“That man will be the death of me,” muttered Mrs. Bennet as she inspected her younger daughters for any flaws in their appearance.
Elizabeth avoided looking at Jane, knowing she might burst into laughter. The question of who would be the death of whom was a subject much debated in the Bennet family, for Mr. Bennet had echoed Mrs. Bennet’s sentiments many times.
Moments later, the Bennet ladies entered the carriage for the brief journey to Meryton. The winter air chilled them all as they bundled in blankets and pelisses for warmth, the heated bricks by their feet helping to ward off the chill. The moon was shining in all her splendor, bathing the road in shimmering silver light, allowing Elizabeth to look out on the fields of her home. Elizabeth had long loved Longbourn, but for the first time she wondered what life in another place might look like. That it was much too early for such thoughts she knew, but they invaded her mind, nonetheless.
By the time they reached Meryton, Lydia was complaining about her discomfort and had started bickering with Kitty about who was taking up more space. Mrs. Bennet added to the cacophony by hushing the girls and complaining about her nerves, while Jane, Elizabeth, and Mary kept silent, looking out the window or exchanging significant glances full of meaning.
The hall was bright with the cheery flickering of candles, two fires roaring in the matching fireplaces at either end of the hall. Though Elizabeth looked about when they entered, she could see no sign of the Netherfield party. Though she spoke to several friends, Charlotte’s absence—the evening being the first assembly since she had married and gone into Kent—was like an open wound in her heart.
Perhaps fifteen minutes before the dancing was to begin, Mr. Bingley stepped into the hall leading his family and friends. Elizabeth was struck at once by the tight expression hedisplayed, one that suggested he was not at all happy. Though Elizabeth was at first uncertain, a moment later she understood—Miss Bingley entered wearing a face like a thundercloud.
Almost of their own accord, Elizabeth’s eyes found Mr. Darcy, trying to understand the meaning behind the woman’s sudden appearance. Miss Bingley, she noticed, was walking close to the gentleman, though he wasnotescorting her. In truth, Elizabeth was certain he wished for escape, his hands clasped behind his back to avoid Miss Bingley’s claws fastening upon them with the intention of never letting go.
“Miss Bingley!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet, her delight overcoming her surprise. “How excellent it is to see you again! We had begun to wonder when you would join your brother.”
The way Miss Bingley scowled, it was nigh impossible to suppose the woman appreciated her present location. Even Mrs. Bennet appeared taken aback, though she made a valiant attempt to engage her in conversation. This distraction allowed Mr. Darcy to approach.
“Miss Elizabeth,” said he, bowing to her curtsey. “May I say how enchanting you are tonight?”
“Flattery, Mr. Darcy?” asked Elizabeth, arching an eyebrow.
“Nothing of the sort,” said the gentleman. “When I speak of you, I always tell the absolute truth.”
“Miss Bingley’s presence is most curious, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, opting to move straight to the point.
“You are no more surprised than we all were when we returned to Netherfield.”
Elizabeth regarded him, trying to understand what he was not saying. “Then Mr. Bingley had no notion of his sister’s imminent arrival.”
“None at all,” replied Mr. Darcy.
“Can I assume that matters at Netherfield are more... discordant than they were yesterday?”
Mr. Darcy chuckled. “Miss Elizabeth, it appears you have a gift for understatement that I might not have guessed, considering how forthright you have always been.”
“It is nothing, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, waving his comment away. “There is a time for candor and a time for caution.”
“Yes, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy, “Miss Bingley is not best pleased with us all. I shall not spread stories or speak of my friend’s sister in a derogatory manner, but she made her displeasure clear the moment she was in our company.”
“And your response?” asked Elizabeth.
“If you are asking aboutme,” replied Mr. Darcy, “I have nothing to fear from her displeasure. For Bingley’s part, he was clear about his wishes and his expectations. Whether Miss Bingley accepts it is yet uncertain, but she does not now misunderstand him.”
“I doubt she misunderstood him before,” ventured Elizabeth.
“No, but she may still have thought she could rule him.” Mr. Darcy smiled. “She may not yet have surrendered to the inevitable, but she at least knows that he will not be so easily controlled as she thought.”
Elizabeth allowed her gaze to drift to Miss Bingley, who was now standing with Jane and Mr. Bingley, and Miss Bingley’s frequent glances in her direction did not escape her attention. Mr. Bingley was directing most of his comments to Jane, which did not please Miss Bingley, but she did not appear willing to resist it either. As Elizabeth had long understood the woman, that she would abandon her opposition to Mr. Bingley’s interest in Jane was no surprise, not when she sensed the unraveling of her ambitions with respect to Mr. Darcy.
“Then that must suffice for the moment,” said Elizabeth at length. “Let us discuss something else, Mr. Darcy, for I do not wish to focus on such objectionable subjects.”
A grin was the gentleman’s response. “I cannot agree more, Miss Elizabeth.”
THOUGH DARCY WISHEDto have little to do with Miss Bingley, the woman was not about to allow him to speak with Miss Elizabeth unimpeded. Just moments after they turned to other subjects, Miss Bingley decided she could no longer stand idly by.
“Miss Eliza,” said she in a condescending tone. “I see you are here tonight.”
“It is customary for us all to attend assemblies, Miss Bingley,” said Miss Elizabeth, not appearing put out by the woman’s behavior in the slightest. “As I have made clear, I enjoy dancing.”
