Page 28 of The Heroic Mr Darcy's Bad Manners
Elizabeth sighed and thanked the footman who had just filled her glass with wine before she tasted the white soup. Her dinner partner’s loquaciousness fortunately made any attempts at conversation redundant, and her eyes travelled the long table to watch her mother. She was not making herself agreeable to the lady of the house, who bent her head to the frowning gentleman beside her. She was in no doubt about their topic and wished she had sat closer to Mrs Bennet to temper her exuberance. Her father was also situated too far away from his wife to be of service. It was a good thing that Mr Bingley and Jane were conversing to the exclusion of everyone else—a conversation which lasted until the meal concluded.
Afterwards, Charlotte was trying to persuade Elizabeth to play the pianoforte when she halted abruptly mid-sentence. She stared wide-eyed over her shoulder, and curious as she was, Elizabeth turned to see what had caught her friend’s attention.
“Miss Bennet,” Mr Darcy greeted her and bowed. “Our set is about to begin,” he informed her, offering his arm.
Elizabeth had no choice but to take it. She was escorted into the ballroom and took her place in the line, where she read amazement in her neighbours’ looks. They, undoubtedly, thought she had lost her senses. There was not a house in the vicinity where his insults had not been the prime topic ever since the Meryton assembly.
The music began and Elizabeth’s distress increased. She could not meet her partner’s eyes but fixed her gaze on a silver button on his coat. She was obliged to dance, but no one could force her to speak, and Elizabeth remained silent for the entire half-hour. The only one who spoke was Sir William, who, on his way across the floor, spotted the illustrious Mr Darcy. He flattered him for his excellent dancing and expounded upon the beauty of his desirable partner. The latter made Elizabeth flush in embarrassment. Surely Sir William had been informed about the insult? What could the Lucases mean by the constant reminders? She surmised that Sir William was deliberately trying to elevate her in the haughty gentleman’s esteem, ignorant to the fact that it could not be done. Did they not understand how painful it was to her?
Sir William ended his interruption by alluding to a desirable event whilst glancing at Jane and Mr Bingley. They were engaged for their third set of the evening and may as well have declared that an understanding had been reached. Mr Darcy’s eyes followed Sir William’s gaze.
“—but let me not interrupt your superior dancing. You will not thank me for detaining you from your bewitching partner, whose lovely eyes are now berating me.”
Sir William finally left them, but Mr Darcy showed no sign he had even heard the man. His eyes were directed at Mr Bingley and Jane with a sombre expression.
The set ended with not a word exchanged. Mr Darcy held her hand as he had frozen in the middle of the last step. Elizabeth jerked it out of his grip and positioned herself opposite so as to curtsey. She could not look at him but fixed her eyes on his flexing hand.
“Miss Bennet,” he began, but Elizabeth was at the end of her tolerance and had already turned her back on him. His calling did not induce her to return, nor did it slow her steps. She continued out of the ballroom and found solace in the empty library.
#
Darcy
His valet was tugging at his coat sleeves. The ball had finally ended, and he asked Grey with an affected air of indifference, “Have you heard anything downstairs about a family called Bennet?”
It was safest to enquire about all the Bennets in the area rather than to risk raising suspicions by asking about the one who intrigued him. What had possessed him to request Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s hand for a set was beyond him. He had stalked the outskirts of the ballroom and found a perfectly good hiding place where he was mostly obscured from the savage revellers. For some inexplicable reason, his eyes had been intent on following the insignificant miss about the room as they had for the majority of his stay at Netherfield. She was a lowly country squire’s daughter and could not hold a candle to his Eilís. His failure to find that lady had by no means discouraged him from pursuing her. Quite the contrary. He was decided: it must be she and no other!
His excuse must be that Miss Elizabeth Bennet did not behave as any other lady he had ever met. That must be it. She piqued his curiosity, which naturally led him to enquire about her. Her assiduous avoidance of his company bordered on the ridiculous. Rightly, he had made unflattering remarks that had provoked her to retaliate, for which his boots had suffered a minor injury. It was baffling that she had not once since curried his favour. She must have heard his income being bandied about as quite significant in this unsophisticated little neighbourhood. But no, the lady continued to avoid his company as if he were the plague. It was rather humorous how she had leapt up when he took the seat next to her on the sofa.
“Yes. It is the most prominent family in Meryton. There are five daughters of reputed beauty, and they are well liked in the community. I have heard nothing worse about them than the patriarch’s penchant for wielding his sharp sarcastic wit upon his unsuspecting neighbours and wife. She herself is rather ignorant, and marriage minded, but there have been, as far as I have discovered, no scandals attached to their name in recent years. Unlikely as it may seem with two such dissimilar partners, the Bennet household is regarded as a happy home.”
Grey disappeared into the dressing room with Darcy’s coat, and he was forced to raise his voice when it hit him that he had just caught his infallible valet in an error.
“Sir William outranks Mr Bennet. He is a knight,” Darcy corrected his valet whilst trying to hide his glee.
“He did, but an earldom has been created that has elevated Mr Bennet to the peerage.”
“But that is impossible!” he exclaimed in shock.
Grey looked at him with something akin to pity in his eyes. A sense of unwarranted dread gripped his chest. Or perhaps not entirely unwarranted if he considered the slights he had so unjustly bestowed upon the earl’s daughter. He immediately disregarded his misgivings as ridiculous. What did it matter to him whether Mr Bennet was an earl, or even the next king of England for that matter?
“How recently?”
“It was announced in this evening’s paper, but the residents of Meryton and Longbourn village have known for years that this day would come.”
“I find that hard to believe. I have heard not a single word about it, and those kinds of fortunate events never fail to be boasted about.”
His valet was regarding him with an expression of trepidation, as though he was about to inform him of something he would not like to hear. He even cleared his throat, which was unheard of.
“Out with it, Grey!” he barked with unnecessary force. He was vexed and unable to conceal it.
“I believe… Um, that is to say…well…your hapless remarks at the Meryton assembly, and the unfortunate behaviour of Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst, have not recommended your party to the small but protective society of Meryton. I have never encountered any community so willing to preserve and shield a family as I have seen in this quaint little town.”
“I know of what you speak with regards to my slight of the second eldest Bennet daughter, and I received quite the set-down for my callous words. You have seen the damage to my boot, and Mrs Bennet and the mousy daughter thoroughly berated me, but I suppose you already knew that?”
Grey nodded solemnly.
“What I do not understand is why Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst would be slighted. Not to forget Mr Hurst and Mr Bingley, who are incapable of offending anyone. Mr Hurst because he does not apply himself, and Mr Bingley because he is unfailingly agreeable to all and sundry. So why are we regarded as such outcasts as to be deemed a threat to the fortunate elevation of Mr Bennet?”
