Page 5 of Knowing Mr. Darcy
“Perhaps you don’t like the look of me,” said Elizabeth, with a little smirk.
“That’s it exactly,” he said blandly. “Why, anyone looking at you would think of you as only tolerably pretty, of course, not handsome enough to be tempting.”
“Darcy!” said Bingley. He turned to Elizabeth. “He’s this way sometimes, and—”
“It was a joke,” said Elizabeth, still holding his gaze.
“None of the Bennet sisters could be described as anything other than tempting,” said Mr. Darcy.
“You flatter us, sir,” said Elizabeth.
In the distance, the music started up again.
“That’s our cue, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Bingley.
“So good to meet you, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth, her voice cold.
“You as well, Miss Elizabeth,” he replied.She doesn’t like me,he realized. Probably making that offhand comment about her beauty hadn’t been wise, but she’d taunted him with it, led him right to it. What was a man to say in response to a woman sayingPerhaps you don’t like the look of me? There was no response except a compliment, and Mr. Darcy hated to be forced into such things.
On the other hand, he didn’t think she had been fishing for a compliment either. She’d said it in such a pointed way, she had meant to lead him into some other trap, a trap to make him appear improper. This could only mean that she hadn’t liked him before saying it. What had he done to draw her ire before even meeting her?
He glared after them as they made their way onto the dance floor.
He was determined not to like her either. Harridan of a woman, really. The elder sister was ever so much more pleasant.
CHAPTER TWO
ON THE MORNINGafter a ball in the Bennet household, it was necessary that the entire evening be discussed, dissected, and all events given significance. This was often done with the Lucas family, and it was thusly commenced the day after the assembly in Meryton.
Elizabeth had wished to find some time to speak with Charlotte alone before the meeting with absolutely everyone—her sisters, Charlotte’s sisters, both of their mothers, and two of the tiny Lucas boys, to boot, both young enough that they were carted around by Lady Lucas, who had no means to pay nurses or nannies for her young children. (Though Sir William Lucas had been knighted, he had left off making a living in the wake of getting his title—before he had worked in trade—and so the family was not swimming in money.)
It was this, the Lucases’ relative shabbiness, that their mother, Mrs. Bennet, was wont to comment upon. Elizabeth often thought, the the reason her mother was so intimate with the Lucas family was because the Bennets looked so much better by comparison. Why, the Bennet family kept several servants and Mrs. Bennet would never have stooped so low as to nurse her own babes, which Lady Lucas had done.
Elizabeth and Charlotte were quite close, and she felt as if her mother’s disdain for the other family was a secret shewas obliged to keep, for if Lady Lucas ever discovered in what esteem she was truly kept by Mrs. Bennet, the entire friendship would unravel.
“You began the evening well, Miss Lucas,” Mrs. Bennet was saying. “You were Mr. Bingley’s first choice.”
“Ah, but he seemed to like his second choice better,” said Charlotte, throwing Elizabeth a conspiratorial look.
Elizabeth felt herself blushing fiercely as everyone in the room turned to look at her. Elizabeth was not used to this sort of attention. Truthfully, if she did have it, she would often ruin it by being contrary in some way, cracking some joke worthy of her father, or by archly pretending to be above it all.
Jane was often the center of attention; Elizabeth did not know how to navigate it. It disrupted her badly.
“Yes, our own Lizzy,” said Mrs. Bennet, giving her a shrewd look. “Danced with you twice.” She lifted her gaze to Jane. “But Mr. Darcy would not leave our Jane’s side, and wasn’t that gracious of him! Even with a sprained ankle, unable to dance, Jane’s beauty called to the most influential and wealthy man in the room, and he was enamored by her.”
Elizabeth had not been pleased to be the center of attention, but found herself even more displeased to have it ripped away from her and focused upon Jane. She was not jealous of Jane, for Jane deserved all the praised heaped upon her and more. But she did find herself miffed at her mother’s inability to give Elizabeth even a modicum of praise.
“I can’t say he was enamored of me, Mama,” said Jane. “He seems like a very nice man, a very polite man, a very thoughtful man—”
“No, he doesn’t,” Elizabeth found herself saying.
“Oh, yes,” joined in Charlotte. “Poor Lizzy, only tolerable. What a thing to say!”
“He didn’t mean that in that way,” said Jane. “You were harsh on him from the beginning, Lizzy, and for seemingly no reason. You pushed him to say such things. You forcedhim to make some commentary on your looks—”
“Oh, forced him?” Elizabeth folded her arms over her chest. “How could I have done that? Certainly he chose to say what he wished.”
“I don’t mean it as an accusation,” said Jane, looking her over, concern writ all over her face.
