Page 15 of Such Low Connections

Jane laughed a little at this and shook her head.

“You must go out on one of your walks and shake these fantasies out of your mind, Lizzy. I have heard Miss Bingley talk of Mr Darcy often, and I believe she has no more than a civil and natural attachment to her brother’s close friend. It does all of them credit, and I see nothing particular beyond that.”

“I wager you sixpence that she aims to marry him,” Elizabeth countered mischievously, not to be shaken on this particular conviction, “and another sixpence that she will fail. Unfortunately for Miss Bingley, Mr Darcy’s esteem is all for Mr Darcy, as far as I have seen. I do not think he has room in his head or heart for Mrs Darcy.”

“There would be no harm in Miss Bingley having such an aim, even if it were true,” Jane replied after further consideration. “I would wish them both happiness, should they ever wed. Such a match would doubtless please her brother and sister, and she has a fortune and figure that must please any gentleman.”

“Any gentleman but Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth demurred. “Fortune and figure will not be enough for him.”

“You do not know him,” Jane reminded her sister, and then yawned, closing her eyes and lying back on the pillow. “Nor do I. I think we must let Mr Darcy alone.”

“You are tired,” Elizabeth realised then. “I shall let you rest now and come back before luncheon.”

∞∞∞

“How accomplished Georgiana has become!” declared Miss Bingley after Mr Darcy had answered the latest in a long series of her questions about his younger sister’s activities and achievements, especially on the pianoforte and harp.

“Indeed. Her skill on the pianoforte is most gratifying,” the dark-haired man said shortly, not looking up as he applied his quill to the inkpot beside him and then to the paper under his hand.

Caroline Bingley seemed unaware of the tone of mounting irritation in Mr Darcy’s voice. While he had seemed happy to talk about Georgiana when the topic was first broached in the drawing room after luncheon, he now clearly wished to be left alone to focus on his latest letter.

Sitting again with her book, Elizabeth remained an observer, having little to say to either party, but ever more confident in her judgements that Miss Bingley would marry Mr Darcy if she could, and that Mr Darcy would never have her. Mr Hurst snored in a chair by the fire, not having stinted with the wine at luncheon, while Mrs Hurst seemed only determined to pretend that he was not there.

“Well, I think that all young ladies are accomplished these days,” put in Mr Bingley, maybe a little more aware of his friend’s annoyance than his younger sister and seeking to draw the conversation to himself, but also seeming to mean what he said.

“Really, Charles? I hardly think so,” sniffed Caroline Bingley. “What can make you say that?”

“I wonder that you all find the time for your music, your drawing, your embroidering and learning Italian too,” he explained. “It is as much as I can do to ride each morning and read a newspaper from time to time.”

Elizabeth smiled back as he looked to her in mute appeal.

“Such accomplishment does sound rather exhausting to me too,” she conceded. “If all those talents are required.”

“Oh, there is far more to accomplishment than that,” his younger sister declared loftily, her eyes glancing over both her brother and Elizabeth as she spoke, as though to dismiss their views. “Beyond singing, drawing, dancing, Italian and French, a truly accomplished lady must have style, fashion, and womanly grace. Her manners must be as impeccable as her virtue, with no tendency to vulgar display or unseemly gossip.”

Her gaze settled pointedly on Elizabeth, its malicious intent well understood by its object. Ought she to respond to Miss Bingley? She felt as though she was being accused of some unspecified crime in a courtroom where Caroline Bingley was determined for the taciturn Mr Darcy to play judge and jury.

“She must also possess the wit and good sense to recognise vulgar display and unseemly gossip when she encounters them, and not imagine them where she does not,” the gentleman unexpectedly spoke up then, although still without raising his head. “This wisdom is best acquired by improving the mind through extensive reading.”

Elizabeth blinked in surprise. Was Mr Darcy actually defending her? Surely not. More likely, he was merely defending himself against Miss Bingley’s persistent intrusions.

Charles Bingley laughed.

“Let us leave Darcy the last word on accomplishment and all take to our books while he writes his letters,” he said jovially. “Miss Bennet, is your sister still content with the book I brought from Meryton yesterday? I would be happy to ride back to the library and exchange it if it is not pleasing.”

“There is no need,” Elizabeth assured him. “Jane is enjoying the story very much and fell asleep for an hour as I read to her this morning. I would not be surprised if she felt well enough to read for herself this afternoon.”

As they talked further of Jane, the butler brought in several letters on a silver tray and passed one to Mrs Hurst before leaving the rest to Mr Bingley. He seemed to judge none worth opening immediately after examining their addresses and seals, but instead preferred to continue his conversation with Elizabeth.

Meanwhile, Mr Darcy continued to write, and Miss Bingley took up a book from a shelf, positioning herself within his line of sight and amusing Elizabeth by frequently looking up to see whether she was being observed in her act of mental improvement.

Mrs Hurst broke the seal on her letter without delay and read avidly. Elizabeth supposed that Mr Bingley’s correspondence contained only expected letters of business, while his sister had received a missive from a friend. Her changing expressions as she read seemed to support this theory, as did her immediately rereading the letter from the start as soon as she had finished.

“I must fix my hair,” Louisa Hurst announced to the room as she folded her letter back into her hand. “It is all over the place. Will you join me, Caroline?”

Mr Hurst snored, Charles Bingley smiled blandly, and Miss Bingley looked surprised at this summons. Then she seemed to catch something in her older sister’s gaze that made her close her book and follow Mrs Hurst from the room. Darcy might as well have been in another house for all the notice he took of either lady.

“Well, I suppose I must open these eventually,” Mr Bingley sighed after a time, reaching for his letters. “Will you excuse me, Miss Bennet? Darcy is setting me such an example over there that I feel a complete idler. Pemberley business never has to wait more than a day, you know.”