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Jack smiled right back, skin flushed through, and for just a moment the two men gazed at one another showing everyone in the room a brief glimpse into what was developing between them.
“A deep, intricate character is no more or no less estimable than one such as yours,” Elliot said after a moment, as it was clear Mrs. Bennet was about to speak.
Bingley laughed. “There is much to be said for intricacy of character!”
Elliot could not help a look at Mr. Darcy then, for who else in this room had such a depth of character as to be almost inscrutable!
“But much to be said about the simplest of ones also,” Elliot replied.
“Elliot,” cried Mrs. Bennet. “Remember where you are, and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home.”
“I did not know before,” Bingley said, keen to show there was no offence in the conversation, “that you were both so perceptive on the matter of character. It must be an amusing study.”
“The country,” Mr. Darcy said, “can in general supply but few subjects for such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and unvarying society.”
“But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them forever,” Elliot said.
“Yes, indeed,” cried Mrs. Bennet, clearly offended by Mr. Darcy’s manner of mentioning a country neighbourhood. “I assure you there is quite as much of that going on in the country as in town.”
Everybody was surprised by her words and Mr. Darcy, after looking at her for a moment, turned silently away. Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had gained a complete victory over him, continued her triumph.
“I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country, for my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal pleasanter, is not it, Mr. Bingley?”
“When I am in the country,” he replied, “I never wish to leave it, and when I am in town, it is pretty much the same. They have each their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either.”
“That is because you have the right disposition. But that gentleman,” she looked across at Mr. Darcy, “seemed to think the country was nothing at all.”
Elliot was mortified, there was no other word for it. He could practically feel the Bingley sisters smirking. “Indeed, mama, you are mistaken,” he said quickly. “You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there was not such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in town, which you must acknowledge to be true.”
“Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were, but as to not meeting with many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four-and-twenty families.”
Elliot was sure that nothing but concern for Jack could enable Bingley to keep his countenance. His sister was less delicate and directed her eye towards Mr. Darcy with a very expressive smile. She then leaned forwards to offer Mrs. Bennet more tea, therefore extending a stay that Elliot was about to curtail.
Elliot, for the sake of saying something that might turn her mother’s thoughts, now asked her if Charlie Lucas had been at Longbourn recently. Across from him Louis suppressed a laugh.
“Yes, he called yesterday with his father,” Mrs. Bennet said. “What an agreeable man Sir William is, Mr. Bingley, is not he? So much the man of fashion! So genteel and so easy! He has always something to say to everybody.” She shot Mr. Darcy a quick look. “That is my idea of good breeding and those persons who fancy themselves very important and never open their mouths quite mistake the matter.”
Elliot actually felt his skin flush, and a horrible heat spread across it. He wished dearly that his mama had not accepted the second cup of tea. He looked across at Jack who was equally as flushed, though in fairness his heightened colour might well have been due to illness. Marc was conversing quietly over the pianoforte with Mrs. Eleanor. Christian and Louis on the other hand were enjoying the show, smiling widely and helping themselves to more cake.
“Did Charlie dine with you?” Elliot asked slightly desperately.
“No, he stayed only briefly once he realised you were not at home.” She sighed. “Charlie is such a good boy. It is a pity he is not more handsome! Not that I think Charlie so very plain, but then he is our particular friend.”
“I wonder that you never considered a match between your families,” Miss Bingley said, encouraging Mrs. Bennet on.
“Especially as Charlie is such a pleasant young man,” said Bingley.
“He would not be for Jack,” Mrs. Bennet said, laughing as if the idea was ludicrous, though Elliot had thought in the past that it would be quite a sensible option given Sir William’s standing and Charlie being a beta himself. But no, beta or not, fortune or not, Mrs. Bennet would never allow a match with someone so very plain for her beloved son and soon said as much.
“Mr. Lucas himself has often said so, and envied me Jack’s beauty,” she said.
“Mama, that is quite enough?—”
Jack’s murmured words was ignored. “I do not like to boast of my own child, but to be sure, one does not often see anybody better looking. It is what everybody says. I do not trust my own partiality. When he was only fifteen there was an alpha of considerable fortune so much in love with him that we were sure he would make an offer. But, however, he did not. Perhaps he thought Jack too young, which he was, of course! However, he wrote some verses and very pretty they were.”
“And so ended his affection,” said Elliot standing up quickly, feeling hotter than he could ever remember being. “There have been many, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!”
“I thought poetry was the food of love,” said Mr. Darcy softly. Elliot could not recall him sounding that way before. Was that sympathy in his tone? The very prospect made Elliot wish for the floor to swallow him up like a monster from a gothic novel.
