Page 111 of A Most Unwelcome Acquaintance

The second disaster sat beside Elizabeth and spoke little.

Darcy had said nothing to invite Caroline's concern. He did not lean toward Elizabeth and neglect the rest of the table. He answered Mrs. Bennet when she addressed him, Bennet when he made a dry observation, and Mary when she asked whether Derbyshire parish music differed much from Hertfordshire. Yet his restraint had changed its object. He was not avoiding Elizabeth. Worse, he steered the conversation away from details while his attention returned to her.

Caroline could not bear it. Hertfordshire was tolerable while it remained a novelty she could manage. She enjoyed the local calls, the attention paid to Netherfield, and the ease of presiding among people she considered beneath her. Now she could no longer praise Jane and dismiss her, Elizabeth was impossible to overlook, Bingley’s attachment had escaped her control, and Darcy, worst of all, continued to notice Elizabeth.

“I wonder,” Caroline said, “whether country society is always so quick to form attachments. In London one sees more people and is less inclined to settle upon one.”

“That may be,” Bennet said. “In the country, we cannot forget one another in a crowd. We must either like our neighbors or remember why we do not.”

“A severe alternative,” Darcy said.

“Not severe enough, perhaps. It has never cured my wife of inviting half of them to dinner.”

Mrs. Bennet protested, Bingley declared that he counted himself fortunate in her hospitality, and Caroline looked as if hospitality was another of Hertfordshire's offenses.

“I am sure,” Louisa said before her sister could answer, “that every neighborhood has its inconveniences. We have found many kindnesses here.”

Bingley turned to her with gratitude. “Indeed, we have.”

Caroline’s color rose. Louisa had done worse than oppose her by accepting the possibility Caroline refused to admit: Charles’s happiness might matter more than their plans, and they might no longer judge the Bennets as temporary acquaintances before returning to town.

Elizabeth noticed the exchange without understanding all of it: Caroline expected support and received none, Hurst remained occupied with his dinner, and Louisa offered courtesy, which Elizabeth suspected Caroline regarded as desertion.

The dinner continued. Mary spoke once on the moral dangers of flattery, but the next course arrived before she could enlarge upon them. Lydia whispered to Kitty that Mr. Denny's new sash was finer than any in the room, a statement which she could not prove and did not need to. Kitty answered without spirit, although Elizabeth saw her glance toward Mr. Darcy, then away again as if she feared he might know too much. He did not look at her, and his restraint was another thing Elizabeth did not wish to admire.

When the ladies withdrew, Caroline took immediate possession of the sofa nearest the fire and drew Louisa beside her. Mrs. Bennet sat with Jane, wishing to discuss nothing but Bingley's appetite, which she considered promising. Elizabeth moved to the pianoforte with Mary, to escape her mother's satisfaction and prevent Mary from choosing anything that would turn the evening into a sermon.

“You see it,” Caroline said to Louisa, low enough that Mrs. Bennet would not hear, but not low enough to escape Elizabeth where she stood near the instrument. “You cannot pretend not to.”

“I see that Charles is happy.”

“Happy? He is bewitched by a pretty face and a manner so artless it is almost refined.”

Louisa's fan opened and closed once. “Jane Bennet is beautiful, well behaved, and kind. Charles has done worse than admire such qualities.”

“Admire, yes. Marry, no.”

“He has not asked our permission.”

“He may yet need our influence.”

“For what purpose? To make him unhappy?”

Caroline stared at her. “You speak as if the connection were acceptable.”

“I speak as if Charles is not a child.”

Elizabeth turned a page of Mary's music without reading it. She should not listen, but moving away would reveal that she had heard them.

Caroline's voice sharpened. “And Miss Elizabeth? Is that also to be accepted?”

Louisa waited to answer. “Mr. Darcy's choices are not ours to arrange.”

“You cannot think he is serious.”

“I wish I knew.”

“Then observe him.”