Page 4 of Penned by Mr Darcy (…By Mr Darcy #3)

Elizabeth

T hat evening, Lizzy left Jane to rest as she joined the rest of the household for dinner.

Mercifully, their things arrived from Longbourn.

She changed into a pretty, clean gown that was normally reserved for the very best occasions.

Here, if she suspected correctly, every dinner was considered a very best of occasions by Miss Bingley.

When she arrived in the drawing room, she was relieved to be dressed so well.

Caroline and Mrs Hurst had made every effort, even bearing feathers in their hair.

Lizzy wore no such embellishments. She did not hold much affection for the current trends, thinking it made one’s hair look rather like a bird’s nest. Her own wild curls did not need any assistance on that score.

“Miss Eliza! How nice of you to join us,” Caroline greeted her with a smile.

She did not miss the pointed movement of Miss Bingley’s eyes up and down the length of her body.

“I thank you once more for the invitation.”

“You are my guest, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr Bingley said, a broad smile on his face. “And as long as you are here, and able to leave your sister for a time, you are to dine with us and sit with us and partake in join us for each meal and for any other activities as you that please you.”

“You are too kind. I trust you have all had a pleasant day?”

Caroline replied before anyone else could take the opportunity.

“Save for our anxieties over your sister’s condition, our day was very agreeable. Though, the weather has kept us from riding out. I do so love to ride. I find myself feeling quite cooped up when I must stay indoors all day.”

“I do understand. I feel quite the same about walking. I am afraid I have never been a talented horsewoman, but I do dearly love to walk.”

“Tomorrow we must all go for a walk together. I am sure you know all the secret paths strangers would not think to go!” Mr Bingley enthused.

Everyone’s eyes turned to her, save for Mr Darcy. He did not raise his eyes towards her, staring instead somewhere around her middle.

“I am not sure I would put it quite like that, but I have walked often around Netherfield. I should be glad to join you, if my sister’s health allows it.”

“Splendid! Let us go through.”

Mr Bingley offered her his arm, and she took it with a smile. The dining room was beautiful in the evening’s darkness, bathed in a candlelight glow that almost made it feel like a dream. It was quite removed from the cold lunch she had taken there earlier that day.

She took the same seat she had at lunchtime, and Mr Darcy once more took his place next to her.

She had rather hoped for a different person to sit next to her, but with Mr Bingley at one head of the table and Caroline at the other, there were few other choices.

Mr Darcy was at least more desirable a companion than Mr Hurst, who was already shiny red with drink.

Mr Darcy said nothing, his body poker-straight in his chair and his eyes fixed firmly on the table in front of him.

Elizabeth made no effort to rouse him from his staring at the crockery; she supposed that he was still very angry with her for spoiling his work that afternoon.

It was not her fault that the man was so easily startled that he had spilled ink all over the pages.

“Good evening, Mr Darcy,” Lizzy said eventually, when she could stand the silence no longer.

“Good evening.”

She was not quite sure what to say next; her day had not been particularly interesting, and she already knew from Mr Bingley that the rest of the house had done little of note.

If she had begun a conversation with someone else, perhaps they could be trusted to continue it, but after a beat had passed between them, it was clear that Mr Darcy had no intention of making any further remarks.

“Tell me, Mr Darcy, how fares Georgiana?” Caroline asked from across the table. “I saw at breakfast this morning you had received a great number of letters. I thought, surely one must be from your darling sister.”

“My sister is in excellent health, I thank you.”

Lizzy had heard only a little of the young Miss Darcy from previous conversations with Miss Bingley and her sister, who never failed to praise the talents and merits of the mysterious young girl.

She knew that Miss Darcy had been left behind at Pemberley with a governess – or a companion, she supposed, if the girl was almost old enough to make her debut.

“I wish she had joined us here. The day she comes out in society will be such a happy one. I do not think there will be a girl finer in all of the country; she will be the true jewel of the court.”

“You will have a while to wait, Miss Bingley. It is my intention that she reach the age of seventeen at the very least before her presentation”

“A wise decision, Mr Darcy, wise indeed! There is something quite vulgar about a girl too young out in society; they do their families and society a great discredit.”

Lizzy did not miss the targeted barb; Lydia and Kitty had both been far younger than seventeen when they made their debut into society.

The pair of them had hardly been discreet in their thorough enjoyment of the Meryton Assembly, the first time they had made Miss Bingley’s acquaintance.

Lizzy knew their voices were always too shrill, their laughter too easy, their conversation too unguarded.

“Indeed.”

“Miss Eliza, dear Georgiana is the most wonderful pianist. She is in possession of such skill and proficiency the likes of which I am sure I have never seen in one so young. She is quite the model of all a girl ought to be, isn’t she, Mr Darcy?”

“I believe so.”

“I would be pleased to hear the standards to which you hold young ladies, Miss Bingley. You clearly have strong feelings on the matter.”

“Well, of course I do. A fine young woman must be educated in all manner of disciplines. They must dance, of course, and a musical talent is always appreciated. Singing, in my opinion, is the fairest talent. And then, they must be familiar with the modern languages. Artistic skill, too, is invaluable.”

Lizzy tried not to laugh at Caroline’s impossible description of a woman she was certain did not exist.

“I would add that extensive reading across a broad range of subjects is essential. A woman who reads is immune to ignorance, and that is an accomplishment of its own.” Mr Darcy said.

She raised an eyebrow at his sudden impassioned proclamation. She had not requested his opinion, but she was not surprised that he felt compelled to give it.

“Ignorant and accomplished are relative terms, thoughI do wonder if your idea of a woman exists at all. I have never met her.”

“I believe a truly accomplished woman is a rarity, but I do not think as harshly on your sex as you do, Miss Elizabeth, to doubt their existence entirely.”

She turned to him – for she had conducted this conversation scarcely looking at him at all – but found that words escaped her.

“We must all have our own opinions,” she said finally. “I am sure you hold yours with as much conviction as I do mine.”

“Yes.”

“And will not resist much teasing on that score? ”

“Tease Mr Darcy?,” Caroline interjected at once, most earnestly. “Impossible! He does not hold well with it at all.”

“Is that true, sir? Not even in good nature?”

“Would it be in good nature, Miss Elizabeth?” he asked in a low voice, so quietly that she almost had to lean in to hear him.

She straightened, chastened at once by the change in him.

She was reminded of Jane; how suddenly a misplaced barb could cause her to go in on herself.

Could his facade of arrogance simply be the result of a shy and reserved nature?

He held such an air of confidence and pride that her sister lacked, and she refused to believe that his sensitivity was due to any other reason than belief in his own self-importance.

She recalled her sister’s request that she keep a civil tongue. She could not bear to disappoint her sister, and so for that reason alone, she moved to make things right.

“It was not my intention to wound you,” she said softly. “I apologise for any offence.”

“Thank you.”

She frowned, watching as he reached for his glass of wine and took a deep gulp.

She could not help but watch the movement of his throat as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing and disappearing into his cravat.

He moved slowly, in a manner that reminded her of something feline.

Each motion was considered, and she wondered if there was anything in his life that he did not hold in his meticulous grasp.

Caroline began speaking once more, and Elizabeth made no further effort to contribute to the conversation.

She finished her soup, determined to enjoy Netherfield’s excellent cook to the fullest during her stay, and listened to those around her make idle conversation.

It was only as dessert, a rich looking steamed pudding that Lizzy could not immediately identify, was served that her silence was remarked upon.

“I do hope you aren’t sickening as well, Miss Eliza. You look terribly pale.”

“I am quite well, I assure you; just a little tired. I am sorry if I am poor company this evening.”

“You are fine company,” Mr Bingley interjected. “Isn’t she, Darcy?”

Mr Darcy’s head snapped towards her, and she realised he was holding his glass of wine so tightly that his knuckles were white. It was a wonder it had not smashed beneath his ferocious grip, mercifully empty though it was

“Indeed.”

He set the glass down, and Lizzy noticed that his cheeks were rather red.

How much wine had he taken? Was her company, her proximity, so unbearable to him that it had pushed him to drink?

She reached for her own glass and knocked the remainder of the wine back, swallowing thickly.

If he thought he had the right to resort to alcohol to endure her company, then she certainly had every right to do the same!

She resumed her silence as pudding was served, though she listened as Caroline and Mrs Hurst tried desperately to engage Mr Darcy in conversation. Dessert, at least, was delicious. She waited eagerly for the rest of the party to finish so that she could make her excuses and return to Jane.

“Capital grub,” Mr Hurst said, leaning back in his chair. “You ought to take this cook back with you, you know.”

“Oh, I do not have to think about that for a good long while,” Mr Bingley smiled.

“I was saying to Miss Elizabeth this afternoon that I am enjoying Hertfordshire. I would very much like to remain for the festive season. Darcy will have his own plans, I am sure, but I should like to celebrate with all of our new friends.”

“I will spend Christmas with my sister,” Mr Darcy said. “In London, or in Kent with my aunt.”

“I should so like to return to London,” Caroline sighed. “There is nothing quite so fine as London during the festive season. The decorations! The fashions! I am sure you could not imagine, Miss Elizabeth, for the country does so lack the creativity of the city.”

Elizabeth did not rise to the bait.

“I’m sure a country Christmas is just as pleasant, Caroline,” Mr Bingley said. “Shall we go for brandy, Darcy, Hurst? I am sure the ladies have much to discuss.”

The men departed, and Elizabeht rose from her seat to wordlessly follow Caroline and Mrs Hurst into the small sitting room next door, She found the segregation of men and women after dinner most tiresome; the men went off to smoke cigars and drink brandy and speak of matters of politics, while the women passed the time speaking of lace and the business of others.

“Tomorrow we shall go out for a walk, as my brother said. You need not join us, Miss Eliza, if your sister requires your attention. Indeed, we have seen a great deal of you in your short time here. Do not feel that you must leave her; that is why you are here, after all.”

“I should be pleased to join the walk if my sister’s health allows.”

Caroline smiled tightly.

“Splendid.”

“In fact, I think I shall retire for the night to ensure my sister’s comfort. Please, bid the gentlemen a goodnight on my behalf..”

Caroline and her sister rose, dropping into the barest hint of a curtsey as Elizabeth echoed their gesture. She left the parlour and headed towards the main staircase – only to find that she was not the only person with such an intention.

Mr Darcy emerged from the smoking room, stopping short as he caught sight of her. He really was the most peculiar man. For one so rich and influential, he had the appearance of a rabbit caught in a trap far too often.

“I am retiring for the night,” she said.

“As am I.”

“Goodnight, Mr Darcy.”

“Might I walk you to your sister’s room?”

Elizabeth hesitated. The request, though unexpected, was hardly improper—after all, they were headed the same way.

To refuse him would be needlessly discourteous and would only result in an awkward silence with him trailing at her heels.

She had no desire to feel his presence looming behind her the entire walk.

It would be better to at least walk side by side as they ignored one another.

“Yes.”