Page 4

Elizabeth sat quietly as her mother prattled on, her enthusiasm unchecked by either Mr. Bennet’s dry interjections or the evident fatigue of her daughters.

Though the familiarity of the evening’s events was a comfort in some respects, Elizabeth could not remain idle.

She knew too well what course of events this unguarded conversation might set in motion.

It was not merely her mother’s matchmaking tendencies that concerned her; it was the exaggerated praise of Mr. Bingley, the overt glee at Jane’s success, and the unchecked criticism of Mr. Darcy that could, if left unchallenged, shape opinions to the detriment of all.

Taking a steady breath, she spoke, careful to keep her tone light and unaffected.

“Indeed, Mama, I do not see why we should trouble ourselves with Mr. Darcy’s opinion at all.

It is clear he thinks himself above our company, and perhaps he is not mistaken in that belief.

It is hardly surprising that a man of his consequence should be reserved among strangers. ”

Mrs. Bennet huffed. “Well! That may be so, but it does not excuse his rudeness. You may wish to spare my feelings, Lizzy, but it is no use. I have already heard the dreadful thing he said about you—from Mrs. Long, no less! And if she knows of it, then half the town surely does by now.”

Elizabeth met her mother’s gaze evenly, though she could already see that reason would do little to dissuade her.

“I do not doubt that his words were ungracious, but we must not let a single remark define him entirely. Mr. Bingley seems greatly attached to him, and surely a man of Mr. Bingley’s character would not form a friendship with someone entirely without merit.

Perhaps Mr. Darcy is merely reserved and not so very proud as he appears. ”

Kitty and Lydia, who had thus far been content to exclaim over Bingley’s amiability and the charms of red coats, now turned their attention to Elizabeth. Lydia scoffed. “La! What does it matter if he is proud? No one needs to care for his opinion.”

Elizabeth inclined her head slightly. “That may be so, but consider—if he is to remain in Hertfordshire as Mr. Bingley’s guest, would it not be wise to be civil to him? Even if he is not likely to admire us, surely it is better to be courteous rather than confirm his ill opinion of our society.”

Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips. “Well, I am sure I care nothing for his opinion. But if you mean to say that we should not take notice of his rudeness, then perhaps you are right. Yes, yes, we shall be so very civil that he shall have nothing to complain of.”

Elizabeth smiled slightly. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

If she could not alter the past entirely, she could at least temper its course.

Perhaps, just perhaps, she might succeed in ensuring that her family’s conduct would not be the reason for Fitzwilliam Darcy’s departure from Hertfordshire—or for his mistaken belief in Jane’s indifference.

When Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been cautious in her praise of Mr. Bingley before, expressed to her sister how very much she admired him.

“He is just what a young man ought to be,” said she, “sensible, good-humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners! so much ease, with such perfect good breeding!”

“He is also handsome,” replied Elizabeth, “which a young man ought likewise to be if he possibly can. His character is thereby complete. ”

Jane blushed but smiled. “I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second time. I did not expect such a compliment.”

“Did not you? I did for you. But that is one great difference between us. Compliments always take you by surprise, and me never. What could be more natural than his asking you again? He could not help seeing that you were about five times as pretty as every other woman in the room. No thanks to his gallantry for that.”

Jane shook her head, laughing. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is simple. He admired you and wished to dance with you again. But, Jane, tell me—when he does something that particularly pleases you, will you not let him see it? A man, no matter how amiable, cannot be expected to understand a woman’s every thought unless she gives him some hint.”

Jane’s blush deepened. “Lizzy! I would not presume—”

“Oh, do not mistake me; I would never urge you to be forward. Only… if you are pleased with him, it is no great crime to let him know. A smile, a word of gratitude—such things are hardly scandalous.”

Jane hesitated but then nodded. “I shall consider it.”

Elizabeth was satisfied. If she could do anything to prevent the misunderstandings that had once threatened to separate her sister from happiness, she would.

Her thoughts turned then to Mr. Bingley’s sisters.

She had never liked them, and tonight had only confirmed that sentiment.

They were proud, artificial creatures, forever watching the room to determine whom it was proper to favour.

Even after Jane’s marriage to Mr. Bingley, Elizabeth would only tolerate them.

She found some amusement in the word ‘tolerate’ now, after this evening’s dance.

Indeed, time would reveal that even Jane and Bingley distanced themselves.

Miss Bingley spent more time with the Hursts than with her brother, except when they were all in town, and only then to continue her pursuit of a husband.

Since her marriage, they had hardly seen her at all. Elizabeth smiled to herself.

Her smile softened as her thoughts drifted elsewhere.

As she closed her eyes, she found herself picturing her husband.

Poor Fitzwilliam. How he would have suffered at such an assembly, forced to endure an evening of lively, unfamiliar company after traveling all day.

He would never admit it, of course, but she knew him too well.

He had likely spent the evening in a foul mood, made worse by a lingering headache and his heart ache from leaving his sister too soon .

She sighed, suddenly missing the comforting weight of his arms around her. Soon enough, she would wake, and he would be there. He must be. Until then, she must do her best to guide her family towards a different path, one that might ensure a better future for them all.