His Good Opinion: A Mr. Darcy Novel (15 page)

Her endorsement of the match also led to a new consideration.
Is it possible Miss Bennet truly cares for Bingley?
This thought gave Darcy an occupation for his mind; rather than listening to Mrs. Bennet, he focused his attention on Bingley and Miss Bennet, trying to ascertain any symptoms of affection on the side of the latter.

When the meal ended, the entertainment began. Miss Bingley had scarcely said, "I wonder if any of the young ladies would like to entertain us with a song?" when Miss Mary Bennet rose from her seat at the table and approached the pianoforte with a haste that showed an indecorous eagerness. Darcy watched her prepare her music with little expectation of pleasure. He well remembered the last time he had heard the young lady play, and he did not imagine her style had much improved since that time.

Indeed, it had not. When it began, her playing was as forced and stilted as it had been some weeks earlier. He saw on the faces of his companions the same discomfort, and they all wished the song to end.

But when her song ended, some of the audience took the polite applause to the next level. "How delightful, Miss Mary. Perhaps you might be able to play for us again."

Darcy had only known the young lady for a few short months, but that was enough time for him to know what she would do with such encouragement. Rather than get up and let another young lady have a turn, she smiled primly and turned the pages of her music to another song. Across the table, Elizabeth blushed, and he could only guess at her mortification. She glanced down the table, and when he followed her gaze, he saw Jane Bennet calmly speaking with Bingley.

That sight convinced him of one thing: It would not be easy to move Jane Bennet to heights of emotion. If she could not feel even a little self-conscious at the spectacle her sisters were making of themselves--for the two younger sisters pointed at Miss Mary and openly laughed at her--then how was anyone to know if she had fallen in love? He watched her closely for some time and saw that although she smiled freely at Bingley, there did not seem to be any additional warmth or spark in her expression that would lead one to believe she felt anything deeper than admiration.

Miss Mary abused the pianoforte for another minute, and Elizabeth caught her father's eye and indicated he should for once take control of his family. Though Darcy agreed that Mr. Bennet should not allow his middle daughter to bring any more of Society's disdain on his family, he doubted the gentleman's ability to subtly handle the situation.

All of Darcy's prejudices against Mr. Bennet were confirmed a moment later. When Miss Mary's second song ended, he rose from his seat and said, "That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit."

Though he cared little for the young lady in question, Darcy felt the full weight of her humiliation, as he was sure Elizabeth did. Miss Mary flushed a little and fumbled with her music when she stood. Minutes before Darcy had scorned her; now she had his sympathy. Mr. Bennet, however...
He allows his family to make an exhibition of themselves for his own amusement.

Mr. Collins, whose relationship with the Bennet family Darcy had still not managed to figure out, spoke now. "If I were so fortunate as to be able to sing, I should have great pleasure, I am sure, in obliging the company with an air; for I consider music as a very innocent diversion, and perfectly compatible with the profession of a clergyman."

This bit of exposition was odd enough, but the man did not stop there. He clasped his hands behind his back and paced a little alongside the tables. He expounded at length on the duties of a clergyman, from the writing of sermons to the collection of tithes, and when that was finished, he turned toward Darcy.

"And I do not think it of light importance that he should have attentive and conciliatory manners towards everybody, especially towards those to whom he owes his preferment. I cannot acquit him of that duty; nor could I think well of the man who should omit an occasion of testifying his respect towards anybody connected with the family."

Darcy watched in abject horror as the absurd man bowed to him before seating himself again. Mr. Collins had impressed Darcy earlier as one who dearly loved the sound of his own voice. His speech was filled with panegyrics, and though he had constantly spoken of those better than him, it was clear he believed himself to be quite good enough for the current society, and better than most.

Darcy could not avoid hearing Mrs. Bennet whisper, "I do think Mr. Collins is a remarkably clever, good kind of young man, do you not, Lady Lucas?" Her companion did not offer a reply, none clearly being needed, and the obvious answer not being what she would expect to hear.

At long last, the ball came to a close. The evening had brought Darcy nothing but greater pain, and he greatly desired its end. He had watched for another forty-five minutes as Bingley made evident the depths of his affection for Miss Bennet, and Mr. Collins showed himself to be even more ridiculous than he had thought possible.

The latter brought him no pleasure, for he made a fool of himself at the expense of his cousin Elizabeth, whose side he barely left for the whole of the rest of the evening. Darcy did not enjoy watching the two of them together, regardless of how little the lady clearly appreciated his company.

A sudden thought occurred to Darcy as he observed them.
By all ordinary standards, Mr. Collins would be viewed as a good match for Elizabeth.
His chest tightened and he had to step out of the ballroom to take a quick breath of fresh air.
What can it matter to me who she marries? Have I not already decided...

Darcy leaned against the wall in the darkened corridor. He
had
already made his decision. He had no business questioning Elizabeth's choice of partner in her future life.

Still, the possibility that she might marry such an
unworthy
man ruined the last bit of enjoyment he might have found in the ball, and when the evening finally came to a close, he rejoiced.

When at last the guests began to leave, Darcy thought he would have his peace in short order. He had not reckoned with Mrs. Bennet. By some trick, she managed to have their party be the last to leave, and even then to extend their visit by the period of another fifteen minutes. Darcy did not know how she had contrived to have their carriage take so long in coming, but he did not doubt it was her handiwork.

Earlier in the evening, Darcy would have been embarrassed by the behavior of Bingley's two sisters. They yawned prodigiously, and every sentence they spoke was an issuance of exhaustion and of how glad they would be to get to sleep after such an evening. He knew their behavior was excessively rude, but he could not bring himself to disagree with them. Mrs. Bennet had taxed him to the extreme; he could not even be prevailed upon to intercede for the sake of Elizabeth, who did not deserve such treatment.

Finally, they were gone. The Netherfield Park party watched them drive away and then closed the doors. "I believe I must be to bed," Bingley announced. "It has been a long day--though you would have been good to not mention it in front of our guests, Caroline--and I have an early morning and a ride to London in front of me. Good night Caroline, Louisa, Darcy."

Darcy sketched his own bow to the ladies. "I am afraid I too must retire. Good night, Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst. Thank you for hosting a delightful evening."

"I do believe it might have been more delightful if there had been fewer Bennets present," Miss Bingley muttered as they climbed the stairs.

Every time Darcy closed his eyes, some member of the Bennet family invaded his thoughts. Mrs. Bennet's presumptuous chatter, the improprieties of the three younger daughters, and Mr. Bennet's amused indolence--they all played across his mind in vivid detail.
Is this what my friend is to marry into?

He finally drifted off near dawn, but his dreams were no less troubling. Bingley, dressed in his finest morning coat, stood in front of the Longbourn church. Darcy stood by his side. The door opened, and all but the eldest of the Miss Bennets trailed up the aisle, Elizabeth last of all. She held Darcy's gaze for half a second, and the question he saw there smote him.

The organ struck a chord, and another figure appeared at the back of the church. Jane Bennet, radiant in bridal white, held her father's arm. Darcy watched her proceed down the aisle, a protest building in his throat.
"No! This cannot be,"
he longed to declare, but loyalty to his friend held his tongue. He could not, in front of all these people...
Why did I not speak before?

Darcy woke with a start. The first fingers of weak sunlight lightened the room through the curtains, and he swung his legs out of bed. The cold stones under his feet sped him through his morning routine, and he was dressed in under ten minutes.

He walked quietly down the stairs, not wanting to wake any of the family. However, Bingley himself met him at the door. "Darcy! You are up early, even for you."

Darcy could not look at his friend without seeing him as he had appeared in his dream. He shook his head to clear the image of Bingley dressed for his wedding and said, "I am afraid I could not sleep. Are you leaving for London?"

Bingley nodded. "I wish to complete my business as quickly as possible, so I might return. There are some matters here which I cannot pursue until my affairs in London are tidied up a bit."

His meaning could not be clearer. Bingley intended to see a solicitor regarding marriage settlements while he was in town. Darcy bit back all his arguments against the match and instead said, "Then I hope we shall see you sooner, rather than later."

Bingley clapped him on the shoulder and laughed. "I believe you will. Now, I take it by your attire that you plan to ride. Walk with me to the stable."

Darcy hesitated for a bare instant before he shook his head. "You will excuse me, Bingley. I have something on my mind and I need time alone to think. I will let you continue on to London. We shall see you within a week."

"Or less," Bingley corrected with a grin.

"Or less." The two men exited the house, and Darcy turned toward the woods. Though the sky was cloudless, the blustery November wind stole all the warmth from the sun's rays. Darcy shivered and pulled his coat closer, but he did not give up his notion of taking a walk.

His dream still troubled him. The question in Miss Elizabeth's eyes had taunted him since he woke up--"When will you declare yourself?"

Darcy did not like to admit fault on his own part, even to himself, but his attentions toward the lady had been too marked to avoid notice.
Were it not for her family, I would gladly marry Elizabeth. But I will not expose the Darcy name to such low connections and gross improprieties.

"And what of Bingley?" Darcy asked, voicing his frustration to the rocks and trees. "Am I to allow him to stay in Hertfordshire and marry Miss Bennet?" A glimpse of the dream wedding flashed through his mind, when he stood up beside Bingley and Elizabeth beside her sister. An ache built in his chest at the thought of standing across from her in the church, wanting to take her hand but unable to do so.

Elizabeth's laughing eyes brought to mind Jane Bennet's easy, complacent manner, and he frowned at the contrast. "Is Bingley then to be forced into a marriage of unequal affection?" The previous night had convinced him Miss Bennet's regard for Bingley did not extend to romantic attachment. "It would wound a sensitive man like Bingley to discover his wife did not care for him."

His stomach growled before he could find an answer. He realized with some surprise that the sun had risen to almost midday while he walked, and he turned back toward the house. Darcy found the Bingley sisters seated in the breakfast room. "I hope you did not wait for me," he said, noting they had only begun to eat.

"Oh no, Mr. Darcy," Mrs. Hurst assured him. "I am afraid dear Caroline and I did not rise at our usual time this morning after all the excitement of the ball last night."

Darcy poured his coffee in silence. The ball was the last subject Darcy wished to discuss.
Perhaps I might take a tray to my room,
he considered.

Behind him, Miss Bingley spoke. "I did not like what I saw last night, Louisa."

Or perhaps they might help me convince Bingley to leave Hertfordshire.
Darcy took a seat across from them at the table.

"Nor I, Sister--nor I." Mrs. Hurst shook her head.

"Charles was far too free with his attentions to Miss Bennet. I do dote on her, but I do not wish to have her for a sister. Imagine having Mrs. Bennet at our brother's wedding!"

Darcy grimaced. Mrs. Bennet would not confine her interference in the family to just the wedding. If Bingley married Miss Bennet and they resided at Netherfield, they would never be free of her company.

Louisa Hurst shuddered delicately and spread more jam on her bread before answering. "But what can we do? He is of age, and there is no one in the family who could possible forbid him to marry her."

Miss Bingley sighed. "True, and even if they were to try, you know Charles would simply argue they do not know Jane--that if they were to meet her, they would understand her sweet temper and know why he must marry her."