Mr Bingley and Jane approached, his smile as eager as his words: “Did I just miss hearing a joke? I dearly love to laugh!”
Mr Darcy waved his hand. “I am sorry, Bingley; you are too late, for a lengthy build-up is necessary to understand the point of the jest. But please enjoy your dance with Miss Elizabeth. I am certain she will find a way to give you occasion for laughter.”
With those words, Mr Darcy offered his arm to Jane and moved back towards the dancers.
Three
Bingley crowed to his friend, “What a night, Darce! I never met so many pleasant people, nor so many lovely ladies.”
“I have the feeling that this is an exaggeration, friend. In London, when you meet and dance with three to five times the number of people we saw tonight, there must be at least as many pleasant people and lovely ladies.
“You cannot bring me down with your logic! I may have met the love of my life.”
Bingley was surprised to see Darcy wince a bit, and he said, “I say, is your headache still bothering you? Deuced wretched things, headaches!”
“It is a bit better,” Darcy said. “I am certain I will get up in the morning, pain free. At any rate, you referred to the love of your life, and I am curious. Could you mean Miss Bennet?”
“Yes, naturally, who else?” The two men exited their carriage and entered the Netherfield manor house, handing over their coats, hats, and gloves to the waiting servants. “Would you like some food, Darcy? Or tea, or brandy?”
“Any of that you wish for, Bingley, I will join you.”
Darcy, rubbing his forehead, settled into one of the chairs as his host rang for food and tea. When Bingley flung himself intoanother chair to wait for the supper he had ordered, Darcy said, “All the Bennet ladies are handsome.”
Bingley laughed a bit and used his hands to show the ladies’ relative beauty. “Here is Miss Mary,” he said, holding his hand at heart level. “Here are most of the young ladies of the world”—his hand rose to shoulder level. “Here are Miss Elizabeth, Miss Kitty, and Miss Lydia,” he said, raising his hand to the top of his head, “and way up here is Miss Jane Bennet.” At that point, he raised himself up on his toes, extended his arm as high as it could go, waving his hand as if he could not quite reach the level he aimed for, and then he grinned and gave a little jump. “As you see from my demonstration, she is beyond my reach.”
Darcy chuckled and shook his head. “I very much doubt that Miss Bennet is beyond your reach, Bingley. If you doubt me, you could call on her tomorrow morning, and I could go along for support, and we can see how she responds to you.”
“Splendid idea, Darce. I am shocked you came up with it, since sheep and wheat are your areas of wisdom, not the ladies.”
Darcy sighed. “I warrant you are correct, but I do know one thing about ‘the ladies.’”
Bingley grinned, expecting a tease. “What is that?”
Bingley was startled that Darcy stood up, a stern look on his face. “I think that ladies deserve more consideration than a comparison of their person, especially when such a comparison is expressed in so simplistic, almost rude, a manner.” He jabbed at the air at various levels. “I also happen to think that not every human would rank relative beauty the same way.” His eyes narrowed. “And Miss Mary is not plain.”
Bingley was shocked. Where had all this passion come from?
“Do you like Miss Mary?” he asked.
Darcy frowned. “Of course not. I do notknowMiss Mary.”
Two servants entered the drawing room with trays, and Bingley looked over the cold collation, breads, and cakes withsatisfaction. Before getting a plate, he turned back to Darcy with a sincere grimace, saying, “I apologise for my comparison. When I think of how Miss Bennet would feel about my words, had she seen and heard me, I am convinced she would be angry. That fills me with shame. In this case, Darcy, you have demonstrated greater knowledge of the ladies.”
Darcy just nodded.
Bingley said, “Come, eat with me!”
The morning after the assembly,Elizabeth woke early, as usual, donned one of her older dresses, pinned up her hair in a simple style, and fetched her pelisse and shawl. On her way out the door for a ramble, she passed through the kitchen, as was her custom.
“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth,” Cook said. “I made too many rolls today, so ’tis best you take two.”
Elizabeth did not believe a word the beloved servant said. Cook seemed to be on an endless campaign to fatten her up. She smiled fondly and said, “Thank you, I will.”
As she slathered the warm rolls with butter and marmalade, Cook asked, “How was the gatherin’ last night, miss?”
Elizabeth laughed. She had never known another servant like Cook. The older woman had a reputation among the servants for never gossiping, but she was quite motherly towards Elizabeth—to the extent that she would seem to most people to be overly friendly and forward with her. But the fact was, she only behaved that way when she and Elizabeth were alone.
When her mother first hired Cook, around four and a half years ago, Elizabeth wondered why the woman was so veryproper with everyone else but treated her—at least when nobody else was near enough to hear—as if she were a beloved niece. Eventually Elizabeth decided that Cook saw that Elizabeth’s mother almost constantly criticised and scolded her. Elizabeth wasalways, according to Mama, dirtying her hems, “ruining” her complexion, wearing out her half-boots, reading too much, spending too many hours outdoors, laughing too often, and speaking too boldly. Elizabeth decided that Cook must have felt that she needed some mothering.
