Pride and Prejudice (The Wild and Wanton Edition) (2 page)

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OTHING MRS. BENNET, with the assistance of her five daughters, could ask on the subject was sufficient to draw any satisfactory description of Mr. Bingley. They attacked Mr. Bennet 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 neighbor, Lady Lucas. Her report was highly favorable. 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 left 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.

“He carries himself well,” Jane remarked, giving a shy smile. Though, a compliment from Jane was not a rare thing. She generally thought of something nice to say about everyone.

“Very well,” Elizabeth agreed with an enthusiastic nod, inclined by the nature of their relationship to agree with her sister on most things. If she had been forced to choose, she would have named Jane her favorite. Luckily, Kitty and Lydia were too self-absorbed to notice the preference, and Mary was too preoccupied with her own thoughts to care.

“He looks as if he could seat a horse bareback,” Kitty whispered a little too loudly to Lydia, to which that sister replied in a quieter voice, “It is she who has the thighs to seat a horse bareback.” The two giggled, believing themselves to be very clever in repeating the shocking wit of a soldier they had overheard in town. The remaining three sisters were content to ignore them, and their mother chose not to hear that which she did not wish to think upon.

An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards dispatched, and Mrs. Bennet had already 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 honor of their invitation. Mrs. Bennet was quite taken aback. She could not imagine what business he could have in town so soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire. 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. 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.

Immediately an introduction was sought by Mrs. Bennet, and Sir William was applied to for procuring it. She ushered her girls before the eligible Mr. Bingley. “May I present Miss Bennet,” Sir William said, gesturing toward the eldest, Jane, before moving on. “Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, Miss Lydia, and Miss Catherine Bennet.” As they were singled out to the newcomers, each girl bowed her head.

“Delighted,” said Mr. Bingley, smiling.

Mr. Bingley was good-looking and gentlemanlike with a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, merely looked the part of the gentleman. His sisters were fine women, with an air of decided fashion. They lacked the openness of their brother when greeting the Bennets. Elizabeth noted with both amusement and joy that Mr. Bingley’s shy gaze lingered a few seconds longer on Jane than anyone else. Jane appeared completely unaware of the attention, at least to those who were not so intimately acquainted with her moods as her dear sister. Elizabeth detected instantly the slight flush that threatened the composure of Jane’s face, as well as the quick lift of her chest as she inhaled, holding her breath several seconds too long.

This small exchange was soon lost on Elizabeth as her attentions turned to Mr. Bingley’s 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. Elizabeth was less impressed with his fortune and the rich cut of his jacket, though both tended to invoke an instant respect, and the general desire to like such a person. What she found striking were his blue eyes — deep and soulful, fixed with a kind of studious attention and profound knowledge seen only in the most worthy of men. As they were introduced and his attention fell upon her, she felt a stirring of interest inside her chest. Her heart beat quickened; her breath caught. He did not speak, merely nodded, the slight gesture showing neither pleasure nor disdain.

Afterwards, when they were away from him, she imagined him to glance in her direction, finding her foremost among her sisters, even before the widely acknowledged beauty of Jane. So preoccupied, she barely heard Jane comment on the politeness in which Mr. Bingley and his sisters spoke, and she almost missed the carefully calculated shrewdness of her mother in suggesting they stand in full view of the eligible gentlemen. She nodded, apparently answering both to satisfaction, though she would be hard pressed to repeat herself upon later contemplation.

Mr. Darcy turned, the movement giving way to the gracefulness of his limbs and trimness of his body. Unlike some men, he did not need padding to add the appearance of health beneath his clothes. The stiff material moved in such a way to suggest that the bulge of muscles were completely natural. Elizabeth was no fool. She had read things in books not meant for the eyes of young women, at least not till after they were married; but those passages, once so mysterious in their descriptions of attraction and the exploration of love suddenly felt very clear and extremely clever. Her heart beat quickened once more and warmth spread throughout her stomach. She forced her eyes to move, scanning the room before finding their way once more to the object of her interest. Mr. Darcy’s back was to her, and now that she did not have the distraction of his eyes, she found the breadth of his shoulders, squarely set, and the unmistakably mesmerizing shift of his hips beneath his jacket. A tingling warmth erupted beneath her flesh, rising in a blush across her cheeks.

When Mr. Bingley spoke, Mr. Darcy turned and his lips curled ever so slightly into a smile. The expression broke into the seriousness of his face. She imagined him to be a great many things in those first moments — a graceful dancer, an intelligent mind, a wild spirit, an amiable companion, a handsome and considerate man searching for the woman who might turn not only his head but his heart. As the heat continued to spread throughout her limbs, she silently willed him to look at her, to come across the room and ask her to dance, to touch her hand so that she may assure herself that he was real, to hold her a little too close during a waltz so the other women would know not to bother trying to turn his head — though some still found such close dancing improper. Had she allowed it, her mind would have taken the daydreams further — to a private walk, a lingering look, a hand upon her cheek tilting her lips to his, and to a sweet, stolen kiss while the laughter of the party faded into the background. Fortunately, the arrival of her dear friend, Charlotte Lucas, distracted such wanderings of the mind and she did not find herself foolishly blushing for all to see.

At first, her daydreams of Mr. Darcy’s character were affirmed most readily by those in attendance. The gentlemen 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. It was then the true nature of this quickly esteemed gentleman began to reveal itself. His manners gave a disgust which turned the tide of his popularity for 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 countenance, and of being unworthy to be compared with his friend. Elizabeth did not want to acknowledge the crushing truth, till she found herself the subject of his unwarranted disdain.

Elizabeth had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen, to sit down for two dances. 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.

“Come, Darcy,” he said, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner.”

Elizabeth might have looked pleasantly at the dancers, but her attention was fully fixed upon the conversation. She held her breath, not wanting to miss a single word.

“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 for a kingdom.” Mr. Bingley cried. “Upon my honor, I never met so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening, and there are several who are uncommonly pretty.”

“You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet. Elizabeth’s smile faltered and she felt as if someone pushed her into a cold lake.

“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 daresay very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.”

Elizabeth forced the smile back to her mouth, and lifted her hands to clap in time with the lively music. Perhaps the gentleman had forgotten about her when he made his generalized comment about the lack of beauty in the room.

“Which do you mean?” Turning round he looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said, “She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me. I am in no humor 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.”

And, then again, perhaps not. Elizabeth took a deep breath, and her smile became forcibly fixed upon her face.

Mr. Bingley followed his advice. As Mr. Darcy walked off, Elizabeth remained with no very cordial feelings toward him. She told the story, however, with great spirit among her friends for she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in anything ridiculous. It was easier to laugh at the nature of the slight than admit to the true depth of the wound.

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! Mr. Darcy danced only once with Mrs. Hurst and once with Miss Bingley, 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. Among the most violent against him was Mrs. Bennet, whose dislike of his general behavior was sharpened into resentment upon hearing he had slighted one of her daughters.

Lydia Bennet loved attending balls. She was a stout, well-grown girl, with a fine complexion and good-humored countenance. She was a favorite with her mother, whose affection had brought her into public at an early age. For this she could never fully express her gratitude and pleasure. Often Elizabeth would watch Lydia’s behavior with mortification. She was convinced Lydia wanted only encouragement to attach herself to anybody. Sometimes one gentleman, sometimes another, had been her favorite, as their attentions raised them in her opinion. Her affections had continually been fluctuating but never without an object. The mischief of neglect and mistaken indulgence towards such a girl were often acutely felt by her sisters.

Mr. Bennet often observed of this particular daughter, that it was from these affections of her mother that she had become sillier than the rest of them. Knowing such, he did not take pains to correct her behavior and Lydia was left to decide for herself the pleasures that were to be taken. And, since she did not feel it necessary to neglect herself any of life’s pleasures, she gave herself great leeway to enjoy them to the fullest.