Chapter Five

For the Bennets at Longbourn, not much was materially altered by the residence of their new neighbors. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst had deigned to call on them the day following Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy's visit, which Jane felt all the compliment of, and Elizabeth, the impertinence. Mr. Bingley's sisters had claimed grave headaches the morning when their brother and his friend called to explain their absence. While Jane was satisfied with that answer, Elizabeth was suspicious. She knew the sisters to think the Bennet sisters beneath them and could only amount their civility as the most particular desire of the brother.

The daffodils from Mr. Bingley's friend, however, were the source of much interest and reflection not only within the family but throughout town. A report had circulated of Mr. Darcy showing up on the Bennet's doorstep, drenched from rain, pristinely exquisite bouquet all the way from Denmark in hand, and begging for an audience with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Elizabeth suspected Lydia as the culprit of this rumor.

After exasperatedly explaining to a very amused Charlotte Lucas that the truth of the matter had been much duller ("it wasn't even raining!"), Elizabeth did take into consideration the reason the flowers had been brought. They had been beautiful, she had grudgingly admitted to herself. Yellow was a favorite of hers. She was also much less practiced at receiving flowers from gentlemen than her sister Jane. Even more so, she was less practiced at accepting so glorious a bouquet. He must have sent an express to a hothouse in London, she realized after consulting a botanical book in her father's library. It simply didn't make sense. He was as disinterested in her as she in him, so why had he put on a facade suggesting otherwise?

Elizabeth resolved to put him out of her mind–easier said than done, as following the Great Daffodil Distraction (as she now privately called it), he always ended up within a short distance of her at gatherings. He attended her conversations silently, soberly, and without a hint of a suggestion that he might partake.

It was at one such soiree at Lucas Lodge that they both were in attendance that she commented on her tall shadow to Charlotte.

"What can Mr. Darcy mean by listening to my conversations?"

"That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can answer," replied Elizabeth's friend.

"Well, if he does it any more, I shall certainly let him know that we see what he is about," Elizabeth said pertly. "He has a very satirical eye, and if I do not begin by being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of him."

Soon after, he approached her, but without any indication that he would do more than observe. Charlotte gave her friend a significant look. Elizabeth took the challenge.

"Do not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself extraordinarily well when I was teasing Colonel Forster for a ball?"

Mr. Darcy looked stunned at being addressed but recovered quickly.

"Certainly. But the subject must be one that always renders a lady eloquent."

"You are severe upon us!" Elizabeth cried with false indignation.

"It is her turn to be teased," Charlotte said quickly, "I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you must know what follows."

"You are a strange creature by way of a friend! If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have proved invaluable. But as it is–oh, very well, dear Charlotte." She shook her head with an indulgent smile and allowed herself to be led to the pianoforte.

The whole room quieted, and every head turned towards Miss Elizabeth in apparently the most remarkable anticipation. Half a minute into the performance, Darcy understood why. Though she played but a simple folk song, neither complex in music or lyrics, it was performed with genuine passion and sweetness he had not seen in the first circles. Only in Georgiana, the thought, unbidden, came to him. He blinked it away.

Upon the completion of her tune, Miss Elizabeth was promptly implored by the room for another. She demurred gracefully, curtsying and returning to Miss Lucas's side. Darcy was disappointed. At least while playing, he had reason enough to look at her.

"-Some of us cannot afford to be choosy when it comes to the matter of approving our daughters' husbands, but I for one, Lady Lucas, will never experience that. It is highly gratifying, you know, to have five such ladies of beauty and accomplishment under my care."

Mrs. Bennet was audible before she was visible. Darcy ducked beside a pillar, choosing his dignity over the pleasure of watching Miss Elizabeth.

"It must be so agreeable, then, Mrs. Bennet, to have them all un-married yet," Lady Lucas was saying, rather frostily.

A laugh that could only be attributed to the Bennet matriarch. "Yes, indeed, Lady Lucas. Why my girls have already turned away any number of proposals already–Jane most of all. And why shouldn't she? With her beauty and temper, she would grace the arm of a Duke and bring no inconsiderable fortune to the match. Ah–but, on that score, perhaps it is better to remain silent."

"Indeed," snapped Lady Lucas. Darcy heard them shuffle past. He stepped out from his hiding place, a sense of unplaceable forlornness washing over him. Here was Mrs. Bennet's reason for not throwing her daughters at his feet: she did not believe they needed him. Or Bingley, for that matter. But how? He understood Bennet's estate yielded only £2000 per annum–a respectable number, to be sure, but nothing near enough to provide impressive dowries for five daughters.

His eyes found Miss Elizabeth's figure, who happened to be facing him. She was talking animatedly to Miss Lucas and the eldest Mr. Lucas, without a sliver of a hint of her quiet observer.

Is this why she seemed impervious to the allure of 10,000 a year? He had not gotten the right of her character: she was just like Miss Bingley. She was a mercenary–nay, a social climber. She would (and could) settle for no less than an Earl, which Darcy reminded himself, he was not.

He firmly resolved at that moment to despise her, and her stupid, scheming mother and her small, amount-unknown fortune she possessed. While it is little effort to decide the direction of one's heart, it is much more to hold fast to such convictions, a lesson that Mr. Darcy, Master of Pemberly, was in short order of learning.


Author's Note (April 7, 2022) Whew. Many thanks to all of you who reminded me of Uncle Gardiner's keen understanding of business matters. I have thus increased the girls' fortunes (see my note in Chapter Three. Mrs. Bennet would be even more appreciative than I, as you've more than tripled her girls's dowries! Please bear with me as I update the previous chapters accordingly. Assuming that each girl gets £2150 at birth invested with a 10% ROI, compounded annually with a monthly contribution of £15, here are the girls' updated dowries: Jane, age 23, would have £34,334, and £1373/year. Elizabeth, age 20, would have £25,324 and £1012/year. Mary, age 18, would have £20,600 and £824/year. Kitty, age 17, would have £18,555 and £742/year. Lydia, age 15, would have £15,005 and an annual income of £600.