That evening, after the two Bennet sisters enjoyed trays in their sitting room, Jane Bennet joined the rest of the party in residence for the first time during her stay. She knew she was well enough to return home on the morrow, but when Elizabeth had raised the issue, Jane told her she still felt weak and it would take another two to three days. Elizabeth had not been pleased, but she would endure even Mr. Darcy for her beloved sister’s wellbeing.
“Welcome, Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth,” Bingley received the sisters warmly.
Elizabeth smiled as he guided Jane to a sofa near the fire and away from the door. Before Mr. Bingley sat next to her sister, he called a footman over and instructed him to build the fire higher so there would be no chill in the air.
For Jane’s part, she was not happy as the seat her host showed her to was as far from Mr. Darcy as possible. As she could not refuse, she made sure her serene façade was firmly in place.
Darcy did not miss Miss Bennet’s momentary disappointment when she was not seated anywhere near him. He had taken to sitting in a solitary armchair, far from the other seats, that gave him a good view of the room.
While Miss Bingley was still mistress of Netherfield Park, and after Darcy had chosen the same solitary seat each time they entered the drawing room, she ordered the furniture rearranged. Darcy noticed it, and immediately applied to his friend, who ordered the housekeeper and butler to return the furniture to its original configuration, stating no one was authorised to move Netherfield’s furniture in the future without his approval.
Darcy smiled inwardly, remembering the look on Miss Bingley’s face when she entered the drawing room. She made for a chair she expected was positioned near Darcy. However, to her consternation, the seating was exactly as it had always been. She had started to shriek for the butler, until Bingley had informed her of his orders regarding rearrangement of furniture. The shrew marched out of the drawing room and up the stairs, thereafter, slamming her door. Soon the sounds of breaking bric-a-brac could be heard from within Miss Bingley’s chambers.
While thoughts of the thwarting of Miss Bingley’s ridiculous plans were amusing, he was not happy at the look of anger Miss Elizabeth directed at him when she entered behind her sister. She sat as far from him as possible, picked up a book, and never looked in his direction again.
Darcy had not wanted to raise her expectations; obviously he had succeeded in that, but it was never part of his plan to provoke her open dislike. When he stood to refresh his coffee, before Miss Bingley could attempt to do it for him, he walked past Miss Elizabeth. He asked what she was reading and was met with stony silence.
‘Good,’ Jane told herself, ‘Lizzy hates him. Any admiration he feels for her will be gone soon.’
A little later, Miss Bingley initiated a discussion about the attributes required for an accomplished woman. It was a transparent attempt to highlight her abilities versus those of the Bennets—in her mind every requirement she described as necessary for an accomplished woman was something in which she believed she excelled.
Elizabeth fumed when she suspected Mr. Darcy was mocking her. ‘Extensive reading an accomplishment he says, that was a direct slight to me as he knows I like to read,’ Elizabeth told herself. ‘He is one of those men who want a mindless woman without a single original thought of her own. Why does the man stare at me all the time? He must be looking at me to find fault!’
Jane was almost certain Mr. Darcy intended to pay her sister a compliment, but Lizzy was so convinced of his disdain for her that Jane could see Lizzy thought he was insulting her again.
Even though Lizzy obviously hated the man, he still seemed to be attracted to her, so as far as Jane was concerned, she had succeeded in but half of her aim.
Miss Bingley, seeking Mr. Darcy’s attention, stood and started to take a turn about the room. Mr. Darcy still steadfastly refused to look at her. She decided that what Mr. Darcy needed was to see her next to Miss Eliza, then he would see for himself how the hoyden paled in comparison to herself.
“Miss Eliza Bennet, will you not join me in taking a turn around the room?” Miss Bingley asked.
As Miss Bingley was no longer the hostess, Elizabeth did not feel the need to accede to the supercilious woman’s request. “As you know I amsucha great walker, Miss Bingley; I have had more than enough exercise today. I appreciate your invitation, but respectfully decline.”
Miss Bingley, with a sour look on her face, was about to retort with some barb when there was a positive response to her seeking a partner. “As part of my recovery, it would be good for me to walk a little bit, if I may join you, Miss Bingley,” Jane stated as she stood up. There was no way to refuse without making herself look bad in Mr. Darcy’s eyes, so Miss Bingley accepted, albeit ungraciously. Both walkers were disappointed.
When there was a possibility Miss Elizabeth would be one of the walkers, Darcy had stopped reading and was waiting with keen anticipation to watch her lithe figure as she made circuits of the room. As soon as she refused, he lost interest and returned to his book. Miss Bennet joining Miss Bingley did not even pique his interest for a moment.
As the two women walked, Miss Bingley tried to attract Mr. Darcy’s attention, but to no avail. Less than ten minutes later, using Miss Bennet’s recent illness as an excuse, Miss Bingley abandoned her attempt to show herself off favourably to Mr. Darcy.
By the time Jane sat down, she was convinced that for whatever reason, regardless of her beauty, Mr. Darcy was not interested in her at all. She was determined to have him; it would have to be by way of a compromise.
Her mother always told her all she needed was her beauty to get anything she desired, but Mr. Darcy seemed as immune to her charms as he was to those of Miss Bingley. The only one he would look at was Lizzy.
Jane did not understand why her mother’s advice had not worked in this case, but she would still have him, nevertheless. The how was not as important as succeeding and becoming the wife of an extremely wealthy man.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
George Wickham was at his wits’ end. He was being hunted by one of theSpaniard’smen. Juan AntonioÁlvarez, knownas theSpaniard, was not one to allow a debt to remain unpaid. Wickham did not know what to do; he was out of options.
Mrs. Karen Younge no longer welcomed him to her home or her bed. He owed her too much money and his sweet words were not the currency she wanted. Wickham had tried begging, but Mrs. Younge had been adamant. Unless he paid her the full five and thirty pounds he owed her, she did not want to see him.
On the point of despair, Wickham spied Jack Denny from Lambton. He had never trifled with Denny’s sister and he hoped the man was unaware of his other exploits in the area. Denny was wearing the scarlet coat of an army man.
“Denny,” Wickham clapped the man on the back like a long-lost friend, “it has been far too long.”
“Wickham, you old reprobate, what are you doing here in the bowels of London?” Denny asked.
“Unfortunately, I find myself down on my luck and looking for an occupation,” Wickham told the man, doing what he did best, bending and twisting the truth.
