“Oh, no! Think of it as a gift – I daresay you enjoyed yourself very well.”
“You cannot have known I would topple my wine – I surprised even myself,” Marianne said, her stomach twisting at the recollection of what awkwardness had followed the spill.
“I certainly never imagined that your wickedness would trump my own – but it is a great relief that I am not entirely beyond being surprised from time to time. But, no, I thought only that it might divert you to observe Miss Lucas’s desperation, which I cleverly anticipated. And since I must be at the other end of the table, I knew I could trust you to relay to me the most diverting bits of her fawning. Do tell me.”
Marianne laughed as she repeated the most amusing absurdities she had heard Miss Lucas utter in her effort to court Mr. Bingley’s favor, and though it gave Lady Rebecca great pleasure to hear, Marianne began to feel guilty for laughing at what had made Mr. Bingley so uncomfortable.
“And what did you and Charles talk of after I escorted Miss Lucas upstairs? I suppose you informed him that he deserved no better, after how he treated your cousin.”
“Quite the reverse,” Marianne said, keeping her voice flat and bland.
But Lady Rebecca was not fooled by Marianne’s dissembling. She gave an affected gasp and began to fan herself. “Did you enjoy conversing with him, Marianne? But I know it is impossible!”
“I pity him,” Marianne said. “I know what it is to feel uncomfortable in one’s own home, and to endure certain unpleasant relations. He told me of his sisters, who remind me of my half-brother and his ghastly wife. And unlike some persons present, I am sensible enough to admit when I have been wrong. Mr. Bingley at least wishes to correct his deficiencies, which is more than I can say of any other man I know.”
Lady Rebecca gave her a genuine smile. “I am happy to hear you say that. Oh, I find it amusing to tease poor Charles, but I do wish him every success in regaining the esteem of his neighbors and improving himself as he improves the estate. Even if it is his own fault – for he might be married and happily settled if he were not dominated by his sisters’ whims – but I can see how difficult it is for anybody with a truly good nature to stand up to those harpies.”
“I hope I have a good nature, but I should never hesitate to speak my mind to such wicked creatures,” Marianne said emphatically,
Lady Rebecca raised an eyebrow and studied Marianne with a queer expression. “Indeed? Well, you are feisty tonight! Is there any particular reason why?”
Marianne shifted nervously in her chair. She had drawn Lady Rebecca away from the others for the express purpose of confiding in her, but at this ideal opportunity to broach the subject, she felt terribly uneasy. She reached into her pocket, her fingers curling around the unopened letter.
“Just before we came here, Elinor and I received a letter from Jane and Lizzy. Jane wrote that she had seen Mr. Willoughby in London, and she was persuaded to pass along a letter from him to me.”
“And is that not good news?”
“I hardly know,” Marianne sighed. “A fortnight ago, I am sure I would have been delighted and read it at once. But we were already dressing for dinner, and I did not wish to burden Elinor, if the contents of the letter proved distressing.”
“What could Mr. Willoughby have to say that would distress you?”
“A great deal, I should imagine. He has seduced and abandoned Miss Williams, and betrothed himself to some horridheiress – there is nothing he can say that could ever ease the pain he has inflicted upon me.”
Marianne withdrew the letter from her pocket and turned it over in her hands, afraid that it may contain worse than what she had already heard of the man she once loved. “I have been foolish in bestowing my regard so freely. I am determined to be wiser and more discerning. Indeed, I ought to be more like Elinor, who is resolved to overcome her own heartache, while I have only wallowed in my own. Or better still, perhaps I ought to be like Lizzy – she has not had her heart broken at all, for she speaks her mind to gentlemen, and is not afraid to tell them when they are utterly wrong.”
Lady Rebecca bubbled with laughter. “I hope I shall someday have the pleasure of congratulating her for giving my cousin Darcy the business! But what wouldshedo, if she received such a letter?”
Marianne turned the offending missive over again and again, regarding it with rising panic. It may perhaps contain some denial of his misdeeds, or perhaps an explanation that would put all to rights. But Marianne would not allow herself the pathetic indulgence of such hopes. She stood and with a sweep of her arm, she cast the unopened letter into the fire.
“Brava,” Lady Rebecca cried, clapping her hands. “A bold choice; I entirely approve.”
Marianne watched the letter burn and did not for an instant regret destroying it, for it was impossible that she could ever forgive Willoughby. She was all defiance, for she would not allow him to cause her any further distress.
A short while later, Lady Rebecca entreated Marianne to play the pianoforte, for she found the idea of Miss Lucas aspiring to master such an accomplishment far too easy to ridicule. At her friend’s behest, Marianne began playing a complex and beautifulconcerto, though she knew it was rather too mournful for such a party.
Marianne was not yet finished with her performance when the gentleman joined the ladies. She looked up, able to play from memory, and her eyes landed on Mr. Bingley, who was the last to enter. He lingered in the doorway, leaning against the wall, his gaze fixed on her with a look of surprise.
Her fingers fumbled over the notes, but she recovered smoothly, and Mr. Bingley continued to watch her with a piercing gaze. Marianne looked away and entreated Mary to join her at the instrument. With a sly glance back at Mr. Bingley, she called out to Miss Lucas. “Do join us; I have been assisting Mary in her constant endeavor to be a better performer. If you really wish to distinguish yourself, beginning directly is certainly commendable.”
Miss Lucas demurred, for she was conversing with a few of the officers, but Mary happily joined Marianne at the pianoforte just as Mrs. Bennet loudly demanded music that the young people could dance to.
Mr. Bingley echoed these effusions and moved across the room to the pianoforte, where he commended Mary’s abilities and encouraged her to play something jolly. She made a hasty selection and set the music before her, then looked over at Marianne. “I am sure I can manage without anybody to turn the pages.”
Marianne gasped at her cousin’s treachery, for Mr. Bingley smiled warmly as he offered Marianne his hand. She accepted it, and was rather amused that Miss Lucas had taken notice of their camaraderie as they began the steps of a reel.
Kitty and Miss Maria were swiftly partnered with a pair of officers, and the colonel entreated Elinor to join the dancing as well. Miss Lucas was obliged to move nearer to LieutenantSanderson and stare expectantly at him before he finally asked her to stand up with him. Marianne shared a mischievous look with Mr. Bingley; she supposed she could permit herself to dance with the man who had wronged her cousin, if only to punish Miss Lucas for her impertinent flirtation.
The parlor was not quite large enough for so many couples, and so their dancing was an informal and sometimes improvised shambles, but Marianne allowed herself to enjoy it, and she was finally able to fulfill her promise of making merry. This was just what she and Elinor had hoped might come of their stay in Meryton, when London lost its luster, and she made free in savoring the sensation of such perfect contentment.
