“Poor Mr. Bingley,” Elizabeth said, turning a page. “I imagine his sisters will develop sudden ailments to excuse themselves from the table.”
Jane looked up from her embroidery. “I think Mr. Bingley is kind enough to bear such conversations. He has a patience you might do well to emulate, Lizzy.”
“Patience is an excellent virtue, Jane, but I see little use for it when the reward is utter tedium.”
Charlotte leaned back, her smile turning sly. “What of Mr. Darcy? Do you find him equally tedious?”
Elizabeth arched a brow. “Tedious would be an improvement. At least tedium istolerable.”
Jane sighed. “Elizabeth, you ought not to speak so harshly. He may be proud, but there is no harm in giving him the benefit of the doubt.”
Elizabeth shut her book with a decisive thud. “After he insulted me in plain hearing? I shall be sure to extend such generosity the next time a gentleman compares me to a cow.”
Charlotte laughed. “He did not compare you to a cow, Lizzy.”
“No, but ‘tolerable and not handsome enough to tempt him’ is hardly a compliment.”
Charlotte shook her head. “You are fixated on him.”
Elizabeth stiffened. “I am not.”
“You are,” Charlotte said. “You cannot help yourself. He has insulted you, and now you cannot rest until you have bested him. You would not have agreed to the wager otherwise.”
“I agreed because you made it impossible for me to do otherwise, and you know it. ‘Twas not a fair dare.”
“Still,” Charlotte said, “you cannot deny he has been on your mind. And the next time you should be in company with him—”
“I shall take great pleasure in avoiding him entirely.” Elizabeth picked up her needlework again. “Or perhaps I shall seek him out, just to prove how little I care.”
Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “You seem very invested for someone who cares so little.”
Elizabeth stabbed her needle into the fabric with more force than necessary. “The wager was your idea, Charlotte. I am only indulging your whim. The moment it ceases to amuse me, it will be forgot.”
“Of course,” Charlotte said, though her smile suggested otherwise.
Jane sighed. “This may be in poor taste. You ought not to treat another’s affections—or your own—as a game.”
Elizabeth hesitated. “There are no affections to treat. Mr. Darcy is as impervious as a stone wall, and I... I find the ideaof his affections laughable. If hehasa heart, I am certain it is locked away in some cold and inaccessible chamber, far beyond the reach of ordinary mortals.”
“You may laugh now, Elizabeth, but I have every confidence that the gentleman will surprise you. After all, every man has feelings, no matter how shallow they may be.”
Jane frowned, her needle paused mid-stitch. “I doubt Mr. Darcy is such a man. I may know little of the gentleman, but his eyes spoke rather too much for me to consider him a man of only shallow sentiments.”
“He is no deeper than a mud puddle,” Elizabeth said firmly. “Mr. Darcy will return to London entirely unscathed by any weapons I might be able to wield, I am certain of it.”
“But heisstill a man,“ Charlotte said with a shrug. “And men do experience desire, even if their heart is not lightly touched.”
Elizabeth stiffened. “I shall not demean myself to become a strumpet like Lydia just to… to give Mr. Darcy a little ‘manly thrill’. I would appeal to… perhaps his intellect, I suppose. I assume he has one.”
“Oh, good plan, Lizzy,” Charlotte grinned, winking at Jane. “You should have no difficulty winning the wager in that case. You cannot possibly do him any harm, for his ‘feelings’ will die off as easily as they are inspired.”
Elizabeth said nothing, though her needle paused mid-stitch. She had agreed to the wager in jest, her pride stung by Mr. Darcy’s insult. Yet now, when she considered the prospect of facing him again, she found herself less certain of her ability to remain unaffected.
”Ishallwin,“ Elizabeth said at last. “And I shall enjoy the satisfaction of proving him no better than the pompous fool he appears to be.”
Charlotte grinned. “Then you must come to tea at my mother’s on Thursday. I expect the Netherfield party will be there.”
Elizabeth turned, her pulse quickening at the thought. She forced a smile. “Then I shall. I cannot think of anything more delightful than facing Mr. Darcy in full command of my wit.”
