“As am I,” Miss Lucas said, offering Mr. Bingley a coquettish smile. “But I suppose we understand one another very well – to have every expectation of felicity disappointed – but there is little merit in lamenting such a loss, when one might best recover through good company and cheerful companions.”
Marianne pressed her lips together to conceal a smirk. That Miss Lucas should aspire to be Mr. Bingley’s consolation – she hardly knew whether to be dismayed, or to declare that they perfectly deserved one another.
Mr. Bingley looked down at his plate, and then at Marianne. “I hope that my greatest comfort might be in devoting my time to estate matters, learning and improving as best I can. I believe you must understand me, Miss Marianne; I have heard that in times of difficulty, you have applied yourself to playing the pianoforte.”
Marianne felt her eyes widen in indignation, that he should compare the tragic loss of her father to his own ineptitude in wooing Jane. But she had no need to bite back any scathing reply, for Miss Lucas was most determined to steer their conversation.
“Perhaps I ought to take up such a refined occupation. I have never been one to desire the sort of attention that musical talent attracts, but perhaps there would be some gratification in giving others pleasure with my performance. I recall your sisters being wonderfully talented, sir. Does Lady Rebecca play or sing?”
“She does, though only on her own whims,” Mr. Bingley said, attempting some semblance of levity. “I cannot say if she would oblige anybody but herself with her abilities.”
“But Lady Rebeccahasexpressed a great curiosity to know you better, Miss Lucas,” Marianne happily supplied. “She was vastly disappointed that she was not present when last I saw you, on the square in Meryton.”
Miss Lucas took Marianne’s meaning and stiffened her posture, while Mr. Bingley only slumped a little. His discomfort was enough for Marianne to think it may be a great lark to encourage Miss Lucas’s conspicuous efforts to recommend herself. “If grief alone does not inspire you to play as many melancholy tunes as your companions will allow, Miss Lucas, then surely your eagerness to perform must be sufficient motivation.”
“You mean that a desire to please others is nobler than mere self-indulgence,” Miss Lucas quipped with a grin. “Mamma has always told me that if only I applied myself to the instrument, I should soon become a great proficient. Of course, with so many talented neighbors always willing to display their accomplishments, my own abilities have never been wanted.”
Marianne held Miss Lucas’s cold stare, unable to decide whether she wished to tear the woman to strips or aid her mercenary efforts to captivate Mr. Bingley. “Perhaps when you become a great proficient, you will be everybody’s first choice when music is wanted, even if none of the local ladies are inclined to play duets with you.”
Miss Lucas ignored this. “The new year is the perfect time to think of such things, is it not, Mr. Bingley? I mean to devote myself to music as you mean to do with estate matters. With spring coming, the notion of new beginnings must hold such promise.”
As Miss Lucas continued her fawning, Marianne was content to abandon Mr. Bingley to this onslaught of flattery – she supposed she was doing him a great kindness, since nobody else in the neighborhood thought half as well of him. Instead Marianne again looked down to the other end of the table.
There were eight people on either side of the table between Marianne and the far end where their hostess sat. Marianne could not make out any of the conversation, but it was evident that Lady Rebecca was encouraging a lively discussion between Elinor and the colonel, whose animation matched that of his sister.
The sight of Elinor laughing with Colonel Fitzwilliam and Lady Rebecca brought a smile to Marianne’s face, and then a pang to her heart. Elinor was honoring her promise to put aside her woes and enjoy the evening; Marianne had not put half so much effort into being civil to Mr. Bingley, for baiting Miss Lucas was hardly a kindness to their host.
And then Lady Rebecca looked around and caught Marianne’s eye. With a wicked smirk, she flicked her gaze to Miss Lucas and shifted her posture to mimic the simpering lady across from Marianne. Lady Rebecca thrust out her bosom and batted her eyelashes, preening and fanning herself. Marianne laughed softly at her friend’s imitation, then shook her head as she wondered if Lady Rebecca had intended for Mr. Bingley to be the recipient of such desperation. She mouthed the wordwhyand Lady Rebecca gave her a devilish grin.
As Lady Rebecca continued her silent impishness, Elinor and the colonel finally noticed her pantomime. Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed, making a droll face at Marianne as he turned to observe Miss Lucas. Beside him, Elinor frowned, her gaze urging Marianne to be kind.
When Marianne looked over at Mr. Bingley, she was sorry for his discomfort. His smile was strained and his posture made it evident he wished himself elsewhere, though Miss Lucas carried on as if she had every encouragement.
“Have you any intention of giving another ball, sir? I recall you are a splendid dancer,” Miss Lucas said, briefly resting her hand on Mr. Bingley’s arm before withdrawing and giving a blushing smile.
A footman refilled Marianne’s wine, obliging her to shift closer to Mr. Bingley, and he turned to her with a look that was almost pleading for a turn of conversation. “I am grateful for any advice you ladies may wish to bestow upon me, for how I might occupy myself in improving Netherfield. Miss Marianne, what might your cousin Miss Bennet suggest?”
“I do not think Miss Bennet is satisfied by anything in Meryton, since she has discovered her own good fortune and chosen to keep herself in London,” Miss Lucas said in a silky voice. “But there are still some in the neighborhood who share your eagerness to please and be pleased, sir.”
The despondency in Mr. Bingley’s countenance began to affect Marianne most perversely. She recognized such dejection, she knew what it was to bear such disappointment in the face of thoughtless acquaintances who cared only for their own amusement. To her horror, she began to pity the man. And then her hand moved of its own volition, reaching for her full cup of wine, and toppling it across the table.
It was the impulse of an instant; she had not a moment to prepare herself for Miss Lucas’s shrill screech as the red liquid doused her pale blue gown, and then every set of eyes in the room was on them. “I hardly know what happened,” Marianne blurted out, slowly recoiling and hiding her hands under the table.
“An unfortunate accident,” Mr. Bingley said. “Are you well, Miss Marianne? You look a little dizzy. And Miss Lucas – oh dear.”
“I am sure Miss Marianne is well enough – it is I who am drenched – my new frock is ruined!” Miss Lucas pushed back her chair and stood, desperately dabbing at herself with a napkin. Sir William stood and hurried around the table to assist her with his own napkin, and his daughter shrank back with mortification.
Marianne began to panic and repent her hasty action as the rest of their party continued to look on in astonishment. She looked to Lady Rebecca for a forgiving face; her friend seemed to struggle in concealing her mirth. Drawing in a deep breath, Lady Rebecca stood and moved toward Miss Lucas. “Let me take you upstairs, and we can sort you out. I shall give you something to wear, and perhaps something for your nerves.”
Sir William Lucas resumed his seat, assuring the officers sitting nearby that his dear girl must look very well in whatever Lady Rebecca intended to lend her. The rest of their companions returned to their conversations, and Marianne screwed up her face with a sigh of relief as she relaxed against the back of her chair.
Mr. Bingley gave a little cough, drawing her gaze. He bowed his head and leaned closer as he whispered to her. “I ought to thank you, Miss Marianne, for saving me, but I can see that you take little pleasure in it. I know you could not really be so cruel.”
Marianne fidgeted with her hands in her lap. “I think I have been cruel – to you – and I ought to be sorry for it. I think perhaps I am.”
“I should be content with such meager contrition,” Mr. Bingley replied with a self-deprecating chuckle. He shook hishead and smiled sadly. “I have done little to deserve your good opinion, and my desire to earn it can hardly atone for whatever has passed between me and your cousin. Perhaps I presume too much in thinking you meant to spare me… whatever that was. I find Miss Lucas’s manners very altered from what they were in the autumn; I think she was flirting with me, and I did not like it at all.”
Marianne gave a breathy laugh and nodded. “Yes, it was certainly… something.” She pursed her lips and brought a hand up to conceal her amusement. “I could not bear the mortification I felt on her behalf, behaving in such a way. Evenyoudo not deserve enduring such awkwardness. And after her family’s behavior towards the Bennets, she is lucky I did not dump a bucket of slop over her head!”
