Page 13 of Disarmed

A t the dinner table, Darcy was fortunate enough to be seated opposite Elizabeth.

There was little formality to the occasion, it simply being he and Bingley joining a family meal, but Mrs Bennet still insisted he take the place to her husband’s right, and with the object of his desire seated in the chair to her father’s left, he would be able to observe her and converse with her for the duration of the meal.

To his other side sat Miss Catherine, the Bennet daughter whom he had observed the least. She seemed determined to keep her head turned towards Miss Lydia on her other side rather than risk looking at Darcy at all.

The girl genuinely seemed afraid of him.

He could not help but be reminded of his own sister.

Despite her superior education and breeding compared with the Bennets, Georgiana had no more confidence or social grace than the girl next to him.

A tingling in his neck caused him to turn. Mr Bennet’s eyes were on him, and he offered his host a polite smile. Mr Bennet’s expression was more a smirk.

“I do not imagine you are used to such simple meals as we enjoy at Longbourn, Mr Darcy,” he said, raising his glass and taking a slow sip of his wine, all the while eyeing his guest with amusement.

“My cousin, while he was with us, expounded on the dinners at your aunt’s table.

I am sorry we cannot compete with her elaborate banquets. ”

Miss Elizabeth looked decidedly uncomfortable, and the look she gave him seemed to be one of apology.

“On the contrary, sir,” he replied, “my aunt practises a great deal of economy in many areas of her life. She is most intolerant of gluttony and does not believe in spending more than is absolutely necessary on food. She and her daughter have small appetites, and when my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam and I visit her, which we do at least once a year, we often take a luncheon at the local inn so as to satisfy our hunger.”

Mr Bennet was looking at him with raised eyebrows, so he hastily added, “I am not accusing my aunt of meanness, more that her household is used to feeding only two ladies, and we would not wish to inconvenience them with our rather greater need for sustenance.”

His host only grunted in response and chewed his food slowly, no doubt disappointed that he had failed to provoke Darcy. He forcibly subdued a rush of anger; he did not wish to spoil the meal.

“You have a cousin in the army, then, sir?” Miss Elizabeth enquired.

“Yes. He and I share guardianship of my sister, and he is one of my closest friends,” Darcy said. “More like a brother, really.”

“And does your sister give you much trouble?” Mr Bennet asked. “If she is anything like Lydia and Kitty, I am very sorry for you.”

Miss Catherine’s head turned sharply in their direction, her face pink and her eyes wide. Darcy could only imagine what she must feel to have her father speak about her in such a way to a guest at the dinner table.

“In fact, I believe my sister may be very similar to Miss Catherine,” he said, with a small smile towards the stricken girl.

“She is kind and curious…and a little shy. Still young, of course, but eager to learn. It is not only my duty but my privilege ”—he emphasized the word—“to guide her as she becomes a young woman in society.”

Miss Catherine gave a small smile and lifted a handkerchief to dab her eyes. Darcy noticed the delicate embroidery on the corner. “And she is also accomplished with a needle,” he added. “Is this your own work?” he asked gently, inclining his head towards the fabric.

She nodded. “Yes. I…I do not spend as much time on it as I should, but I do enjoy it.”

“You should give yourself more credit, Kitty,” Miss Elizabeth said. “You are very talented. Those clothes you sewed for Mrs Jackson’s baby were exquisite.”

Mr Bennet seemed to have ceased to pay attention to the conversation.

Darcy did not dare hope that he might have given the man something to think about regarding his family.

He was not entirely sure why he was trying.

The Bennets seemed to have affected him in some strange way.

First Miss Elizabeth, then Miss Lydia, and now Miss Catherine.

He had been changed. Made to think of the plight of others.

His parents had given him good principles, but he had followed them in a proud and conceited manner, expecting others to adhere to the same standards without thought to the differences in their upbringing and opportunities and how that might affect their ability to improve themselves.

He smiled to himself. He liked the change. The Bennets had given him perspective. He had never thought of himself as having a narrow view of the world before, but only spending time with those in his close circle had lessened his understanding of society, of humanity.

Across the table, Miss Elizabeth was smiling at him—a smile of genuine appreciation with a hint of curiosity. Like him, she was probably wondering where this new, considerate man had come from. He hoped she might want to get to know that new man better.

∞∞∞

“I think I should like to have a brother,” Kitty commented as she stabbed her needle through some fabric, her head bent low to see in the dim light.

The gentlemen from Netherfield had left not a quarter of an hour before, and Mr Bennet had immediately retired, leaving the ladies in the drawing room to ruminate over the evening.

“Well, we all wish you had a brother, of course,” her mother said sharply.

“A brother for you girls would lessen my worries considerably, let me tell you. And the Lord knows I have done all I can, but it is too late now.” She turned to Jane, reaching over and squeezing her hand.

“But my eldest daughter has done her duty and caught herself a most eligible man! I am certain he must mean to propose soon. Calling here on his way back from London and then returning for dinner—I knew you could not be so beautiful for nothing!”

Jane’s face was pink, but she wore a smile of blissful contentment.

“Now, if only we could arrange for you to spend some time alone with him, I am sure he would grasp the opportunity—”

“Mama!” Jane’s colour deepened considerably as she looked at her mother in horror, but Mrs Bennet was not put off.

“Sometimes these men just need a little helping hand, my dear. Perhaps a walk into Meryton would be just the thing. Yes! He said he would call on Monday, so Lizzy, you suggest the walk—that is just the sort of thing you might do—and invite Jane and Mr Bingley to join you. Then you can stride on ahead as you usually do and—” She stopped abruptly, frowning.

“But what if he brings that friend of his with him? You will have to distract him, Lizzy. You can talk to him about books. Put all that reading of yours to good use, finally. But I am sorry you will have to bear his company, especially since you were the one he insulted at the assembly. I know he is unpleasant, but—”

“I do not think he is unpleasant.” Everyone turned to stare at Kitty, whose countenance was set firmly in a manner most unlike her. Mrs Bennet’s eyes were so wide that Elizabeth feared they might burst from their sockets.

Kitty’s confidence floundered under the scrutiny, and she ducked her head again, squinting at her needlework. “He admired my embroidery,” she murmured.

Mrs Bennet threw up her hands. “Well, one compliment does not mean an awful lot—”

“I do not think him unpleasant either,” Lydia said in a firm tone.

Their mother’s head twisted sharply towards her youngest daughter, and she observed her for a moment.

“I did not expect him to ask you to dance at Netherfield, I shall grant you, though you are so lively and pretty that it is not surprising any man would want to stand up with you. But did he also compliment you?” She peered at Lydia as if seeing her for the first time, and Elizabeth could see her mother’s mind calculating whether it would be worth attempting to push her favourite daughter towards an unpleasant man who, after all, did have ten thousand a year .

Would Lydia actually be opposed to the idea?

Her youngest sister was thoughtful for a moment. “He said he did not believe I was a fool,” she said slowly.

Elizabeth bit back a laugh. A compliment indeed!

“He said I reminded him of his sister!” Kitty was not to be bested by Lydia.

“He said I was quite clever!” Lydia shot back.

“Girls, girls!” cried Mrs Bennet. “Why on earth are you arguing about Mr Darcy?” Elizabeth was wondering the same thing.

Kitty looked petulant. “He was most kind to me at dinner,” she said, sniffing. “He told me about his sister and how she has embroidered him a handkerchief every year for his birthday since she was seven years old.”

Lydia looked unimpressed. “We talked about Shakespeare,” she said.

If Elizabeth had taken a sip of her drink at that moment, she would have spat it across the room.

“Now you are just making up stories,” her mother said. “In any case, I do not understand why you are in such a rush to approve of Mr Darcy. What about what he did to poor Mr Wickham?”

Kitty’s expression was sheepish, but Lydia replied, “Perhaps Mr Wickham is the one making up stories, Mama. Why would he want to share his woes with strangers he had only just met? And why did he not come to the ball at Netherfield when he declared he would not allow Mr Darcy’s presence to keep him away? ”

There was a surprising amount of maturity in Lydia’s questions, and they gave Elizabeth pause. Contemplating them in a room with her bickering sisters would not be fruitful though, so she put them aside for when she found some solitude.

“Oh, who cares about Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham? Mr Bingley is back in the neighbourhood, and we must secure him for Jane as soon as may be!” Mrs Bennet had once again managed to return the conversation to her favourite subject, and Elizabeth resigned herself to listening to her expound upon it until they retired.