas, Miss Bingley,” Georgiana said meekly, her own conversation apparently over, her attention no doubt drawn to this one by Anne’s dogged taunting. “I was eager to see my brother, but I ought to have considered?—”
“Fie, do not let my sister make you feel bad,” interposed Bingley, similarly interrupted from his chat with Hurst. “We offered to bring everyone with us.”
“Pray do not feel bad atall,” Miss Bingley cooed at Georgiana. “Ofcourseyou wished that your brother would not be alone at Christmas, just as your brother sacrificed his own happy Christmas to ensure that your cousin would not be onherown. You are both so very good, always thinking of others. Of course, I was obliged to remain with Louisa, so that when Mr Hurst inevitably drank himself to sleep, shewould not be alone.”
“Caroline, if you mean to makemefeel bad, you will not succeed,” said Bingley. “I was not about to stay in town and let Darcy have all the fun here without me.”
“Really, Charles! Mr Darcy is a more rational creature than that implies. He does not chase about the country in pursuit offun.”
That might be true, but Darcy had nevertheless found it in the wilderness surrounding Longbourn yesterday. He turned back to the window to prevent anybody from guessing where his thoughts had gone and revelled in the memory of Elizabeth’s gratifyingly passionate embrace. His reflections were entirely ruined when Miss Bingley stepped closer to him once again and spoke in a voice he presumed she thought alluring.
“Charles has an odd notion of what passes for entertainment. Perhaps you will allow me to delight you later this evening with the piece I was planning to play for you on Christmas Day.”
“My tea has gone cold, madam. Pray excuse me.”
* * *
Elizabeth was heartened by how rapidly Darcy came to her side upon her arrival at Netherfield. His evident pleasure in her company pleased her very well, though such was his determination to remain near her that she began to worry others might become suspicious. The thought was immediately followed by a rush of vexation. Would that there were no need for secrecy!
She observed Jane and Mr Bingley, hoping for an indication they might soon advance their understanding, but there was no hint of an imminent betrothal. For the first time in her memory, Elizabeth was displeased by her sister’s composure of temper for, though obviously content in one another’s company, Jane and Mr Bingley could as easily be discussing what was for dinner as declaring their eternal affection for one another.
She accepted a glass of wine from a footman and took a larger than advisable sip to quell her vexation. The idea to spare Jane’s feelings had seemed noble and just when she thought of it, for Darcy’s impetuous and quixotic proposal had given undesirable contrast to Mr Bingley’s inconstant, lackadaisical attentions. In the face of her sister’s glacial courtship, such generosity was losing its appeal.
Darcy, she knew, loathed the concealment even more than she, and it was not long before she comprehended there would be at least one very immediate benefit from him sharing the news soon. Until their engagement was made public, he would not be able to escape Miss Bingley’s jealous attentions, which had apparently not diminished since the autumn.
“Miss Eliza,” she said at a point early in the evening. “How delightful to see you looking so…” She left the remark unfinished, ending it instead with a disdainful appraisal of Elizabeth’s person.
“How delightful to see you at all, Miss Bingley,” Elizabeth replied. “You wrote in your letter to Jane that you would be staying in London for the whole winter.”
