“Yes, Mrs Lanyon, why scold your brother?” asked Miss Bingley. “I do not know what is proper where you are from, but I would never dream of sharing an opinion on my brother’s choices. A gentleman may do as he pleases.”
Darcy threw her a look that she pretended to not comprehend. He had been complicit in helping Miss Bingley share such an opinion that Bingley gave up Jane Bennet entirely. Shame made him pour more coffee into his cup to avoid looking at Elizabeth or Mrs Bingley.
Mrs Lanyon was silent a long moment. “Lewis may do as he pleases, of course. I shall be satisfied that whatever he decides may be judged decent and proper.”
With this, the table’s attention fell from Balfour, and talk amongst small groups recommenced. Darcy noticed Elizabeth watching Mrs Bingley and Mrs Hurst’s conversation without joining it. Miss Bingley talked with Georgiana and Mrs Annesley, and Mrs Lanyon was again as silent as she typically was.Is Elizabeth left out only by the arrangement of the table, or was she being slighted?
“Darcy? I said, Darcy, what think you of Balfour’s purchase?” Bingley asked him in a low voice, leaning across the table towards him.
He shrugged. “I shall have to see it, I suppose, although in general I think a coach like that a needless expense for a single man.”
“No, I mean, ought I to have bought one for Jane? My chaise was new last autumn, and I hate to be wasteful. She said she did not need or want a new carriage, but?—”
“You ought to trust your own judgment,” he said quietly, “and not compare yourself to your friends.” Darcy then laughed. “If you cannot do that, at the least trust your wife’s judgment.”
“Are you talking of me, Bingley?” Balfour called down the table. “You do not approve of how I spend my money?”
“You may do as you please,” Bingley answered good-naturedly. “No matter how you complain, you seem to have the means, and you do travel amongst your numerous friends a great deal.”
“He travels a great deal, but then he accomplishes so very little,” Utterson added drily.
Balfour pretended to be affronted. “That is no striking resemblance to my character, I am sure! Mrs Bingley, Miss Bennet, do not believe a word they say about me. I am as determined as Utterson and as industrious as Darcy. I am a talented man, all ambition.”
“All ambition?” Darcy had to interject. “You havenoambition. Your talents are unequal to great exertions.”
“Yes!” agreed Bingley. “You have means, but what do you do with your time and talents?”
Balfour did not so much as blush when he said, “Like any young heir come a little prematurely into an inheritance from his mother’s side, I run wanton and run riot until I bring my reputation to the brink of ruin.”
The ladies blushed, laughed, and looked away at this matter-of-fact statement. Utterson lifted his eyes and shook his head. They did not know Balfour as well as Darcy did. He was a dependable friend, and an invaluable one in the days after Darcy’s father had died. Balfour could act like a superficial, self-conceited coxcomb, but he was generous and loyal. He teased a great deal, but hemocked himself more than anyone else.
“If this is your manner with only a small legacy from your mother, what on earth shall be the state of your reputation upon the death ofyour father?” Elizabeth asked, a smile pulling at her lips. She appeared to have sketched Balfour’s character accurately.
“Hmm, I have not given the matter a thought. Perhaps my debauchery ought to be in direct proportion to my inheritance? I am off to a fine start, at any rate.”
Elizabeth only laughed politely.
“You have that look on your face, Darcy,” Balfour said to him. “Do you not remember your own days as a young heir about town, or were they too long ago?”
“We passed those years together. You are the same age as me, lest you forget, and those days were not half so wild as you pretend they were.” He and Balfour had met around the time they reached their majority, and had had a steady friendship ever since. “But you have not inherited yet, Balfour—that is the difference between us.”
“Aye, my father is in excellent health. And so I am living on a small allowance like Utterson since I have wasted my mother’s legacy on frivolity. I am in poverty compared to you. How unkind of you to call it to mind! You ought to think more on the cares and concerns of those who have less than you, my dear Darcy.”
This was said carelessly, a way to tease an old friend, but painful thoughts intruded:“... your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others...”Did Elizabeth still think him proud, selfish, unfeeling? She clearly thought him an admirable landlord, but did she truly think better of him since Hunsford?
He must devote himself to the business of being agreeable to her. The visit could not pass without some moment to show her the kindness she deserved.Would it be enough for me if she only thinks better of me?Based on her manner and expression when she exited the carriage yesterday, it felt like there was no hope that she could love him.
Perhaps he would find a reason to speak with her alone after breakfast. The party rose to leave and were talking to one another. Darcy walked around the table to reach Elizabeth before she left, wondering if she would walk the grounds with him if he asked, or if she would refuse or insist someone else join them.
“Darcy, shall we kill all of your birds?” Balfour asked whilst he and Bingley were settling how to spend their day now that breakfast wasfinished. “I may not be a good shot, but I am eager to see what your gunroom has to offer.”
“Today is the sixth; we cannot shoot until the twelfth,” Utterson said with the utmost impatience. In a gentler voice, he then said, “If we are to amuse ourselves today, then perhaps Miss Bennet will finish admiring the paintings in the gallery with me?”
“Yes, but I say again I know nothing of art. Only one portrait held—” For some reason, Elizabeth’s eyes flitted towards him for a heartbeat. She then said, in a hurried manner, “Can we look at Miss Darcy’s work? They might be more intelligible to me.”
Darcy wished he did not feel as though he had a greater claim on her attention than did any other gentleman. He was not of a jealous nature, and he had no right to feel slighted, but that did not stop the disappointed feelings from coursing through his veins when he saw Elizabeth and Utterson standing together.
“Mr Darcy,” Mrs Lanyon called his attention. “You never did say if you wished to ride with Miss Darcy and me.”
