Bingley understood. “Yes, Caroline has been a trial. I do not think she anticipated sharing you upon her arrival.”
“Sharing me? Your sister has no claim on my person nor on my affections.” Darcy shook his head. “I have tried to be a gentleman, but she tries my patience.”
“Then you had best show her she has no claim. Come, I know you were not attending during introductions. Let me introduce you to my partner’s sister.” Bingley pointed at the lady seated a little away.
“She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me. Go, enjoy your lady’s smiles and leave me in peace.”
The words left him as if he had no control over his tongue. Darcy saw the moment they were heard.
The young lady stiffened and then rose, gliding away without a backward glance. Regret followed soon after.
“That was badly done, Darcy. I had not thought you capable of such behavior.” Bingley shook his head. “I shall leave you alone. I can tell there is nothing that can be said to convince you to be amiable.”
Darcy knew he needed to find the lady and apologize. He sought her out, but each time he drew close, she moved away. Once. Twice. And then a third time. She eluded him with every approach.
Frustration took hold. The evening continued and he was unable to properly apologize to the young lady he had insulted. By its end, one thought had settled with unwelcome clarity—
He had been wrong. And he could not easily set it right.
The return from the assembly was quieter than the journey there.
The air within the carriage still held remnants of the evening—light strains of music lingering in memory, the press of voices, and the warmth of crowded rooms gradually yielding to the cool stillness of night. For some time, no one spoke. Jane sat beside Elizabeth, her hands in her lap and her expression serene in a manner suggesting contentment rather than fatigue. Mary appeared thoughtful, her attention turned inward. Mrs. Bennet seemed satisfied, though disinclined to immediate commentary. Mr. Bennet, for his part, seemed content to observe in silence.
Elizabeth kept her gaze fixed upon the darkness beyond the window.
She had derived little pleasure from the evening.
The realization, though simple, carried a weight she had not anticipated. The evening had begun well enough. There had been music, conversation, and the expectation of something new. Bingley had proven utterly agreeable—attentive, cheerful, and wholly without reserve. Jane had been engaged for nearly every set, and no one could have failed to observe the pleasure she inspired and received.
Mary had acquitted herself respectably. Even the company at large, though far from remarkable, had been thoroughly tolerable.
Elizabeth’s own experience had taken a different course.
She had danced once, and without any particular distinction. The scarcity of gentlemen had been felt throughout the evening, leaving many ladies seated more often than they might have wished. That circumstance alone would have caused her little concern.
It was the other matter.
The words, spoken carelessly, had never been intended for her ears. Their effect, however, was undiminished.
She had not attempted to overhear them.
She had heard them all the same.
There had been no hesitation in the delivery, no attempt to ease the remark. It had been given as though it were a simple truth, unworthy of further consideration.
Tolerable.
The word returned now, unwelcome and persistent.
She shifted slightly, drawing her shawl more closely about her shoulders.
Jane glanced toward her, her expression attentive, but said nothing.
Elizabeth was grateful for it.
By the time they reached Longbourn, the house was dark, the servants already prepared for their return. Lamps were brought;cloaks removed; the transition from public to private space completed with practiced ease.
They entered the parlor.
