“Really, Catherine, must you pester the poor girl so?” Lady de Bourgh’s predictable censure sounded from across the room.
One glance at Jane revealed her uneasiness as the two ladies glared at each other. Hoping to stall the inevitable battle, Elizabeth stood and moved toward the pianoforte, hoping her playing would stop the incoming argument before it started. She selected a piece she knew by heart and sat before the keyboard. Her playing filled the room, and she watched the rest of the assemblage over the top of the pianoforte.
The gentlemen were not absent from their company for long before they rejoined the ladies. Sir Andrew moved immediately to Charlotte’s side, taking Elizabeth’s spot on the settee. Colonel Fitzwilliam came toward the pianoforte. Mr. Darcy followed, but his aunt stalled him, commanding his attention for Miss de Bourgh.
“Miss Bennet.” Colonel Fitzwilliam stood by the instrument. “May I turn your pages for you?”
“I thank you for your solicitousness. I have this piece memorized but your aid will be invaluable when I select the next.”
“Your playing is charming. You imbue much feeling into the notes.” The colonel grinned. “I have witnessed many a lady in high society who plays with technical proficiency but lacks emotion.”
“You are harsh upon the ladies of your sphere,” Elizabeth teased. “Whatever shall we do? Perhaps inform thetonthat their ladies lack accomplishment? I am certain their mamas would be appalled to learn that their daughters’ lessons were lacking.”
“Never! We would be cast out, burned at the stake for our heresy.”
Mr. Darcy approached, and Elizabeth’s guard immediately came up. She felt sure he would ruin her lively discourse with the colonel.
“Shall we ask Mr. Darcy his opinion?” she asked slyly. “I know he has strong beliefs in regard to ladylike accomplishment.”
“Does he? I suppose it ought not to surprise me. Darcy is fastidious and particular. Those traits most certainly extend to a lady’s accomplishments.”
Mr. Darcy frowned. “What nonsense have I unknowingly joined?”
“We were discussing my playing, Mr. Darcy. Your cousin claims the ladies of thetonhave great technical proficiency but lack emotion when they play. Colonel Fitzwilliam finds my performance moving. What say you, sir? Does my skill at the instrument grant me the title of accomplished lady?”
She did not wait for him to answer but turned to Colonel Fitzwilliam. “I have it on good authority that Mr. Darcy believes an accomplished lady to be a master of languages, art, and at least one instrument. They must also net purses, paint tables, and have a certain something in their air and manner of speaking, walking… I am afraid I fall far short of his notions.”
“Miss Bennet misrepresents me, cousin,” Mr. Darcy interrupted. “It was Miss Bingley who listed the mentionedaccomplishments. I merely added to her list. I believe I said, ‘to all this she must add an improvement of her mind by extensive reading.’”
“So, I meet one of Mr. Darcy’s specifications! I confess, I have read extensively.” Elizabeth chuckled. “Well, Colonel, what shall I play next? My fingers await your orders.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam handed her another selection and she began playing. She knew the score well and so could converse as she played.
“How did my cousin behave while in Hertfordshire, Miss Bennet?” the colonel asked.
She smirked. “Are you certain you wish to know? Prepare yourself for something dreadful, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
“Is it so terrible?” He glanced at Mr. Darcy, who was frowning in displeasure.
Elizabeth could not help teasing the sober gentleman. She turned to his cousin. “The first time I met Mr. Darcy we were at an assembly where gentlemen were scarce, and more than one lady sat down without a partner. He danced only two dances and then stood by the wall the rest of the night, glowering at all who dared find joy in the evening’s entertainment. I have heard tell he sat next to one lady for a half an hour without saying a word.”
Mr. Darcy flushed and clenched his jaw. “I have not the talent of speaking to those with whom I am unacquainted. I am ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers.”
“Oh? Shall we ask him, colonel, why a gentleman of sense and education who has lived in the world is ill-qualified to recommend himself to strangers?”
“I can answer that,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “It is because he will not give himself the trouble.”
“I certainly do not have the talent that some possess of speaking easily with those I have never seen before.” Mr. Darcy jumped in to defend himself. “I cannot catch their tone ofconversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.”
“I do not play as well as I wish. My fingers stumble over the keys, unable to perform with the same force or rapidity I have seen other ladies employ.” She paused and looked him directly in his eyes. “But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault… because I would not take the trouble ofpracticing.” She smiled saucily and redirected her gaze to the music before her as Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed.
“She has you there, Darcy,” he said with humor. “You avoid socializing wherever you can, and it has not aided you in mastering the minutiae of polite society.”
“Maybe I am only in need of the proper inducement.” Elizabeth looked up and was arrested by the intensity of Mr. Darcy’s stare. His look seemed to convey some meaning, but it was lost on Elizabeth. Flustered, she returned to her playing, wishing the evening over so she could retreat to the parsonage.
Chapter Sixteen
March 26, 1812
