Page 9 of The Best Of Relations

Once his daughter had left the room, he turned to a rather red-faced Mr Bingley. “I well remember how it is to be young and in love, sir, and a kiss upon the occasion of an engagement is quite the accepted thing these days, I believe, but there will be no more of that until after the two of you have said your vows, hmm?”

“Yes, sir,” said a rather chastened Mr Bingley, regretting that he had barely had a moment to snatch that long-desired kiss. “Would you be amenable to a wedding at Christmas-time, then?” He brightened. “We’d just have time to get the banns called…”

“I think if you call at Longbourn tomorrow, this would be a conversation you and Jane should have with Mrs Bennet,” Mr Bennet said, hastily retreating. Imaginings of interminable talk of lace and wedding breakfasts floated through his head, and he said “I have no objections to a wedding sooner rather than later, if Jane agrees.”

Jane was, at that moment, floating into the withdrawing-room on a cloud of pure happiness. Dreamily, she smiled at herself in the mirror, making absolutely no effort to straighten her ruffled curls.

Elizabeth entered the room a few minutes later, a little disarranged herself after a rather energetic dance, and saw Jane. Arriving beside her, she observed her sister’s blissful countenance and disturbed appearance, and took it on herself to lightly tweak Jane’s curls back into place.

“You look very happy, dearest,” she said softly.

“Oh, Lizzy. If only everyone could be as happy as I! I do not deserve such happiness!”

“No one deserves it more than you, darling Jane,” Elizabeth smiled gladly on her sister. “Mr Bingley proposed?” she kept her voice very low, so that others would not overhear.

“It is to be announced at supper,” Jane whispered back, “he has Papa’s permission.”

Such joy was then Elizabeth’s, that she kissed Jane’s cheek, and assured her, though in low tones, that there could be no one who could wish the couple greater felicity. Seeing then the eyes of other ladies turned to them in curiosity, Elizabeth threaded her arm through her sister’s and led her back to the ball-room. No sooner had they entered but they were accosted by Mr Collins who, mopping his face with an increasingly limp and sodden handkerchief, was about to request of Elizabeth that she honour him with the next dance, having had to surrender the first to her aunt, than Jane held out an imperious hand.

“I am not engaged for this dance, Cousin. I am sure you did not mean to overlook my precedence, as the elder sister?” Nothing, not even a dance with Mr Collins, could blight Jane’s happiness that night, and she determined then and there that their idiot cousin would not impose himself on Elizabeth. Catching Mr Bingley’s eye as he entered the room and approached her, she glanced meaningfully at Elizabeth, took Mr Collins’ hand and walked towards the forming line of couples.

“Are you engaged for this dance, Miss Elizabeth?” Bingley arrived at her side mere moments before Darcy, who had been trying to get to her through the crush since the moment he saw her walk back into the room. “If not, will you do me the honour?”

“Gladly, Mr Bingley!” Elizabeth accepted his hand, and was startled when Mr Darcy said;

“And if you might reserve the next set for me, Miss Elizabeth, I should be most grateful.”

“Er, yes, certainly, Mr Darcy,” was all the response she could think of to make, and was rewarded by the sight of him making her a rather low bow as Bingley led her away. She stared back at him, perplexed, and found that he did not take his eyes from her. But she was soon distracted by Mr Bingley, who had guessed from her smiling countenance that Jane had shared their news, and who was eager to receive her congratulations and welcome to the family, though they had to speak very quietly to avoid word being broadcast across the company rather sooner than they wished.

At the conclusion of the set, Mr Collins rushed to attempt again to engage Elizabeth, but this time she was able to inform him that she was already spoken for in the next set, and when Mr Darcy came to claim her, Mr Collins could do nothing but bow and scrape, and praise Mr Darcy for his excellent condescension in singling out Mr Collins’ own intended choice.

“Intended choice?” Mr Darcy said as soon as they were away from Mr Collins, “are you engaged, then, to Mr Collins?”

“Never!” cried Elizabeth, with passion, “it is all in his own head! I cannot approve of cousins marrying anyway, sir, I have been raised on a farm.” She gave him a meaningful look, and added, “I cannot but think that it must not be wise in humans either.”

“You are very wise, Miss Elizabeth, and your thoughts coincide perfectly with my own. It is precisely why I have resisted my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Her attempts to engage me to her daughter Anne I consider to be ill-advised for the very reason you have just espoused.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth said, startled. “I had thought it was quite a settled thing, Mr Collins spoke of it…”

“It is my aunt’s desire, and no doubt she has spoken of it to her clergyman,” Darcy said grimly, “but mistake me not, both my cousin Anne and myself are determined that it shall not come to pass. Lady Catherine speaks of it as having been my late mother’s dearest wish, but my mother never spoke of it to me, and I was quite old enough when she passed for her to have done so.”

The dance was set to begin then, and interrupted their conversation; they did not speak again for some few minutes, until Elizabeth gave Darcy an arch look. “We must have some conversation, Mr Darcy. Perhaps we shall speak about the dance, or about how well Netherfield looks tonight, though Miss Bingley decried it, claiming it is nothing to your Pemberley.”

“Miss Elizabeth,” he said seriously, “I have fallen silent because I have been debating how best to begin.”

“Begin at the beginning, sir, ‘tis a very good place to start,” she said with an impish smile.

“You are correct; very well, I shall do so. At the very beginning of our acquaintance, before we were even introduced, I insulted you most egregiously and I sincerely wish to apologise.”

Only the long hours of practice in dancing with her sisters kept Elizabeth’s feet moving by rote: she looked up into Mr Darcy’s eyes and, recovering her composure, said teasingly; “Why, sir, I did not remark it. One man’s tolerable is another man’s handsome, is that which a third may say should wear a sack over her head so that she should not frighten children!”

“Allow me to state then this man’s honest opinion: any man who thought you other than uncommonly handsome would need to be examined for eye-glasses.”

Unaccountably pleased by the compliment, Elizabeth forgot that she thought Mr Darcy so proud and favoured him with the first true smile she had offered him yet. He stared, and she, seeing him stare, coloured and looked away. For several moments longer, they continued the dance in silence. Then Mr Darcy marshalled himself and spoke again.

“My cousin has taken me to task over my poor manners,” he said then, “and you are only the first of a number of people to whom I must make amends. To tell the truth, I came to this neighbourhood to get away from a problem which has been much on my mind of late, and it has adversely affected my temper. I am afraid I have been even more silent and withdrawn than is my usual wont. I have not Mr Bingley’s happy knack of recommending myself to strangers anyway, I fear.”

Elizabeth could not but smile, and where once she might have asked why not, now she suspected that the tall, handsome man before her might in fact be rather shy. “Your pretty compliment a few moments ago erased your original offence in my eyes, sir, and the words you have just spoken have redeemed your character entirely. I forgive you unreservedly, Mr Darcy, and if I may do anything to help you make friends in this neighbourhood, I hope that you will ask me. I have lived here all my life, and know my neighbours’ every little quirk. Perhaps if I mention them to you before you must speak, you will find yourself smiling involuntarily. A genuine smile oftentimes suffices where pretty words may fall on deaf ears.”