His Good Opinion: A Mr. Darcy Novel (14 page)

Still, he resented the man for intruding into his time with Elizabeth, even in his absence. Sir William appeared at his side before either of them spoke again, and for the first time since he had met the gentleman, Darcy was grateful for his presence and volubility, for it gave him an excuse to remain quiet while he gathered the rest of his composure.

Sir William bowed low to Darcy and said, "I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear sir. Such very superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you belong to the first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does not disgrace you, and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated, especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Miss Eliza, shall take place."

He glanced down the dance at Miss Bennet and Bingley when saying the last, and Darcy realized with a start that Bingley's attentions to Miss Bennet had been so marked as to give rise to general expectations in the neighborhood.
How could I have been so lax in my friendship to him?
he berated himself.
Was I so entranced by Miss Elizabeth that I could not keep Bingley from involving himself too deeply with her sister?

Sir William did not notice the sudden hauteur on Darcy's face and continued blithely along. "What congratulations will then flow in! I appeal to Mr. Darcy--but let me not interrupt you, sir. You will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of that young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me."

Darcy, however, did not turn back to the gentleman but continued to watch Miss Bennet and Bingley.
How could I not have noticed that his affections were truly engaged? Have I become so used to him merely being attracted to various young ladies that I simply did not think it possible? Or...
He glanced at his own partner .
.. did I not wish to acknowledge that the Bennet sisters could exert such a pull against a gentleman's better judgment?

He recognized the truth in this last thought, and it took him some minutes after Sir William's departure to gain command of himself again. "Sir William's interruption has made me forget what we were talking of," he said by way of excusing his silence.

"I do not think we were speaking at all," Elizabeth said airily. "Sir William could not have interrupted any two people in the room who had less to say for themselves. We have tried two or three subjects already without success, and what we are to talk of next I cannot imagine."

Anxious to give his mind somewhere to turn, Darcy considered all the times they had shared together, and quickly found a subject he thought they could discuss in some depth. "What think you of books?"

He was startled when she said, "Books? Oh no! I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same feelings."

"I am sorry you think so," he said, though he privately believed her to be much mistaken; "but if that be the case, there can at least be no want of subject. We may compare our different opinions."

"No. I cannot talk of books in a ballroom; my head is always full of something else."

For the first time since he had made her acquaintance, Darcy did not believe Miss Elizabeth was being wholly honest with him. "The
present
always occupies you in such scenes--does it?" He could not keep a hint of skepticism from his voice.
What is she thinking?

"Yes, always."

The steps of the dance took her from him at that moment, and Darcy stared at her doubtfully.
Is that all she has to say? Perhaps when she turns back, she might admit she is simply speaking out of nerves.
He would admire her the more for it, given his own state of mind. There was something agitated about her manner, and though he could not pinpoint the cause, he knew she was not quite herself.

That cause soon was made clear. "I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy," said she, "that you hardly ever forgave; that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its
being created.
"

Elizabeth had hit on the greatest weakness of his temperament, and though he could wish for a kinder turn of conversation, he could not disagree. "I am."

This answer was not enough for her. She waited until the dance brought them face-to-face and then asked, "And you never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?"

He remembered then what she had said about pride on that day, and he wondered if that was her concern. "I hope not."

"It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion," she said as she passed behind him, "to be secure of judging properly at first."

Darcy took her hand and led her up the dance. "May I ask to what these questions tend?" he inquired, with more of a clip in his voice than he usually used when addressing her.

"Merely to the illustration of
your
character. I am trying to make it out." She smiled, but he was not fooled. Something bothered her.

"And what is your success?"

She shook her head, and though the gesture was playful, there was an edge to her voice. "I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as to puzzle me exceedingly."

Darcy's quick mind easily pieced the conversation together.
Wickham! Why is it that he always manages to appear the injured party in our disputes, and what devilry is it that would lead him to entice the very young lady I...

Darcy could not finish the sentence, even in his mind. There was a longing deep in his breast that he could not understand, one that wished her to know and believe only the best of him. "I can readily believe that report may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either."

He had a vague thought as he spoke the words that he might find a way to meet her privately on the following morning and explain the truth of the matter, and her next words displeased him exceedingly. "But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity."

In all their short acquaintance, Darcy had never known her to be so disobliging. However, he would not beg. "I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours."

An uneasy silence hung between them for the rest of the dance. For his part, Darcy was equally dissatisfied with the distance between them as he was with the subject of George Wickham, and on that count he quickly absolved her.

He felt how unequal he was to further conversation, and after he returned his partner to her friends, he withdrew from the ballroom to Bingley's study. His friend kept a particularly fine brandy there, and Darcy poured himself a measure. The cool glass in his hand calmed his thoughts. "Once again Wickham has insinuated himself with a young lady I value. Am I never to be free of his presence?"

He took a sip of brandy and paced the semi-dark room. "But Elizabeth is wise and insightful. She will see Wickham's true nature before long."

Hearing the words did more to ease his mind than anything else, and he knew he should return to the ball. He did not much relish the thought, but his sense of duty was too strong to allow him to remain hidden away for the rest of the evening. He looked regretfully about the quiet room, finished his brandy, and stepped back into the hallway.

His thoughts took a decidedly more cheerful turn on the way back, for the faint strains of music called to mind his dance with Elizabeth. His heart raced when he thought of her loveliness, so near and so vibrant, and his steps quickened to carry him back to her.

Unfortunately, instead of finding Elizabeth, he was approached by the same awkward young man he had seen dancing with her earlier. The gentleman had won no warm feelings from him at that time, and he did not improve upon acquaintance. Without even the courtesy of an introduction, he walked right up to him and bowed, as if they were equals. "I must beg your apology," he said, his tone most solemn, "for the duty I have neglected. I am Mr. Collins, the rector at Hunsford parish, near Rosings Park. Your noble aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, is my patroness."

The connection explained much about the air of servility that surrounded the man. His aunt surrounded herself with people who bowed and scraped with an obsequiousness that Darcy found disgusting. "I am sure my aunt could not have the discernment to bestow that favor without merit, sir," he said, hoping his cold tone would discourage further familiarity.

But Mr. Collins bowed again, lower this time if it were possible. "It is with great pleasure that I can tell you Lady Catherine and her daughter were doing quite well on the Sunday sennight past. Indeed, I had the honor of filling out a table for quadrille just that previous Saturday, and found her ladyship to be in fine health and spirits both."

Darcy eyed the man with a barely hidden repugnance when he finished speaking. This time, he gave the briefest of bows and then turned away. Thankfully, Mr. Collins did not follow.

Shortly after this unwelcome intrusion, the guests were called to sit down to dinner. Darcy gladly took a seat that was directly across the table from Elizabeth, unaware that her mother sat beside her. That woman started talking when the first course was brought out and she continued until the meal ended, the feather on her head bobbing in time to the movements of her mouth.

"Oh! My dear Lady Lucas, do you not think Jane looks very well tonight? There is a certain glow about her this evening, would you not agree?" Lady Lucas barely had time to voice her assent before Mrs. Bennet continued. "I am glad, for perhaps seeing her at her finest will spur Mr. Bingley on. I do expect some kind of arrangement to be made very soon, and would it not be lovely if he were to use the opportunity of a ball--such a romantic occasion--to ask for her hand?"

Lady Lucas's smile was as strained as Darcy's was. To hear Bingley's name bantered around in this manner insulted his friend and disturbed Darcy.
Thankfully, Bingley's sisters are not in earshot,
he thought. Caroline sat at the far end of the table in the hostess's seat, and he shuddered to think how she would react to such presumption.

Darcy, however, could not avoid Mrs. Bennet's pronouncements. "Mr. Bingley is such a charming man, I am sure Mr. Bennet will agree that we could not get a finer son-in-law--nor a richer one, to be sure."

The impropriety of this comment nearly shocked Darcy into speech. His gut clenched; his own experience with a fortune hunter was still fresh enough to make him deeply feel Bingley's peril.

Only the sight of Elizabeth's mortification induced him to hold his tongue.
I must not lay the sins of the parent entirely on the feet of her children,
he reminded himself.
Just because Mrs. Bennet is mercenary does not mean her daughter does not have a strong affection for Bingley.

Mrs. Bennet now prattled on about the solicitude Miss Bennet received from Bingley's sisters, and Darcy looked down the table to where they all sat. Miss Bingley was talking to her, to be sure, but he could tell her smile was artificial from twenty feet away. There was no questioning what the woman thought about having such a country nobody for a sister-in-law. She may like Jane Bennet very well as a friend, but as a member of the family was a different question altogether.

Mrs. Bennet's shrill voice drew his attention away from her daughter. "Oh! And how nice it will be for my other girls, if Jane marries Mr. Bingley!"

"Whatever do you mean, Mrs. Bennet?" Lady Lucas inquired, echoing Darcy's own question.

"Why my dear Lady Lucas, I mean, of course, that this must throw them in the path of other rich men! Just think what fine gentleman Kitty and Lydia might meet, if they spend time with Jane and Mr. Bingley."

Darcy almost choked on his wine. Thinking of those two girls being thrown into London society was not to be borne. They were the silliest pieces of farididdle he had ever had the misfortune to come across, and though any man who married them would richly deserve what he got, Darcy would not wish either of them on his worst enemy.

Mrs. Bennet placed a hand on her friend's arm and leaned in slightly. The gesture of secrecy was meaningless, for her voice still carried across the room. "Of course, it will be nice for Mr. Bennet and myself as well. We are getting far too old to go out in the evenings, and if Jane married, she could chaperone the rest of the girls at the parties. I do wish you might have a daughter settled half so well."

Elizabeth whispered something in Mrs. Bennet's ear, and Darcy guessed she urged her mother to lower her own voice. Mrs. Bennet, however, said, in her same voluble tone, "What is Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I am sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged to say nothing
he
may not like to hear."

Darcy pulled back in surprise when he heard his own name, and from the look on her face, he knew Miss Elizabeth had not mentioned it. Her teeth clenched, she spoke again. "For heaven's sake, madam, speak lower--what advantage can it be to you to offend Mr. Darcy? You will never recommend yourself to his friend by so doing."

That Elizabeth shared her mother's hopes for Bingley and Miss Bennet was clear, and it was the only thing that might have convinced Darcy to give his approval of the match. Of all the Bennets, her opinion and judgment alone did he value.