Page 4 of Diversions With Darcy & Elizabeth

“Upon reflection, Mr. Darcy may have complimented me for the sole purpose of teasing Miss Bingley. What better way could there be to provoke her?”

“Lizzy, that explanation sounds far-fetched. I think you may have to accept the fact that you are no longer merely ‘tolerable’ in Mr. Darcy’s view.”

A chuckle joggled my upper body. “My dearest sister, I appreciate your unwavering support. His true opinion does not matter, since I have no need for his approval. While it is no wonder an amiable soul like Mr. Bingley can tolerate the arrogant and churlish man as a friend, I pity the lady who will become Mrs. Darcy. What could be worse than a husband who is bearish at a ball?” When a soft rumble stirred my belly, I rose to my feet, beckoning to Jane. “Come, I am hungry. Let us proceed to the breakfast-parlour.”

Thursday, 14 November

Netherfield Park

Elizabeth

“You must not remain upstairs the entire evening as you did yesterday.” Jane stirred in the bed, shifting her head towards me. “Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst may be offended if you continue to avoid them.”

“On the contrary, I fancy they have celebrated my absence.”

“Pray do this for me, Lizzy.”

I masked a sigh and summoned a veil of cheeriness. “Very well. For your sake, I shall inflict my presence upon them tonight.”

She rewarded me with a weak smile.

Two days ago, Mama had encouraged Jane to ride our mare to Netherfield despite the dark clouds that promised a coming storm. After she had been caught in the downpour, Jane fell ill with a severe fever. I repaired here yesterday and found my sister in a miserable state: she suffered from an aching head and chills that alternated with fever.

Although I should never have admitted this, I sought to avoid Mr. Darcy more than anyone else. Based upon his dour aspect yesterday morning—an image which intruded upon me at odd moments—he had joined Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst in their unspoken yet conspicuous condemnation of my appearance. Without doubt, I had not looked my best; the wind had blown several locks of my hair free from their pins, and mud had stained my stockings. But my concern had been for Jane and not in presenting myself in the most advantageous light. Mr. Hurst had appeared indifferent to my arrival. Only Mr. Bingley had provided a genuine, hospitable welcome.

This morning, Mama, Kitty, and Lydia had come to see Jane. I spent a harrowing hour with them and the others in the drawing-room. Due to her youth, Lydia might be excused for her impertinent demand that Mr. Bingley host a ball for the neighbourhood. But Mama’s unguarded speech mortified me even more: she disparaged Charlotte’s appearance, admonished me for expressing my opinion, and chided Mr. Darcy for an innocuous remark, compelling me to intervene on his behalf.

The spectre of Mr. Darcy’s approbation, or lack thereof, absorbed me to an unreasonable degree, and I spent an exorbitant amount of time attempting to solve the enigma he represented. Why did he stare at me so often? Did he disapprove of me, or did he favour me too much? Either way, I could not be easy in his company.

1. Romani word for "mother"

Part 2: New Impressions

Netherfield Park

Elizabeth

At dinner, Miss Bingley paid me an inadvertent service: she seated me as far from Mr. Darcy as reason permitted, eliminating any possibility that I might be obliged to converse with him. My position conferred a secondary benefit—Mr. Hurst’s considerable bulk blocked my view of the taller gentleman. I grinned at the happy circumstance and tucked into the vegetable soup with a fair amount of zest.

As the meal progressed, Miss Bingley’s officious fussing over Mr. Darcy became a source of amusement: Did he approve of the soup? Did he desire to have the meat cooked longer? Would he prefer a slice of chicken breast over a leg? He had no more than five-minute intervals of respite from her concerned attention.

Mr. Hurst spoke to me but once to remark upon the ragout left uneaten on my plate; the stew suffered from an excess of salt. With no desire to criticise the cook, I instead declared a preference for plain dishes. He sniffed at my response and thereafter overlooked me. The claret, though, had a superior taste, and perhaps due to my anticipation of having to share company with Mr. Darcy after the meal, I drank more than my usual one or two glasses.

Upon leaving the dining-parlour, I withdrew to Jane’s chamber and found her in a peaceful sleep. Thus, I took my basket of needlework and joined the others in the drawing-room. At Mr. Bingley’s inquiry, I assured him of my sister’s restful state. Miss Bingley suggested a game of loo, but Mr. Darcy indicated he would abstain and complete a missive to his sister. I too declined, citing my intention to sew.

Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley commenced to play piquet. Mrs. Hurst held a position behind her husband to observe the game.

Although I attended to my stitching, I did not miss Mr. Darcy’s recurrent looks in my direction. Miss Bingley persisted in bothering him while he attempted to write. She begged him to add messages from her to the “delightful young lady” and asked if he needed more light, a better pen, or more paper. Mr. Darcy’s curt replies did not appear to daunt her.

At length, Miss Bingley sauntered throughout the room. Like a moth to a flame, though, she returned to Mr. Darcy and peered at his writing. “Such admirable penmanship! Miss Darcy shall be pleased to receive such a delightful letter.”

“My correspondence to my sister tends to be long, but I should never declare them to be delightful.”

“Nay, I disagree.” Mr. Bingley perked in his chair and placed his cards on the table. “You make it a rule to do everything in the best possible way, and your letters are no exception. You are diligent to embellish your writing with archaic or uncommon words”—mirth brightened his delivery, and his lips curled in a wry style—“preferably those of at least four syllables.”

I resisted the urge to smirk at his raillery.

Miss Bingley, though, shook her head, frowning at her brother. “You are merely jealous, Charles, because Mr. Darcy has a far superior command over the English language.”