Jane looked at her sister. “I think you are too harsh on him. Maybe, maybe he likes to engage you. Maybe he does not mean unkindness.”
“Jane, you think well of anyone.”
Jane smiled but did not answer.
“Elizabeth, do you think it will be very formal?”
Elizabeth considered. “Formal enough to satisfy Caroline Bingley, and comfortable enough to please her brother. As forMr. Darcy…” She stopped, then laughed softly. “Well. He will endure it.”
Jane glanced at her sister. “You think he will come?”
“He accepted the invitation, did he not?”
“Yes, but…”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I know what you mean. Still, he is a man of propriety. He would not absent himself when the rest of the party attends. Besides,” she added, with a touch of mischief, “I am curious to see him at our table. It is quite a different thing from meeting at an assembly.” Though whether that curiosity would end in satisfaction, she could not be certain.
Jane did not answer at once. “I hope,” she said quietly, “that everyone will be at ease.”
Elizabeth looked at her, more seriously now. “Do you think that likely?”
Jane smiled faintly. “Perhaps not. But I hope it all the same.”
Elizabeth softened. “You always do.”
She went to the pianoforte and lifted the lid. “Very well. Let us decide what shall charm Netherfield into perfect contentment. What do you propose to sing?”
Jane hesitated. “Something simple. Nothing that draws too much attention.”
Elizabeth laughed. “My dear Jane, that is quite impossible.”
And with that, they set to work – Jane selecting, Elizabeth teasing, both of them aware, in their different ways, that the quiet order of the morning was already slipping into something more animated, more uncertain, and far more interesting.
Elizabeth, too, gave some thought to the part she must play the following evening. She had always taken pleasure in amusing others; yet on this occasion, she was not entirely certain for whose satisfaction she was most inclined to shine.
Chapter 3
Observations and Improprieties
The gentlemen were already assembled in the lower drawing-room at Netherfield and had been so for some minutes before any of the ladies appeared. Mr. Bingley, impatient to be gone and in excellent spirits, stood near the window, looking out upon the drive and declaring, for the third time, that the evening promised to be remarkably fine. Mr. Hurst occupied himself with little more than the hope of dinner, and Mr. Darcy, though outwardly composed, paced once or twice across the room before settling near the fireplace, his gloves laid neatly upon the table beside him.
“Caroline will be but a moment,” Louisa Hurst said at last, with a glance toward the door and a tone of habitual indulgence. “She is never ready until she is perfectly satisfied.”
Bingley laughed. “She must not keep us waiting too long, or Mrs. Bennet will think us already unpunctual.”
Louisa rose with a resigned air. “I will fetch her. Otherwise, we shall never arrive.”
She left them, and the gentlemen decided to wait in the hall, ready to go.
Upstairs, Caroline Bingley stood before the glass, adjusting a ribbon which had already been adjusted twice. Her gownhad arrived only the previous week; its colour became her exceedingly, and the arrangement of her hair had been studied until no curl appeared accidental. She examined herself with a critical eye, turned slightly to one side, then the other, and allowed herself a small, satisfied smile.
Louisa entered without ceremony. “Caroline, they are waiting.”
“Yes, yes,” Caroline replied, without moving. “I am coming.”
She gathered her shawl, took a breath as though preparing for an entrance of some consequence, and descended the stairs at a measured pace. Yet she did not go on at once. Instead, she paused at the top, just within view of the gentlemen below, where the light from the chandelier fell most favourably upon her.
She knew very well that they would look up.
