"Oh, yes, it certainly could."
"And she might have thought she could catch him by allowing liberties."
"No, I shan't believe it."
"But she did allow him liberties! I saw it with my own eyes."
"Yes, but surely it was just the once. Surely it was all Mr. Darcy. Surely poor Miss Elizabeth didn't know what she was about."
"Of all the words that might be used to describe Elizabeth Bennet 'unwitting' isn't one of them."
"Yes, she is a clever girl. And everyone knows how badly the Bennets need at least one of their girls to make an advantageous match."
"I did think it was an uncharacteristically foolish thing for her to do, getting caught like that. And though Mr. Darcy is certainly a horrid, haughty gentleman he did not really seem like a libertine."
"No, indeed. He struck me as rather puritanical actually."
"Perhaps. . . ." Mrs. Long trailed off and this time Mrs. Goulding did not prompt her to continue. She did not need to, for I am sure they were both thinking the same thing. In the course of a five minute conversation I had gone from being the victim of a wicked despoiler of innocents to a mercenary temptress.
"Is that Mrs. Phillips I see?" asked Mrs. Goulding, presumably spotting my aunt from the tearoom's front window.
"I do believe it is. Oh, I would so like to speak with her. She must know what is to be done with Miss Elizabeth now that Mr. Darcy has run off. But I suppose it would be far too ghoulish to ask her."
"It would, however, be appropriate to condole with her about the tragedy that has befallen her nieces."
The words had barely left Mrs. Goulding's lips before I heard the scraping of chairs followed by the cheerful chime of the bell. Cautiously I peeked over my shoulder. Yes, indeed, there they went, chasing my Aunt Phillips down High Street.
"I am pleased to hear my affair with Mr. Darcy was of some duration. It would be a disappointment if all our imagined passion amounted to was a ripped bodice and a ruined reputation. Not to mention it would make me a rather poor seductress if I had been four days in the same house as my intended victim and he had failed to succumb to my feminine wiles. Oh, yes, I am certainly glad of all those goings on at Netherfield during Jane's illness."
"Eliza, how can you jest?" Charlotte scolded in reply to my playful remark.
"I am not ignorant of the severity of my situation, however I must make light of it lest I fall apart completely."
Her expression softened. "What happened at the Netherfield ball?"
"Goodness, Miss Lucas, have not you heard? Miss Elizabeth was foundin flagrante delictowith Mr. Darcy," I replied, doing what I thought was a quite accurate impersonation of Mrs. Long. Charlotte however did not even grant me a pity chuckle, she just stared at me with an exasperated mien.
"I did something very foolish."
"I had gathered that much," Charlotte observed dryly after it became clear I would speak no more without further persuasion.
She continued to stare at me expectantly. I knew my reluctance must seem strange to her. One would think I would be bursting to tell my side of the story, yet I would have rather listened to Mr. Collins read a monotonous sermon than tell my tale. I did not like to be made to face my mistake. I had always thought myself clever and it was a bit of a disappointment to find after twenty years that I was actually perfectly stupid.
"You know how vexed I was that evening. Mr. Collins would not let me out of his sight—if manacles could have been found the man would have had us fastened together in a trice—and Mama . . . was being Mama, no word of caution from me could check her exuberance.
"I was anxious for the night to be over lest my family expose themselves to any more ridicule than they already had which only vexed me more. It seemed simply absurd to be wishing for the end of a ball I had so looked forward to attending and I thought if I could find a moment alone to settle myself I might be able to enjoy the rest of the evening. So I slipped away from Mr. Collins and went to the library. Unfortunately I found Mr. Darcy there."
I had not realized the room was occupied when I entered it. A lamp was lit, which I thought strange, but it did not prevent me from idly touring the shelves. I did not notice Mr. Darcy until I was upon him. He sat near the hearth, reading by the light of the fire. He was so engrossed in his book he had apparently not heard me wandering about the room. I released a startled gasp and he rose, wearing a look of surprise to echo my own.
He made a slight bow and then said, "I dare not think of how this shall effect your sketch of my character, Miss Elizabeth—finding me here alone when I ought to be enjoying the ball. Though I believe you have already counted my unsociable nature among my most egregious defects so perhaps this discovery will not alter your project at all." He spoke pleasantly, almost teasingly in complete contrast to the stiff manner in which he usually addressed me.
"Unsociability is hardly a defect at all when compared to arrogance, conceit, and jealousy," I said unthinkingly, shocking myself. Had the words been delivered in the arch tone I often employed they would have still been dangerously censorious, but perhaps blunted enough by charm to avoid raising his ire, however I was tired and vexed and my delivery was harsh.
Mr. Darcy flinched and then smiled coldly. "Ah, I see you are ready to present the final portrait. Oddly I suspect the artist's signature is not your own. I had hoped, with further reflection, you would see through Mr. Wickham's superficial charm, but perhaps I gave your intellect greater credit than it was due."
It was my turn to flinch, but I would not allow him to see that his remark had wounded me. "Miss Bingley hinted earlier that you have something to accuse Mr. Wickham of, though she did not know the particulars. I have heard his account of things, perhaps I might hear yours."
"Unlike Mr. Wickham I do not speak of my private concerns to all who will listen."
