Page 144 of Companions of Their Youth
She drew in a long breath and let it out slowly.
It was over.
Almost.
Chapter 30
Darcy followed Mr. Bennet back into the ballroom just as dessert was being served. Silver spoons clinked softly against china, and the low hum of conversation floated beneath the notes of a harp playing from the corner.
They entered quietly. No one seemed to notice them at first. Mr. Bennet made his way to a seat near his wife, while Darcy, to his dismay, found himself placed beside Miss Bingley, who—as hostess—was seated at the upper table.
The moment he lowered himself into the chair, Miss Bingley leaned toward him, perfume thick in the air between them.
“My dear Mr. Darcy,” she murmured, voice like honey curdled in cream, “howstrangethat you disappeared for so long during the most important dance set of the evening. And Miss Elizabeth as well—dear me, is she quite unwell? And Colonel Fitzwilliam too. You must forgive my curiosity, but I should hate for anyone to have fallen into harm.”
Darcy’s tone was ice. “All is now well, Miss Bingley.”
“But wheredidyou all go?” she pressed, the flummery on her plate complete abandoned. “You must admit, it was very odd timing. One might think you were all conspiring together.”
He turned fully toward her, his voice clipped. “One might also think better of inventing fancies where none exist.”
Miss Bingley’s eyes narrowed just slightly, but before she could reply, Darcy glanced toward Mr. Bennet, who had just caught Bingley’s eye across the room. A single, subtle nod passed between the two men, and Darcy braced himself for the announcements.
Mr. Bennet rose and rapped the side of his wine glass with the blade of his knife. The chime rang out above the music and conversation, and gradually the crowd fell still.
He glanced toward Bingley, who stood now beside Jane, beaming in helpless delight.
“It gives me great pleasure to inform you all that my eldest daughter, Miss Jane Bennet, has accepted an offer of marriage from Mr. Charles Bingley.”
There was a moment’s silence—and then the room erupted in applause and cheerful exclamations. Jane blushed delicately. Bingley’s eyes never left her face.
But to Darcy’s left, Miss Bingley had turned to stone. Her face went first white, then blotchy red. Her hand gripped her dessert knife with such force that Darcy feared it might bend.
Her voice hissed from the corner of her mouth like steam from a kettle. “That idiot,” she muttered. “He is throwing himselfaway on a nobody. A pretty face in a mobcap and a jumble-sale gown.”
Darcy did not look at her. “On the contrary,” he said mildly. “He is fortunate to be marrying a gentle, lovely woman who will make an excellent mistress of his home.”
She opened her mouth to retaliate—but was cut off.
Mr. Bennet struck his glass again, this time more firmly.
“If I may,” he said, raising his voice slightly above the renewed chatter, “I was not finished.”
The room hushed once more. All heads turned toward him.
He gave a wry half-smile. “In addition to the happiness of my eldest daughter, I am also pleased to announce the engagement of my second daughter, Miss Elizabeth Bennet… to Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley.”
The silence held for a beat longer.
Then Mrs. Bennet shrieked.
“Oh, Mr.Bennet—!” she cried, half rising from her chair, dabbing furiously at her eyes with her napkin. “Two daughters engaged in one night!Two! Oh, I shall go distracted with joy!”
The corners of Darcy’s mouth twitched slightly at his future mother’s effusions, but he maintained his usual stoic face, conscious of all the eyes looking at him. As the uproar died down and people returned to conversation with those seated next to them, Darcy glanced over at Miss Bingley.
She had turned in her seat with the slow inevitability of a carriage veering into a ditch. Her mouth opened—and remainedso. No sound emerged. She looked rather like a carp pulled too suddenly from its pond.
For several long seconds, she blinked, her spoon halfway to her mouth, frozen in disbelief.
