She turned and looked at him, aghast. “I have ascribed many words to your reaction at seeing me here when you arrived butpleasedis not one that I included.”
Darcy frowned, his brow furrowing. “What words did you ascribe?”
She smiled and replied cheekily. “I am afraid such disclosures would spoil the evening. Pray, let us partake of our meal without me causing any disquiet or disturbance with my words.”
He looked confused but nodded and they both returned to their soup. Not many minutes passed before he spoke again.
“How is Mrs. Collins faring in her new situation?"
Elizabeth preferred to avoid this topic, for she blamed Mr. Darcy for her sister’s present state. “Jane has risen to the occasion. I believe she has foundcontentmentin her lot as Mrs. Collins.”
“I suppose your mother knew joy at having a daughter so well situated.” He sounded sardonic, and Elizabeth did not like the implication she heard in his tone.
“My mother is as pleased as any woman who disposes of a daughter in matrimony.” She stirred her soup as she contemplated her next words. “Mrs. Bennet has five daughters to marry off, and so her joy at knowing one of themwell settledas you put it, can know no bounds.”
“Then I am happy for her.” The footmen appeared with the next course, effectively ending their conversation. Pleased with the change in conversation partners, she turned to Sir Andrew on her other side.
“I have never seen Darcy in such knots,” he said immediately.
“I do not know what you mean.” Mr. Darcy’s conversation had been much as it ever was in Hertfordshire.
“He is tripping over himself,” chortled Sir Andrew. “I have known Darcy since my twelfth year. Our grandmothers were great friends. Summers spent at Matlock are among the fondest of my memories. He has always been a serious individual but never has he lacked oratory skills.”
“Mr. Darcy presents himself the same here as he did when he resided at Netherfield Park.”
“And where is this Netherfield Park?” Sir Andrew asked.
“It is three miles from my home in Hertfordshire.” Elizabeth took a bite of her roast duck. The bird had been done to a turn, and the excellent flavor pleased her.
“I suppose I have never witnessed Darcy in society outside of his circles. Does he behave poorly?” Sir Andrew sounded curious, and Elizabeth wanted to enlighten him. Maybe Mr. Darcy would listen in and learn how his manner had disenchanted the denizens of Meryton.
Sir Andrew continued to question Elizabeth on many subjects during the second course and she answered to her best ability. His inquiries began with seeking information about Hertfordshire and her neighbors before turning to Charlotte.
“Have you been friends with Miss Lucas for some duration?” he asked. His nonchalant demeanor seemed too casual, too disinterested.
“Charlotte and I have known each other for as long as I can remember.” Elizabeth smiled. “Her father received his knighthood when I was seven. Charlotte’s family has always lived in Meryton, but Sir William purchased Lucas Lodge, the estate nearest to Longbourn, at that time. Lady Lucas is my mother’s best friend, and so we were often in company.”
“She is a singular lady to befriend a girl so much her junior.”
Elizabeth turned a questioning gaze on him. “You do not have gentleman friends that are younger than you? Do you imagine that ladies only find companionship with those who are of an age with them?”
“I meant no offense. You two simply make an odd pairing.” He shrugged.
“Why?”
“Miss Lucas strikes me as a practical, prudent, pragmatic individual. She is self-assured and seems like she is not easily shaken or upset. You, on the other hand, are vibrant, energetic, and verbose.”
“They say opposites attract.” Elizabeth felt defensive. Her friendship with Charlotte had been called many things but never odd.
“So, they do.” Sir Andrew fell silent, a look of contemplation on his face that Elizabeth had never witnessed.
The final course came and went, and Elizabeth suffered Mr. Darcy’s tedious and sometimes objectionable conversation before the ladies retreated to the sitting room.
“You will play this evening, Miss Bennet.” Lady Catherine’s command came as soon as she had settled herself on the settee next to Charlotte.
She attempted to demure, saying, “I did not prevaricate regarding my skills, madam. I play little, and very ill. I do not practice as I ought to please company with my playing.”
“Play, Miss Bennet. There are none here to censure you.”
