“But that conduct,” said Mrs Hurst, “is done within the bounds of acceptable behaviour.”
“I disagree that there is any difference,” said Elizabeth. “One is dancing a dozen times a week, and the other is writing a dozen letters. Both are with the goal of learning if two people could suit.”
“Ladies sometimes employ arts for captivation,” Mr Darcy said, keeping his gaze on his wineglass. “Who wants to be schemed against or bargained for like a commodity on an exchange? A correspondence where both parties know the income, interests, and intentions of the other would cast aside all need for such arts.”
Miss Bingley did not look satisfied enough to continue the subject.
For the rest of the meal, Elizabeth hoped Mr Darcy approved of matchmaking by subscription because the debate was a means to end Miss Bingley’s attempts to captivate him. She took a long drink and let the dinner conversation hum around her.She was no closer to confirming that F was not Mr Darcy. All she had were coincidences that proved nothing.
In the drawing room, the conversation between the ladies was polite and strained, and, thankfully, the gentlemen did not linger at the table. Bingley entered and sat by Jane, Mr Hurst ambled to the sofa and sprawled across it, and Mr Darcy entered amid a conversation with her uncle. Mr Gardiner was a good-natured man and only a few years older than Mr Darcy, but it surprised her to see them together, especially since Mr Darcy’s expression showed none of the hauteur she expected to see from him while talking to someone lower than him in consequence.
When Mr Gardiner left him to go to the tea table, Elizabeth followed her uncle.
“What do you think of Mr Darcy?” she whispered.
“He seems a little stately for a young man, but he has an amiable temper.”
Elizabeth blinked. “He was civil?”
Her uncle gave her a look as though she had said something peculiar. “More than civil; I would say attentive. We talked of your aunt’s wish to visit Derbyshire, he asked after my sisters in Meryton, and then we talked of the panorama.”
“But was Mr Darcy not very disagreeable? Or make you feel as though speaking to him was a great imposition?”
“He was perfectly well-behaved, polite, and unassuming.” Her uncle took his cup and left her alone at the table, her mind a whirl.
She looked across the room and saw that Mr Darcy had joined Jane and Bingley. But rather than monopolise his friend, he talked to Jane, listened to her responses, and, heaven forbid, he smiled once. While Elizabeth pretended to listen to Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst play a duet, she watched Mr Darcy move on to talk to Mrs Gardiner, who actually was attending to the performance.
Elizabeth was near enough to hear some of their conversation over the music. It centred on Derbyshire, what she knew of the character of his late parents, and then, to her surprise, Mr Darcy asked about her children. He then listened as her aunt answered with all the pride a good mother should have.
Who would have thought that the people whose connexions were not good enough for his friend were now people worth Mr Darcy’s notice? Was he acting better because she had called him selfish? It was an admirable quality to recognise a fault and want to change it. F had done that, and rather than criticise him for his mistake or wonder at his honesty in admitting it, she admired his frankness and his willingness to change.
Liking her correspondent meant liking Mr Darcy for the same traits, and she dearly did not want to like Mr Darcy. He was a man who had treated Wickham horridly.
Elizabeth huffed and crossed the room to sit apart from everyone else. Why was he even soliciting the good opinion of her friends, of people he would hardly deign to touch his hat to in the street? He was insufferably rude and had hurt his friend, her sister, and Wickham. She wanted to like F, not Mr Darcy, and she still had no confirmation that they were not the same man.
“Do you regret there are not enough numbers for dancing?”
She looked up to see that Mr Darcy had followed her to this side of the room. While the sisters played, the others had formed for themselves a whist table. There must have been no other option but for him to pass a half an hour with her until the game finished.
“I know your opinion on dancing,” she said as lightly as she could, “especially with ladies who are only tolerably pretty, so perhaps it is best that we are too small a number tonight.”
“What an odd thing to say,” he said, sitting down. “You could not mean yourself, I am sure, because you are a handsome woman—and I have asked you three times to dance with me.”
He clearly had no memory of his comment at the Meryton assembly. He had no right to be gallant to her, either. It made her senselessly angry to remember how dismissive he had been of her then, and she was just as angry that he was courteous to her now.
“I think it best we listen to the performance in silence,” she said. “Or, even better, you can attend the whist game.” She was resolved against any sort of conversation with him, and turned away with a degree of ill humour.
Let him waste his newfound politeness on the Gardiners and Jane. His current kind behaviour to her friends fuelled her anger about Jane’s lost time with Bingley, about Mr Darcy’s previous rudeness, and about how he ruined Wickham’s future.
“Have I offended you, Miss Elizabeth?” Mr Darcy asked in a tone of confusion.
The expected answer for a lady to give would be to say “Of course not,” smile, and apologise for causing his misunderstanding. But the desire to vent her feelings rose in her heart. Besides, any attention or tolerance with Mr Darcy was an injury to Wickham.
“Since you asked,” she said quietly while looking at the pianoforte, “no, you have not offendedme.”
“If you mean your sister,” he said just as faintly, “I am aware of how my interference injured her, but I think my friend’s renewed attentions show the hope of Miss Bennet being in the fairest way for happiness.”
They glanced across the room to the whist table. Jane had a joyful expression that not even Mr Darcy could deny, and Bingley looked equally entranced. But what about Wickham? Even if Mr Darcy regretted what he did to Jane and Bingley,he showed no regrets about what he had done to that kind and charming man who now had nothing to his name.
