Page 20 of Eavesdroppers Never Hear
With a shake of his head, he approached the parlour and decided he should abandon analogies altogether as they were getting more ridiculous. He was entering a parlour with five unmarried ladies, so it was time to pay attention to what he was about.
It took a single glance to find Mrs Bennet up to her old tricks—or at least, he assumed they were, since he had never spoken to her for more than a minute or two.
Miss Elizabeth and Miss Mary sat on a duchess near the fire, and Miss Bennet sat nearby sharing a sofa with Mrs Bennet. Mr Bennet was sitting in an old but comfortable looking chair, leaving the two youngest in chairs between their parents. The only empty seat was next to Miss Lydia, naturally.
Mrs Bennet said, “Welcome, Mr Darcy. Pray, have a seat. Dinner will arrive soon.”
He had to admit that she said it with a surprisingly decorous voice. He wondered if what he thought of as screeching was only employed in company; someone (like her elder daughters) had spoken to her about her tone; or the far more likely explanation—he had been looking to find fault and exaggerated it. Comprehending the most likely explanation was his fault instead of hers was again humbling; but he suspected he would eventually become accustomed to the feeling.
“Thank you,” he said with slightly exaggerated politeness.
Without complaints about her obvious attempt to throw him at her silliest daughter, he went to the indicated chair and did what politeness dictate—carried it over and plopped it down between the elder Bennet sisters, held his hands out to the fire to give a weak excuse for the rearrangement, and sat down.
Miss Mary barely repressed a giggle, while Miss Bennet simply smiled, which seemed to be her reaction to just about everything. He wondered if her smile was in any way related to his own scowl and thought it likely.
Miss Elizabeth made no effort to contain her mirth whatsoever, but instead leaned over to whisper, “Touché!” with a bright smile.
Of course, she would have had to scream to be heard over the giggles of the youngest Bennets, so the whisper was superfluous.
Lydia giggled long and loud. “La, Mr Darcy. You would think you were frozen to death!”
Kitty giggled and tried to best her sister. “I thought Northmen were immune to cold!”
Darcy laughed along for a moment. “We are tougher than average, Miss Catherine, but only an idiot disparages a good fire.”
The three eldest laughed, but he noticed a look of surprise on the youngest and Mrs Bennet. He presumed he had won another point by accurately naming one of the younger sisters. He gave a slight grin to Miss Mary and Miss Elizabeth on their sofa, and they nodded to acknowledge the point.
Mrs Bennet was flummoxed, so she started chatting with her youngest daughters about gossip she picked up in the churchyard, while Miss Bennet turned towards Mr Darcy. Darcy was astounded that there could be anything noteworthy except his making a fool of himself, but he apparently did not know how things worked.
The three elder sisters turned toward him and spoke quietly while Darcy kept an eye on Mr and Mrs Bennet to see if they were listening. The patriarch seemed amused, and Darcy had no idea if he could hear or not.
Elizabeth said, “That was smoothly done, Mr Darcy. I doubt your reprieve will last long… but well done.”
Seeing that Mrs Bennet was occupied with her youngest daughters, he laughed, “I mentioned my cousin the colonel? He tells me that sometime in the first fortnight of training they give new recruits a twenty-pound pack and march them twenty miles to toughen them up.”
“And?” Mary asked curiously.
“And…” he said with a dramatic pause, “…a month at Netherfield counts as at least a twenty-pound pack?”
The three burst into laughter sufficient to make the rest of the ladies in the room stop speaking and stare. It was one thing for the man to act the consummate gentleman and apologise for the behaviour at Netherfield, but quite another for him to tease and be teased about it. All three ladies looked as if they did not know the man at all.
Lydia asked, “La, what did Mr Darcy say that was so funny?”
Mary said, “You had to be there, Lydia,” but with a gentle enough tone to remove any sting.
Lydia just shook her head in confusion, then apparently decided her elder sisters were perfectly welcome to the dreariest man in the county, even if he could manage to make her dullest sisters laugh from time to time.
Mr Bennet gave a smirk that Darcy took to mean he had overheard the whole thing. He wondered exactly what the patriarch was thinking. It seemed obvious the man took amusement from his family, and that he did not take any of them seriously, aside from Miss Elizabeth on occasion.
His ruminations were interrupted by a servant calling them to table.
The Bennets did not appear to stand on ceremony, at least on Sundays, so when the parents went first, the daughters went in order of how close they happened to be to the door.
He thought about offering his arm to one of the elder sisters but had no idea if that was a good idea or not.
Miss Bennet noticed his confusion. “We do not stand on ceremony on Sundays.”
He was offered a position of honour next to Mr Bennet, while the rest of the family occupied their customary seats.
