Page 35 of Attempted Compromises
Darcy’s lips curved slightly, though his tone was measured. “Pride, like all things, must be tempered with reason. I admit I have often been accused of it, but I believe there is a distinction to be made. My pride is rooted not in my station but in my principles. It is a matter of knowing one’s own worth and of having the superiority of mind to control your pride, that it does not turn to vanity.”
Elizabeth regarded him for a moment, her amusement fading into curiosity. “And do you think it is possible to know one’s worth without undervaluing others?”
Darcy’s brow furrowed slightly. “I would like to think so. However, I must admit that judgment is not always perfect. We are all susceptible to prejudice, whether we realize it or not.”
“Indeed,” Elizabeth said, nodding thoughtfully. “Pride and prejudice often walk hand in hand, do they not? And yet, it is the ability to recognize one’s own failings that truly sets one apart.”
Georgiana, who had been listening quietly, interjected hesitantly. “I think humility must also play a role. Without it, even the most admirable qualities can become faults.”
Darcy glanced at his sister, his expression softening. “You are quite right, Georgiana.”
Elizabeth smiled warmly at Georgiana. “A wise observation, Miss Darcy. It seems your brother is fortunate to have someone so insightful to guide him.”
Georgiana blushed deeply, but her eyes glimmered with gratitude.
Caroline, desperate to redirect the conversation, laughed nervously. “Well, I daresay we have discussed Mr. Darcy’s character quite enough for one evening. Shall we return to more agreeable topics? Perhaps some music, Louisa?”
Her voice was high-pitched and strained, betraying her irritation. She shot a pointed look at her sister, clearly expecting support in changing the focus of the room.
Louisa Hurst, ever the compliant ally, set aside her needlework and nodded. “What a wonderful idea, Caroline. Perhaps you might favor us with a song.”
Caroline’s forced smile tightened as her gaze flicked briefly to Darcy, who had once again turned his attention to Elizabeth. Anger simmered beneath her composed exterior—her carefullyconstructed scheme to reclaim Darcy’s attention had failed spectacularly, and now the entire room had seen her efforts rebuffed.
She took her seat at the piano and played an intricate piece from memory, all the while glaring over the piano in the direction of Darcy, who had resumed staring at Elizabeth.
I willnotbe bested by an insignificant country chit! Mr. Darcy will be mine, if it’s the last thing I do.
Chapter 10
Elizabeth was delighted when Jane awoke the next morning feeling almost completely back to her usual self. She went down to breakfast by herself and, at Elizabeth’s urging, requested the carriage from Mr. Bingley so they might return home that day.
Mr. Bingley protested immediately, his concern clear. “Miss Bennet, the weather has turned cold again, and you’ve only just begun to recover. I really must insist that you remain another day. It would be dreadful if you were to suffer a relapse.”
Jane, ever the epitome of kindness, smiled gently at his earnestness. “Mr. Bingley, you are too kind. I assure you, I feel much better and would not wish to inconvenience you further.”
“Nonsense,” he replied with a wave of his hand. “Your health is far too important. You must rest here for at least another day, if not longer.”
Miss Bingley, though clearly reluctant, was forced by her brother’s insistence to extend their hospitality through the weekend.
Elizabeth and Jane exchanged a glance, and Jane inclined her head in acquiescence. “Very well, Mr. Bingley,” she said softly. “We will stay another day, but I must insist on returning home after church tomorrow.”
Once all of the arrangements had been settled, Jane returned to her room, tired from the exertions of the morning. Elizabeth helped settle her sister before going in search of something to do.
She was halfway down the hall to the library when the faint strains of music reached her ears. The sound stopped her mid-step, a rich melody floating through the hall with such precision and beauty that it compelled her to follow it. Curious, she moved toward the music room, the notes growing clearer with every step.
When she reached the slightly ajar door, Elizabeth peered inside, expecting to see Caroline or Mrs. Hurst at the piano. Instead, her breath caught. It was Georgiana Darcy, her back to the door, playing with a skill and passion Elizabeth had never before witnessed.
Georgiana’s fingers danced over the keys, coaxing a melody so exquisite it seemed to fill every corner of the room with its brilliance. Seated nearby, Mrs. Annesley worked on her knitting, her face serene as she listened to the song that Elizabeth recognized as being from Herr Mozart’sThe Magic Flute.
Ach, ich fühl's, es ist verschwunden,
Ewig hin der Liebe Glück!
Nimmer kommt ihr Wonnestunde
Meinem Herzen mehr zurück!
Sieh', Tamino, diese Tränen,
