“Mrs. Bennet,” said Mr. Bingley upon gaining the room. “Please allow me to introduce my friend’s sister to your acquaintance.”
“Of course, Mr. Bingley,” said Mrs. Bennet, her tone approaching pleasure, “we should be happy to accept.”
The introductions proceeded, and the Bennets welcomed their visitors, and for a time, little else passed between them.Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her welcome, and Kitty and Lydia, curious about this girl their age who had appeared in their midst, did their best to draw her out. Their manners were, of course, boisterous, showing little restraint. Miss Darcy was shocked by their entreaties, but she showed little other reaction. She also responded with nothing more than monosyllabic answers.
Then Mrs. Bennet took charge of the situation. “Miss Darcy,” said she, clucking like a mother hen, “you must come and sit next to me, my dear, for I am eager to come to know you. Come, my dear.”
Though Miss Darcy shot a pleading look at her brother, she acquiesced and allowed Mrs. Bennet to lead her away. It was fortunate that Mrs. Bennet did not require a response, for Miss Darcy did not offer one. The conversation existed entirely on Mrs. Bennet’s side for a time. This was when Elizabeth noted some softening of Miss Darcy’s manners.
“I have been in London of late,” said Miss Darcy in answer to Mrs. Bennet’s persistent questions. “Usually, my brother and I return to his estate in Derbyshire after the season, and sometimes we do not return to town until the following season.”
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes found Mr. Darcy, who was watching the interaction closely. “This year, Mr. Darcy attended Mr. Bingley at Netherfield.”
“Yes,” replied Miss Darcy.
“And where is your brother’s estate?” asked Mrs. Bennet. “I have never been to the north, but surely there are some landmarks that will place it.”
“It is east of the peaks,” replied Miss Darcy. “Near the market town of Lambton.”
“Lambton,” said Mrs. Bennet, as if testing the sound of it on her tongue. “Lizzy, is Lambton not the name of the town your aunt talks about?”
Surprised, Elizabeth nodded. “I believe it is.”
Miss Darcy regarded them curiously—her brother appeared suspicious. “Your aunt lives in Lambton?”
“No, Aunt Gardiner lives in London,” replied Elizabeth. “When she was a girl, she lived in Lambton, but she has not returned in many years.”
“Then perhaps we have mutual acquaintances living there,” said Georgiana, looking to her brother.
“It is possible,” conceded Mr. Darcy, though Elizabeth did not think he said it with any enthusiasm.
“Then perhaps you may judge for yourself,” said Mrs. Bennet. “My brother and sister join us for Christmas every year. If you remain through the season, you shall make their acquaintance.”
That Mr. Darcy was not eager to be introduced to a tradesman and his wife was not hidden from anyone who cared to look. Miss Darcy chose that moment to retreat into silence, further proving the supposition that she liked the notion no better than her brother.
Mrs. Bennet continued to prattle on, drawing only murmurs from Miss Darcy when she answered at all. Elizabeth could not make the girl out at all. On the one hand, she had this picture in her mind, the one Mr. Wickham had offered, of Miss Darcy as a haughty, proud sort of girl. But Miss Darcy displayed no haughtiness that Elizabeth could detect, only a reserve that hinted at discomfort, but for what, Elizabeth could not fathom.
When Kitty and Lydia drew near, Miss Darcy grew even more withdrawn if that was even possible, rarely offering even the slightest hint of an answer. Lydia grew tired of this after a time, and Elizabeth thought she was on the verge of delivering some caustic comment. A warning look from her mother made Lydia reconsider whatever she was about to say. Thereafter, the girls sat close together whispering, though their usual giggles were absent.
There was something about Miss Darcy that suggested she was ill at ease, though Elizabeth could not divine any reason for it. Mrs. Bennet spoke to her, and though Miss Darcy’s responses were brief, she was paying attention, even allowing a slight smile to grace her features on occasion. Elizabeth could not quite make her out. It was this, as much as anything else, that prompted her to speak to the girl when the opportunity arose.
“It is good to finally make your acquaintance, Miss Darcy,” said she to the girl, offering a warm smile and wondering how she would respond. “Having heard so much of you, I almost feel like I know you.”
Miss Darcy’s responding gaze was uncertain. “Williamdoesspeak of me—we are the closest of siblings.”
Eyes finding Mr. Darcy, noting how he watched them, Elizabeth turned back to Miss Darcy. “Your brother spoke of you once or twice. But Miss Bingley had much to say in praise of your abilities.”
The slight moue of distaste was unmistakable. “Yes, I can imagine what Miss Bingley had to say.”
Elizabeth paused, wondering what she could make of this. The temptation was there to assume Miss Darcy was so haughty that even her brother’s friends could not meet her approval, but Elizabeth was certain there was something more. Not caring for Miss Bingley’s brand of civility, Elizabeth could well understand if Miss Darcy saw through her. It did not show more discernment exactly, for Miss Bingley was rather blatant—it did improve her opinion of the girl, if only a little.
What ensued was at best a one-sided conversation, akin to Mrs. Bennet’s efforts to know Miss Darcy. Elizabeth did her best to draw the girl out, but saw little success. Miss Darcy responded but little, saying nothing that Elizabeth did not provoke, and appeared disinclined to give anyone in the family consequence.Elizabeth had almost determined that she was a lost cause when something happened to change her perspective.
“Mr. Bingley seems to be getting on with Jane very well,” commented Elizabeth, more with a desire to provoke something—anything—from the girl, and recalling that Miss Bingley had set her up as a rival for Mr. Bingley’s affections. “It has always been thus. Though it may be disappointing for some, he seems to have found his happiness.”
“I am most happy for Mr. Bingley,” said Miss Darcy in a small voice, more than anything Elizabeth had elicited before. “He is an excellent man. Your sister will be happy with him.”
Elizabeth regarded her, wondering how to coax her to reveal more. “I beg your pardon, Miss Darcy. Would it be improper for me to ask you to clarify? Miss Bingley shared some... comments aboutherexpectations.”
