Page 24 of The Briar Bargain (The Rom Com Collection #3)
"I do not know Lady Frances," Jane said, gently, “but she must be a very discerning woman."
Miss Bingley stilled. "You are generous, Miss Bennet."
"Not at all. I merely believe that kindness deserves recognition wherever it is found."
Mrs. Hurst looked amused. "And Charles is rather lavish with his kindness, is he not?"
Jane’s smile was beatific. "He has been very considerate to us, yes. But I cannot claim any distinction in that. He is so with everyone."
Miss Bingley gave a light laugh, though her eyes were flinty. "You are remarkably humble. One might think you had never had a compliment in your life."
"Oh, I am often complimented," said Jane sweetly. "But I do not find it wise to believe them all."
Elizabeth turned quickly to hide her smile. She doubted Miss Bingley had been bested so neatly in some time.
"But of course," said Miss Bingley after a moment, recovering, "one must be cautious. The appearance of favour can lead to unfortunate misapprehensions."
Jane’s response was mild. "Certainly. But do you not find that misapprehensions tend to reveal more about the one presuming than the one presumed upon?"
Mrs. Hurst cleared her throat. "What a sweet notion,” she said, her tone no longer so confident. “But hardly fashionable.”
"Then it is fortunate," Elizabeth replied, "that we are not in London. Observation of character is enough for us."
Mrs. Hurst made a soft sound of amusement. "You must be very observant indeed. "
"I strive to be," Elizabeth said, her tone bright. "Particularly when the company is so revealing."
The needle in Jane’s hand hesitated, then resumed without a word.
Miss Bingley exhaled slowly. "Your wit must be such a treasure to your neighbours, Miss Eliza."
"Oh, she is,” Jane replied. “Lizzy’s company is always sought after.”
A faint hum of amusement passed between Mr. Bingley’s sisters.
“You are a great success in Meryton, Miss Eliza,” Miss Bingley said. “But I would warn you that those in our circle do not always prize liveliness as highly as country society might.”
Mrs. Hurst leaned in slightly, as if confiding an unfortunate truth. "Perhaps that is why . . . well, a gentleman of true consequence may feel obliged to be kind, especially to those who seem in need of assistance."
Elizabeth could not be blind to the insinuation. She raised her chin slightly and uttered a sentence that would have shocked most of her friends and relations. “If you are speaking of Mr. Darcy, he is a true gentleman."
"Indeed," said Mrs. Hurst. "He is so attentive. Almost paternal with those younger ladies who might benefit from guidance."
"A touching image," said Elizabeth. She meant it in jest, but she did begin to see that he might make a very good sort of father one day.
“He is exactly the same with his sister,” Miss Bingley continued, as though Elizabeth had said nothing. “She was very young when her father died, and Mr. Darcy has nearly raised her himself.”
“Charles quite adores Miss Darcy,” Mrs. Hurst added. “She has become so accomplished.”
Elizabeth was thoroughly diverted. How neatly Mrs. Hurst had swept both gentlemen from consideration—Mr. Bingley destined for Miss Darcy, and Mr. Darcy decidedly not for Elizabeth.
The Bingley sisters seemed unsettled by the attention Mr. Darcy had bestowed upon her.
Only Elizabeth knew that his attentions were but a ploy to keep her from departing and casting a shadow upon his friend’s reputation in the neighbourhood.
Still, she was perfectly willing to allow the ladies to believe it for a few days. Indeed, she relished it.
She glanced at the doorway, hoping for the sound of footsteps or a voice from the hall. She wished to hear what Mr. Darcy would have to say. But the silence persisted.
“Is Miss Darcy out?” Jane inquired with all her usual calm. “I thought I understood from your brother that she is not.”
Elizabeth turned an innocent expression of interest back to the two scheming shrews before her.
“In a year or two,” Mrs. Hurst informed them. “Not long now.”
“Some presentations are worth waiting for,” Miss Bingley added with a smug little smile.
Another silence bloomed, polite, rigid, and uneasy.
Elizabeth let it stand.
At last, the sound of masculine voices and approaching footsteps announced the gentlemen's return. Elizabeth read the mantel clock and was surprised that they had not been separated for more than half an hour, and she was grateful the men had not tarried over their port.
The door opened. Mr. Bingley entered and immediately took the seat nearest Jane, who met him with a bright smile. Mr. Darcy followed more circumspectly, but Elizabeth noted that he positioned himself where he could easily intervene should Miss Bingley attempt another assault.
Too late, she thought. But it was not Mr. Darcy’s fault that he could not accompany the ladies after dinner. Miss Bingley was the hostess, in name, at least, and therefore the arrangements were within her purview .
Mr. Hurst brought up the rear, making directly for his favourite chair near the decanter, where he commenced the serious business of ensuring his glass was never entirely emptied.
“Young Peter is still asking after his rabbits,” Mr. Bingley said ruefully. “I have assured him that if they have decided they wish to burrow in another place that we shall find him new ones. The finest rabbits in Hertfordshire, with hutches this time!"
"How generous of you, Charles," Miss Bingley said, sounding as though she found the entire conversation tedious. "I confess I am surprised that Miss Eliza has not offered to search for the creatures herself. After all, her adventurous spirit seems particularly suited to such an endeavour."
Elizabeth wanted to sigh, but before she could, Jane had already begun to speak in her kind way.
"How thoughtful of you to suggest it, Miss Bingley. Though I believe Elizabeth has already done quite enough for the Farrow family, having saved young Peter's life at considerable risk to her own."
Elizabeth could not see Jane’s eyes from where she stood, but something in them made Miss Bingley's smile falter slightly. "Perhaps those of us who remained safely indoors might consider what we could contribute to the family's welfare instead?"
Jane delivering a set-down with such gentle precision was rather like watching a butterfly wield a rapier.
Mr. Bingley rushed to support her. "Miss Bennet is quite right! The families have been most grateful for the assistance they have received. Mrs. Nicholls mentioned that you have been particularly helpful with the children, Miss Bennet."
"It has been my pleasure," Jane replied warmly. "The children are delightful, and their parents have been so patient despite their difficult circumstances. "
"Patient indeed," Mrs. Hurst remarked. There was an edge to her voice. "Though I suppose they cannot ever before have lived in such comfort."
“If you think a man with a family who has his own home would give it up to live in the servants’ quarters, no matter the size of the manor, you are as daft as your sister,” Hurst grumbled.
Mrs. Hurst's fan snapped open with enough force to startle the cat sleeping by the fire.
Elizabeth chanced a look at Mr. Darcy. He was watching the exchange with the alert interest of a chess master observing his opponent's moves.
Miss Bingley's smile had become so strained that Elizabeth feared it would shortly give way to open displeasure.
Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, her fingers resting briefly atop Jane’s on the armrest between them. It was a silent signal of sisterly solidarity.
Mr. Darcy, still silent, took a seat not far from Elizabeth. His gaze met hers. There was no smile, no overt communication, yet something unspoken passed between them, an acknowledgement, perhaps, of the absurd performance they had all just witnessed. He did not speak, but he remained near.
The fire crackled in the hearth. Jane resumed her needlework while Mr. Bingley leaned in close, murmuring something that drew a quiet laugh from her lips. Elizabeth exhaled, allowing herself the luxury of a moment’s ease, and reached for some work of her own.
Across the room, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst conferred in whispers once more, but the edge of their earlier confidence had dulled. Elizabeth could not find it in herself to worry what new plan they might devise. There would be time enough tomorrow.