Mr. Darcy Came to Dinner (20 page)

But he
did
know better. He had heard from the lady’s own lips what she thought of his character.
“As far as Mr. Darcy is concerned, he shall receive every courtesy, no matter how little he shows in return,”
she had said. Yesterday evening had been an act. Miss Elizabeth had been mocking him, just as at Netherfield.

The realization was bitter last night and remained so in the morning. He knew he was poor company for Georgiana, but he could not summon the energy to attend her as he should. He was, in a word, sulking.

Georgiana pointed out a pleasant aspect in the garden in a vain attempt to engage her brother before exclaiming, “Well, here is Miss Kitty! What brings you outside so early?”

Darcy saw the startled girl sitting on a bench, trying to hide something. “Good — (cough) — good morning.” She rose to her feet, her hands behind her.

“Did we disturb you?” Georgiana tried to see what the girl was concealing. “Was that not a sketch pad?”

“Georgiana,” scolded Mrs. Annesley gently. “We should not pry.”

“Oh, no, you are not disturbing — (cough) — I was not doing anything.” The girl was very flustered, her face beet red. Without much consideration for what he was doing, Darcy took pity on her.

“Miss Catherine, we would by no means interrupt you. My sister was only showing interest in your activity. We will leave you in peace.”

“I am so sorry,” cried Georgiana. “I did not mean to embarrass you. It is just that I enjoy drawing, and if you do, too, I would be happy to see your work.”

“Oh!” Kitty hung her head. “I am not offended — (cough). I draw a little, but it is nothing. Surely nothing compared to what you can do.”

Apparently, Miss Kitty coughed when agitated. Darcy said gently, “We would not think of distressing you, and if you would rather not show us your drawings, we will not be offended. But we are sincere in our interest. I would very much like to see your work.”

Kitty looked them all in the eye, biting her lip in indecision and anxiety. A moment passed, and then the girl brought out the pad from behind her back and thrust it at the others. “Here! Look at it if you like.”

A smiling Mrs. Annesley approached the girl as if she were a frightened fawn and took the pad from her trembling fingers. She returned to the chair and opened the pad in such a way that all three could see Kitty’s etchings.

After viewing the first few, Georgiana exclaimed, “Why, these are very good!”

Indeed they were, Darcy saw. Kitty was obviously untrained, and her charcoal sketches of landscapes were only tolerable, but she had a remarkable talent for portraiture. Page after page was filled with portraits of the Bennet family, posed in profile, full face, and three-quarter. Most extraordinary were the ones done surreptitiously, catching the Bennets reading, sewing, or playing the pianoforte.

“Oh, do you think so?” Kitty asked doubtfully.

“Yes, miss,” said Mrs. Annesley. “You have a fine eye.”

Darcy could not help but agree. Kitty was talented. She was able to capture one or two features that made each portrait unique to the subject. Jane’s half-smile, Mr. Bennet’s smirk, and Elizabeth’s eyes. Oh, yes, Elizabeth’s mesmerizing eyes!

“Have you ever tried watercolors?” Mrs. Annesley asked.

“No,” the girl blushed in return. “I . . . I have never asked Papa to buy watercolors for me.” Then in a rush, she exclaimed, “I do not talk about drawing very much. It is a waste of time, after all. I mean, Jane and Lizzy are kind, and so is Maria Lucas, but I am not as good as Jane with her needlework or Lizzy and Mary on the instrument. Mama wants me to improve myself and . . . and Lydia teases me — (cough).” She choked back a sob.

Georgiana frowned, took the sketchbook from Mrs. Annesley, and marched over to Kitty. “I think you are very talented,” she stated firmly, handing the pad to its owner, “and I would like very much to draw with you. Would you permit me?”

“With me? Truly?”

“Yes. I shall return to the house for my pad, and then we will draw together. Perhaps,” she turned with a cheeky grin, “we will draw my unfortunate brother. It will be a contest! Will that not be great fun?”

Kitty agreed it would be so, and Georgiana made her way quickly to the house. While she was gone, Darcy spoke to Kitty.

“Miss Catherine,” he said with mock seriousness, “I will agree to this scheme of yours, but I tell you now that I do not pose for free. Indeed, there will be a price to pay.”

Kitty took him at his word and nodded nervously. “I only hope it is not too much. Lydia has borrowed all my money for a new bonnet.”

Darcy smiled. “I do not want money, but I have a condition for my cooperation. A drawing.”

“A drawing? You want one of my drawings? Which one?”

Darcy almost asked for her portrait of Elizabeth, but he resisted the impulse. “I have a commission for you. I will agree to sit for you, but in turn you must eventually produce a portrait of Georgiana.”

“Truly? Very well, I will. Thank you, Mr. Darcy! You are so very nice, no matter what everyone else says!” Kitty caught herself and blanched, one of her hands flying to her mouth. “Oh, I should not have said that! — (cough, cough) — I am so sorry!”

Mrs. Annesley gasped a little, and Darcy’s smile faded a bit.

“Mr. Darcy has done nothing but impress me with his conceit and selfish disdain for the feelings of others.”
Elizabeth was not the only one who felt that way, apparently. Darcy knew he had damaged his reputation, and there was work to do if he meant to repair it. He spoke as kindly as he could.

“That is quite all right. We are friends now, and I trust you will let me know if I misbehave again.”

Kitty clearly could not make out what Darcy was talking about. “All . . . all right.” She then smiled. “And will you do the same for me?”

Darcy’s smile returned. “It is a bargain,” he said as he extended his hand from the chair.

Kitty giggled as she shook his hand to seal the agreement. Moments later, Georgiana returned with her pad and one for Mrs. Annesley. The three ladies took their places and withdrew their charcoals, and Darcy suffered having his likeness captured for the next hour.

* * *

Returning to Longbourn, Elizabeth felt like a leaf buffeted by the wind. One by one, her firmly entrenched opinions were being overturned.

Elizabeth could not like Miss Bingley, but she would have to have a heart of stone not to feel distress on that lady’s part after overhearing what she had. Colonel Fitzwilliam’s harsh set-down was very difficult for Elizabeth to hear, and it was not even directed at
her
. Miss Bingley’s sufferings could not be imagined.

The colonel’s tacit approval of the Bennet family was confusing. Elizabeth knew they were but simple country folk. The Bennets never went to Town and never endeavored to involve themselves in the social activities of the
ton
. Elizabeth was sure that, in the unlikely event her father attempted such a thing, the
Quality
would reject their overtures with derision and disdain. She never considered her family as even a minor part of the aristocracy, but apparently the colonel did. Were the Bennets the superiors of the Bingleys in spite of Mr. Bingley’s five thousand a year? It was an astonishing concept and, Elizabeth blushingly admitted to herself, very flattering.

Colonel Fitzwilliam also reinforced Elizabeth’s expectations of Mr. Darcy. More than ever, she was convinced that he was destined for a great lady of London as was expected of a man of his stature. It was silly to think his current behavior was anything but that of an honorable gentleman attempting to preserve his good name and not become the subject of gossip by paying too much attention to a lady for which he could have no true interest.

Mr. Darcy was a good, if proud, man — a very good man. Elizabeth wished him well. Perhaps he would marry one of those half-dozen accomplished women he knew. Perhaps he already knew the choice of his heart and only waited to recover to claim her as his own. Elizabeth hoped this mystery woman would be kind to Mr. Darcy.

Walking past the sitting room, she heard the pianoforte in use. Curiosity won out, and upon entering, she observed Mrs. Annesley demonstrate fingering for the benefit of Mary and Miss Darcy.

“Miss Elizabeth! We were just sitting down for lessons. Would you like to join us?” Miss Darcy was all smiles.

Elizabeth saw Mary’s look of disappointment and demurred. “Oh, no. I should not disturb you.”

Mrs. Annesley now spoke. “Let me assure you that your presence, rather than diminishing our enjoyment, would only increase it. We would be happy to have you.”

Mary bit her lip and said, “Yes, Lizzy. Please stay.”

Elizabeth capitulated to the entreaties, silently vowing to allow Mary the majority of the attention. The four ladies passed the next hour contentedly, and in Mary’s case, joyfully. As they quitted the room — Miss Darcy remaining for her German lesson from Mrs. Annesley — Mary uncharacteristically seized Elizabeth’s hand.

“Oh, that was so delightful!” she cried. “We shall practice every day with Miss Darcy and Mrs. Annesley while they are here, shall we not, Lizzy?”

Elizabeth assured Mary that they should, touched by this affectionate display from her normally serious sister.

Tea brought Mr. Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam, but not Miss Bingley or the Hursts. Mr. Bingley apologized for his sister’s sake; a sudden headache must be her excuse, and Mrs. Hurst stayed to attend her. A glance at Colonel Fitzwilliam showed that gentleman was uncomfortable, and Elizabeth lowered her head, hoping her countenance did not give the lie to Mr. Bingley’s statement.

The rest of tea passed uneventfully. Colonel Fitzwilliam rallied and was his usual charming character, Mr. Bingley had eyes only for Jane, and Mr. Darcy was less severe with her. Now aware of Mr. Darcy’s design, Elizabeth found herself relaxed in his company and spoke as she always did, her wit now undiminished by worry. More than once she was in conversation with their invalid guest, happily debating some point of contention. When she turned her attention to Mrs. Bennet, she saw that, while her mother was confused and sometimes alarmed at the pair’s banter, she was also pleased with the apparent peace between her second daughter and their most honored guest. Elizabeth sighed. There was no way of convincing her mother that her matchmaking schemes were in vain.

There was only one small mystery. Today it was Kitty’s turn to gaze reverently at Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth shook her head — first was Jane’s admiration, then Mary’s adulation, and now Kitty. Was it every Bennet girl’s fate to fall in love with Mr. Darcy, save Lydia and herself?

Mr. Bingley and the colonel could not remain for dinner, citing Miss Bingley’s indisposition. The meal passed without incident — roast beef and Yorkshire pudding had returned to the table, even though it was a Tuesday — but the same could not be said for afterwards. While Miss Darcy entertained the group at the pianoforte, Lydia sat and grumbled.

“Lydia, please,” Mary scolded softly, “Miss Darcy is playing.”

“Oh, who cares about that?” Lydia shot back, not lowering her voice at all. “Today is the twenty-sixth! We should be at Netherfield, dancing the night away with all the handsome officers! Instead, Mr. Bingley’s ball is canceled, and we must sit bored at home. It is unfair!”

“Lydia, please, lower your voice,” Jane advised. “It is no one’s fault that the ball had to be postponed.”

“Yes, it is,” Lydia cried. She pointed at Mr. Darcy. “It is all
his
fault!”

Up to now, Miss Darcy dutifully continued her piece. But at Lydia’s outcry, she stopped. Heedless of the spectacle she was making, indeed, reveling in the attention, Lydia continued.

“If Mr. Darcy had not broken his leg in that stupid manner, Mr. Bingley would not have cancelled the ball, and we would be dancing now! I believe he did it a-purpose! You saw how he insulted you at the assembly, Lizzy. He hates dancing!”

The entire room was aghast at Lydia’s outlandish pronouncement. Both Mr. and Miss Darcy turned pale, but before Elizabeth or Jane could take Lydia to task, correction came from a most unexpected corner.

“You naughty, naughty girl!” cried Mrs. Bennet. “How can you say such a thing about Mr. Darcy? He has suffered a serious accident, and it is only by God’s grace that he did not lose a limb! He is very welcomed here, and he deserves our pity and care. Oh,” she fanned herself, “you will give me a case of the nerves, you ungrateful child! Dancing — who cares about dancing! You can dance any old time at the assemblies! You will apologize to Mr. Darcy right away — and Miss Darcy, too — or you will be sent to your room!”

“Yes,” cried Kitty, “Mr. Darcy has been very nice, and you are being mean to him! For shame!”

Lydia, who well knew she was her mother’s and sister’s favorite, was shocked into tears.

“Lydia,” said Mr. Bennet finally, “we are waiting.”

“Oh, everyone hates me!” Sobbing, Lydia dashed from the sitting room and up the stairs. After a moment, Jane and Mary rushed to Miss Darcy’s side to reassure the shaken girl. Meanwhile, an anxious Mrs. Bennet turned to Mr. Darcy.