Page 60 of Colour My World
“She must have startled the poor man.” Caroline made sure her voice carried just enough for those nearby to hear.
Louisa seized her arm. “Lower your voice, for heaven’s sake.”
“Why? Did you not see Mr Darcy’s face? The shock? But one must admit, she is rather…unusual.”
Louisa lifted her chin and hurried off.
A young lady hovered near, clearly listening. Caroline turned slightly.
“Miss Bingley, is it not?” the girl asked.
“Indeed,” Caroline said. “And you are—?”
“Miss Harrington. I am staying with my aunt, Mrs Long, at Purvis Lodge.”
Caroline smiled at Miss Harrington, the seeds of a scandal, like coins in her purse. “Oh?”
Miss Harrington’s eyes glittered with excitement. “Well, it is only whispers, of course, but some say Miss Elizabeth sees spirits.”
Caroline gasped, then pressed a hand to her chest. “Spirits?”
Miss Harrington nodded solemnly. “And worse. It is said she has…visions. That she speaks of colours that are not there.”
Caroline tapped her fan against her shoulder. “How very interesting.”
“Of course,” Miss Harrington added quickly, “I do not believe such things, but, well…” She glanced towards Miss Elizabeth across the hall.
Caroline did not look away. “Indeed.”
“One wonders, truly, what Miss Elizabeth is hiding.”
* * *
Though the assembly had settled from the commotion, Bennet had no patience for further spectacle. He cornered Mr Bingley near the entrance.
“Sir,” he began, “I have ignored much over the years, but I shall not tolerate disrespect towards my daughters. If yourfriend has some moral objection to good manners, you may inform him I have no reservations about refreshing his outlook.”
“I assure you, Mr Bennet, I shall speak to him. Darcy is not—he would never mean offense.”
“Then let us call him something more fitting, shall we? Thoughtless. Unfeeling. Ill-bred. Any one will serve.”
“I…I apologize for any slight Miss Elizabeth has suffered.”
Bennet studied him for a long moment. “I believe you, sir. Let us hope you still do when, and not if, your friend repeats the exercise.”
* * *
The day following the assembly, Lady Lucas and Charlotte called. They spoke warmly of the ball, praising Meryton’s good company and Mr Bingley’s affable nature. But the real subject of interest, the one on everyone’s lips, was the public slight of Elizabeth.
As Mrs Bennet led their guests into the drawing room, cups of tea soon in hand, the conversation naturally turned to the events of the previous evening.
Charlotte, ever the pragmatist, addressed Jane first. “Jane, you were much admired last night. Mr Bingley scarcely left your side, and I daresay his admiration was apparent to all.”
Jane, seated beside Elizabeth, lowered her gaze, a soft blush rising to her cheeks. “You are very kind. Mr Bingley was most amiable and showed a fondness for Meryton.”
Mrs Bennet beamed; her excitement barely contained. “Oh, indeed! Mr Bingley spoke of nothing but the delights of our little society. He was taken with all of it. The countryside, the assembly, and especially,” she added with a pointed smile at Jane, “the company.”
Elizabeth glanced at Charlotte. Her friend sat with calmpoise, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes quietly assessing. Charlotte’saireremained steady: thoughtful, composed, and not a hint of amusement.
