Page 27 of The Servants’ Matchmaking

McKeever went out, unhurried as ever. Darcy tried the letter again. Above him, Lydia exclaimed over the prospect of officers in Meryton at a volume that suggested she wished the officers to hear her from there. Mrs. Bennet responded at greater volume still. Bingley laughed. Elizabeth did not.

At the end of half an hour, Mrs. Nicholls appeared upstairs at Bingley's request and enforced his household limit with a housekeeper's flat refusal to be argued with. The visitors descended to the drawing room. Jane remained above with Sarah and a tray of broth.

Mrs. Bennet settled herself beside Bingley like a hen upon a favoured egg. "You see how delicate Jane is, Mr. Bingley. She has always been too sweet for this world. Such beauty often carries a tender constitution, you know."

"Mamma," Elizabeth said.

"What? I am praising your sister."

"Her constitution will recover perfectly well without a public description of it."

Lydia had found the pianoforte. She played the opening bars of a country dance with tremendous vigour and no continuation at all. She abandoned it the moment the difficult part arrived.

Caroline entered on the tail end of the noise. "How lively."

Mrs. Bennet drew Lydia forward by the shoulder. "Lydia is thought to have excellent taste in music."

"By whom?" Darcy asked, before judgement could intervene and stop him.

Elizabeth looked at him sharply. Then, against every expectation he might have formed of her, she laughed. A real laugh, quick and startled out of her.

Mrs. Bennet did not hear the question at all. Lydia did.

"By everyone in Meryton, Mr. Darcy. I dance rather better than I play, but there are no officers here to prove it."

"That is fortunate for the carpet."

Kitty laughed outright. Lydia, undeterred, began another tune.

Mrs. Bennet turned back to Bingley. "You must give a ball when Jane is recovered. She dances beautifully, though I daresay you know that already."

"I should be very glad to give one," Bingley said, with the particular warmth he reserved for anything touching Jane. "As soon as Miss Bennet is well enough to attend."

"There, Lizzy. Did you hear that?"

"The county heard it."

Darcy saw the colour rise along Elizabeth's neck. She stood with perfect composure, one hand resting on the back of a chair. But her thumb moved, small and unconscious, rubbing the worn edge of the wood over and over. Her embarrassment was not a rejection of her family. It was the cost of loving them out loud, in front of company, where every word could be turned over and examined. She would defend every one of them against the world and still wish, just this once, that the floor might open beneath her mother's chair.

He had once called that family an objection, and never once considered who was left to pay for it.

Caroline crossed to the pianoforte with the air of a woman restoring order. "A ball will require a guest list, Charles. We cannot invite every officer and tradesman's nephew in Meryton."

Mrs. Bennet drew a breath that promised a considerable reply.

Darcy moved first. "Bingley knows his neighbours. He requires no instruction from either of us."

"I meant only to assist."

"Then wait until he asks."

Bingley looked grateful. Mrs. Bennet looked triumphant. Elizabeth looked, for a moment, uncertain — as though she could not quite tell what to make of him. Darcy had defended fairness, and in doing so had made the room a little more difficult for her. It was possible, he was learning, to be entirely right and still be unhelpful. The lesson sat uncomfortably.

"Mrs. Bennet," he said, "the west windows give an excellent view of the gardens. Miss Elizabeth tells me you know every notable walk in the neighbourhood. I should value your opinion of Bingley's grounds."

Elizabeth's brows rose. She had told him no such thing, not in those words, and they both knew it. Her mother turned at once, entirely won.

"Oh, Netherfield is very fine. Longbourn has prettier views in summer, but the prospect here is grander, I will grant you that. Lizzy walks everywhere, you know, even when she really ought to take the carriage."