Page 105 of Colour My World
“My standing?” Darcy cut in, his expression darkening. “It isyouwho mistake consequence, madam. I shall not stand by and listen to slander against a woman who has shown more wit, dignity, and grace than those who claim superiority by nothing but idle fortune.”
Miss Bingley paled, but her anger flared hot. “Then perhaps we ought to return to the matter offamily, Mr Darcy. You cannot deny that the Bennets are wholly unfit to be linked with yours. Their relations in Cheapside alone—”
“I mean precisely what I have said.” Darcy set his glass down. “Elizabeth Bennet is not beneath me. In character, wit, and grace, she stands far above those who claim superiority through mere inheritance. It is others who cling to borrowed consequence that ought to examine their station.”
Bingley exhaled. Miss Bingley, for once, said nothing.
“I will retire.” Darcy inclined his head to Bingley. “I trust tomorrow’s company may offer less tedium.”
Chapter 38
The following morning, Darcy entered the breakfast-parlour. The air carried the rich scent of fresh coffee, a stark contrast to the stale tension of the drawing room from the night before.
He had expected to find solitude. Instead, at the sideboard, he found Hurst.
Darcy halted. “You are returned.”
“Last night,” Hurst replied, lifting his cup in greeting.
Darcy crossed to pour his coffee. “I had understood you would remain in Town until Christmas.”
“That was my intention. Louisa convinced me otherwise.”
Darcy had once asked Hurst about his affairs, but the man had revealed nothing. He was a master of obfuscation. What little Darcy had discerned was this: Hurst moved in circles beyond mere society, knew men in every town and village, and—if Darcy had to guess—gathered intelligence with the same devotion a numismatist reserved for rare coins.
“Mrs Hurst is a discerning woman.”
“Thank you. I agree.”
“This seems rather extreme for parlour tittle-tattle.”That could not be all it was.“Is there something more?”
“Your express.”
Hurst has spoken with Fitzwilliam?“I had not thought my account widely shared.”
“It was not. But it reached the necessary hands.” Hurst reached for his gloves. “I shall return to Town shortly. And I will not be alone.”
Bootsteps sounded in the corridor—trunks being moved, Bingley’s voice in the hall. Mr Howard entered with Hurst’s coat and hat.
With one last glance, Hurst said, “Be watchful, Darcy. Not allcomedies conclude with laughter.” Then he was gone.
* * *
The breakfast-parlour felt oddly vacant. Only the quiet clink of silver against china and the occasional creak of a chair disturbed the silence. Bingley stared at Darcy. Darcy stared at Bingley. Both looked down at their plates.
Bingley exhaled. “I must say, the morning is unusually agreeable.”
Darcy lifted his cup. “Indeed. No chatter. No clashing opinions. No scheming.”
Bingley nodded. “No interruptions.”
Darcy took a measured sip. “No theatrics.”
Bingley grinned. “No hostess.”
Darcy set down his cup. “No means of issuing invitations.”
“Other than men,” Bingley replied.
