Page 26 of Till Death Us Do Part
Anne was unperturbed. After decades with Lady Catherine, nothing Fitzwilliam Darcy could say was likely to make her even blink, let alone gasp.
“Yes, pity! I can tell you from bitter experience that no amount of money or fine houses makes up for a disagreeable life companion.”
“She should have thought of that before she compromised me.”
Bingley asked, “Are youcertainshe was involved? Her mother I would have no trouble believing. Her father would just go along with whatever happened around him. Her sisters? I would not have thought it of the eldest, though the rest of them seemed game enough, but Miss Elizabeth?”
Darcy watched Bingley flinch slightly at the mention of the eldest, but it was not the time to delve into that conversation (and would never be). He had a strict limit of one disagreeable subject per minute.
“Let us examine the idea critically, shall we. You observed Miss Elizabeth over, what was it, six weeks?”
Bingley thought a moment. “That seems right. We arrived on Michaelmas, the twenty-ninth of September, and started receiving visits from the neighbourhood.”
“You mean the vendors, trying to get first crack at displaying their wares.”
Bingley frowned at the level of cynicism, though Darcy was always such a serious fellow it was not as abrupt of a change as for someone more light-hearted.
“Let us see. I think that first assembly was the fifteenth of October. It was a Monday, and you were in fine fettle.”
“Yes, and you were insufferably chirpy and manipulative. Did you not try to get me to dance with Miss Elizabeth?”
Bingley might have entirely forgotten the first slight, since Darcy did something like that about once a quarter, so he thought back, and finally said, “Yes, I think you are right. I wonder if she heard you?”
Anne asked, “What did you say, Fitzwilliam?”
Much to Darcy’s surprise, Bingley took his new wife’s (for all of a week) hand and kissed it without embarrassment.
“Oh, Anne. I would ordinarily preface it by saying ‘you will not believe this,’ but having known him man and boy, I imagine you will without effort.”
Anne giggled, which made Darcy’s head swim a bit. “Pray tell, what did the dragon utter?”
Bingley looked to Darcy to see if he wanted the honour, but he just said, “It is your story. Have at it.”
Bingley laughed. “I tried to get him to dance, since we were attending—well, you know—a ball. I said something about ‘not standing about in this stupid manner.’”
Darcy was surprised to see Anne laugh gaily, which made him momentarily quite happy. It was the first bit of levity he had experienced since the Netherfield Ball and might be his last.
Bingley continued, “Darcy looked right at her. I hoped she could not hear, and said—”
With that, Bingley jumped up, standing as tall as he could, pushed his chest out several inches, turned his nose in the air so far he might be mistaken for his younger sister, and spoke in an artificially low, rumbling voice.
“She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to temptme; I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”
Anne gasped, then to Darcy’s surprise, she laughed again. “He didnot!”
Bingley laughed, kissed his wife’s hand again, which surprised Darcy no end. “I swear it on my life, my love.”
Anne was just shaking her head. “Do you think she heard you?”
Both looked to Darcy, who shrugged. “I have no way to know, but I suspect not. Any lady whodidhear that would have reacted differently.”
Bingley nodded, unable to find any flaw in the logic.
Darcy asked, “So back to the question of whether she was involved in my downfall or not. What is your opinion?”
“I wondered how you were found in that corner.”
Darcy frowned and stared at the floor. “She goaded me into it, though I must say the venue was my own fault. I led her there, but I was not thinking straight.”
