His Good Opinion: A Mr. Darcy Novel (7 page)

The sisters shared a laugh, and then Mrs. Hurst offered her observations. "She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild."

Wild is not the word I would use.
Darcy shifted uncomfortably at the memory of Miss Elizabeth's appearance that morning.

"She did indeed, Louisa! I could hardly keep my countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all!" Miss Bingley
tsked
softly. "Why must
she
be scampering about the country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair so untidy, so blowsy!"

The ladies laughed again, and then Mrs. Hurst continued. "Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep in mud, I am absolutely certain; and the gown which had been let down to hide it, not doing its office."

"Your picture may be very exact, Louisa," Bingley countered, "but this was all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice."

Miss Bingley turned to Darcy, and her arch smile seemed very smug when compared with Miss Elizabeth's genuine expressions. "You observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure, and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see
your sister
make such an exhibition."

"Certainly not." There was no way to deny it, but he kept any hint of censure from his voice when he agreed.
After all, the difference in age and station of life quite excuses Miss Elizabeth from any wrongdoing in this case.

He had thought this would end the conversation, but Miss Bingley took his comment as license to continue. "To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! What could she mean by it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most country town indifference to decorum."

Darcy pressed his lips together to hold in a stinging retort, but Bingley was not as restrained. "It shows an affection for her sister that is very pleasing."

She ignored her brother and turned instead to Darcy. "I am afraid, Mr. Darcy, that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine eyes."

He now regretted that wayward comment, for honesty compelled him to say, "Not at all, they were brightened by the exercise."

Miss Bingley stared at him, her lips compressed in a thin line.
What did I say?
He went over his words again, and realized with some chagrin how they might be taken.
And yet I said nothing but the truth. If she chooses to believe I am smitten by Miss Elizabeth, that is her own problem.

After a minute, Mrs. Hurst picked the conversation up at its original topic. "I have an excessive regard for Jane Bennet, she is really a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with such a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it."

Miss Bingley's energy revived at this. "I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton."

"Yes, and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside."

"That is capital!"

Bingley frowned. "If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside," said he, "it would not make them one jot less agreeable."

For the first time, Darcy felt uneasy about Bingley's affection for Miss Bennet.
He had not before considered her as a true rival with Georgiana for Bingley's affections. "But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world," he explained.

Bingley gave no sign of hearing him, but from his sisters, however, Darcy's remark received ready agreement. "Exactly so, Mr. Darcy," Mrs. Hurst said.

"You do have such a way stating things," said Miss Bingley.

Something in the compliment struck Darcy as odd. He remembered Vincent's words, and for the first time it occurred to him that Miss Bingley might believe she stood a chance at gaining his favor.
And yet, if that is the case, what can I do? Bingley is my friend and I am a guest in his home.

Darcy still did not know the answer when Miss Bingley stood a moment later and glanced at the clock. "Louisa and I will leave you gentlemen to your cigars while we visit Jane. We will join you in the drawing room in approximately half an hour. Perhaps we might play cards this evening."

To Darcy's relief, conversation over port was minimal. Bingley appeared deep in thought, and Hurst settled himself into a chair by the fire for a brief nap. It was not difficult to wake him at the appointed time, however, for the promise of cards provided ample inducement.

They played loo, the stakes growing higher with each hand. After four rounds Miss Elizabeth appeared at the door. "Would you care to join us at cards, Miss Eliza?" Miss Bingley asked.

Elizabeth glanced at the table and shook her head. "Thank you but no. I will not stay below long enough to play. I shall amuse myself with a book before I need to return to my sister."

Mr. Hurst leaned forward, his mouth agape. "Do you prefer reading to cards? That is rather singular."

Darcy privately agreed, but not in the sense Hurst meant. It was his opinion that ladies in general were too much in need of outside stimulus, rather than being able to amuse themselves. Miss Elizabeth's enjoyment of a good book was singular indeed.

Miss Bingley smirked. "Miss Eliza Bennet despises cards. She is a great reader, and has no pleasure in anything else."

The insult was clear. Darcy was almost tempted to speak out in Miss Elizabeth's defense, but she raised one eyebrow and he knew she could handle herself. "I deserve neither such praise nor such censure. I am
not
a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things."

Well answered,
Darcy thought.
How I would love to see you go against Lady Catherine.

"In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure, and I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her quite well," Bingley said, using his role as host to steer the conversation in a more genial manner. Elizabeth smiled and thanked him, and then picked Fanny Burney's
Cecilia
up from a nearby table. "Is there something here to your taste? If not, I can easily go to the library and bring you something else. And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own credit; but I am an idle fellow, and though I have not many, I have more than I ever look into."

"No, thank you. These here will be just fine."

Miss Bingley laid her next card on the table. "I am astonished that my father should have left so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!"

"It ought to be good. It has been the work of many generations." There was something about Miss Bingley that always brought out Darcy's public manners--that is, his practiced air of boredom and disinterest. No matter what she said, he could not bring himself to have a real conversation with her.

"And then you have added so much to it yourself; you are always buying books."

He shrugged off her simpering compliment and played a card. "I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these."

"Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of that noble place. Charles, when you build your house, I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley."

The friends exchanged an amused look. "I wish it may," Bingley said.

Miss Bingley would not give up. "But I would really advise you to make your purchase in that neighborhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There is not a finer county in England than Derbyshire."

Bingley grinned at Darcy and voiced the thought the two gentlemen shared. "With all my heart; I will buy Pemberley itself if Darcy will sell it."

Miss Bingley pursed her lips. "I am talking of possibilities, Charles."

"Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get Pemberley by purchase than by imitation."

Darcy had noticed several minutes ago that their conversation had caught Miss Elizabeth's attention. Now she set her book down and took a seat at the table between Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. Her nearness distracted Darcy from play for a brief moment, but the ever-vigilant Miss Bingley soon called him back to himself. "Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring? Will she be as tall as I am?"

Darcy tilted his head back and considered. "I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's height, or rather taller," he said, eyeing the lady in question.

Miss Bingley sighed, and Darcy wondered what she would say now. "How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners, and so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite."

Bingley spoke before Darcy had fully processed this long recitation of his sister's charms. "It is amazing to me," he said, "how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished, as they all are."

Miss Bingley placed her hand on her chest. "All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?"

"Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, and I am sure I have never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished."

Though Darcy had little liking for the conversation, Bingley's naivete forced him to break in. "Your list of the common extent of accomplishments has too much truth," he agreed. "The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished."

Miss Bingley's agreement was instantaneous. "Nor I, I am sure."

Miss Elizabeth did not attempt to hide the incredulity spreading across her face. "Then you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman."

Her honest question interested him far more than Caroline Bingley's instant agreement, and he warmed to the conversation. "Yes. I do comprehend a great deal in it."

"Oh, certainly!" cried Miss Bingley, before he could finish his thought, or allow Miss Elizabeth to question him further. "No one can really be esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved."

Darcy eyed Miss Elizabeth, whose smile had widened with each quality listed. He glanced down at the book she still held in her lap, and a sudden desire to tease her with a compliment seized him. "All this she must possess, and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading."

Miss Elizabeth's fine eyes danced with amusement. "I am no longer surprised at your knowing
only
six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing
any
."

He set his cards down on the table and turned fully toward her. "Are you so severe on your own sex, as to doubt the possibility of all this?" It was an honest question; most ladies he knew--nay, most people--would take this opportunity for self-gratulation, claiming all these qualities for themselves.

She shook her head. "I never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe, united."

Instantly, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst launched into the tirade he would have expected before, listing off all the women they knew who fit this mold. In doing so, they not only belied their earlier statement that only a few women deserved to be known as accomplished, Darcy believed they also put themselves in very poor contrast to Miss Bennet. Her decorous humility was even more attractive in comparison to their vain cries of outrage.

Mr. Hurst soon called them back to the card table, and Darcy was not sorry to see the conversation end.
Miss Elizabeth has an astonishing ability to discompose me.

He was grateful when, a few minutes later, that lady rose from her own seat and walked toward the door. "Oh, Miss Eliza, you are not leaving so soon," Miss Bingley exclaimed, but this time, Darcy could hear the note of falseness in her voice.

"I am afraid I must," Miss Elizabeth said. "You understand, my first concern is Jane."

"Of course it is," Bingley said. "We could credit you with nothing less. Pray tell me if there is anything that can be done for her."

Miss Elizabeth smiled in receipt of this request and curtsied prettily. On the whole, there was nothing in her manner of which Darcy could disapprove, and if he could but master his own attraction to her, he would be very glad of her company.