Page 14 of Idle Gossip

They approached Longbourn only to find Charlotte coming from the opposite direction.

“Eliza! Mr. Darcy. So, what your mother reports is true, then.” Charlotte looked ridiculously pleased. “Did you enjoy your walk? Mrs. Bennet was vexed at your disappearance. She spoke of it most vociferously to my mother.”

“It was most refreshing. The air is so much clearer after a stroll.” Elizabeth hoped Mr. Darcy understood the double meaning.

Charlotte looked very much like the cat who got the cream.

Four days later, Mr. Bingley arrived with Mr. Darcy to call upon their ladies. Elizabeth had spent the time since their walk mulling over everything she had learned. Her emotions were fraught, and she had worked to separate the anger and resentment from everything else, identifying the source of each sentiment and working to resolve it.

I cannot know him so well yet, she reasoned. Mr. Darcy might make a good impression now, only to display the same arrogance later. She would be cautious, but give him the time he needed to prove himself.

Mr. Bingley brought with him the idea of hosting a ball in honor of his engagement to Jane. His excitement spread in a trice, and soon a date was agreed upon: November the twenty-sixth.

Mrs. Bennet’s enthusiasm could not be mistaken. Her exclamations were loud and profuse.

“What an honor for you, dear Jane. Of course, it is a celebration of Mr. Bingley as well. Oh, I shall go distracted! Mrs. Bingley, how well that sounds!”

Lydia and Kitty expressed their anticipation for a night full of dancing.

“You will invite the officers, of course,” Lydia pressed.

“Indeed, Miss Lydia, for there would be a shortage of eligible gentlemen with whom the ladies may partner otherwise.” Mr. Bingley smiled agreeably as Kitty then asked him what was to be served at dinner that night.

Elizabeth glanced at Mr. Darcy and noted the discomfort on his face. It was a strange expression, one she would have called disdainful but a week earlier. He fiddled with the sleeves of his coat and drifted further from the ladies milling about Mr. Bingley and Jane.

Elizabeth went to his side and placed a hand on his arm. “My family can be…exuberant,” she hedged.

“I am not used to such a cacophony,” he admitted. “Georgiana is many years my junior. Our house was very quiet growing up.”

“I cannot imagine it,” Elizabeth teased. “Having brothers and sisters is preferable to me. One always has a playmate or someone to torment.”

He chuckled, as she had intended. “That is why my father encouraged my friendship with Wickham. I have a cousin with whom I am close but he is some years older than me. We were not in company nearly as often as I would wish.”

Elizabeth was glad she would never meet this Mr. Wickham. Despite her protestations of her current situation, she did not like seeing the pain flickering in Mr. Darcy’s eyes. His friend had hurt him greatly.

How can anyone behave so despicably? Though she had possessed ill feelings toward some people in the past, never had she worked to injured them as Mr. Wickham had wounded Mr. Darcy.

“You have made a tactical error, Mr. Bingley, by giving my wife an excess of time to prepare. Now there shall be nothing but talk of lace, gowns, and dancing slippers. Perhaps I ought to withdraw my blessing.” Mr. Bennet had arrived during Elizabeth’s conversation with Mr. Darcy and now stood in the doorway, a sardonic expression on his face.

“Do not be ridiculous, Mr. Bennet. Withdraw your blessing, indeed. Besides, Jane is of age. You cannot stop the marriage now!” Mrs. Bennet grinned triumphantly and rang for tea.

“When is your birthday?” Mr. Darcy asked as Elizabeth delivered a cup to him some minutes later.

“I am one-and-twenty at the end of May,” she replied. “Why?”

“Your mother’s professions that Miss Bennet does not need your father’s permission to wed caused me to wonder.”

“Do you mean to abscond with me, Mr. Darcy? An elopement will not help our present circumstances.”

“Your condemnation of me continues! No, I merely wished to know so I might observe it.”

Mr. Darcy’s comments proved he did not see their courtship as a farce as Elizabeth did. His sentiments were stronger than hers, and his good opinion of longer duration.

“When is your day of birth, sir?” she asked, because reciprocation felt appropriate.

“I will not be nine-and-twenty until next September.”

“Belated well wishes, then.” He was eight years older than her! It was not a great gap—certainly there had been much larger ones, but she had always pictured herself marrying someone closer to her in age.