Darcy kissed her again, his eyes smouldering. “I intend to.”
Chapter 42
Elizabeth realised, as she readied herself for dinner, that she had completely neglected Caroline Bingley. Since that morning, she had only been able to think about Jane. Her other guest had disappeared entirely from her mind, and it was only now that Lizzie remembered her duties as hostess.
She knew that Mrs. Reynolds would have made Caroline welcome and seen to her every comfort. It was strange that nobody, even Jane, seemed to have a good opinion of Miss Bingley. Still, that did not give Elizabeth an excuse to neglect her guest.
Elizabeth sent a message to the servants to change the seating arrangements for dinner. She had planned to have Jane beside her, but she knew that her sister would not mind being moved down for the sake of domestic happiness. Miss Bingley was placed higher, then Mr. Bingley had to move beside her, and finally Jane was placed at the bottom of the table. Elizabeth suspected, from the way her sister had mumbled when describing Mr. Bingley’s kindness to her in London, that Jane would have no objections to being placed at his side.
The icy expression Miss Bingley wore when they had their drinks vanished when they were shown into dinner. With a surprisedsmirk, she settled down near the head of the table and eyed the silverware with satisfaction. Her posture was perfect and her cherry-red velvet gown was ostentatious enough to grace a duke’s table.
As she sat down beside her, Elizabeth could not help feeling a little underdressed. She ran her hand self-consciously down her skirt and then remembered the expression in Darcy’s eyes the first time she had worn this gown. It was fawn-brown, not a fashionable colour, but one which made her dark hair shine like polished walnut. Darcy had said that she looked like a wood nymph. Elizabeth’s confidence returned; she could not help thinking that Miss Bingley looked more like a tomato than one of the fae.
While Miss Bingley was clearly displeased to find herself in such company, she was polite and made engaging conversation. Every compliment she made came with a few prickly barbs, but when everyone ignored the gibes, she stopped making them. Looking bored, she picked at her food.
As the meal continued and they ran out of pleasantries to discuss, Elizabeth started to watch Jane. At first, she was content just to drink in the sight of her. Dear Jane, safe, happy andhere.There was darkness in her, but nothing that could not be repaired. Her heart was still tender, and her soul still shone like a star. Their mother had done her worst, and now the healing could begin.
It was wonderful just to be in the same room again, knowing that the fear that had haunted them for over a year was far away.
Something moved at the corner of her eye. Elizabeth glanced around to see that Miss Bingley was also fixated on Jane. She, however, looked neither content nor happy with what she saw.Miss Bingley’s expression was carefully pleasant, but her eyes sparkled like chips of broken flint.
What had caused such dislike?
Elizabeth frowned and studied her sister. Jane could not have offended Miss Bingley - she was quite incapable of it, even though Miss Bingley could doubtless be offended with the merest hint of provocation.
Mr. Bingley made a remark which startled a laugh from Jane. His face lit up at the sound, as if it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. Putting down his fork, the man leaned closer to speak to Jane again, his eyes soft and friendly.
Miss Bingley seethed.
Ah.Elizabeth thought, then wry irony raised a hand:I imagine she is regretting rescuing my sister, now! She would much rather my sister married Mr. Collins than even smiled at Bingley! But she cannot un-rescue her!
Lizzie smiled, picked up a forkful of cake, and then saw Miss Bingley’s snake-eyes whip around. They burned into Elizabeth’s like drops of molten lead hitting snow. Lizzie’s smile froze.
Miss Bingley scoffed and then looked at her glass. Like everyone else, she had been offered a selection of fruit juices, soft ciders and cordials. They were the kind of refreshments one would find in the finest homes in England. In fact, many of them were far superior. Even though she had banned alcohol from the house, Elizabeth was determined to keep an enviable cellar. The butler had used his practiced palate and superior judgement to select the finest soft drinks in the county. He paired them with the food with exquisite taste, using an apple cordial, for example, to accompany pork instead of the traditional red wine.
Miss Bingley wrinkled her nose and ran her finger around the rim of her glass. Elizabeth’s heart sank. She guessed what was coming next.
Sure enough, in a hushed, confiding voice, Miss Bingley had her say:
“Mrs. Darcy, I must say I am fascinated by your choice of refreshments. I would never have imagined such a meagre offering in such a grand house as Pemberley. Tell me, is it a country custom which I am unfamiliar with? You may find, dear, that such notions are all very well in places like Meryton, but houses like Pemberley have certain standards to maintain.”
Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open in shock. “What do you mean, madam, by making such comments?”
Caroline replied with a bright, innocent smile. Elizabeth could see teeth.
“Why, Mrs. Darcy, I am surprised you need to ask! I am merely offering you the benefit of my superior experience in such matters. I am used to homes such as these. I know that they can be quite overwhelming. Your mistake is quite forgivable, my dear!”
“It was no mistake, Miss Bingley.”
“Oh? Then pray tell me: why was there no white wine with the fish? Everyone knows that it is the only way to serve it. Are you a progressive?”
Elizabeth resisted the urge to retort. The smug expression on Miss Bingley’s face told her that sheknewthe truth. She wanted Elizabeth to admit it - to expose and humble herself and her husband rather than suffer a slight to her pride.
Glancing at Darcy, who was deep in conversation with Bingley and Jane, Elizabeth drew a steadying breath.
“I am sorry that you dislike our arrangements, Miss Bingley. This is how things arealwaysdone in Pemberley. Perhaps your experiences in other houses were all different from each other, but I am sure you would never accuse them of makingmistakes.It would be the height of bad manners to do such a thing, and it would make you look terribly ignorant, of course. I hope you will understand Pemberley much better in time, but I am here if you need to ask any questions.”
Miss Bingley’s eyes narrowed. She instinctively picked up her glass for a fortifying sip, then clicked it back down onto the table with a sniff.
