Page 11 of A Most Favourable Match

As soon as Darcy had snapped these rather self-important words to his friend, he became aware that Elizabeth Bennet herself was not far away, although hopefully occupied in her conversation with another young woman to whom they had been introduced earlier,daughter of some other prominent local family.

How much had they overheard? Asking himself this question, Darcy did feel a twinge of regret, if not guilt. He was not a vicious man, only tired and overcome by greater concerns than pleasing young ladies at a dance.

“You really are the limit, Darcy,” Bingley told him, also now spotting the young ladies and wincing for Darcy’s further offence. “Come, let us go and find my sisters and Hurst before you can do any more damage.”

As they passed Miss Elizabeth Bennet and her friend, both smiled and curtsied to Charles Bingley. Elizabeth Bennet then rose very quickly, her now-cool eyes briefly meeting Darcy’s again, as if to make sure that he knew that none of her small civility had been for him. Yes, she had definitely overheard him, and liked him no better for it.

Darcy nodded his respects to both ladies and then kept pace with Bingley in walking away. He had better be right about valuing principles above Elizabeth Bennet’s feelings. In the first place, it would be inexcusable to do otherwise.

In the second, Darcy suspected he had already made an indelible impression, and by no means a positive one.

Chapter 5

“Such elegant ladies!” exclaimed Mrs Bennet in delighted recollection of Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst. “Their dresses were finer than any other gowns at the assembly. I daresay they might even have been from Paris, and certainly from the best dressmaker in London otherwise.”

She looked around expectantly at her daughters, all gathered in the Longbourn parlour after a late breakfast and still occupied with discussion of last night’s excursion to the Meryton Assembly Rooms. Anticipating such an eventuality, Mr Bennet had gone out that morning and did not expect to return before luncheon.

Sprawled on the largest sofa, Kitty and Lydia both looked rather the worse for wear, having both imbibed more punch than was good for them yesterday. Mary, in contrast, had taken nothing but an ice, and rose healthfully early that morning to drive the rest of the household to distraction with pianoforte scales. Jane was quiet and thoughtful in an armchair, and Elizabeth energetic but ill-tempered by the window.

“Mrs Hurst’s jewels were fabulous too, were they not?” Mrs Bennet continued when she failed to get thedesired engagement from her audience. “Did you see those rubies in her necklace?”

“I did think Mr Bingley’s sisters a little overdressed for a country dance,” Elizabeth remarked. “Jane looked far better in her white muslin and grandmother’s pearls.”

Mrs Bennet was torn between frowning and smiling at this comment, unhappy at the critique of their elegant new neighbours at Netherfield Park, but pleased by the thought that Jane had outshone them with her natural beauty.

“Yes, well, my Jane always looks well,” their mother said at last, a little crossly. “But Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst were very much the picture of fashion, and we were lucky that they graced us with their presence. Now that they are at Netherfield Park, I look forward to knowing them better.”

Elizabeth restrained herself from commenting that she thought this unlikely to happen. Remembering how both ladies had looked down their noses at Mrs Bennet’s slightly vulgar manners, she doubted they would cultivate a close acquaintance with Longbourn.

“I’m not sure that his sisters will take to country life, but Mr Bingley himself seemed a most amiable man,” commented Elizabeth tactfully, wishing not to goad her mother too much. “You both danced with him too, did not you, Kitty and Lydia?”

Lydia only grunted in response, and Kitty nodded.

“Mr Bingley dances well enough, but I prefer LordKeeble, and so does Lydia,” said Kitty. “You may keep him for yourself, Lizzy.”

“Yes,” said Mrs Bennet decidedly. “Kitty is right. You ought to set your cap at Mr Bingley, Lizzy. Lady Lucas tells me that he has five thousand pounds a year. It is nothing compared to Lord Grantchester, of course, or Lord Keeble, when you take into account his family connections. Still, you cannot all be so lucky as Jane.”

“I am not going to be setting my cap at anyone, Mother,” Elizabeth returned calmly but firmly. “I was merely passing comment on Mr Bingley’s good manners and sociability.”

Mrs Bennet harrumphed with indignation.

“You will end an old maid, Lizzy, and then what will become of you, I’d like to know. When Mr Collins turns us all out into the street and —”

“Mr Bingley is certainly preferable to his joyless friend, Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth interrupted, having no wish to hear her mother’s familiar tirade yet again.

“Why, yes!…Oh yes, what an awful, rude man, Lizzy. First, Mr Darcy slights my Jane’s engagement, and then he refuses to dance with any of my daughters — ha! Lord Grantchester and Lord Keeble and Mr Bingley paid my girls the attention and respect a gentleman should. Who does Mr Darcy think he is to snub us so?”

“Not everyone enjoys dances, Mother,” Jane spoke up in mild reproof. “We ought not to judge Mr Darcy on the basis of a single evening. His character cannot be so very black, given the devotion of his friends, can it? Lord Grantchester assures me that Mr Darcy is verymuch liked and respected in London.”

“Well, that is in London,” Mrs Bennet said with a decisive nod, as though that statement explained everything. Her expression remained entirely dissatisfied. “Mary and Mr Bennet do not like dances either, but they do not spoil them for others.”

“Yes, I was glad Mary hid away with Father in the sitting room all night, instead of subjecting us to her usual gloomy lectures,” Lydia said, and then giggled. “Mr Darcy could have gone and sat with them, and they could all have been miserable together.”

Kitty shared her younger sister’s merriment, but Mary looked severely at both of them over the tops of her spectacles.

“I was not at all miserable,” she retorted crossly. “I had a most instructive evening reading one of Fordyce’s Sermons and studying the orchestration of a Bach fugue I want to learn.”

“See?” Lydia groaned and rolled her eyes. “You are quite as dull as Mr Darcy, who could not even bring himself to smile long enough to congratulate his friend on his engagement to Jane.”