“You are not half so trite! I hope Miss Bingley has not frightened you.”
“I am only inspired to prove her quite wrong,” Jane said with a smile. She recalled how Elizabeth had advised her to adopt some of her sister’s prickliness, and Jane had to admit to herself that she rather liked the notion. She rallied her courage and tried again to converse with the viscount.
“What do you say to Mr. Willoughby’s notion of skating and sleigh rides, sir? I shall be in London another fortnight, and I mean to make the most of my time amongst amusing companions.”
“My daughters and I would be delighted to accompany you all on your wintry excursions,” the viscount said. “But have you only a fortnight remaining of your visit? Surely Mrs. Jennings could not bear to part with you so soon!”
Mr. Willoughby glanced toward where Lucy Steele crept back into the parlor, leaving the door ajar behind herself. “I daresay poor Mrs. Jennings will be vexed enough that her seating arrangement has been meddled with – let us dare not speak of anything as unpleasant as parting with her charming guests! But Mrs. Gardiner, you must come and keep watch for me while I sneak into the dining room and undo whatever mischief has been done.”
Mrs. Gardiner flashed Jane a quick wink before she allowed Mr. Willoughby to lead her away. Jane was finally left alone with the viscount, and she searched for something to say to him before they were again obliged to speak to the other guests.
After a moment of silence, Viscount Bellamy gestured to the book Jane still held. “Do you intend to read, Miss Bennet? I know my conversation is not especially enthralling.”
“Mr. Willoughby has given – er, loaned me several volumes of poetry. I have chiefly been a reader of novels,but I find I quite enjoy the works of Cowper, Coleridge, and Wordsworth. I have just finished James Thomson’sThe Seasons,which I thoroughly enjoyed. His observations on winter struck me in particular.‘For then is the time, for those whom wisdom and whom nature charm, to steal themselves from the degenerate crowd, and soar above this scene of little things, to…’– oh dear, I cannot recall… – ‘to lay their passions in a gentle calm.’Is that not beautiful?”
“It is very lovely from your lips, Miss Bennet, though the verse suggests you tire of London society. I hope you do not consider the present crowd asdegenerate. But I confess, I know little of poetry.”
“Perhaps, compared to a home of so many sisters, I find that my time in London has brought thegentle calmMr. Thomson wrote of. But I am a novice to poetry myself.”
He examined the volume in her hand and let out a low whistle. “This is Lord Byron – hardly material for beginners, as I understand.”
Jane took a few steps toward the escritoire in the corner and set the book aside, concealing it between the other volumes Mr. Willoughby had given her, so that she might later retrieve the letter for Marianne.
Jane attempted to engage the viscount on other subjects, inquiring after his pastimes and pleasures, but found little to interest her in what occupied him. After a few minutes of tepid conversation, Jane observed Mr. Willoughby return to the parlor; he gave her a cheerful grin before joining his mother and sister.
A loud peal of laughter caught her attention, and she turned her head to see Lucy Steele fawning over Edward Ferrars and his relations, while Miss Bingley hovered at her side giving haughty encouragement. Mr. Darcy stood near them,scowling more severely than Jane had ever seen him do. Miss Bingley perceived Jane watching them and broke away from her companions to approach Jane; when Jane turned to the viscount, she found that he had been engaged by Mr. Palmer in a discussion of politics.
Miss Bingley smiled at Jane’s apparent abandonment as she linked their arms together. “What a marvel, your popularity in London, Jane. I do hope you mean to make the most of it, in finding a suitable match. But you must allow me to advise you, for I am intimately acquainted with the viscount and his family. Though he was a parson for far longer than he has been the heir to an earldom, he must cease to think of his future alliance in the same terms as his first marriage; a great deal shall be expected of whomever he marries, for she will someday be a countess.”
Jane forced a smile, searching her own imagination for the words Elizabeth might give voice to in the face of such insolence. “I suppose I shall already be obliged to acquaint myself more intimately with the running of Longbourn, now that I am to inherit. No doubt the viscount must also consider the running of a large household.”
“As well as rank and station, given the circles he moves in – quite different from Meryton, Jane. But with the prospect of your inheritance, you shall not find yourself wanting forappropriatesuitors. Mr. Palmer has brought his younger brother this evening, and second sons are always prone to admire young ladies of fortune and property. Mr. Robert Ferrars’s circumstances are much the same, and I daresay he is as agreeable as his brother.”
“Certainly – just as agreeable,” Jane said flatly.
Caroline smiled viciously. “Indeed, even the elder brother would be an excellent conquest for you, Jane.Of courseI wish to help our dear friend Lucy, to be sure, but given his mother’sexpectations of him, one would hardly be surprised if he chose you.”
“I cannot decide if you are against ladies poaching one another’s beaux, or in favor of the practice,” Jane said sweetly. Miss Bingley began to stammer, but Jane withdrew her arm and stalked away. It felt rather good to be just a little wicked.
***
Elizabeth was standing near enough to Mr. Darcy and his companions that she could hear Caroline Bingley singing Miss Steele’s praises to Edward Ferrars, while in the same breath implying that Jane was deficient in every way that Miss Steele was superior. She watched Edward Ferrars, who shifted uncomfortably and then looked to Mr. Darcy for some manner of assistance.
Mr. Darcy frowned and then offered Miss Bingley his arm. He led her away, speaking in hushed tones that Elizabeth could barely make out. “You ought to be kinder to Miss Bennet. She is of longer standing acquaintance with you; as welcoming as she was to you in Hertfordshire, I should think you might be intimate friends. You need not disparage her in order to recommend other ladies, particularly not in the very home where she is a valued guest.”
The rest of his words were lost as he moved away from Elizabeth, but she had heard enough for ire to surge in her chest. The man who claimed to disdain meddling ought not encourage Miss Bingley’s overtures of friendship, when Elizabeth and her sister would do better to refrain from any association with the pernicious witch. If Mr. Darcy wished to be of assistance, he would do better to advise Miss Bingley never to speak to anyone called Bennet again!
Seething in silent indignation, Elizabeth strode across the room and began to attack the pianoforte with her furious playing. Eventually her temper cooled and her performance became more natural, and Elizabeth managed, for a short while, to think of nothing more than the music.
She faltered just a little when Mr. Darcy positioned himself to observe her, his gaze as severe and inscrutable as it had often been at Netherfield. She was slow in selecting the next piece of music, allowing him the opportunity to approach and speak with her, but he remained rooted in place at the periphery of her vision.
After she began her second song, Miss Bingley came to stand beside Mr. Darcy. “I daresay one often prefers conversation to music at such a time – after dinner, a talented young lady is oftenaskedto perform. But I suppose those who have little opportunity to display themselves cannot wait until they are wanted.”
Elizabeth heard Mr. Darcy suck in a sharp breath, but she was determined not to play any wrong notes as she strained to listen to his reply. His voice was cold as he said, “I wanted Miss Elizabeth to perform; but I enjoy her playing as much as her conversation. Indeed, after my sister, I consider her the most talented woman of my acquaintance.”
Miss Bingley stormed off in a huff, calling out to the viscount, and Elizabeth sensed Mr. Darcy moving closer. Her fingers betrayed her, running over all the wrong keys until she withdrew her hands from the instrument. She spun on the piano stool and looked up at Mr. Darcy, who now stood at her side. He was not quite smiling, but his expression was more propitious now.
Elizabeth arched an eyebrow but otherwise mirrored his restraint. “So youhavelearned somewhat of my mischief, sir?”
