His Good Opinion: A Mr. Darcy Novel (8 page)

Darcy's approbation of the lady was not shared by all in the room. Miss Bingley tossed a card down on the table and then rested her chin on her hand as she surveyed her companions. "Eliza Bennet is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own, and with many men, I daresay, it succeeds. But in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art."

She looked directly at Darcy when she leveled this accusation, no doubt hoping for some reaction from him. But Darcy refused to be baited. Tonight had shown him a smallness of character about her which he had not previously known. "Undoubtedly there is meanness in
all
the arts which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears an affinity with cunning is despicable."

Miss Bingley's gaze dropped to the table, and Darcy had all the satisfaction of knowing that he was understood.
And let us see if that does not put an end to her sniping,
he thought.

Miss Elizabeth returned before Miss Bingley could find her tongue. Her hands were clenched tightly in front of her, and she worried her lower lip between her teeth. "I am afraid Jane is feeling worse, rather than better as I had hoped," she said, her face drawn with tension.

Bingley rose to his feet with alacrity. "Let us call for Mr. Jones immediately," he suggested.

"No, this is not something a simple country doctor can advise on," Miss Bingley protested.

Mrs. Hurst chimed in quickly. "Clearly we must send to town for a physician."

"I am sure that will not be necessary," Miss Elizabeth said, "but if she does not feel better in the morning, I will gladly accept your offer to send for Mr. Jones."

Bingley frowned and cajoled, but the lady would not be moved. She soon left the room to go back to her sister. Bingley was quite out of sorts for the rest of the evening, while his sisters, after dramatic declarations of their misery, somehow managed to assuage their own feelings by singing duets until the evening drew to a close.

The ladies had already retreated to Miss Bennet's room when Darcy came in for breakfast the next morning, and by the time he realized Miss Elizabeth had sent for not only Mr. Jones but her mother, it was too late for escape.

Muffled giggles caught his attention before the door of the breakfast room opened to admit Caroline Bingley, Mrs. Bennet, and her daughters. Darcy frowned at the younger girls, who sidled off to a corner to whisper to one another.
If they are to be out in public, they should be taught to behave with propriety.

Ever polite, Bingley joined them in conversation. "I hope you have not found Miss Bennet worse than you expected," he said, addressing Mrs. Bennet, who stood in the middle of the room with only Miss Elizabeth beside her.

The woman smiled and simpered at Bingley like a young lady at her first ball. "Indeed I have, sir. She is a great deal too ill to be moved. Mr. Jones said we must not think of moving her. We must trespass a little longer on your kindness."

Darcy raised his eyebrows--as far as he knew, no one had suggested Miss Bennet be moved. The possibility that the mother had actually engineered her daughter's stay at Netherfield occurred to him.
Is she truly that desperate to gain Bingley as her son-in-law?
he wondered with dawning horror.

Bingley, however, was far too kind to suspect such a thing. "Removed!" he cried. "It must not be thought of. My sister, I am sure, will not hear of her removal."

Darcy's sympathies were with Miss Bingley, who had no choice but to answer as her brother had dictated. "You may depend upon it, madam, that Miss Bennet shall receive every possible attention while she remains with us."

"You are too good to us, and especially to my Jane," Mrs. Bennet said. "I am sure if it was not for such good friends I do not know what would become of her, for she is very ill indeed, and suffers a vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world--which is always the way with her, for she has, without exception, the sweetest temper I ever met with. I often tell my other girls they are nothing to
her
."

Every word from the woman's mouth sunk Darcy's opinion of her lower still. Degrading younger daughters in favor of the eldest was a trick he had seen many times, and one he despised.

Mrs. Bennet continued, oblivious to his thoughts. "You have a sweet room here, Mr. Bingley, and a charming prospect over the gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield Park. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I hope, though you have but a short lease."

Here at least Bingley disappointed her. "Whatever I do is done in a hurry, and therefore if I should resolve to quit Netherfield Park, I should probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here," he said in the off-handed manner Darcy knew so well.

Elizabeth joined in the conversation. "That is exactly what I should have supposed of you."

Bingley smiled at her. "You begin to comprehend me, do you?"

"Oh, yes! I understand you perfectly." Her lovely eyes sparkled at Bingley, and Darcy pursed his lips. That Miss Elizabeth should comprehend any man so well did not sit well with him, and that the man was Bingley somehow made it worse.

"I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen through I am afraid is pitiful," Bingley said.

Darcy crossed his arms. The easy familiarity in Bingley's tone rankled him, and for the first time, he was not inclined to disagree with his friend's ready self-deprecation.
Indeed, you are quite pitiful,
he agreed silently.

"That is as it happens," Miss Elizabeth said, and Darcy was gratified she did not immediately offer the commendation Bingley asked for. "It does not necessarily follow that a deep, intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours."

Mrs. Bennet's shrill voice startled Darcy. "Lizzy, remember where you are, and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home."

Bingley continued on as if Mrs. Bennet had not spoken. "I did not know before that you were a studier of character. It must be an amusing study."

"Yes, but intricate characters are the
most
amusing. They have at least that advantage."

Finally Darcy felt it necessary to break into their private conversation, though he could not say why. "The country can in general supply but few subjects for such a study. In a country neighborhood you move in a very confined and unvarying society."

At last, she turned those laughing brown eyes on him, and Darcy suddenly did not mind the topic of conversation in the slightest. "But people themselves alter so much, there is something new to be observed in them forever," she countered.

Her face was serious, but for a smile that played with the ends of her mouth. Darcy was so caught by the dimples that seemed to appear and disappear at will that he missed his opportunity to refute her latest assertion.

Instead, it was Mrs. Bennet who next added her voice to the conversation. "Yes, indeed! I assure you there is quite as much of
that
going on in the country as in town."

Her vitriol took the whole room by surprise, Darcy in particular. He stared at her for a moment, and then, not trusting himself to say anything pleasant to her, he turned away. Not even the surprisingly intriguing conversation with Miss Elizabeth was worth tangling with her mother.

Mrs. Bennet, however, was incapable of perceiving the snub. Instead, she took his lack of response as a victory and continued on the same line of thought. "I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country for my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal pleasanter, is not it, Mr. Bingley?"

Darcy barely restrained a snort. Her motives were patently obvious; she sought to turn her perceived victory over him into a promise from Bingley that he would remain in Hertfordshire indefinitely.
I shall have to prise him from here--this is no company for a lady like Georgiana.

He was not unaware that he made assumptions on his friend's intentions, but the match between Bingley and Georgiana was so equal on both sides, that Darcy had come to regard it as something of a settled thing. Now that relationship offered yet another benefit, as Bingley's courtship of Georgiana would necessarily pull him away from Hertfordshire.

As always, Bingley managed to be polite without lying--diplomatic, Darcy supposed. "When I am in the country I never wish to leave it; and when I am in town it is pretty much the same. They each have their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either."

"Aye--that is because you have the right disposition. But that gentleman --" from the corner of his eye, Darcy saw her direct a glare at him--"seemed to think the country was nothing at all."

That was not at all what he had said, but he cared too little for Mrs. Bennet's opinion to explain himself.
Let her misunderstand my every word, if it keeps her from directing her superciliousness at me.

"Indeed, Mama, you are mistaken," said Elizabeth. "You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there were not such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in town, which you must acknowledge to be true."

Her quick defense and understanding of him gratified Darcy. He caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window, and her reddened cheeks drew his sympathy.
You are a charming young lady, Miss Elizabeth, but I fear few men will wish to attach themselves to your family.

As if to prove his point, her mother continued without heeding her much wiser daughter. "Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with many people in this neighborhood, I believe there are few neighborhoods larger. I know we dine with four and twenty families."

From where he stood, Darcy could easily hear the sudden coughs and whispers between Bingley's sisters, and he shook his head. Ridiculous as the statement was, one did not mock a guest to her face.

"Has Charlotte Lucas called at Longbourn since I left, Mama?" Miss Elizabeth asked, in an obvious attempt to turn her attention to another topic.

It almost worked. "Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable man Sir William is, Mr. Bingley--is not he? So much the man of fashion, so genteel and so easy! He always has something to say to everybody.
That
is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very important, and never open their mouths, quite mistake the matter."

Better to keep one's mouth shut and appear ill-bred than to open it and remove all doubt,
Darcy thought, with some indignation. Really! That he should be compared to Sir William and found lacking.

"Did Charlotte dine with you?"

Miss Elizabeth seemed determined to turn the focus of the conversation away from Darcy, and he admired her efforts. He knew he did not bear up well under public scrutiny, though in this case he cared little enough for the result.

"No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted about the mince pies. For my part, Mr. Bingley,
I
always keep servants that can do their own work;
my
daughters are brought up differently. But everybody is to judge for themselves, and the Lucases are a very good sort of girls, I assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! Not that
I
think Charlotte so
very
plain--but then she is our particular friend."

Darcy was not sure which was worse: the invectives on his own character, or this fawning after Bingley and his good opinion. The woman seemed unable to hold any other thoughts in her head, and she would bounce back and forth between the two subjects and nothing else.

"She seems a very pleasant young woman," Bingley said generously of Charlotte Lucas, naturally oblivious to the undercurrents in the conversation.

Darcy sometimes wished Bingley would be more aware of the machinations of scheming mamas--
But if he were,
he thought,
he would not be Bingley.
It was plain to him what such a commendation of another young lady would lead to, and his assumption was correct.

"Oh dear, yes! But you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas herself has often said so, and envied me Jane's beauty. I do not like to boast of my own child --" here Darcy could not help but snort quietly, for it seemed that was all Mrs. Bennet did like to do--"but to be sure, Jane--one does not often see anybody better looking. It is what everybody says. I do not trust my own partiality. When she was only fifteen, there was a gentleman at my brother Gardiner's in town so much in love with her that my sister-in- law was sure he would make her an offer before we came away. But, however, he did not. Perhaps he thought her too young. However, he wrote some verses on her, and very pretty they were."

"And so ended his affection," Elizabeth interrupted, and Darcy marveled at the way she controlled her mother. "There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!"