Two days after the issuance of the invitation was to be the date of the dinner at Netherfield. Had the invitation not been merely verbal, and had the date selected been two or three weeks hence, Elizabeth and Jane would have been reasonably anxious about securing attire that would do for a formal dinner at a grand house by people accustomed to seeing displayed the finest fashion of London. As it was, they were most happily assured the evening would be a comparatively informal affair, of which they were to be the only guests outside of Bingley's party in attendance. This, Elizabeth suspected, was for the benefit of Miss Darcy, who, being not yet out, would have been excluded from a formal dinner party.
The two days interim passed, for Elizabeth, at a pace that was too slow to assuage her uneasiness, and yet too fast to effectively prepare her. How anxious was she to be reconciled with Mr. Darcy before the impression she had left at the assembly was too firmly rooted in his mind, and yet how anxious that she have, say, a day or two more to determine what she might say and how she should act. In short, it was a torturous two days—made more tortuous by the agitated bustle of her mother. The thought that her two eldest daughters were particularly and exclusively invited to dine by their new, fashionable neighbours was, to Mrs. Bennet, a constant source of both elation and anxiety in equal measure. These two sensations were especially heightened whensoever she remembered that there would be not one, but two, bachelors of favourable age, appearance and income present, which was quite often, indeed. It frequently happened that she would make some exclamation regarding how fine an opportunity this was for her daughters to attract the interest of the gentlemen, and then be instantly excited into a fretful flutter about the house to give orders for the dressing and transportation of those daughters. By the evening of the anticipated dinner, the servants had each received their orders a little more than a dozen times. It could hardly be predicted whether Mrs. Bennet would farewell her daughters with elation or anxiety, so strong were both within her. But the former triumphed in the end, and she blissfully ushered Jane and Elizabeth out the front door to where the carriage awaited them in an autumn drizzle, all the while praising their looks and offering encouragements.
The carriage ride passed mostly in companionable silence. The thoughts of both ladies were too full for conversation; but had they known that the subject of their musings were the same—that being the predicament between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy—perhaps they would have dared to speak. But they did not, and by and by the carriage arrived at Netherfield. There the ladies were met by footmen holding umbrellas aloft to guide them safely and drily into the house.
As she stood in the entrance hall of that stately home and absently removed her outerwear, Elizabeth was quite struck with the altered appearance of the place. When she had called with her mother and sisters a few days ago, every interior aspect had looked, in the fair, late-morning light, cheerful, yet elegant—much like its master, Elizabeth had silently observed. At the present moment, however, though not yet five o'clock in the evening, it seemed the time of year had conspired with the louring sky to produce this dark transformation. Every tall, unwavering flame upon a candle, every proud, towering shadow upon the wall, everything, in short, was now austere and imposing. For a moment, it was oppressive. But in the midst of these impressions Elizabeth retained enough of her own good sense to know them to be irrational, and enough of her blithesomeness to presently laugh them away. It was in this attitude, with her intelligent eyes bright with mirth, that she entered the drawing room and curtsied to its occupants.
"Miss Bennet and Miss Eliza," called Miss Bingley, as though she were greeting good, old friends, rather than practical strangers. With poise and practised warmth, the mistress of Netherfield glided across the room to meet her guests. "How glad I am that you could join us tonight. With such a small party as we are here, we were in need of some variety of company, lest we all begin despising each other for ever."
Miss Bingley laughed, and Jane and Elizabeth smiled politely.
"You were kind to invite us," responded Jane. "We are delighted to be here."
"Indeed, we are," was all Elizabeth could offer her hostess in reply, for her attention had been drawn to a pair of eyes on the other side of the room that was, at the present, watching her intently. Whatever mirth remained in her eyes from when she had entered the room was surely there no more. Elizabeth searched the countenance of Mr. Darcy for some indication of his sentiments, but his expression was, as ever, unintelligible. Though, recent events considered, even if his thoughts had been as apparent upon his face as the eyes, brow and lips that expressed them, Elizabeth doubted she that would trust her own discernment on the matter. As she regarded him, fresh pangs of shame assailed her and she found she could no longer bear the weight of his gaze. She turned away and hoped her complexion did not betray all she felt.
Her attention returned to Miss Bingley just in time to hear her bid them sit, and Elizabeth was grateful for the sight of Georgiana offering the place by her. Elizabeth took the place, and before Jane could pass them by, Georgiana's quiet voice asked if she would join them. Jane happily agreed, and Elizabeth began the discourse.
"I wished to call on you yesterday," said she, "but the horses for the carriage were needed in the farm. I could have ventured out on foot, as it is only three miles, but I fear the fields at this time of year would leave a lady's attire rather unfit for the morning room of Netherfield, especially its carpets."
"It is no matter," replied Georgiana with hasty reassurance. "As it was, I was quite consumed with my lessons. Otherwise, I surely would have called on you."
It was amusing to Jane that the two friends were so earnest in seeking the other's pardon for the neglect of a mere one or two days, as if it was the first occurrence of such a separation since the beginning of their friendship, and not but a trifling matter when compared to the several months' separation they had, until recently, experienced. Jane attributed this to the natural sweetness of both ladies' temperaments; Darcy, who was standing near enough to hear the exchange, did the same.
"So you are keeping up your lessons while you are here?" asked Jane.
"Yes," answered Georgiana. "It was initially intended that I remain in London to study with the Masters under the supervision of a companion. But when my brother agreed to assist Charles in establishing himself here, I begged him to allow me to go, too. He ensured that I have everything I would require to continue my studies here, in Hertfordshire."
Elizabeth eyed Mr. Darcy. He was standing before the window with his hands clasped behind his back, just as he had when he and his sister had called upon her at the inn at Lambton. She had thought him quite rude then. Indeed, he had been quite rude, and she was almost rendered speechless by his impoliteness and obvious disdain for her relations and herself. Yet, as she looked at him and remembered what she had thought and felt then, Elizabeth was a little surprised by the change time and circumstance had produced in her. How different were her present feelings from then. At first she had thought too poorly of him to much regard what he thought of her, and then she had only cared what he thought so far as it affected her friendship with his sister. But now, she felt strangely anxious that he think well of her, for no other reason but that she wished him to think well of her.
"Your brother is very considerate," said Elizabeth.
Georgiana beamed with quiet enthusiasm at this opportunity of praising her brother. "Indeed, he is. And he searched out new music books as a gift to me just before we left London. He is too kind; I do not deserve it!"
"I think you do." Elizabeth smiled at her with sisterly affection.
"Oh, Lizzie—now you are too kind!" laughed Georgiana. "Is she not, brother?"
As Darcy turned and stepped towards them, Elizabeth could only briefly glance at him before averting her eyes in embarrassment. Every preparation she had made over the past two days for when she would have to converse with Mr. Darcy failed her. He asked of what they were speaking.
"I was just telling Lizzie that she is too kind to me, just as you are. Is she not?"
Never before had Elizabeth so wished for a fiery log to fall out of the hearth and onto the carpet, for then she might have reasonably run out of the room. There was no such obliging log, however, so she could do little but look down at her hands.
After a brief pause, Darcy answered, "Miss Elizabeth is, indeed, kind."
Elizabeth looked up at him with no little astonishment. Feeling she must say something, she offered, "I was merely conveying to Georgiana that she merits the kindness she receives."
Darcy smiled and gave a small nod in agreement.
At that moment, dinner was announced. Miss Bingley rose to direct the order of the procession to the dining room.
"Charles," called she, "you escort Louisa and Miss Bennet; Mr. Hurst shall escort Georgiana and Miss Eliza; and Mr. Darcy, you shall be my escort." This last instruction she pronounced with a faintly possessive simper as she sauntered to Darcy's side. At another time, this display would have required Elizabeth to turn away to hide her amusement; but on the current occasion, with her heart yet pounding from her brief but confusing exchange with Mr. Darcy, Miss Bingley's parade through the room did little more than vaguely annoy her.
Mr. Hurst proceeded towards Elizabeth and Georgiana, and offered an arm to each with fashionable indifference. The ladies accepted the arms, and together they followed Mr. Bingley to the dining room. If Elizabeth were asked later to provide direction of the dining room from the drawing room, she would be powerless to supply an answer. Not any of the furnishings of the hallway, paintings on the walls, or aspects of the windows were observed by her. Nor did she attend the remarks of her escort, for he made none. All that she could think of was the unaffected generosity of Mr. Darcy towards her. If any was underserving of that man's kindness, Elizabeth felt it was she. Rather than overcome with wretchedness, however, she was, on the whole, mystified. How often had he astonished and bewildered her since their first meeting, she could hardly say. It was certainly more than any other person of her acquaintance.
All entered the dining room and stood around the room as the ladies chose their seats. Miss Bingley took her place, as mistress, at the head of the table, and cordially asked Georgiana if she would take the honoured seat to the right of Mr. Bingley at the bottom of the table—although it sounded to Elizabeth more like an instruction than a request.
"Miss Bennet," continued Miss Bingley, "will you not take the seat by me?" She indicated to the seat to her left. Jane accepted it graciously and moved to stand behind it.
Mrs. Hurst selected for herself the other seat beside her brother, and invited Elizabeth to take the available seat to her left. Elizabeth could do nothing but reply in the affirmative and thank her. With only two seats remaining, and only one in the middle of the table closest to the food, Mr. Hurst silently took the seat between Jane and Georgiana, leaving Mr. Darcy to take the honoured seat to Miss Bingley's right. It was all most naturally done, and only took a few moments to accomplish, but Elizabeth, perceiving a hint of satisfaction on Miss Bingley's countenance, suspected some cunning was employed in those seating arrangements. She had little time to consider this, however, for the sight of Mr. Darcy walking around the table to take the place between Miss Bingley and herself soon drove out all other thoughts. Her heart, having barely recovered its natural pace, thumped again. Darcy reached his place and all were seated.
The food was excellent, but Elizabeth wished the conversation had also been so. Her two companions were engaged in separate conversations: Mrs. Hurst either spoke with her brother and Miss Darcy, or silently attended their conversation as she ate; Miss Bingley was engrossed by Mr. Darcy, even to the periodic neglect of Jane. Mrs. Hurst would, on occasion, pose some question to Elizabeth—on the prompting of her brother, she suspected. But invariably upon hearing Elizabeth's answer, Mrs. Hurst would give a pleasing, genial reply, turn back to her brother and would think of her no more. By the conclusion of the second course, Elizabeth had spoken three times, and all to Mrs. Hurst. Even so, Elizabeth blamed Mrs. Hurst for her neglect more than she did Mr. Darcy for his, for he often made to turn to her, but was always prevented from doing so by the unabating conversation of Miss Bingley. It also did not escape Elizabeth's notice how frequently he would, while inclining his ear to his hostess, glance back at her with what looked to her like concern.
Some time during the third course, Miss Bingley turned her attention to Jane, and all at the table were deeply absorbed in conversing or eating—all but Darcy and Elizabeth. Elizabeth's face flushed. However unexpectedly it had presented itself, this would be, in all likelihood, her only opportunity that evening of speaking to Mr. Darcy alone. Taking in a breath of courage, she addressed him.
"Mr. Darcy," said she, without looking at him, "there is something I would say to you, if you would be willing— if you would be so kind as to hear it."
Elizabeth dared to glance up at his face. He appeared as composed as ever, except for his eyebrows, which were lifted a little higher than was customary for them.
"Of course," answered he and turned himself toward her.
"I feel," she quickly turned her eyes to his wine glass, "I must apologise to you. At the assembly you wished to relate something to me, but I would not let you. That was unkind of me, and I am sorry."
"Think no more of it," said he, earning the return of Elizabeth's eye. "I would not have you trouble yourself on my account."
This was said with decision and frankness; there was no unkindness or bitterness in his voice or manner, but neither was there excessive gallantry. No contrived response could have pleased or relieved Elizabeth so well as this response which he gave most naturally.
As Elizabeth considered him, her lips hinted at a playful smile. "I would not trouble myself on your account, if it were possible. Regrettably, my conscience will have none of that."
Darcy's lips twitched slightly. "How inconvenient for you."
"It is. Quite inconvenient."
"I am sorry to hear it."
Something in Darcy's manner emboldened Elizabeth. "But I do believe you are able to ease my suffering."
"Am I, indeed?" Darcy's eyebrows rose a little, and his countenance altogether struggled to conceal his amusement. "I should like to help, if I can."
Elizabeth leaned a shade closer to Darcy. "Then you may begin by telling me what it was you wished to say at the assembly."
This Darcy had not expected, nor could he immediately produce a reply; for a moment, Elizabeth's confidence faltered. Discreetly, he cast a quick glance about the room at the other diners, then inclined towards Elizabeth, drawing himself nearer to her than she had inclined to him. She mirrored the action and watched him intently.
In a deep-toned whisper, he said, "I will, but not here."
If Mr. Darcy had intended to explain further, Elizabeth was not to know, for no sooner had he uttered those few words than Miss Bingley begged to have his opinion on some matter she was discussing with Jane. Elizabeth credited the thrill those whispered words sent through her to the curiosity they elicited—though one could surmise, and rightly, that something in the intimacy of the exchange and the low richness of Mr. Darcy's voice were partly responsible for the sensation.
Elizabeth spent the remainder of dinner in silence, for Miss Bingley would not risk relinquishing the attention of Darcy again, and Mrs. Hurst continued to be as mindful a dinner companion to Elizabeth as she had ever been. Nonetheless, Elizabeth was not discomposed. Indeed, for the first time in days she felt light and untroubled.
Some short time later brought the conclusion of dinner, and so the ladies rose to retire to the drawing room and leave the men to their port. Without the men to distract them, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst proved to be most agreeable. 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. If Elizabeth had not, only moments before at dinner, experienced the indifference of those two sisters, their engaging manners then might just have swayed her from her dislike of them.
As the evening progressed, conversation in the drawing room became increasingly difficult to carry. What had begun as a light, autumn shower had gradually escalated into a rather severe storm, until it was almost impossible to be heard above it without raising one's voice to an unladylike pitch. Jane and Elizabeth often and with growing frequency glanced out at the deteriorating weather, and just as often, Georgiana glanced at them. The brows of all three were furrowed with concern.
Sooner than expected, the gentlemen joined the ladies in the drawing room. Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy strode directly to the windows.
"Upon my soul!" exclaimed Mr. Bingley. "That rain is positively torrential!"
"Indeed!" cried Miss Bingley. "What ghastly weather to travel home in!" She offered Jane and Elizabeth a sympathetic look.
"Surely there is no question of that," stated Darcy, firmly.
"Indeed not!" exclaimed Bingley. "It is no weather to send two ladies out in, especially at night. No, they will have to stay here, at least for tonight." He turned to those ladies and continued with true concern. "I do apologise for the inconvenience, Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, but I will make sure that you and your servants are comfortable while you remain here."
Jane and Elizabeth accepted his hospitality with warmth and gratitude, to which he responded with an affable nod. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst exchanged a look but said nothing.