His impertinent serenity and the smirk on his face—like nothing had happened and they were still friends—angered her and she averted her eyes.
“Lizzy, did you hear Mr Bingley? He asked if you are well,” Jane whispered to her.
She started, then quickly smiled at her sister and then at the gentleman.
“I apologise, sir. I am very well. This white soup is excellent,” she declared.
“It is, indeed!” Mr Collins interjected. “Lady Catherine always insists on having white soup at a good dinner party. And I must say, this ball would surely have her ladyship’s approval. Would you not agree, Mr Darcy?”
Mr Collins was sitting opposite Elizabeth, next to Charlotte Lucas, who seemed to be listening to his conversation with great interest.
Darcy, several seats away from them, responded briefly, his words seconded by a glare.
“I am sure you are more accustomed than I to my aunt’s preferences, Mr Collins. I cannot remember ever discussing white soup with her.”
The mockery, harsh and disdainful, sounded offensive to those who understood it and several looks were exchanged.
As much as Elizabeth loathed her cousin’s silliness, she felt sorry for him. Mr Collins, however, appear oblivious to the insult and replied, “Your assumption honours me, sir! I am doing my best to follow Lady Catherine’s suggestions, as her advice has proven exceedingly valuable every time.”
Darcy appeared dismayed and only nodded. For a moment, Elizabeth’s eyes met his and she could not conceal a disapproving frown. Her regrets at believing Wickham did not compensate for her rightful dislike of his proud and conceited manners.
He seemed to understand the silent censure and his countenance changed briefly. Elizabeth returned her attention to her sister, and then she heard Darcy saying in a more amicable voice, “I am sure Lady Catherine has a reliable and worthy companion in you, Mr Collins. I will remember to mention it in my next letter to her.”
Utter and deep awe burst out on Mr Collins’s face. He gazed at Darcy with such veneration that the latter could not hide his amusement. Elizabeth grew embarrassed again as Mr Collins found it necessary to add, “Mr Darcy, I can honestly declare that this is one of the most extraordinary nights of my life.”
“Well, one could hardly imagine that white soup might have such an effect,” Mr Bennet declared with his usual mockery.
Surprisingly to Elizabeth, her father’s amusement seemed silently shared by Darcy. Then the conversation changed to other subjects until supper ended and the music resumed.
∞∞∞
Darcy bore the rest of the ball stoically. Mr Collins’ insistence brought him to the edge of patience and he responded rudely until he noticed Elizabeth’s scolding glance.
He could see Elizabeth’s annoyance with her cousin’s ridiculousness, but still, offending her relatives in public made her uncomfortable too. While paying more attention to Elizabeth’s family, he was surprised by some of Mr Bennet’s witty remarks. The gentleman seemed to possess a sharp mind and an inclination to ridicule silliness that Elizabeth had certainly inherited. The fact that he was careless in jesting at the expense of his own wife and daughters was unacceptable, surely. But on closer examination, some of his own relatives’ behaviour was similar.
While bearing the noise around him with a glass of brandy, Darcy pondered again on his estimation of Elizabeth’s feelings. How could he have been convinced of an admiration that that never existed? Was he so arrogant, so self-important to assume that any woman would favour him—as Wickham had suggested? Could he rely on his judgement and wisdom so little?
Chapter 3
Darcy was brought back from his thoughts by Bingley, who approached him decidedly.
“Darcy, you look even more displeased with this ball than with others we have attended together.”
“Not at all, Bingley. I am perhaps more preoccupied with matters that I was not aware of until tonight.”
“No bad news from London, I hope?”
“No, not at all. Do not worry about me, Bingley, I am well.”
“Are you upset that I invited Wickham? I noticed the way you look at each other...”
“I am not upset with you, Bingley. I am infuriated by his impertinence. And yes, his mere presence is an annoyance to me and everyone who knows him well enough.”
“You should have told me not to include him in the invitation. And being locked in the library...How did that happen? I mean, why were you there, if I am allowed to enquire?”
“I wished to speak to him privately and I almost pushed him into the library. We argued and I, in a rage, neglected my common sense. So I pulled the door too violently and broke the doorknob. Not much of a story...”
“And Miss Bennet?”
