Goodly Creatures: A Pride and Prejudice Deviation (44 page)

That evening, Mr Bingley applied to Miss Bingley and Elizabeth for some music after dinner. His sister conspired to get Miss Eliza to perform first. Her ploy would allow her to observe her rival’s performance, and then choose more pleasing selections in order to outshine her in the eyes of Mr Darcy.

Elizabeth agreed to her request for very different reasons. She had begun to notice that the frequency of Mr Darcy’s eyes being fixed on her was increasing. At least three times during dinner, he looked in her direction with a fleeting smile and then realized his indiscretion and quickly changed his expression to a half-hearted glare of sorts. She wanted to do something which would give him a plausible reason to stare and discourage any suspicion of his attraction from Miss Bingley.

After perusing the paltry collection of music available, Elizabeth decided to play from memory. She chose her favourites; the music Jamie had given her from John Gay’s
The Beggar’s Opera.

She began by playing
Charming Billy
and then Greensleeves. Those assembled were lulled by the familiarity of the tunes and did not pay much attention to her or the altered words. Mr Darcy felt it safe to remain focused on her performance. He, unlike the others, realized she was singing Gay’s lyrics and despite the danger, began to pay close attention. She had a beautiful soprano voice that was light and pleasing and struck just the right note of sweetness in counterpoint to the sometimes irreverent words.

Her next selection was the familiar
Poor Robin’s Magot.
All had danced to this tune since childhood, and were not even aware there were words written to go with the music. Mr Darcy had seen
The Beggar’s Opera
performed several times, and knew what to expect. Still, he was more than a little uncomfortable with her brazen interpretation of what a man should do to have a young virgin, a widow with much experience and a mistress kept by a
‘fumbler of quality’.
As he watched with guilty pleasure the rising and falling of her bosom, he wondered whether Edmund had
‘tickled her fancy with sweets and dears.’
Had she capitulated, as in the song, when his cousin had
‘touched but her smicket?’
When she added some additional lyrics he had never heard before—about a man
‘seeing a lassie of fifteen years’—
he ceased to breath for a few beats when she sang:

‘If the heart of a man is depressed with cares, the mist is dispelled when a woman appears; like the notes of a fiddle, she sweetly, sweetly raises the spirits and charms our ears. Roses and lilies her cheeks disclose, but her ripe lips are more sweet than those. Press her, caress her, with blisses, her kisses dissolve us in pleasure, and soft repose.’

Those words evoked the memory of the first time ever he saw her. Forcing himself back to the present and their current precarious situation, he looked away.

Within seconds of turning his attention to the others, he realized they had not paid attention to any of the lyrics, and Miss Bingley’s disdainful expression reflected her belief that Miss Eliza was quite uncultured to play such out-dated songs. When Elizabeth was finished, Miss Bingley moved with alacrity to the pianoforte. Mrs Hurst sang with her sister. Their repertoire included several beautiful Italian love songs.

Mr Darcy attempted to pay attention to Bingley’s sisters, but his thoughts were still with the previous performer. The day had been a heady mix of pleasurable interaction. Both the creature that had appeared to him across a theatre with her childish body and spirit filled with joy, and this being so sensuous and womanly as she sang of dispelling the mist surrounding the heart of a man filled with care; had managed to capture his attention as no other woman ever had. He truly believed that, were it not for his first hand knowledge of her greed, and the similar nature of her connections, he would ask her to marry him immediately.

32 A FLIRTATION TO REMEMBER

The following afternoon while Jane was napping, Elizabeth returned to the Netherfield inhabitants. The previous day and night, she had enjoyed her repartee with Mr Darcy and was anxious for more. No nightmare had disturbed her sleep—instead she had dreamed of teasing Mr Darcy and had awakened to a misplaced need to make him laugh again. That Miss Bingley might be humbled by her success was also a possibility. It was obvious to Elizabeth that Mr Darcy had no interest in his hostess, but Mr Pope might have been thinking of her when he wrote—‘hope
springs eternal.’
Exposing what she was quite sure was Mr Darcy’s preference while enjoying a meaningless flirtation with him, could be enlightening for Miss Bingley.

The barely concealed displeasure of her hostess when she entered the room caused Elizabeth to think more prudently about her plans. She answered Mr Bingley’s solicitous questions about her sister’s well being and noted his enthusiasm with the news that she believed Jane was improved enough to join them after dinner. Sparring with a threatened Miss Bingley would not be the best thing for promoting an attachment between her host and Jane. She settled on a sofa and began to work on a needlework sampler she was making for Mary’s new home.

Mr Darcy noticed her arrival out of the corner of his eye, but decided he should not indulge in risky behaviour today. After retiring the previous evening, he had chastised himself for becoming too involved with her and provoking Caroline’s animosity. Still, it had not prevented his dreaming of dancing with her at the ball. That interlude had been quite vivid and immensely enjoyable.

After several minutes of silence, Miss Bingley was anxious to resume demeaning Miss Eliza in Mr Darcy’s eyes. She got up and walked about the room. Her figure was elegant, and she walked well; but Darcy, at whom it was all aimed, had gone back to reading his book. Her strategy was dangerous, but she determined that a side-by-side comparison would both get his attention and show her charms to advantage—her rival was short and had little grace. “Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude.”

Miss Bingley’s ploy succeeded in getting Mr Darcy’s notice. He looked up in the hopes he would be able to observe the object of his affection walk and decidedly closed his book.

Elizabeth declined and added that she had spent much of her day going up and down the stairs on errands for her sister’s comfort and preferred to spend the time working on a Christmas present for her sister Mary.

Mr Darcy returned to reading with a slightly crestfallen look.

Miss Bingley, however, was incapable of disappointing him in anything, and she acted very imprudently considering her mission, “Please explain why you would deny your hostess the pleasure of your company. Surely, it is more than a desire to be indolent. Your reputation as an excellent walker is well known to us.”

A shudder of fear ran through Elizabeth. Was Miss Bingley only referring to her walking to Netherfield? Had Mr Darcy told his close acquaintances of meeting her in London? She flashed a look filled with fury at him and determined to divert this conversation away from herself. “I have not the smallest objection of explaining my reasons. You either ask me to join you because you have secrets to discuss with me, or because you are conscious that your figure appears to the greatest advantage while walking. Now, if your motive is the first, I guard my privacy fervently, and I would completely thwart your intentions. If the second, Mr Darcy can admire you much better without my presence to distract him. I believe it is well known in the neighbourhood that he thinks me less than tolerable.”

“Oh! shocking!” cried Miss Bingley. “I never heard anything so wretched. How shall we punish him for such behaviour?”

“Nothing is so easy, if you have but the inclination,” said Elizabeth. “His speech at the assembly—in response to yours, I was told—left him open to easy retribution. Tease him… laugh at him. That is what I would do if I had the inclination. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done.”

“But upon my word, I do not. I do assure you that my intimacy has not yet taught me how to make fun of such a man as Mr Darcy. How does one tease calmness of temper and presence of mind? No, no, I feel he would defy me and provide me with no opportunity to find his weakness. And as to laughter, it would not do to laugh at such a man. Mr Darcy is the epitome of seriousness.”

“Mr Darcy is not to be laughed at!” cried Elizabeth. She had accomplished her goal of diverting attention from herself. Her anger lessened and she even began to anticipate his involvement in the current debate with some pleasure. However, her next remarks were pointed to remind him of their pact. “What an uncommon man. I have
never
met such a man before, and I hope I never will again. The ability to find humour in many things, including themselves, is high on my list when I choose my acquaintances. I dearly love to laugh.”

He spoke directly to her. “Miss Bingley has given me credit for more than can be. The wisest and the best of men, and their actions, may be rendered ridiculous by a person such as your beloved Moliere—or perhaps even your father—whose first object in life is mockery.”

Elizabeth was so caught up in enjoyment of his reply and failed to notice his slip. She felt compelled instead to prick his memory. “Certainly, there are such people, but I hope I never tease about what is wise or good. As you say, I do love Moliere… and my father. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, do divert us. I think perhaps, these characteristics are precisely what you are without and not a sense of humour.”

“Perhaps I too have at times been diverted by life’s irony. But it has always been my intention to avoid those weaknesses which often expose one to ridicule.”

The arrogant look on his face brought to mind his presenting the proposal to buy her baby, and her reply reflected her buried anger with that act. “Such as vanity and pride.”

Mr Darcy realized the conversation had suddenly taken a serious turn. Her examples were weaknesses of which she truly felt him guilty. He needed to answer her in such a way that he might win her over. “Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride… where there is a real superiority of mind… pride is not a fault. Pride should, however, always be kept under good regulation.”

He was unsuccessful, and Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile at his pompous reply.

Miss Bingley was annoyed that the conversation had become, once again, between Mr Darcy and Miss Eliza. However, she was pleased that her rival had decided to disparage the object of her pursuit and decided to push the issue. “You seem to enjoy examining Mr Darcy’s character. Pray what is the result?”

“Despite his forming a poor opinion of me without the benefit of an introduction, I have concluded he is a good man.”

Miss Bingley smiled coyly at the man she had set out to impress. “Yes, I agree. Mr Darcy is without defect.”

“No,” said Darcy, “I have faults enough, but not of understanding. I do have a temper, which I try to keep in check, but I believe I am too resentful, and cannot forget the vices of others as soon as I ought. My good opinion once lost is lost forever.”

Elizabeth’s voice was filled with barely controlled passion as she replied, “That is a failing indeed, and I must confess I am equally guilty! I am willing to forgive minor offenses, but in the case of major transgressions, implacable resentment has definitely manifested itself as a shade in my character. We have both chosen our fault well. My failing comes from life experience, and I really cannot laugh at it. I am certain you find nothing humorous about how you acquired the trait.”

Mr Darcy looked startled at her fervour and tried to pacify her with his words. “There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil—a natural defect.”

Elizabeth was not calmed, but she did smile sweetly as she said, “And your defect is a form of poorly regulated pride that causes you to forgive only those in your circle.”

“And yours,” he replied, with a similar smile, “is to wilfully misunderstand me.”

“Do let us have a little music,” cried Miss Bingley, tired of a conversation in which she had no share, but pleased with the animosity Miss Eliza had shown toward Darcy. “Louisa, you will not mind my waking Mr Hurst.”

Her sister made not the smallest objection, and the pianoforte was opened. Darcy, after a few moments, was not sorry for it. He began to feel the danger of having exposed too much of their previous relationship.

Elizabeth returned to her needlework and ignored her companions. Her mood was entirely different than it had been when she had come downstairs with the nonsensical idea that she could engage in some harmless flirting.

For the last five years, he had convinced himself that she was without morals, and despite her youth, a crass opportunist. This discussion had left him confused. The contrast between Miss Elizabeth and Miss Bingley was stark. She had become genuinely angry and seemed bent on pushing him away, while Caroline had oozed with obsequious fawning.