‘This cannot be! This is but the first set. Even a lady as beautiful as you would not be engaged for all the dances at a ball so early in the evening.’
‘Are you calling Miss Bennet a liar?’ asked Deveril in a dangerously low tone of voice, stepping closer to Bingley.
Jane lightly put a restraining hand on his arm. ‘Please there is no need for any unpleasantness,’ she said and held out her dance card for Bingley to read.
He was horrified to see that every dance had indeed a name pencilled in. ‘My apologies, I had not meant to imply… I was…’
Bingley was reluctant to raise his eyes to Miss Bennet’s and was still looking at the dance card when he noticed another name. ‘Darcy,’ he cried, looking at his friend, ‘surely you will relinquish your dance with Miss Bennet to me.’
‘No, I will not,’ replied Darcy who was fully aware that Jane did not wish to dance with Bingley and hoped to stop this scene as a number of people were gathering to watch the drama.
‘But you do not even like dancing.’
‘Especially not with women who are only tolerable. I was surprised to see that you have lowered your standards to dance with Eliza,’ Miss Bingley could not resist a jibe at her newest rival.
‘On the contrary. I have raised my standards significantly since last we were in company.’
‘You cannot possibly claim that those country mushrooms are superior to someone like myself, who is wealthy, accomplished, fashionable and has attended the best ladies’ seminary.’
‘Miss Bingley, your antecedents are showing,’ came a new voice. ‘No gently bred lady would boast of her… assets the way you do.’
Being reminded of her roots in trade by a complete stranger made Miss Bingley angry and anger added to jealousy made her incautious. ‘That mercenary chit,’ she nodded towards Jane, ‘was always throwing herself at my brother. She even went so far as to follow him to town, and I doubt that her sister is any better.’
‘Miss Bingley, for your information, and although we are not accountable to you, I will tell you that we made arrangements at the beginning of the year to spend this time in town, since our sister Mary just turned eighteen. This season in London is a birthday treat for her,’ Elizabeth said mildly and with perfect decorum.
‘A likely story,’ huffed Caroline.
‘I happen to know that it is true,’ the stranger commented.
‘Who are you to claim such nonsense? Are you perchance the wife of that ghastly tradesman uncle who lives in Cheapside?’
‘Darcy, since you know this… person best, will you introduce us?’
‘With pleasure, Your Grace,’ Darcy said with a cold smile and had the satisfaction of hearing Caroline gasp. ‘I would like to make known to you, Miss Caroline Bingley, daughter of an honourable tradesman from Scarborough. Miss Bingley, I have the honour of introducing Her Grace, Lady Isabella Deveril, the Duchess of Barrington.’
Miss Bingley blanched as she realised her faux pas.
~T~
While Caroline was busy insulting Jane, Elizabeth and Darcy, Bingley looked back at the dance card which Jane had forgotten to put away and noticed Deveril’s name against three dances. Not wanting to admit even to himself that Jane could possibly prefer someone over him, and before anyone else could say anything, Bingley turned to Deveril. ‘I suggest you find yourself a different lady to importune. I saw Miss Bennet first and courted her for weeks,’ he jeered.
‘You may have seen her first, but did you ever attempt to find out ifshewanted to seeyou?’
‘Of course, she does. Why should she not? I am amiable, wealthy and some even say handsome. In other words, everything she could hope for in a husband. And I am certain that she was anxiously waiting for my addresses as she was always most charming and gracious. Therefore, it was only a matter of time before she would become my wife.’
Darcy, who was still glaring at Caroline, overheard that exchange and turned to his friend to stop him making a complete fool of himself. ‘Bingley, stop. You are as delusional as your sister,’ he hissed.
That comment brought Bingley up short as he rounded on Darcy. ‘What do you mean?’
‘After I encountered you in Gracechurch Street, I met Miss Bennet at that dinner to which my aunt had invited me. I discovered that my family had become friends with Miss Bennet and her family and invited me along so that I could have an opportunity to apologise to MissElizabeth. Hoping to help you to find happiness, I spoke to Miss Bennet about you…’ Darcy trailed off, reluctant to hurt his friend but knowing it had to be done.
He sighed and squared his shoulders. ‘She said that while you are an amiable young man, she found you to be too young and immature for her liking. I am afraid that while you were in Hertfordshire, she was only tolerating you out of politeness and kept hinting to you to turn your attention elsewhere.’
Bingley’s first instinct was to refute Darcy’s assertions but seeing his friend’s serious expression he thought back on his interactions with the lady. With the explanation he had just received, he reviewed their dealings in a different light. ‘Miss Bennet kept introducing me to her friends. I thought that she was doing so because she was proud to show off such an eligible suitor as myself. But, if what you say is true, she might have been doing so to redirect my attentions to another lady,’ he murmured thoughtfully, almost as if only speaking to himself.
‘No that cannot be true. I could not possibly have been so wrong.’ This exclamation came, surprisingly, from Miss Bingley, who had been diverted from her mortification in the hope to salvage this situation. ‘I know she was interested in you if only for your wealth.’
That statement was met with a chuckle from the duchess. ‘I hate to disillusion you, Miss Bingley, but compared to my future daughter-in-law you are a pauper.’
