Chapter 11
When the ladies removed to the kitchen to wash up after dinner, Elizabeth ran to her sister, and, seeing her well guarded from cold, attended her into the lounge/diner; where she was welcomed by her two friends with many professions of pleasure; and Elizabeth had never seen them so agreeable as they were during the hour which passed before the gentlemen appeared. Their powers of conversation were considerable. They could describe an entertainment with accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, and laugh at their acquaintance with spirit.
But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer the first object. Miss Bingley's eyes were instantly turned towards Darcy, and she had something to say to him before he had advanced many steps. He addressed himself directly to Miss Bennet, with a polite congratulation; Mr. Hurst also made her a slight bow, and said he was ``very glad;'' but diffuseness and warmth remained for Bingley's salutation. He was full of joy and attention. The first half hour was spent in piling up the fire, lest she should suffer from the change of room; and she removed at his desire to the other side of the fireplace, that she might be farther from the door. He then sat down by her, and talked scarcely to any one else. Elizabeth, playing a game on her phone in the opposite corner, saw it all with great delight.
When tea was over, Mr. Hurst reminded his sister-in-law of the queening table - but in vain. She had obtained private intelligence that Mr. Darcy did not wish to see her thus displayed; and Mr. Hurst soon found even his open petition rejected. She assured him that no one intended to lie upon it, and the silence of the whole party on the subject seemed to justify her. Mr. Hurst had therefore nothing to do but to stretch himself on one of the beanbags and go to sleep. Darcy took up a book; Miss Bingley did the same; and Mrs. Hurst, principally occupied in playing with her bracelets and rings, joined now and then in her brother's conversation with Miss Bennet.
Miss Bingley's attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr. Darcy's progress through his book, as in reading her own; and she was perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking at his page. She could not win him, however, to any conversation; he merely answered her question, and read on. At length, quite exhausted by the attempt to be amused with her own book, which she had only chosen because it was the second volume of his, she gave a great yawn and said, ``Fuck me, I'm bored!''
No one made any reply. She then yawned again, threw aside her book, and cast her eyes round the room in quest of some amusement; when, hearing her brother mentioning the cheese and wine party to Miss Bennet, she turned suddenly towards him and said,
``You serious? Don't you think you should ask us first? Not everybody likes parties. Wanker!"
``If you mean Darcy,'' cried her brother, ``he can fuck off if he don't want to come. As soon as one of the illegals have made a cheese and pineapple hedgehog then I'll text everyone to come on over, for real. ''
``I like salty cheese balls infinitely better,'' she replied.
"Dirty bitch!" muttered Elizabeth.
``I prefer to just sit around and have a chat rather than all that fucking dancing and shit. Specially if you've been eating cheese and wine. Make sure all the windows are open for fuck's sake 'cos the fart are gonna be fucking vile."
``Shut the fuck up! I'm having a cheese and wine party. End of.''
Miss Bingley made no answer; and soon afterwards got up and walked about the room. Her figure was elegant, and she walked well; - but Darcy, at whom it was all aimed, was still inflexibly studious. In the desperation of her feelings she resolved on one effort more; and turning to Elizabeth, said,
``Get up you lazy bitch. You want DVT or what?"
Elizabeth was surprised, but agreed to it immediately. Miss Bingley succeeded no less in the real object of her civility; Mr. Darcy looked up. He was as much awake to the novelty of attention in that quarter as Elizabeth herself could be, and unconsciously closed his book. He was directly invited to join their party, but he declined it, observing that he could imagine but two motives for their choosing to walk up and down the room together, with either of which motives his joining them would interfere.
``D'you understand what the fuck could he's going on abart?"
``Ain't got the foggiest,'' was Elizabeth's answer; ``but he's obviously gonna say something snide about it. 'Cos he's a fucking gay tosser."
Miss Bingley, however, was incapable of disappointing Mr. Darcy in anything, and persevered therefore in requiring an explanation of his two motives.
``Well, you're either whispering skanky shit about somebody,'' said he, as soon as she allowed him to speak. ``Or you want me to check out your punani which I can do better from here, innit.''
``Fuck off twat!'' cried Miss Bingley. ``Cheeky bastard! Let's give him a Chinese burn.''
``Nothing so easy, a wedgy would be more painful,'' said Elizabeth.
``Sounds good – I'll take the front!"
``Yeah, let's have a laugh!'' cried Elizabeth. ``He fucking hates that. Stuck up snooty wanker that he is. I laugh at everything me, especially if I've just been snorting crack.''
``Anything's funny if you're on crack,'' said he, ``apart from your dealer's bill. ''
``Fuck off,'' replied Elizabeth - ``I ain't got a dealer. Lydia makes all my crack.''
``Well, anyway, I try to avoid acting like a stupid arse 'cos I don't like my crew to laugh at me, yeah.''
``What about vanity and pride? You fucking excel at those.''
``You saying I'm vane? I ain't vane. You disrespecting me? Yeah, maybe I'm proud but that's 'cos me crew, innit. I'm proud of me bruvvers. ''
Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile.
``Wot you laughing at?'' said Miss Bingley.
``Darcy just said he ain't got no defects. Funny that 'cos I'm staring right at one.'' Elizabeth pointed at Darcy's crotch.
``No'' - said Darcy, ``I've got faults but that ain;t one of 'em, I hope. I've never had any complaints in that department anyway. But I will say if you piss me off then that's it, yeah. I'm fucking through with you, for real."
``I wish I gave a shit,'' cried Elizabeth.
``Everybody got someting which is not good, innit. Nobody perfect.''
``And your something not good is that you fucking hate everybody.''
``And yours,'' he replied with a smile, ``is to talk shit.''
``You two put a sock in it for fuck's sake,'' - cried Miss Bingley, tired of a conversation in which she had no share. - ``Let's have a sing song.''
Her sister made not the smallest objection, and the karaoke machine was switched on, and Darcy, after a few moments recollection, was not sorry for it. He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention.