Page 76 of A Most Unwelcome Acquaintance

“He might, if she asked him.”

Mrs. Bennet interrupted to tell Bingley that Lydia possessed the finest spirits of any girl in Hertfordshire. Bingley agreed, which pleased Mrs. Bennet and made Elizabeth lower her eyes.

Darcy saw the effort behind her composure. Rather than deny her family, excuse them, or pretend not to hear, she endured what she could not correct and intervened when she must.

He had mistaken that endurance for indifference at the assembly.

Jane asked Louisa about the book they had discussed before. Bingley joined them, though he soon admitted he had not read it.

“Then you cannot have an opinion about the ending,” Jane said.

“I can after you tell me what happened.”

Mrs. Bennet began describing Jane’s popularity in Meryton, but Elizabeth turned back to Louisa.

“Did you think the heroine’s decision sensible?”

“No,” Louisa said. “She mistook stubbornness for principle.”

A few minutes later, Jane searched for a word and stopped. Elizabeth supplied it without taking over the conversation, then drew Lydia into a question about music before their mother could resume her praise.

Darcy noticed how often Elizabeth’s attention moved toward someone else. Jane received protection without feeling protected. Lydia received correction without public humiliation. Even Mrs. Bennet escaped the full consequence of her own remarks because Elizabeth redirected the room before impatience hardened into ridicule.

He had judged Elizabeth by her family, and each visit made that judgment harder to defend.

Bingley rose to fetch a volume from the library, and Jane followed Louisa to the pianoforte. Mrs. Bennet discussed local game with Hurst, leaving Caroline free to cross the room.

She stopped beside Darcy. “Miss Elizabeth appears determined to turn Netherfield into a farmyard.”

Sarah lay beneath Elizabeth’s chair, her chin on her paws.

“The dog entered with Bingley.”

“And remains with Miss Eliza.”

“At his invitation.”

Caroline’s smile tightened. “You have become her defender.”

“No.”

“You correct every observation made against her.”

“I correct what is false.”

“Her mother is loud, her youngest sister speaks without restraint, and the dog is inside the house. Which part have I mistaken?”

Darcy looked toward Elizabeth, whose head lifted though she continued speaking to Lydia.

“Nothing you have named,” he said. “Only the purpose for which you named it.”

Caroline stared at him.

Elizabeth turned and met his eyes without gratitude, and the omission unsettled him more than it should have.

Why should she thank him when he had defended no principle she could not defend herself? Worse, he had done so after judging her by the same family Caroline now used against her.

Bingley returned with the book and broke the silence.