Page 17 of Eavesdroppers Never Hear
Darcy let out a bigger than average sigh, accompanied by a ferocious frown.
“I managed to traverse about fifteen yards—perhaps where Mrs Long is—before I overheard, ‘10,000 a year and probably more’, along with various other descriptions of my wealth, fine estate, relative handsomeness, etcetera. Naturally, I would not be quite so handsome if I were not so rich.”
All three sisters stared down in chagrin, realising the likely source of that bit of eavesdropping, and subsequently realising it was not only Mrs Bennet who was gossiping. They had been hearing almost the same words from Charlotte at the same time (though more discreetly). In fact, the gentleman would have heard substantially the same from any matron chosen at random and half the gentlemen.
Mary said, “I admit, that was awful. Is it always so?”
“Yes… but pray allow me to finish. I went another fifteen paces before I overheard, ‘he has already inherited’. I believe that was from Lady Lucas, and I was unimpressed, to say the least, that someone could speak about my parents’ death as abenefit.”
The sisters were silent, unable to produce a retort for some time, while Darcy was ignoring them in deep reflection.
He finally finished, “I believe I was introduced to the Bennets half an hour later.”
Elizabeth said, “I am more astonished by your apology than ever. I can assure you that I would never do such a thing if I were simply returning like with like.”
“Ah, but it was it like for like?”
“How so?” asked Elizabeth gently, genuinely perplexed.
“I was repaying commonplace gossip that happens in every single society I enter, with specific cruelty.”
“I no longer think it was cruelty, though I did at the time,” Elizabeth practically whispered. “It was perhaps a bit mean-spirited, but it would have to descend considerably to reach the level of cruelty. May I ask why you are disinclined to dance? Mr Bingley is obviously a much more gregarious man, but it seems to me you could have danced with one or two of the ladies without a great deal of difficulty. You resisted the temptation to step on the Bingley sisters’ gowns or stomp their feet, so you are light enough on your feet. It could not have been so difficult to pick out a few wallflowers to dance with. I could name you five who would not in a hundred years believe you meant anything by it.”
Darcy let out a great heaving sigh. “Do you want even more whining?”
Elizabeth laughed nervously. “You could search the width and breadth of England without finding any three ladies more accustomed to whining. We only hope you did not hear our mother before you arrived.”
“I make it a point to not hear Mrs Bennet,” Darcy said with a chuckle, echoed by the ladies.
Elizabeth looked pointedly.
“Have you any idea how many ways there are to compromise a gentleman in an unfamiliar ballroom?”
The sisters stared at each other with frowns, not having given the matter any real thought. Wealthy men were so rarein Meryton society that nobody had attempted a compromise in living memory. Most thought they were a myth.
Jane said, “I would imagine quite a few, though I would be hard pressed to come up with more than the obvious two or three.”
“I cannot claim to be an expert on the subject. All I can say is that six different attempts have been made on me--…”
The sisters gasped in shock, and Mary said, “That is a lot of attempts for a decade in society.”
Darcy chuckled grimly. “You did not allow me to finish, Miss Mary. The rest of that sentence consists of… this year.”
The sisters looked back and forth in wonder, trying to imagine what it must have been like. All they had to do was imagine the last conversation between Mrs Bennet and Lady Lucas, or their father’s casual cruelty to work out how it must have felt to a stranger meeting the neighbourhood for the first time.
Elizabeth finally said, “I confess, this conversation has gone very differently than we imagined. I believe we can not only forgive your words but understand them as well. In fact, I am tempted to congratulate you on your forbearance.”
“Fear not, ladies. I appreciate your generosity, but I must claim my share of the fault. If you perfume a pig, it is still a pig. You cannot dress vice up with a dinner jacket and make it a virtue.”
Elizabeth, surprisingly, smiled. “That is a well-chosen idiom, sir. It is hard to argue, but it has one fatal flaw.”
“Which is?” he asked nervously.
“We all adore pigs.”
The group laughed uproariously (somewhat), which finally brought the attention of the rest of the congregation, who had been politely trying to ignore them.
Mary noticed the attention. “If we wish to beat our poor little ‘digging his own grave’ analogy to death, it is time for Lizzy to help Mr Darcy shovel the dirt back in.”
