Usually,Darcy thought, reflecting grimly on Miss Bingley’s less than superior company. He was used to her attention, but even by her standards, she was being absurdly obsequious this evening.
“You would have liked it there, I think, Miss Darcy,” Bingley said, apparently indifferent to his sister’s attempt to redirect the conversation. “There were several young ladies of your age.”
“Yes, all wild and ill-bred,” Miss Bingley added.
“No, indeed, not all!” her brother objected.
“Most of them were, you must admit,” Hurst put in. “Never have I witnessed such a raucous gaggle as overran the card room after supper that night.”
“They were lively, to be sure,” Bingley argued, “but who wants a ball without a bit of liveliness? Apart from Darcy, maybe.”
Darcy did not rise to that challenge. He was watching his sister, who was growing observably more uneasy with every passing moment. He did not wonder at it. She was under strict instructions not to mention Meryton—or, more particularly, Anne’s jaunt there—and was no doubt fretting over how she might evade the subject now that it had been broached. He felt somewhat guilty for having overemphasised it so, but Bingley would almost certainly take Anne’s presence there as reason to go back. And since returning and reuniting with Miss Bennet would be seriously detrimental to his friend’s prospects, Darcy meant to do all he could to keep Bingley away.
“On the contrary,” he said. “The only thing worse than an excessively lively ball is an excessively dull one.”
“Oh certainly,” Miss Bingley said. “One ought to be able to have fun at a dance. I should find no pleasure in sitting about, philosophising all evening.”
Darcy stared at her fully sensible, even if she was not, that she had said precisely the opposite at Netherfield when they were planning the wretched ball. Would that she grow a mind of her own!
“Have you heard Lord Liverpool’s latest idea?” he said to Hurst, deliberately taking the conversation where he hoped Miss Bingley would not follow.
“No politics, Darcy, I beg you!” cried Bingley before Hurst had a chance to swallow his mouthful of wine.
“Come, Charles, can we not discuss anything more serious than dancing? I think it admirable that Mr Darcy keeps abreast of such matters,” Miss Bingley simpered.
Darcy took a gulp of his own wine to prevent snarling with vexation. Was there nothing he could say that she would not advocate? “There is a new turnpike road being built at Evesham. They plan to set the toll for a chaise-and-four at a shilling.”
Bingley raised an eyebrow. “You are a veritable spark in a powder keg this evening, Darcy. First, politics, now roads. What will it be next—taxes?”
“Politics and roads are both matters of great importance to landowners,” Miss Bingley told him. “You really ought not to ridicule that which you do not understand.”
Darcy reviled the ingratiating look she tossed his way. “It could be considered a worse evil to ridicule a want of understanding,” he said stonily.
Miss Bingley gave a nervous laugh. “I beg your pardon?”
“You accused Bingley of ridiculing me to disguise his ignorance, but a disinclination to discuss something does not equate to mockery.”
“Well no, but I think we all know he was implying that you were being dull.”
“Iwasbeing dull.”
“No sir!” she cried, leaping to his defence, where she was clearly most comfortable. “You were only making conversation, and that shows good manners.” She turned to address her sister, but Darcy, unsatisfied, pressed on.
“But if I chose to discuss something of which, as you say, my companions were ignorant, does that not make meill-mannered?”
She exchanged an uneasy look with Mrs Hurst before answering hesitantly. “I suppose, if it was your purpose to expose Charles’s ignorance, then yes, but you will not convince me there was any such intention in what you did.”
“But if thathadbeen my design?”
Her brow furrowed, and she gave a tight smile. “You will not make me accuse you of meanness, Mr Darcy.”
“Didyou do it on purpose?” Bingley enquired.
“That is irrelevant. I am merely trying to establish whether it is discourteous to initiate a conversation without giving due consideration to the preferences and abilities of one’s company.”
“Much as you are now?”
“What?”
