Page 104 of Colour My World
“Vulgar?” Bingley repeated, his easy smile faltering. “I find the society most obliging.”
Miss Bingley sighed. “It is hardly a matter of manners, dear brother. It is the lack of refinement, the absence of any true gentility. We may as well be castaways on some faraway isle.”
“Oh, come, Caroline.” He turned to Mrs Hurst. “You were quite content at the assembly.”
“It was quite—”
“She merely endured it, Charles,” Miss Bingley said. “And I have suffered every moment since.”
Darcy, silent until now, lifted his gaze. Keen. Unyielding. A warning.
“I take it, then, Miss Bingley, that you would rather be anywhere but here?”
“You mistake me, Mr Darcy,” she returned with a saccharine smile. “I would rather be anywhere than amongcertaincompany.”
Bingley’s face darkened. “Caroline, this has gone far enough.”
“Oh, has it?” she replied. “I think not. We all know why you have lingered in this wretched place, and if you are too blind to admit it, I shall not be.”
Miss Bingley turned towards him with sudden vehemence. “You cannot deny that Charles is making a spectacle of himself. His infatuation with Miss Bennet—”
“Is my concern.” Bingley fixed narrowed eyes on his sister.
“Then let us speak of another Miss Bennet.” She wielded the name like an accusation. “You defend her at every turn but let us be honest. Is it her mismatched eyes that have ensnared you? Her muddy petticoats, perhaps? Or is it herconnectionsthat have so enraptured you? What an excellent prospect! Thenephew of an earl leg-shackled to a lady whose one uncle is the town solicitor and the other in trade.”
Darcy squeezed the chair back. “You test the limits of my patience, madam.”
“Oh? I think not. We all saw your reaction upon your first acquaintance. Youcuther. If this had been Town, she would have decamped for parts unknown. But not in this county. Apparently, in Hertfordshire, a social cut is not a cut. Here, it seems, even snubs go unnoticed.”
“You wilfully misrepresent the events.”
“Do I?”
Darcy stared at her until she turned away.
Mrs Hurst placed her hand on Bingley’s forearm. “Charles, would it not be a good idea to retreat to our separate corners?”
Bingley seemed to ignore her. “And yet I recall,Caro, you told me you did not care a jot of Miss Bennet’s connections. You spoke quite eloquently on the matter, as I recall.”
Miss Bingley rounded on him in disbelief. “Charles—”
“I am notconcernedabout their relations,” Bingley repeated. “Nor is Darcy, it would seem.”
Miss Bingley turned to Darcy. “Surely you cannot mean—”
“Have you forgotten the social order? Or must I remind you that birth outranks wealth?”
Mrs Hurst, lips pursed, shook her head.
Darcy did not soften his tone. “You are the daughter of a tradesman.”
He turned to Bingley. “Forgive me, my friend.”
“Of course, Darce.”
Darcy made sure he had Miss Bingley’s attention. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet outshines you in every measure that matters.”
Miss Bingley let out a short, mirthless laugh. “Indeed? I have never known you to be so absurd, sir. A lady of her standing, her circumstances. Why, you cannot be serious. You will loweryourself, your name, your consequence—”
