Page 6 of The Heroic Mr Darcy’s Bad Manners
The Longbourn ladies soon waited upon the ladies at Netherfield. Elizabeth was fortunate that the gentlemen were out shooting when they called. The visit was returned in due form, and it was obvious that Jane’s pleasing manners had earned the goodwill of Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley; however, it was equally clear that they found Mrs Bennet intolerable and the other sisters not worth speaking to. Jane received their attention with pleasure, but Elizabeth saw superciliousness in how they treated everybody and could not like them. She would have gladly avoided the acquaintance if it had not been so obvious that Mr Bingley admired Jane and that her sister was on her way to reciprocating his feelings.
The Bennets were invited to Lucas Lodge for a dinner party, and to Elizabeth’s consternation and Jane’s delight, the Netherfield party was present.
Elizabeth noticed she was becoming an object of interest to Mr Darcy and was conscious at all times of the whereabouts of the gentleman. Whenever he walked in her direction, she moved the opposite way, which happened quite frequently in the course of the evening.
Suspicion arose that he was intentionally following her as they engaged in a game of cat and mouse. She was winning until Charlotte requested she entertain the guests at the pianoforte, which would not allow her to escape should he move her way.
“You are a strange friend who always wants me to sing and perform before all and sundry. My vanity does not move in that direction, and I would rather not perform before those who are accustomed to the very best.”
“You cannot continue to avoid Mr Darcy. If you allowed him to become acquainted with you, you might change his misguided opinion.”
“Thank you, but no. I am as acquainted with that gentleman as I ever wish to be.”
“I see… Would you at least sing one song? Then I promise not to request anything more from you for the rest of the evening. You have a particularly lovely voice that never fails to captivate me, and it would not be amiss to display your best talent before the Netherfield party.”
Elizabeth humoured her friend, though her fingering was sorely lacking the practice necessary to be deemed proficient. What worried Elizabeth was whether a certain gentleman might offer to turn the pages if he was indeed following her. If that was the case, she had a ready solution.
“Mary? You read music so well, would you mind turning the pages for me?”
“Certainly.” Mary preened at the praise, and the sisters assumed their seats at the pianoforte.
Elizabeth looked at the sheets of music and barely avoided Mr Darcy’s piercing glare. He was nowhere near the instrument, but unfortunately that only gave him a better view. She quashed a shudder and wished that the ever-present Miss Bingley would occupy him for the duration of her song. It was however vital that she found a piece she could play reasonably well so as not to suffer any further mortification.
She espied Rose on the Heath, after the poem Heidenrosling by Goethe, and thought it quite fitting. Perhaps she should seek to revenge herself, as the rose did in the song.
“A good choice. It fits your voice,” Mary commented.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth replied and began singing.
“ Once a boy a rosebud spied,
Heathrose fair and tender.
All array’d in youthful pride—
quickly to the spot he hied,
ravished by her splendour.
Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,
Rosebud fair and tender.
Said the boy, ‘I’ll now pick thee,
Heathrose fair and tender.’
Said the rosebud, ‘I’ll prick thee,
So that thou’lt remember me.
Ne’er will I surrender.’
Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,
Rosebud fair and tender.
Now the cruel boy must pick
Heathrose fair and tender.
Rosebud did her best to prick.
Vain ’twas ’gainst her fate to kick—
she must needs surrender.
Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,
Rosebud fair and tender.” [2]
The assembled guests were uncommonly quiet, and Elizabeth immediately regretted allowing herself to be persuaded. She glanced at Mary, who was blinking rapidly.
“I am quite overcome. I have never heard you sing with so much feeling,” Mary whispered as the applause began in earnest.
Elizabeth was lauded by her neighbours, who came forwards and formed a protective ring around her. She was sheltered from the certain disapproving glare of Mr Darcy, but Miss Bingley entered their midst.
“I shall happily provide you with the address of my master, if you wish to improve your fingering.”
She slid onto the pianoforte stool, forcing Mary to yield, and played Dussek’s Sonatina with perfect fingering.
After Miss Bingley’s performance, Lydia begged Sir William for dancing, and the knight was by nature friendly and obliging. Furniture was moved out of the way, and Mary finally had her turn to exhibit at the pianoforte. Elizabeth circled the room and watched her sisters enjoy themselves. Lydia’s lively dancing of the reel must take the blame for her inattentiveness because when Sir William called out to her, she immediately obliged him.
The hair rose on her neck when she discovered that Sir William was engaged in conversation with Mr Darcy, or rather a monologue, judging by the latter gentleman’s tightly closed lips. She dipped into a curtsey and turned abruptly to make her escape.
“My dear Miss Eliza!”
Elizabeth disregarded Sir William’s pleas and found refuge out of doors. She rushed down the steps from the terrace and hid behind some shrubs. Once she had regained her breath she acknowledged the childishness of her behaviour. One must hope that the gentleman soon tired of their neighbourhood and returned to town. He certainly did not appear to enjoy either balls or dinner engagements. It would be in everyone’s interest if he left, she agreed with herself.
The hinges on the terrace door squeaked. Elizabeth startled, held her breath, and hoped that it was Charlotte and not Sir William. She could not excuse or explain her rude behaviour to the kind but loquacious man.
“I can guess the subject of your reveries.”
It was Miss Bingley’s grating voice, and the reply would reveal her company.
“I should imagine not.”
The mellow tones of Mr Darcy made Elizabeth quiver involuntarily.
“You are amazed and bedazzled by Miss Eliza Bennet’s enchanting voice and incomparable beauty.”
“You deem her a beauty?” Mr Darcy’s incredulity laced his tone. “I would as soon call her mother a wit!”
Elizabeth sank to her knees whilst Miss Bingley giggled.
“You are so droll, Mr Darcy. If we were not in company, I would have laughed aloud. You simply must tell me what you said to her at the assembly that offended her so grievously. Miss Eliza is avoiding you as if you were the devil himself.”
“I assure you that it has nothing to do with me. We have never been so much as introduced. I do not know why she is behaving so strangely, and I am of no mind to discover it.”
Mr Darcy’s voice rose with each syllable. He sounded terribly angry, which baffled Elizabeth. If anyone had reason to be vexed it was she—not the swaggering oaf.
“I am only jesting. I have no interest in Meryton’s hoydens. Imagine how insupportable it would be spending many evenings in this manner of society. I was never more annoyed. The insipidity, the noise, yet they are all so self-important. What I would give to hear your strictures on them.”
“Your conjectures are all wrong,” Mr Darcy decried petulantly, and the hinges squeaked again.
Elizabeth heard a feminine huff before the hinges cried for the last time that evening. She walked round the house and re-entered through the front door. Charlotte was waiting for her in the anteroom with her shawl in her hands.
“Shall I inform your family that you have a headache?” she enquired dully.
“Yes please,” Elizabeth agreed, regarding her friend quizzically.
“I owe you an apology,” Charlotte offered.
“Whatever for?” Elizabeth asked.
“For forcing you to sing when you were not inclined to perform.”
Elizabeth pulled Charlotte in for a fierce hug.
“My current indisposition has nothing to do with my song. I am pleased to have induced Mary to tears. I shall tell you all about it when you visit on the morrow. At the moment, I am in dire need of headache powder and my bed.”
Charlotte returned the hug and smiled wanly.
“I hope you recover soon.”
“I am certain I shall.” Elizabeth smiled and left.