Darcy raised his eyes to hers and found her watching him with renewed interest. He was not ignorant of the reason for it. Caroline Bingley was quick to observe any alteration in his manner, and quicker still to assign it a cause favourable to herself.
“I beg your pardon, it was no one of any significance,” he said shortly.
Miss Bingley looked rather curious at this, but thankfully let her inquiries drop. Conversation resumed, though Darcy remained conscious of its course only in fragments. Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst soon returned to the subject of the Netherfield ball, and Darcy, though disinclined to revisit the evening, could not entirely avoid it.
“It was a most trying affair,” Mrs Hurst declared. “I have seldom known an assembly so ill regulated.”
“Indeed,” Miss Bingley agreed. “I cannot imagine how such behaviour is endured. One expects a certain standard, even in the country.”
Bingley looked uncomfortable. “I thought everyone enjoyed themselves,” he protested. “There was a great deal of dancing.”
“There was a great deal of everything,” Miss Bingley replied pointedly. “Noise, familiarity, and dreadful breaches in propriety.”
Darcy listened closely but said nothing. He had already reproached himself for allowing their earlier criticisms to influence his judgement. He would not repeat the mistake by encouraging them now.
Miss Bingley, however, was not easily deterred. “Miss Bennet’s family,” she continued, “seem quite incapable of restraint. One can scarcely blame her for it, poor thing, when she has been brought up with no proper example of genteel behaviour.”
Darcy felt a flicker of irritation, sharp and unexpected. “I believe Miss Bennet conducts herself with perfect propriety,” he said. “As does Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Miss Bingley stared at him in astonishment. “Of course, Mr Darcy. I should never say anything against Miss Bennet herself. Such a sweet country girl! Though one cannot deny that the younger sisters are sadly lacking in decorum.”
Darcy inclined his head. “Even so, I do not think it fair to hold Miss Bennet accountable for their conduct. Nor yet Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Mrs Hurst laughed lightly. “You are generous to a fault, my dear Mr Darcy.”
Bingley seized upon the interruption with clear relief. “Jane Bennet,” he said, “is certainly one of the most agreeable women I have met. I cannot imagine anyone finding fault with her.”
Miss Bingley smiled indulgently. “She is very amiable.”
“And very pretty,” Bingley added.
Mrs Hurst exchanged a look with her sister. “Pretty, yes,” she said. “Though beauty alone is not everything.”
“Certainly not,” Miss Bingley agreed. “Connections, for instance, are of significant importance.”
Darcy shifted in his chair. “I see no reason to discuss Miss Bennet’s connections as though they were a defect in her character.” He was conscious almost at once that his defence had been offered with more warmth than he intended. He had not spoken to provoke, nor even to persuade, but merely to correct an injustice. That the correction should have come so readily was unsettling. He had once been far more willing to consider such distinctions unimportant.
He found himself recalling Elizabeth Bennet as she had appeared at the ball, neither anxious to shine nor indifferent to the company, but observant, composed, and quietly alert. She had borne her family’s failings with a mixture of humour and patience that had surprised him at the time, and which surprised him still when he reflected upon it. That others should judge her by circumstances over which she had no control now struck him as both careless and unfair.
Miss Bingley’s tone, which he had once accepted without reflection, irritated him more than he cared to acknowledge. There was an eagerness in it he did not like, a desire to diminish others in order to elevate herself. It sat poorly with the air of elegant civility she sought to cultivate. Darcy had long valued good sense and discretion. He was forced to admit that Elizabeth Bennet possessed both, even where her situation did not recommend her.
With considerable discomfort, Darcy became aware that his opinions were shifting not by argument, but by observation. He had not reasoned himself into the change. It had occurred gradually, through a series of small impressions he had neither sought nor resisted. That such impressions should now influence his conduct unsettled him more than any open disagreement might have done.
Miss Bingley did not seem to appreciate his defence of the Bennets. Her smile sharpened, making Darcy wonder if he had betrayed too much. “I meant only that one must consider suitability in all its aspects. Unsuitable acquaintances can become most uncomfortable.”
Bingley frowned slightly. “I believe I am quite capable of judging my own comfort.”
Miss Bingley said nothing further, though her displeasure was evident. She soon turned the conversation toward plans for Christmas, speaking with enthusiasm of London, its assemblies, and theadvantages of spending the season among friends of equal standing.
“I cannot imagine remaining in the country through the winter,” she said. “It is insupportably dull.”
Mrs Hurst concurred, while Mr Hurst, who typically showed little interest in any subject beyond his plate, muttered agreement without lifting his eyes.
Supper concluded at last, and the ladies withdrew. Darcy remained with Bingley and Mr Hurst, though his attention wandered as soon as the door closed behind them. The image of Elizabeth Bennet returned, unbidden and unwelcome.
As neither Darcy nor Bingley wished for a long conference with Mr Hurst, they did not wait long before following the ladies. To Darcy’s surprise, Miss Bingley did not propose a game of cards, nor yet slyly hint that she might play the pianoforte, if he wished. Instead, she urged her sister to the instrument. Darcy watched the manoeuvre with considerable curiosity. It was not like Miss Bingley to miss an opportunity of displaying her accomplishments to him. She likely had some plan in mind which would be better suited by having Mrs Hurst play.
It was not a quarter of an hour before he was proved correct. Miss Bingley then approached with an air of great significance. “May I speak with you?”she asked.
