“A year between them, I think. He is a lively one; ’tis why the master likes him. But I think him less disciplined than Mr Bingley, although when Mr Balfour settles he shall turn out well enough.” Elizabeth held back a smile; Carew was younger than Mr Balfour. “Mrs Lanyon brought ten thousand pounds to her marriage, and got it back when her husband died. She is reserved, modest. We wonder if Mrs Lanyon could be a good match for Mr Darcy.”
Elizabeth turned quickly, and Carew dropped her hair. Frowning, she took Elizabeth’s head in her hands and turned it back to face the mirror. Her blue eyes narrowed in frustration in the mirror’s reflection,and Elizabeth apologised. “I am sorry. You took me by surprise.”
“You thought Miss Bingley better suited?” Carew said, her small prim mouth tightening farther.
“No, not at all,” she said quickly. “He does not enjoy her flattery.”
“He might also know what Miss Bingley truly thinks of Mr Balfour and Mrs Lanyon.”
Although the maid was often abrupt, she now appeared positively severe. “How do you mean?”
Carew gave her a knowing look in the mirror. “Miss Bingley does not approve of their origins, and you know I do not mean Scotland.”
A wretched realisation struck Elizabeth. Caroline’s dislike of Mrs Lanyon was not merely bitterness towards a woman esteemed by Darcy. She called to mind some of Caroline’s interactions with the widow: her asking if she preferred Indian muslin to English cloth, her suggestion that she could not afford to appear more tanned. And what had she been about to say when Caroline said why she would not consider Mr Balfour as a husband because he was half... what? Indian?
And Mrs Lanyon saw me often in Caroline’s company and assumed I share her venomous feelings.
Elizabeth sat in disgusted silence whilst Carew finished her hair.
The gentlemen lingeredaround the table after dinner, but Bingley was visibly eager to join the ladies. Darcy suspected that were he a less agreeable man, this besotted newlywed attitude would have been met with taunts and ribaldry. However, he was so earnest in his attachment to so lovely a woman that Hurst, Balfour, and Utterson could not be cruel.
After a few more good-natured compliments, Utterson said, “Darcy, you have been rather silent in admiring the lady. Have you nothing to say?”
Bingley met his eye with an expectant look. Darcy hoped, very much hoped, that Bingley knew how happy he was for him, how—although it was not needed—he approved of his choice. Trying to affect as serious a manner as he could, Darcy said, “I still say she smiles too much.”
This inadvertently led to some coarse talk from the others on why Mrs Bingley might be smiling; but whilst they teased, Darcy smiled at his friend, and Bingley returned it, giving him a grateful nod in acknowledgement.
“We are outnumbered, gentlemen, grossly outnumbered in this party,” Balfour said after pushing his glass away. “And three of us five are single, but there are only two single ladies amongst us, and all Bingley’s sisters.”
Utterson narrowed his eyes. “You forgot Miss Darcy and Mrs Annesley.”
Balfour shook his head. “No, Mrs Annesley is too near to forty for my liking, and Miss Darcy too near to fifteen. Some men might like such a young lady, but not me.”
Darcy looked around the table. “And none of you is stupid enough to trifle with my sister.”
“Certainly not,” Balfour answered; Utterson had pulled a face in response to the idea. “So, I shall have to confine my flirting to Bingley’s single sisters—if you do not mind, Bingley?”
Before he could answer, Utterson asked, “Whymustyou flirt with them?”
“For practice for when I meet the woman who will actually become Mrs Balfour. She shall be neither of Bingley’s sisters since one does not approve of me and the other is too poor for me.”
“That is a foolish reason to trifle with either one of them.”
“It is not trifling,” Balfour cried. “One shall be annoyed by it and not take me seriously, and the other already knows I am not in earnest.”
“You do Bingley no favours by requiring him to defend his sisters’ dignity when he ought to be enjoying his wife’s smiles,” Hurst said.
“I think the ladies in question can speak for themselves,” Bingley answered. “Besides, Caroline would only notice if one particular man flirted with her.” Everyone then looked at Darcy, but had enough sense not to speak.
“I have no design in offending the ladies. Well, that is not true,” Balfour added in a lower voice. “I would not mind if I offended Miss Bingley.”
“How can you say such a thing about his sister?” Utterson exclaimed.
Darcy met Bingley’s eye over the rim of his glass.He knows that Miss Bingley does not approve of Balfour’s race and would never consider him a proper match.
“Trust me, Utterson, Balfour may amuse himself by trying to charm Caroline if he wishes to,” Bingley said darkly. Darcy thought he made an effort to be at ease when he added, “And Lizzy is too clever to be taken in by Balfour.”
“I suppose it not worth my time then, and that leaves the pretty but poor Miss Bennet for you, Utterson,” Balfour said as he rose. “Shall we join the ladies?”
