Page 13 of The Countess and Her Sister

The Tilneys had let a townhouse very near the Fitzwilliam, Darcy, and Bingley residences, and Henry Tilney was especially loquacious in expressing a wish that they might all be diverting themselves together often.

Darcy was sure that they would, though it felt more of an inevitability to be endured as he was pushed at Lady Jane the moment he arrived.

Georgiana had spoken to him with great animation that day, eager to hear more of his courtship with their new cousin, though she was not to have the pleasure of attending such dinners until she officially came out in the autumn.

Darcy was utterly confounded; he had no trouble at all with his diffident sister, but the countess’s reserve seemed insurmountable.

He felt as if there were a great gaping hole betwixt them, into which every attempt at conversion fell at once, never to be found again.

Miss Bennet had done her best in previous encounters to lead them in pleasant chatter without putting herself forward, yet she merely exchanged the torment of stilted dialogue for that of a far greater agony for Darcy.

His eyes landed on her as soon as he entered the Tilneys’ drawing room.

Miss Bennet was dressed simply, her gown of fine quality in a flattering shade of lilac; she bore little embellishment to her frock or to her person, beyond the ivory ribbon wound through her thick chestnut curls.

Her finest adornment was the expression on her lovely visage as she surveyed the room.

Her smile was not perfectly symmetrical, but infused with mirth rendered frighteningly clever by the intelligence in her eyes and the confidence in her poise.

She seemed to understand all her companions perfectly, and reveled in her own private amusement at them.

Darcy knew she would not be amused if she comprehended his mind at that moment; he turned his attention to Lady Jane.

They spoke of the weather – it was neither too warm nor too cool, and not at all his best effort.

He inquired of what she had been reading lately, certain that hearing his sister's opinion of hundreds of novels must be of use to him at last, when Lady Jane answered that she had just purchased a book of pretty embroidery patterns.

Bingley came to his rescue. “I am sure you are talented enough to devise one of your own, Lady Jane. The arrangement of lilies and daffodils you showed me yesterday when I called was quite an accomplishment! But then, I suppose all young ladies are exceedingly accomplished.”

Caroline Bingley moved that way with an affected gasp. “All young ladies accomplished, Charles? Surely the countess must possess such charms and graces beyond what is commonly met with.”

Lady Jane blushed. “I have been – oh dear, I cannot quite say fortunate – but I have had the comfort of two years of mourning, with little else to do but improve myself. But then, the sweating sickness was terribly widespread, and sadly there must be many others who could make a similar claim.”

“I spent months trying to style myself a great artist after my mother died,” Bingley replied, giving Darcy a wink; Darcy had been shown a great many ill-proportioned renderings of horses, ships, and abominations that were as likely to be one as the other for all their shoddiness.

“My mourning was only compounded by my unceasing laments at my want of talent. I have resigned myself to no other accomplishment than being cheerful on social occasions.”

“I am not sure that is an accomplishment, though my brother seems intent on making certain people smile,” Miss Bingley said to the countess with a simpering smile.

“It cannot be called an accomplishment without endeavor,” Darcy replied. “It is effortless for you.”

“I should envy such a quality, as much as I might your artistic talent, if you had any.” Lady Jane began to smile at Bingley, but her eyes flashed with panic as she realized she had unwittingly insulted him.

Naturally, Bingley did not mind in the least, and his sister seemed to enjoy hearing his failure made sport of.

Darcy could not disagree with the countess’s sentiment; he had often envied Bingley’s affable ease.

He was on the verge of making some reply, when he saw that Miss Bennet had overheard their conversation and was keeping a very decided opinion to herself.

Her eyes sparkled, and Darcy began to extend his hand, beckoning her to join them.

She took a step toward them, her smile not for Darcy but for her sister.

“It does not follow that there cannot be any endeavor to acquire such a talent. As with painting or music, or a dozen other things one might consider accomplished, to be lively and gregarious in company one must simply practice.”

Lady Jane beamed at her sister, and Miss Bennet gave her an encouraging nod. “Forgive me, Jane – I heard your conversation and it caught my attention – not to say that it was not fascinating to listen to the general attempting to flirt with Mamma.”

Miss Bennet inclined her head to the companions she had moved away from, her lips pressed together to suppress her amusement.

Darcy glanced over at his host, who was red faced as he attempted to charm the dowager.

Nearby, Rebecca looked on as if she were watching a runaway carriage fall off a bridge.

Dinner was called, and General Tilney led Lady Augusta into the dining room.

Darcy offered his arm to the countess, but discovered that they were not seated near one another at the dinner table.

Lady Jane had been afforded a place of distinction beside their host, with a delighted Henry Tilney seated on her other side.

Darcy went down the length of the table, and as he walked toward Rebecca, who was already suffering at Captain Tilney’s left hand side, she swatted at her cousin.

“No, I am sure you have no wish to sit beside me, Darcy. You have complained of my perfume all evening. Go and sit there – nobody will mind if you trade places with Mr. Bingley.”

Darcy furrowed his brow; he had not spoken to his cousin at all since he had arrived, beyond a civil greeting.

Bingley had just rested his hand atop the chair between Miss Bennet and Miss Bingley.

He shrugged at Darcy. “I need not sit beside my sister, though I daresay your cousin thinks me better company, old chap. Well, you can sit beside Miss Bennet and take her advice – practice being agreeable.”

Bingley came around to the other side of the table, opposite the seat he left open for Darcy, who moved that way with a look of alarm that he was sure must mirror Miss Bennet’s expression.

“Rebecca,” she laughed nervously. “You promised you would not be wicked.”

“A promise I may wickedly break, though Mr. Bingley is quite safe. I intend only to oblige.” Rebecca grinned with impish cheer.

Darcy shifted nervously in his seat. She meant to oblige herself , for surely his nettlesome cousin had detected his irrepressible interest in Miss Bennet. She had placed Darcy between a goddess, and whatever manner of succubus Miss Bingley was.

Fortunately, Miss Bingley was distracted by the attention of Captain Tilney.

The general had arranged his table with an evident design to give his children every advantage; they were all three seated between eligible prospects.

Clearly General Tilney meant for his eldest son to woo Miss Bingley or Rebecca’s dowry into their estate, while pushing his youngest son away from the pulpit and into the arms of a widowed countess.

Only Miss Tilney seemed displeased with her lot, seated between Richard and Bingley – though she did not seem to repine that the latter ought to have been Darcy.

She simply ignored everybody and smiled awkwardly at her plate.

Darcy feared he was in danger of doing the same.

He worried that if he spoke, he would only draw Miss Bingley’s overbearing attention.

Or worse, he might fall into another effortlessly delightful conversation with the countess’s sister.

Rebecca was poised and ready to scrutinize him if he gave in to such an indulgence.

He could not hold out for long.

***

Elizabeth could not make sense of herself.

If Mr. Bingley had remained in the seat beside her, she would have happily conversed with him all evening, and without a hint of guilt or any other discomfort.

But when Mr. Darcy took that seat, Elizabeth could scarcely remain in possession of herself.

To speak to him would feel disloyal – to enjoy it would be theft.

And yet, she was sure that Mr. Darcy was not Jane’s preference, for Mr. Bingley had called almost daily at Matlock House in the fortnight they had known him.

Jane’s indefatigably amiable suitor was still content to amuse Elizabeth, thankfully.

After a moment of betraying his anxiety at being seated beside Rebecca, he gave her a conspiratorial wink before addressing Elizabeth.

“Lady Rebecca, just before we left the drawing room, Miss Bennet said something to shock and amaze me, which I am moved now to repeat to you. Your sister is better at bearing up under your teasing than I am, and so I must begin by deflecting directly.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened and she took the bait with relish. “Are you bewildering Mr. Bingley without me, Lizzy?”

Elizabeth gave a soft chuckle, feeling Mr. Darcy’s gaze shift between herself and her sister with confused severity. “Apparently I have managed it, though I cannot think what it may be.”