Page 27 of The Happiness of a Most Beloved Sister (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

Such elation shrivelled when he accidentally met Miss Bennet’s gaze over Elizabeth’s shoulder.

It was cold, as he had come to expect from her, and contained a hint of calculation in the way her eyes roved up and down the lengths of their figures.

It seemed that she had learnt to look past the end of her own nose to see what had taken Mrs Gardiner mere seconds to observe between him and her sister.

Darcy’s own eyes narrowed in response, and she looked away, staring vacantly at Bingley as he made love to her.

“Bingley, we ought to leave.”

“Oh yes, of course. I shall see you anon, Miss Bennet.” Bingley smacked a kiss against the back of Miss Bennet’s hand, garnering an affectedly bashful smile in return.

Said smile dimmed the moment Bingley’s back was turned, and he thought he caught Miss Bennet discreetly wiping her hand against her skirts.

Darcy bit his tongue and swiftly left. He made a point of looking at Elizabeth one final time before crossing the threshold, not wishing Miss Bennet’s disdain to be his last image of this otherwise encouraging visit.

Her delightfully arch smile was exactly the balm he required, and it would have to sustain him until the morrow.

As he and Bingley mounted their horses and started off in the direction of Mayfair, Darcy found himself subjected to a panegyric on the incomparable loveliness of Miss Bennet.

“Her countenance is exquisite, is it not? And yet, she is no vain peacock! To the contrary, she is all angelic sweetness to one and all.” When Bingley paused to sigh, Darcy thought he might be sick.

“Have you ever met anyone so perfect, Darcy?”

Darcy was at once recalled to that evening at Netherfield when Elizabeth had teased him over his own purported perfection and thought he now better understood her satirical observation.

Those who declared themselves without defect were often guilty of invisible sins and merely benefited from others not understanding the depth of them.

While Darcy himself had no such pretension as to consider himself a man without fault, as he had told Elizabeth then, still she had shown perspicacity in recognising that he merely hid them beneath his veneer of reserve.

He had accused her of wilfully misunderstanding him, and perhaps she had to a degree, but she had still seen past his pride to the mortal man underneath.

Furthermore, his own implacable resentment, which he owned himself was a shade in his character, was nothing to Miss Bennet’s.

How could she have not forgiven Elizabeth yet?

Was Bingley not returned to her, all but crooning to her on bended knee for her favour?

And yet Miss Bennet remained unmoved. If he could not be considered ‘perfect’, then neither could she.

“As to that,” Darcy replied haltingly, “I find that I cannot agree with your estimation. From what I have observed today, I believe Miss Bennet still retains some resentment of her sister due to the…events of last autumn.”

Uncharacteristically, Bingley snorted a disdainful laugh, drawing Darcy’s sharp gaze to him.

The slight lift of his lip was derisive as he commented, “Is she not entitled? Given what Miss Elizabeth has done, her feelings are natural and just. Do you expect her to rejoice in her sister’s betrayal?

To congratulate herself for enduring a relation who very nearly destroyed her prospects?

I say Miss Elizabeth is fortunate that Miss Bennet deigns to acknowledge her at all! ”

This, Darcy decided, was more than enough.

He had barely sufficient wits about him to lower his voice, mindful of the public road upon which they trod, as he delivered his own speech in the most withering tone he possessed.

“It seems I must remind you that it is all due to Miss Elizabeth that you were reunited with her sister at all. Had she not engaged me to her cause, you very likely would have stayed away and married whatever society lady your sisters picked out for you. Miss Bingley certainly would not have revealed Miss Bennet’s presence in town, nor was I inclined to push you back in her direction prior to meeting Miss Elizabeth in Kent.

“I was moved by her unfounded guilt to intervene, though it chafed—and still chafes—my conscience to do so.

I would not have done had Miss Elizabeth not reasonably argued that we were both high-handed in how we dealt with the pair of you and that it must be up to you and Miss Bennet to determine whether you suit, without reference to the opinions of others.

It is this intention, and this alone, that prevents me from explaining to you my true thoughts of Miss Bennet and her superficial affections.

I have made myself clear on that point previously and leave you to decide your own future.

“Furthermore,” Darcy continued as Bingley gaped at him, “it was not Miss Elizabeth who decided to abandon Netherfield last November, it was you . She aired her concerns—as did I—and you made your choice on an improper understanding of them. Had you remained to discover the truth of Miss Bennet’s feelings and health for yourself, things might have turned out differently, but you left, and under your own volition.

That you ceded the field so easily speaks to your character, not Miss Elizabeth’s, nor even mine.

She has been far too gracious to the pair of you.

Had it been up to me alone, I would have left your romance on the rubbish heap where it belongs.

You ought to show the lady more respect and a great deal of gratitude going forwards.

If you do not, you shall have me to contend with. ”

Bingley’s mouth flapped inelegantly as he stammered out an apology.

It was directed at Darcy and not Elizabeth, which only served to increase his friend’s annoyance.

“F-Forgive me, I had not meant to offend you—” He swallowed at Darcy’s glare and added, “Or Miss Elizabeth. What can I do to make it right?”

“Speak to Miss Bennet and convince her to treat her sister more kindly. Or, should she prove incapable of kindness, at least with a measure of consideration. Elizabeth does not deserve her continued censure, and it is disgusting to witness.”

“I shall speak to her this evening when I return to dine,” Bingley promised, his head bobbing. “Might I ask…why are you suddenly Miss Elizabeth’s champion? I had not thought you liked her when you stayed at Netherfield.”

“If you must know,” replied Darcy, straightening in his saddle, “I have every intention of making Elizabeth my wife. Treat her ill at your own peril.”

Bingley’s eyes looked like they might pop out of his head, and his mouth gaped open, which was possibly why his response sounded as if he were tripping over his own tongue. “Y-you have made her an offer, then?”

“Not yet,” Darcy admitted in a grumbling tone, “but it matters not. Speak to Miss Bennet before I am required to do so in your stead. No one would be made happy by that result.”

Bingley, still staring at him with an expression of incredulity and puzzlement, again promised to reason with Miss Bennet on Elizabeth’s behalf, and they lapsed into a silence that persisted until they parted ways.

Darcy was quite glad to see the back of him; his opinion of Bingley was sinking by the day.