Darcy hated himself for the way that he seemed to be unable to either keep himself from half staring at their conversation, or to then properly say something to enter it. He was full of strong emotion, like he was not used to feeling in any way.
Bingley laughed. “I wager you’ll find no great success inmylibrary! I’ve barely enough books to gain the name.”
“I am astonished,” said Miss Bingley, “that my father should have left behind such a small collection of books. What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!”
And it had returned once more. Miss Bingley and her endless efforts to appeal to him by flattering that which was his. At least this was a distraction from his attention on Elizabeth.
“It has been the work of many generations,” Darcy replied without any feeling of enthusiasm for the subject, though ordinarily he loved to talk about Pemberley.
Elizabeth had perhaps given him the key to Miss Bingley’s character with that description of how dedicated she had been to her studies at their ladies seminary: She was a woman who desired to pass any exams the world presented to her.
No doubt she consideredhimin the nature of such an academic task.
First: Impress her school mistress and the tutors.
Second: Gain a reputation as an accomplished woman.
Third: Make a brilliant match. He would be a brilliant match, and thus she would make him match her whether he wanted her or not. Darcy had a resigned notion that she would continuously exert herself to catch him until he married another, and the matter became impossible.
Maybe heshouldmarry.
Darcy’s heart skipped several beats.
He glanced at Elizabeth, her tanned heart-shaped face was upturned and dimpling as she listened to Colonel Fitzwilliam bantering back at her. At this moment he desperately wished he had his cousin’s facility for charming and flirting with women. He did not even understand how the two of them had settled into speaking so easily when everything Darcy said to Elizabeth was awkward and frustrating.
But, Darcy consoled himself with a soothing thought. What he had was vastly better than Colonel Fitzwilliam’s easy manner and charm: Pemberley and the vast wealth of his estate.
He did not speak much further that night, but he spent the entire time quietly contemplating Elizabeth in a less frenzied, and a more calm state of mind than before.
Chapter Seven
Elizabeth confessed to herself as she arose the next day that shehadbeen disconcerted by the way that Mr. Darcy’s eyes lingered on her the previous night as she talked with Colonel Fitzwilliam, obviously for the purpose of keeping his attention away from Caroline — not with any noted success to be clear. The officer delighted in saying outrageous things, and he had a particular and determined delight in saying them to Caroline.
But Darcy had been dumb most of the previous night, even by his ordinary standards, only speaking when directly spoken to.
Elizabeth could not help but feel that he was displeased about something.
It was unfortunate, but all of Caroline’s efforts seemed to have as much effect on Mr. Darcy’s attitude towards her as they did on the wall or vases of flowers — rather less effect than Caroline would have had if she had talked directly to the window, because then at least condensation might have formed.
Darcy did not like Caroline.
That was what Elizabeth admitted to herself.
Watching them spend two nights together in a small domestic circle was enough to prove that to Elizabeth. And it made her feel very… sad.
Of course he was in no way worthy of her friend, even with his excellent appearance and wealth. He was a cold man, and he had no interest in the honest affections of a woman who adored him. Caroline ought to think no more of him, and consider herself lucky. As for her part, Elizabeth was glad that he probably disapproved of her.
But rather than continuing to abuse Darcy in her thoughts, as she knew she ought to as Caroline’s friend, this question caught Elizabeth’s mind and stuck like honey and jam: Just what did Mr. Darcy think of her?
He was quiet. He did not flirt. He looked at her with that serious studying eye that she would assume was disapproving in anyone else. But Mr. Darcy was such an odd, quiet man. He certainly paid far more attention to her when they were in the room together than he did to Caroline.
She had no compelling reason to think that he disliked her, but if he liked her, why did he not flirt with her? Most gentlemen knew well enough to flirt with the women they liked. Of course she did notwantMr. Darcy to like her — that would be simply awful as Caroline loved him.
Simply awful…
Yes, it definitely was a good thing that he definitely and definitively disliked her, and that those intent stares could not signify anything more than absence of mind and a studied desire to mark out her every defect.
Elizabeth certainly preferred to believe that.
