Please say yes.
Darcy really would prefer if Miss Bingley would cease bothering him, so he could finish his letter to his sister in peace.
As Elizabeth considered the offer, Colonel Fitzwilliam said to Caroline, “Come now! No more excuse that you cannot play cards because five is such an awkward number.”
“No, no,” Elizabeth said laughing. “I shall not join. I’d much prefer to read a book.”
“You prefer reading to cards,” Mr. Hurst said. “Singular.”
Elizabeth laughed, while Miss Bingley stood up from the little stool that she’d brought to Darcy’s side. “Elizabeth is a very great reader. I’d say she takes little pleasure in anything else, but she can, sometimes, manage to even enjoy a game of cards.”
“I suppose I have no choice but to play to prove my breadth of talents.” Grinning at them all, Elizabeth sat near Colonel Fitzwilliam. “And promise, all, that you shan’t believe what Caroline says: I amnota great reader, and I have pleasure in many things.”
“Do not believeher,” Miss Bingley replied. “She may take pleasure in many things, and there are few people better capable of finding joy in any situation than my dear friend, but she iswithout doubta great reader. It is merely that she compares herself to Mr. Bennet which makes her deny her greatness.”
“Papaisa great reader,” Elizabeth replied. “I am merely a tolerable reader.”
“Every evening at school she sat next to us while we played at cards and gossip, a novel or work of science in hand.”
“Do not let Caroline fool you into believing I was a diligent student!” Elizabeth said, taking up the hand of cards that Mr. Hurst handed out. “It was quite rare that I read anything which Mrs. Castle thought had any value — Caroline was the diligent student. She tired herself to perfect her drawing, her comportment, her music, French and Italian.Ichiefly focused on diversion.”
Darcy smiled at Elizabeth.
There was something wholly charming in this refusal of the praise, and the attempt to put it upon her friend. He had seen Miss Bingley’s habits, and Miss Bingley was by far too assiduous in her pursuit of that which would impress those around her to impress Darcy.
With a very becoming flush, Elizabeth looked down and muttered again, “I assure you, Caroline was the best of us. She is — no, no, Caroline. You shouldn’t join. I think five is the perfect number for a game of loo. More and it becomes awkward.”
Miss Bingley had sat back down next to Darcy, having avoided the card game once more. She looked at him, probably hoping to see if Elizabeth’s praise of her had some positive effect on his opinion of her.
It did not.
Elizabeth was charming and natural, Miss Bingley was not.
Colonel Fitzwilliam loudly clapped his hand against his thigh. “Miss Elizabeth,youhave convinced me! There is no use, nor point in speaking further withyouthis evening while such a paragon of good breeding, good achievements, and decorous comportment sits nearby as Miss Caroline Bingley. Miss Bingley, do you not findmea paragon of deportment as well?”
Darcy frowned at that. Whatever did he mean by disparaging Elizabeth?
But rather than appearing displeased, Elizabeth’s eyes brightened and she smiled warmly at Colonel Fitzwilliam. A green creature squeezed Darcy’s chest.
The reply of Miss Bingley to this praise was an annoyed and curt, “No.”
“Hurt, cut to the quick,” Colonel Fitzwilliam replied. He flipped over his cards and sighed dramatically. “Missed the trick also. I’ve been loo’ed. Misery. You and the cards. I’m dashed to the marrow, shot through — like a fellow I know. Bullet landed right in his heart, plugged the wound, and he was fine for an hour, but when the surgeon poked his finger in the bloody hole—”
“Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Miss Bingley angrily replied, “might you reserve your grotesque war tales for when the gentlemen are by themselves?”
“Simple soldier, madam. Apologies, simple soldier.”
Elizabeth declared, “And as a simple soldier you have overcrossed the lines of convention too far, and must be punished.”
With a grin, Colonel Fitzwilliam sat straighter, and he flicked a finger in a mock salute. “Punished? I am in terror. And what shall my fate be? What unpleasant task must I accomplish for you?”
“Ah,” Elizabeth smiled back at him — that green snake squeezing in Darcy’s chest grew tighter. “You shall choose the next book for me to read. And what is more, I shall curse you to read to me aloud from it — soon as the next round of loo is complete. It must be a good book, proper for the company.”
“Oh, no! Madam, such horror.” Colonel Fitzwilliam laughingly placed the back of his hand against his forehead. “Choose a kinder fate for the poor sufferer — but alas. I see you are without mercy, and—”
“Wholly without.”
“—I have no choice but to perform this low quest.”
