She knew she had no power over Darcy, not after the way she acted toward him. And he was perhaps still enchanted by L despite his promises in his letter. He might even be bewitched by the friendly and artless Mrs Sullivan. The widow might appear more worldly and wise compared to the young lady who misjudged him.
She had never had to put herself forward before to encourage a man’s notice, and of course it was looked down upon for a woman to show a strong interest in a man. But now women could subscribe to a matchmaking business and announce what they were looking for in a husband in a private letter. Women could write to a stranger who appealed to them from a list of men. For a man of character and merit like Darcy, she could put her heart forward for the taking.
She could encourage lively banter with him rather than try to provoke his anger. She could listen when Darcy spoke and not assume the worst of him. But would that be enough to convince Darcy that he wanted her to love him?
Chapter Eleven
Lady Courtney had a fine house filled with company that Darcy knew, but he was not in the mood to make small talk. He never excelled at it in the first place, and with his thoughts still distracted by L’s sudden rejection and Elizabeth’s abhorrence of him, he was not willing to put forth a strong effort.
His cousin was dancing with Mrs Sullivan, and Darcy knew Fitzwilliam wanted him to dance with his friend this evening. The last time he had danced at a ball was with Elizabeth, and he could still recall the curious stares of her neighbours upon seeing them. If he danced among this company, it would not be as remarkable, but it would still bring attention to Mrs Sullivan. As much as he disliked dancing, if he wanted to be more gentlemanly, he would also ask any lady he knew who was sitting down to dance.
“Darcy,” a voice called through the din. He turned to see Bingley waving at him from the other side of the room near to the door. He had dressed before him and left to accompany his sisters. They were with him, along with Mr Hurst, and Darcy resigned himself to having to dance with both ladies. After he greeted them, he added, “Why are you standing all the way over here?”
“He wants a view of the entrance hall,” Mrs Hurst said. She shared a look with her sister, and they both lifted their eyes. “He sent his chaise to bring his friends from Cheapside.”
“They are your friends as well,” Bingley said. “At least Miss Bennet is your particular friend.”
Darcy knew his sisters certainly were not, but there was no point in saying that aloud. It was better to never see an affront if one could help it. He would do better to show Miss Bennet all the politeness and respect she deserved as the chosen bride of one of his closest friends.
He made fashionable talk with Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst while Bingley waited for the woman he would soon ask to marry him. The chit-chat kept off serious subjects, but he could expect little better at a ball.
“There they are,” cried Bingley soon after.
Darcy turned to see the Gardiners and their nieces approach. Miss Bennet was a beautiful woman and would be considered beautiful regardless of her character. Elizabeth was pretty, but it was her liveliness, the intelligence in her eyes, her playful manner that enhanced her beauty.
He kept his eyes fixed on Elizabeth too much because Miss Bingley whispered to him, “I wonder if they have ever been amongst such exalted company in all their lives?”
He typically resisted women who forced themselves into his friendship. If admitted, they were a snare or an incumbrance, but there was no avoiding his friend’s sister. Before the other party reached them, he said to her under his breath, “The Bennets and Gardiners could soon become your family, and it is unbecoming to speak against them.”
Miss Bingley stiffened beside him, but turned it into a quick curtsey as the others arrived.
“How do you do, Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth added after she had greeted everyone in a general way.
It surprised him to be addressed, and he only bowed, trying to keep a pleasant affect while not showing her any notice. She could not want it, and Miss Bingley would tease him later and repeat something or other about his admiration of her fine eyes.
“Have you read anything of interest lately?” Elizabeth continued. When he hesitated she added, “I misspoke when I told you I could hardly talk of books in a ballroom, so I hope you will humour me tonight.”
Talking with Elizabeth was a painful reminder of how little she liked him. It would take longer for his heart to move on with her sister likely to marry his friend. But not engaging her in conversation would be rude. He could not avoid Miss Bingley, however little he liked her, and he could not avoid Elizabeth, however much he admired her in vain.
“Why do you not tell me what you are reading?” Hopefully she would name a book, he could say he had not read it, and be done with the conversation.
“Something by one of the Porter sisters. I know you enjoy their works.” She paled and said, in a much higher pitch, “I mean, I assume you do, since I hear you are always buying books. I ought not to presume, of course. I enjoyedThaddeus of Warsaw.” She gave a nervous laugh. “Do you even read novels?”
“I do.” Why was Elizabeth awkward? It was unlike her. “And I have readThaddeus of Warsaw, althoughTheHungarian Brotherswritten by her sister is my favourite.”
“I likeThaddeus of Warsawvery much, but I will read the other on your recommendation. I will be cross with you if I learn you led me astray,” she said, meeting his eye and smiling. “I am prepared to argue my point thatThaddeusis better, so you must not hold back in debate even though I am a lady.”
He bowed again, wondering why she was being pleasant and sporting to him.
“I always thought silence became a lady best,” Miss Bingley said, moving near to stand by him and face Elizabeth.
“But one must guard oneself against a proud and insulting silence,” she said archly before turning to give him a small smile. “Silence should result from one’s prudence and not the consequence of their pride.”
Darcy could not help but smile back. She effortlessly charmed him, and she did not know the power she held over his heart. She must have forgiven him for his selfishness and pride if she could tease him about it so mildly. But did she truly believe that he wanted to be a better friend and a more generous man?
“A model woman would not want to debate with a man, that is all I meant,” Miss Bingley pressed. “A model woman is rather silent in company. Like Miss Darcy,” she said, looking at him. “It is her countenance that shows her interest, as only an observing eye could discern.”
“My sister is shy,” Darcy said. With a quick look at Elizabeth, he added, “She could do with a little more polite conversation.”
