Pride and Prejudice (Clandestine Classics) (2 page)

“We are not in a way to know
what
Mr Bingley likes,” said her mother resentfully, “since we are not to visit.”

“But you forget, mamma,” said Elizabeth, playing along with her father’s joke, “that we shall meet him at the assemblies, and that Mrs Long promised to introduce him.”

“I do not believe Mrs Long will do any such thing. She has two nieces of her own. She is a selfish, hypocritical woman, and I have no opinion of her.”

“No more have I,” said Mr Bennet, “and I am glad to find that you do not depend on her serving you.”

Elizabeth shook her head, amused by her father’s subterfuge—pleased he thought well enough of her to confide his secret. Hence, she had spent the entire day wondering about Mr Bingley, her thoughts often straying to places that were improper for a lady.

Mrs Bennet deigned not to make any reply, but, unable to contain herself, began scolding one of her daughters.

“Don’t keep coughing so, Kitty, for Heaven’s sake! Have a little compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces.”

“Kitty has no discretion in her coughs,” said her father, “she times them ill.”

“I do not cough for my own amusement,” replied Kitty fretfully. “When is your next ball to be, Lizzy?”

“Tomorrow fortnight,” said Elizabeth. She wondered if Mr Bingley would attend and hoped that it were so.

“Aye, so it is,” cried her mother, “and Mrs Long does not come back till the day before, so it will be impossible for her to introduce him, for she will not know him herself.”

“Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of your friend, and introduce Mr Bingley to
her
.”

“Impossible, Mr Bennet, impossible, when I am not acquainted with him myself. How can you be so teasing?”

“I honour your circumspection. A fortnight’s acquaintance is certainly very little. One cannot know what a man really is by the end of a fortnight. But if
we
do not venture somebody else will, and after all, Mrs Long and her daughters must stand their chance, and, therefore, as she will think it an act of kindness, if you decline the office, I will take it on myself.”

When the girls stared at their father eagerly, Elizabeth delighted at being in on the secret. Mrs Bennet said only, “Nonsense, nonsense!”

“What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?” cried he. “Do you consider the forms of introduction, and the stress that is laid on them, as nonsense? I cannot quite agree with you
there
. What say you, Mary? For you are a young lady of deep reflection, I know, and read great books and make extracts.”

Elizabeth was quite certain that Mary wished to say something sensible, but knew not how.

“While Mary is adjusting her ideas,” he continued, “let us return to Mr Bingley.”

“I am sick of Mr Bingley,” cried his wife.

Elizabeth looked to her father, beseeching him with her eyes to end his pretence and put her mother and sisters out of their misery.

“I am sorry to hear
that
, but why did not you tell me that before? If I had known as much this morning I certainly would not have called on him. It is very unlucky, but as I have actually paid the visit, we cannot escape the acquaintance now.”

The astonishment of the ladies was just what he wished, that of Mrs Bennet perhaps surpassing the rest, though, when the first tumult of joy was over, she began to declare that it was what she had expected all the while.

“How good it was in you, my dear Mr Bennet! But I knew I should persuade you at last. I was sure you loved your girls too well to neglect such an acquaintance. Well, how pleased I am and it is such a good joke, too, that you should have gone this morning and never said a word about it till now.”

“Now, Kitty, you may cough as much as you choose,” said Mr Bennet, and, as he spoke, he left the room, fatigued with the raptures of his wife.

“What an excellent father you have, girls!” said she, when the door was shut. “I do not know how you will ever make him amends for his kindness, or me, either, for that matter. At our time of life it is not so pleasant, I can tell you, to be making new acquaintances every day, but for your sakes, we would do anything. Lydia, my love, though you
are
the youngest, I dare say Mr Bingley will dance with you at the next ball.”

“Oh!” said Lydia stoutly, “I am not afraid, for though I
am
the youngest, I’m the tallest.”

The rest of the evening was spent in conjecturing how soon he would return Mr Bennet’s visit, and determining when they should ask him to dinner.

The girls were filled with rapturous excitement and stayed up long past their usual bedtime to discuss the recent development. Elizabeth retired to her bedchamber early. With four sisters, she had little time to herself. Dressed in her nightgown, her long dark hair combed out, she slid between the sheets of her bed and closed her eyes, letting her mind fill with the positively wicked thoughts she often denied herself.

A man—tall, rugged and infinitely handsome—trailing firm, wet kisses down her neck, his fingers whispering over her body like a hot summer’s breeze. His touch was gentle, but confident. He knew exactly what he was doing, and his proficiency excited her. His large hands skimmed over her breasts, finding the pink buds firm. He rolled them languidly between his fingers and the unfamiliar touch sent shivers of longing racing throughout her body. Then those hands moved lower…

Elizabeth quickly opened her eyes when she heard a noise out in the hall. She gasped, the beat of her heart sounding loud in her ears. The following silence did not assuage her fears and she chastised herself for being so careless and allowing her thoughts to endure. While the beating of her heart returned to its usual pace she waited for sleep to claim her. In slumber she could dream of all the things that in her waking hours, she was quite sure she would never be free to indulge in.

Chapter Three

Not all that Mrs Bennet, however, with the assistance of her five daughters, could ask on the subject, was sufficient to draw from her husband any satisfactory description of Mr Bingley. They attacked him in various ways—with barefaced questions, ingenious suppositions, and distant surmises, but he eluded the skill of them all, and they were at last obliged to accept the second-hand intelligence of their neighbour, Lady Lucas. Her report was highly favourable. Sir William had been delighted with him. He was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely agreeable, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at the next assembly with a large party. Nothing could be more delightful! To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love, and very lively hopes of Mr Bingley’s heart were entertained.

“If I can but see one of my daughters happily settled at Netherfield,” said Mrs Bennet to her husband, “and all the others equally well married, I shall have nothing to wish for.”

In a few days Mr Bingley returned Mr Bennet’s visit, and sat about ten minutes with him in his library. He had entertained hopes of being admitted to a sight of the young ladies, of whose beauty he had heard much, but he saw only the father. The ladies were somewhat more fortunate, for they had the advantage of ascertaining from an upper window that he wore a blue coat, and rode a black horse.

An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards dispatched, and already had Mrs Bennet planned the courses that were to do credit to her housekeeping, when an answer arrived which deferred it all. Mr Bingley was obliged to be in town the following day, and, consequently, unable to accept the honour of their invitation, etc. Mrs Bennet was quite disconcerted. She could not imagine what business he could have in town so soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire, and she began to fear that he might be always flying about from one place to another, and never settled at Netherfield as he ought to be. Lady Lucas quieted her fears a little by starting the idea of his being gone to London only to get a large party for the ball, and a report soon followed that Mr Bingley was to bring twelve ladies and seven gentlemen with him to the assembly. The girls grieved over such a number of ladies, but were comforted the day before the ball by hearing, that instead of twelve he brought only six with him from London—his five sisters and a cousin. And when the party entered the assembly room it consisted of only five altogether—Mr Bingley, his two sisters, the husband of the eldest, and another young man, his friend and confidant Mr Darcy.

Mr Bingley was good-looking and gentlemanlike. He had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners, but he did not capture Elizabeth Bennet’s interest. Mr Bingley’s sisters were fine women, with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Mr Hurst, merely looked the gentleman, but his friend Mr Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien, and the report which was in general circulation within five minutes after his entrance, of his having ten thousand a year. It was Mr Darcy who caught Elizabeth’s eye. The gentlemen in the room pronounced him to be a fine figure of a man, the ladies declared he was much handsomer than Mr Bingley, and he was looked at with great admiration for about half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust which turned the tide of his popularity. He was discovered to be proud, to be above his company, and above being pleased, and not all his large estate in Derbyshire could then save him from having a most forbidding, disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be compared with his friend.

Elizabeth had to agree with the general opinion of Mr Darcy. He did indeed appear to be a proud man, and one who showed little interest in the night’s proceedings. But unlike Mr Bingley, Mr Darcy had captured Elizabeth’s attention from the moment he had entered the room, and held it for the entirety of the evening. When their eyes had met for the first time, Elizabeth found she could not look away, which would have been proper for a young lady. Small flirtations were perfectly acceptable, but to openly dally for an extended period of time was considered improper and unladylike. Mr Darcy’s gaze took in every inch of Elizabeth’s body, from the top of her neatly arranged hair to the toes of her newly acquired slippers. And as his head lifted to behold her face, his gaze lingered on her bosom and his eyes flashed with an emotion the likes of which no man had bestowed upon Elizabeth before. She felt the appraisal through her entire being as though it were a physical thing. The heat in his eyes warmed her body, making her tingle and rousing her own clandestine desires.

Mr Bingley had soon made himself acquainted with all the principal people in the room. He was lively and unreserved, danced every dance, was angry that the ball closed so early, and talked of giving one himself at Netherfield. Such amiable qualities must speak for themselves. What a contrast between him and his friend! But it was his friend that Elizabeth found herself inexplicably drawn to. To Elizabeth’s disappointment, Mr Darcy danced only once with Mrs Hurst and once with Miss Bingley. He declined being introduced to any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party. His character was decided. He was the proudest, most disagreeable man in the world, and everybody hoped that he would never come there again. Amongst the most violent against him was Mrs Bennet, whose dislike of his general behaviour was sharpened into particular resentment by his having slighted one of her daughters.

Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen, to sit down for two dances, and during part of that time, Mr Darcy had been standing near enough for her to hear a conversation between him and Mr Bingley, who came from the dance for a few minutes, to press his friend to join it. It was quite contrary to the interest his lustful glances had suggested.

“Come, Darcy,” said Mr Bingley, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.”

“I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.”

“I would not be so fastidious as you are,” cried Mr Bingley, “for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening, and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty.”

“
You
are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said Mr Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.

“Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.”

“Which do you mean?” and turning round he looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye again, he withdrew his own and coldly said, “She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt
me
. I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”

Mr Bingley followed his advice. Mr Darcy walked off, and consequently, because of his last remark, Elizabeth remained with no very cordial feelings towards him. She would never understand the complications of men—especially those as perplexing as Mr Darcy. She told the story, however, with great spirit among her friends, for she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in anything ridiculous. Elizabeth did not mention their unspoken exchange.

The evening altogether passed off pleasantly to the whole family. Mrs Bennet had seen her eldest daughter much admired by the Netherfield party. Mr Bingley had danced with her twice, and she had been distinguished by his sisters. Jane was as much gratified by this as her mother could be, though in a quieter way. Elizabeth felt Jane’s pleasure—she had enjoyed the evening, notwithstanding Mr Darcy’s rude behaviour. Mary had heard herself mentioned to Miss Bingley as the most accomplished girl in the neighbourhood, and Catherine and Lydia had been fortunate enough never to be without partners, which was all that they had yet learnt to care for at a ball. They returned, therefore, in good spirits to Longbourn, the village where they lived, and of which they were the principal inhabitants. They found Mr Bennet still up. With a book he was regardless of time, and on the present occasion he had a good deal of curiosity as to the event of an evening which had raised such splendid expectations. He had rather hoped that his wife’s views on the stranger would be disappointed, but he soon found out that he had a different story to hear.