The curtain went up on stage just as the door to the corridor closed behind Darcy, preventing ordinary conversation. Nevertheless, Elizabeth and her aunt immediately struck up a fervid whispered exchange that Bingley strained to hear despite himself. He could not make out Elizabeth’s opening remark, what with her back to him, only Mrs Gardiner’s response.
“I am sure it is not intentional. He must be excessively uneasy.”
Though he still could not hear her words, the agitation in Elizabeth’s voice as she replied was unmistakable.
“You forget what deference he is used to,” her aunt replied. “You may be able to shrug it off without another thought, but you are being unfair to expect a man of his consequence to do the same. Rest assured, your uncle and I are not offended.”
Frustrated at not being able to hear Elizabeth’s responses, Bingley resorted to pretending to refasten his shoe, bringing him within earshot in time to hear her reply emphatically thatshewas.
He sat up again, heart hammering with dismay. Elizabeth and her aunt looked around, and for a moment, he thought his eavesdropping had been discovered until he heard Darcy say behind him that the carriage had been summoned and realised it was at him the ladies were looking. He let out his breath and eased back into his chair, regarding the Titan sidelong while Elizabeth bid her relations good evening. There he stood, caught up in the injury to his consequence, impervious to the fact that Elizabeth suffered not only the scorn of the entire theatre, but that of her husband as well, and with a darned sight more forbearance than he!
Bingley scarcely wondered at Elizabeth’s resolute composure. No doubt were she to reveal aught of her own misery, Darcy would “take her in hand” as he had, only yesterday, suggestedhedo with Jane. He launched himself to his feet to speak, but it achieved him naught. Elizabeth was done bidding her relatives goodbye, and after a cursory farewell to him, she and Darcy were gone.
Elizabeth held Darcy’s arm for the sake of appearances only, beyond caring for the tension in it that evinced his displeasure. Barring a curt instruction to his coachmen, he maintained an obstinate silence from the moment they left the box to the moment he stiffly handed her up into the carriage. She afforded him the same courtesy for the remainder of the journey home.
The consequence of her silence was the escalation of her indignation, as her mind substituted conversation with seething. She cared not what the rest of the world wished to say about her. She had told Darcy over and again she would be unmoved by any such disapprobation. But his petulant and public brooding over it, his unpardonableincivility to her relations, and her suspicion of Lady Catherine’s influence in all of it had reduced her patience for his present ill-humour to a resounding nil.
Godfrey met them at the front door, enquiring with a well-trained blind eye to their early return whether they should like supper to be served directly.
“I have no appetite,” Elizabeth said. Leaving Darcy to answer for himself, she took her leave and stormed upstairs to her bedchamber. She was unsurprised when her door clicked open again moments after she slammed it closed. She finished peeling off her gloves, dropped them onto her dressing table and turned to face her husband, all defiance.
“Elizabeth, are you unwell?”
It was not how she expected him to begin. “Unwell?”
“Yes, unwell,” he snapped. “You have claimed a headache and no appetite. These are common symptoms of illness, are they not?”
“I daresay. They are also common symptoms of serious vexation.”
His evident surprise exasperated her no end, provoking her to give poor Baker short shrift when she arrived, expecting to help her mistress undress. “How could it possibly come as a surprise that I am vexed?” she demanded of him once the maid had been unceremoniously dismissed. “Did you expect me toenjoyyour incivility this evening?”
He frowned and looked aside, his jaw clenched. Elizabeth crossed her arms and awaited his answer, declaring with her silence that she required one.
“I was not aware my distraction was obvious,” he said at length.
“It is not as though you made any endeavour to conceal it! You have sulked the entire evening!”
“I have not sulked.”
“Call it what you will,” she replied, beginning to tug pins from her hair and toss them forcibly onto her dressing table, “but you barely spoke two words together the whole night, you ignored my aunt and uncle, and you flinched every time I so much as touched you! I call that sulking.”
“I apologise if I was not as attentive as you would have liked, madam, but my mind has been less agreeably engaged.”
“You have suffered no more than I—less, I should say! Most of therumours were about me, after all, and I have not hurled my rattle from the crib for the whole of London to see!”
“What rumours?”
No two words could have more effectively doused her anger. She lowered her hands and stared at him. “What do you meanwhat rumours?”
“I mean precisely what I said! I have no idea to what you are referring.”
“I am referring to all the hostile attention we received this evening.”
He only stared at her, nonplussed, prompting her to press, “Are you telling me you were not aware of any of it?”
“I am sorry to say it escaped my notice,” he replied, frowning. “What was said?”
“Nothing of substance—but much of it.”
