Mr. Darcy, his mouth twitching in amusement, interjected smoothly, “Variety in one’s day is no bad thing. Besides, I imagine the gentlemen will not be gone the whole afternoon.”
“Let us hope not,” Miss Bingley said with false sweetness. “It is always more entertaining when the company is…balanced.”
Elizabeth offered her a polite smile. “I am certain we shall manage,” she said, though inwardly she thought none of the options particularly appealing. Jane caught her sister’s eye and smiled gently, perhaps sensing her thoughts, butsaid nothing.
Mr. Bingley, perhaps perceiving a faint tension in the air, clapped his hands lightly. “Then it is settled—sport for the gentlemen, and whatever amusements the ladies decide upon. We shall all have something to anticipate.”
Mr. Darcy looked towards Elizabeth, catching her gaze for the briefest moment before he returned to his breakfast, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.
The afternoon passed much as Elizabeth had anticipated. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst had installed themselves in the drawing room with Jane and Elizabeth, ostensibly to enjoy a few quiet diversions, though it soon became apparent that their principal amusement lay in interrogating the Bennet sisters.
Miss Bingley began with a deceptively light tone. “Tell me, Miss Bennet, I have heard that your family is quite well connected in Hertfordshire. Your mother must have a great many acquaintances in the county.”
Jane smiled, serene as ever. “Indeed, she does. We have long been settled at Longbourn, and we are blessed with many dear friends among our neighbours.”
Mrs. Hurst leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. “And your relations? You must have family in other parts of England as well?”
Jane nodded, unperturbed. “Yes, some of my mother’s family live in Meryton, and we also have relations in London—near Cheapside.”
Elizabeth noted the swift, telling glance exchanged between the Bingley sisters, a look of poorly concealed disapproval they no doubt believed went unnoticed. Jane either did not see or chose to ignore it, continuing to speak warmly of her uncle and aunt in town.
Mrs. Hurst shifted in her seat, her voice tinged with condescension. “Cheapside is…quite bustling, is it not?”
Elizabeth could not help but to interject, her tone deceptively mild. “Indeed, it is. A most convenient location for all manner of commerce, and my uncle’s business prospers greatly there. We are fortunate in our family.”
Miss Bingley’s smile grew thin. “How very…industrious.”
Elizabeth thought wryly how transparent their efforts to extract information were—each question a thinly veiled probe designed to expose some imagined deficiency. She wondered whether they believed Jane’s gentleness would yield more than her own forthrightanswers.
When at last tea was announced, Elizabeth felt no regret in abandoning the thinly veiled interrogation for the more welcome company of the gentlemen. The door opened, and the men came traipsing in, all good cheer and smiles, the scent of the crisp outdoors clinging to them. Mr. Darcy’s dark hair was windblown from their sport, and Elizabeth thought, with a sudden rush of warmth, that he looked even more handsome for it.
Mr. Bingley, flushed with satisfaction, declared, “We bagged enough birds for supper tomorrow. They have been sent to the kitchens to be prepared.”
Miss Bingley made a face and gave a delicate shudder. “How very glad I am that the task of providing meat for the table falls to the gentlemen. I cannot imagine enduring such a bloody occupation.”
Elizabeth sipped her tea to hide a smile, thinking how nonsensical Miss Bingley could be—full of grand pronouncements, yet happy enough to enjoy the results of what she claimed to abhor.
“And how did you amuse yourselves?” Mr. Bingley asked brightly.
Miss Bingley was quick to reply. “Oh, in a most charming fashion. We played several hands of piquet, though Miss Elizabeth seemed more disposed to watch than to play. We had a turn about the gallery to admire Louisa’sfavorite landscapes, and then, at my insistence, Miss Bennet sang for us. Her voice is most pleasing—quite refined in tone.”
Mrs. Hurst nodded, adding, “We also enjoyed a pot of chocolate by the fire and discussed the latest fashion plates from Town. It was a quiet afternoon, but very diverting.”
Elizabeth caught Mr. Darcy’s eye across the tea table, the corners of his mouth lifting as though he suspected that the afternoon had been far less diverting for her than Miss Bingley claimed. Something in his gaze—warm, knowing—was enough to lift the tension from her shoulders, if only for a moment.
Later, after dressing for supper, Elizabeth descended the stairs and made her way towards the parlour. She was just outside the door when she heard Miss Bingley’s voice, low but cutting.
“…and the Bennets have relations in Cheapside,” Miss Bingley was saying. “Pray tell me, Mr. Darcy, what do you now think of Miss Eliza Bennet and her fine eyes?”
There was a pause before Darcy’s voice answered, calm yet firm. “If the Bennets had relations to fillall of Cheapside, it would not make them one jot less agreeable. Many have made their fortune from trade, and it would be the height of arrogance to denigrate another for having made their own way in the world by similar means.”
A silence followed, weighted and telling. Miss Bingley did not reply.
Elizabeth waited a breath, then stepped into the room as though she had heard nothing. Mr. Darcy looked up immediately, his eyes meeting hers with an expression she could not quite name. Slowly, a small, genuine smile touched his lips.
“You look lovely this evening, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, rising slightly in his seat.
She inclined her head. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”
