“Caroline knows what she is about, and so does Bingley, and he approves,” the man replied. “Come, let us find the punch table, and see if there is a card room.”
Though worry didn’t leave her features, the woman nodded.
Deeming Mr. Darcy and the younger woman, Miss Caroline Bingley, Elizabeth deduced, the more interesting pair, she turned her attention in the direction they’d gone, tracking their progress about the room. She could no longer hear them, nor even attempt to read their lips in profile, but by the startled, indignant looks that blossomed in their wake, Mr. Darcy did not curb his tongue nor hide his feelings. Feelings that so far appeared to spread only dislike.
“Girls, smile,” Mrs. Bennet hissed.
Elizabeth turned to find her mother heeding her own advice.
“Mr. Bingley is coming this way,” Mrs. Bennet continued through a smile that hardly moved as she spoke. “Jane, pinch your cheeks.”
“Why do I not need to pinch my cheeks, Mama?” Lydia asked, her words loud enough that Mr. Bingley’s eyes widened slightly where he approached them in the company of Sir William.
Sir William either had not heard or could no longer be disturbed by Lydia’s antics, for his pleased grin didn’t waver as he stopped before them to bow. “Mrs. Bennet, may I introduce Mr. Bingley, the gentleman who has leased Netherfield Park?”
Mrs. Bennet curtsied. “Oh, Mr. Bingley, it is so lovely to meet you at last. I was devastated that you could not come to dine with us yesterday eve. I had such a lovely dinner planned. No fewer than two partridges, I assure you.”
His expression affable, Mr. Bingley bowed. “Mrs. Bennet. It pained me to decline your generous invitation, but I was away in London fetching my sisters, my brother by marriage, and, ah, Mr. Darcy.” Mr. Bingley’s cheer faltered.
Elizabeth kept her visage smooth as she pondered Mr. Bingley’s hesitation, his slight grimace. Did Mr. Bingley not care for Mr. Darcy? Her gaze strayed to where that gentleman still walked with Miss Bingley. Was Mr. Darcy so wealthy that Mr. Bingley would endure him for the sake of his sister’s hope of a match?
“…and Elizabeth, my second eldest,” Mrs. Bennet was saying.
Elizabeth pulled her wandering thoughts back just in time to curtsy to Mr. Bingley.
“…Mary, my third, Kitty, my fourth, and Lydia, my fifth,” Mrs. Bennet concluded.
Mr. Bingley rocked back slightly. “My, what a great number of lovely daughters you have, Mrs. Bennet.”
“Does she not?” Sir William’s sweeping gesture encompassed them. “And each more charming than the last. The Bennet sisters are one of the delights of our community, sir.”
If they were each more charming than the last, that meant some of them must not be that charming at all, Elizabeth mused. Furthermore, that meant Sir William placed one of them last. She longed to tease him regarding which, but held her tongue. Her mother did not appreciate such remarks.
“Yes, and you must dance with them all,” Mrs. Bennet declared. “Beginning with Jane, of course, as she is by far the loveliest.”
“Mama,” Jane murmured, looking down, her cheeks glowing pink.
Mr. Bingley again appeared startled, but he turned a cheery look on Jane. “I would be honored for a set, Miss Bennet.”
“I believe a set is about to begin.” Mrs. Bennet caught Jane by the shoulders as she spoke, giving her a shove in Mr. Bingley’s direction.
Mortification filled Elizabeth now too, brought out by her mother’s lack of subtlety.
“Is it?” Mr. Bingley looked about, startled. “I have promised this set to Miss Lucas. May I have the next set, Miss Bennet?”
Jane, who had conquered her blush, nodded. “That would be most pleasant.”
Mr. Bingley bowed. “Until then.”
“If you will excuse me?” Sir William asked, then turned to follow Mr. Bingley back to where Charlotte Lucas, Elizabeth’s dear friend and Sir William’s eldest, stood with Lady Lucas.
“If your father had done his duty, you would be dancing with Mr. Bingley now, not Charlotte,” Mrs. Bennet muttered, her words aimed at Jane.
“It is only one set, Mama,” Elizabeth protested. “It is not as if Mr. Bingley will marry the first woman he dances with, or he would already be wed.”
Mrs. Bennet swung her glare to Elizabeth. “And you, Miss Lizzy, will not dance with him after Jane. I will secure that set for Lydia. If Mr. Bingley does not choose Jane, he will certainly choose her.”
Behind their mother, Lydia smirked at Elizabeth.
