Page 19 of The Heroic Mr Darcy's Bad Manners
quickly to the spot he hied,
ravished by her splendour.
Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,
Rosebud fair and tender.
Said the boy, ‘I’ll now pick thee,
Heathrose fair and tender.’
Said the rosebud, ‘I’ll prick thee,
So that thou’lt remember me.
Ne’er will I surrender.’
Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,
Rosebud fair and tender.
Now the cruel boy must pick
Heathrose fair and tender.
Rosebud did her best to prick.
Vain ’twas ’gainst her fate to kick—
she must needs surrender.
Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,
Rosebud fair and tender.”[2]
The assembled guests were uncommonly quiet, and Elizabeth immediately regretted allowing herself to be persuaded. She glanced at Mary, who was blinking rapidly.
“I am quite overcome. I have never heard you sing with so much feeling,” Mary whispered as the applause began in earnest.
Elizabeth was lauded by her neighbours, who came forwards and formed a protective ring around her. She was sheltered from the certain disapproving glare of Mr Darcy, but Miss Bingley entered their midst.
“I shall happily provide you with the address of my master, if you wish to improve your fingering.”
She slid onto the pianoforte stool, forcing Mary to yield, and played Dussek’s Sonatina with perfect fingering.
After Miss Bingley’s performance, Lydia begged Sir William for dancing, and the knight was by nature friendly and obliging. Furniture was moved out of the way, and Mary finally had her turn to exhibit at the pianoforte. Elizabeth circled the room and watched her sisters enjoy themselves. Lydia’s lively dancing of the reel must take the blame for her inattentiveness because when Sir William called out to her, she immediately obliged him.
The hair rose on her neck when she discovered that Sir William was engaged in conversation with Mr Darcy, or rather a monologue, judging by the latter gentleman’s tightly closed lips. She dipped into a curtsey and turned abruptly to make her escape.
“My dear Miss Eliza!”
Elizabeth disregarded Sir William’s pleas and found refuge out of doors. She rushed down the steps from the terrace and hid behind some shrubs. Once she had regained her breath she acknowledged the childishness of her behaviour. One must hope that the gentleman soon tired of their neighbourhood and returned to town. He certainly did not appear to enjoy either balls or dinner engagements. It would be in everyone’s interest if he left, she agreed with herself.
The hinges on the terrace door squeaked. Elizabeth startled, held her breath, and hoped that it was Charlotte and not Sir William. She could not excuse or explain her rude behaviour to the kind but loquacious man.
“I can guess the subject of your reveries.”
It was Miss Bingley’s grating voice, and the reply would reveal her company.
