A/N: Update at last! Sincere thanks and apologies to all readers and reviewers. I hope the time gap hasn't pushed you away from the story for good! Here's a fairly long chapter in apology!
I also hope my cheating with the point-of-view won't put you off either. I stay in third-person, but I just can't resist getting inside Erik's head! It's the easy way out, I know, but so much fun!
Hee hee, I like this chapter.
…………….
The letter arrived as the Bennets shared breakfast the next morning.
"Miss Bingley has invited me to tea," Jane said, glancing towards Christine with startled eyes and a scarlet blush. "With an advanced apology for the absence of her brother, who will be out."
Mrs. Bennet's joyous response to the first bit of news turned swiftly to annoyance, "Out! Have you ever heard such a thing!"
"Yes, dear, I'm afraid I have. It's actually quite a common concept, to leave one's home when one wishes," Mr. Bennet replied before biting into his toast with satisfaction. "I've often thought that I myself should explore the option more extensively."
"Oh, Mr. Bennet!" his wife cried. "Well, you'll go just the same, Jane. Show those sisters what a well-mannered girl you are."
Jane flashed a nervous glance at Christine, "Do you think they mean to…examine me?"
Christine patted her hand, "If they do, what flaw could they find?"
"None at all, I say!" said Mrs. Bennet with a curt nod. "You are perfect, as they will soon see! Now hurry, get dressed properly. Wear a coat – you will be going on horseback."
"Horseback! Can't I take the coach?" Jane replied incredulously.
"Certainly not! Now go! Wear your new blue gown, dear, the one that sets off your eyes."
Jane obeyed without further protest, but Christine took up her fight, "Mother, what do you mean by sending her on horseback? It will rain!"
"And dear Jane will be forced to spend the night! I'll not have her go to Netherfield and not see Mr. Bingley." Mrs. Bennet said firmly.
And her scheme succeeded – in part. It did rain, and Jane was forced to stay at Netherfield, but in bed, with a dreadful cold. The thought of her ailing sister in a strange house with two remarkably unpleasant women appalled Christine, and she announced her intention to walk to Netherfield (for the convenient rain had gone away as though aware that its job was done) and attend Jane until she was well enough to return home.
Bingley's sisters, not exactly pleased by the need to temporarily shelter the first Bennet, were even more put out by the arrival of the second. Christine offended them further with her flushed face and muddy hem, evidence of her walk. Mr. Bingley, on the other hand, was delighted to have her and touched by her devotion to her sister.
But none was as affected by her arrival than Mr. Erik Darcy. He had been the first to encounter Christine's charming pink cheeks as she approached Netherfield, and though he lead her to the drawing room with scarcely a word between them, he could not get her voice out of his head. This alone had both shamed and confused him, but her actual presence increased his troubled musings beyond comprehension. If only she had never sung! If only her eyes weren't quite so fine, so full of lively intelligence…
But no! Rather than dwell on these thoughts, he did all he could to drive them out: riding, fencing, business, music, etc. Yet he could not avoid her forever. His absence at dinner for two consecutive would by declared unusual, even for a man of solitary habits such as he. He could not bring attention to his behavior, and despised speculation about his actions in all situations. So on the second night of Christine's stay, to dinner he went.
……….
"How is Miss Bennet this evening?" Ms. Bingley asked as Christine sat down to dinner.
Though the shadows surrounding her eyes seemed to answer well enough, Christine replied, "Not much better, I'm afraid. I am sorry for our lengthy intrusion, but she cannot yet be moved."
"Nonsense!" cried Mr. Bingley. "There is no need for such apologies. We're delighted to have you both. I only wish Miss Bennet was well for her own sake."
"Thank you," Christine replied with genuine gratitude, "You've been very good to her." She smiled, amusing herself with the thought that his outpouring of generosity had not come solely from common geniality. Mr. Bingley cared for Jane, she was sure of it now. Two days of his doting and concern indicated nothing else.
"Are you gracing us with your presence this evening, Mr. Darcy?" teased Mr. Bingley as his friend pulled his chair forward. "How very good of you."
"I had business to attend to last night. My apologies," snapped Mr. Darcy, the sharpness in his voice betraying his words. Had it not been for the mask, his facial expression would have done the same.
"Yes, 'business' that occupied you all of today as well." Remarked Miss Bingley, drawing out her words in the fashion of the self-important. She forced a laugh. "Pounding away at your piano, no doubt."
When Mr. Darcy did not reply, Christine let her curiosity shape her words. "Are you a musician, Mr. Darcy?"
Erik glanced at her quickly, startled to be the object of her address, "I am."
"He plays much better than he converses," Mr. Bingley quipped. Mr. Darcy rewarded his wit with a grimace, but Mr. Bingley was unfazed. "Luckily for us, you possess talent for both, Miss Bennet. I think even Mr. Darcy was impressed by your performance, for I heard him playing the very same song just the other day. Ms. Bennet is remarkable, isn't she, Darcy?"
This statement received an even more deadly glare than the first. Mr. Darcy composed himself and replied with icy brevity, "The only thing remarkable about Miss Bennet's performance was the astounding level of mediocrity."
Christine bristled. She acknowledged her own musical failings, but surely no one had the right to criticize her so cruelly, especially a man who hardly knew her or her talent. "That seems quite a paradox, sir. I fail to see how mediocrity can be remarkable in any way. Surely if I was that bland, you would not remember it at all."
"I think it is only memorable because of your vast potential to seem extraordinary, following an act such as your sister's."
How dare he insult her sister! "I'm sorry to have let such a rich opportunity by. If only you had emerged from your shadows to delight the party with your genius. But I suppose your music, like your face, is too good to be revealed to common country people."
Immediately Christine sensed that mentioning the mask had been a grievous error. The room froze. Even Miss Bingley, for one moment, looked more shocked than smug. Finally Mr. Darcy spoke, his even voice laced with acid.
"Yes, I'm afraid that particular party wouldn't have fully appreciated all of my finer qualities. I am not one to exploit myself for the amusement of others. Excuse me, I've lost my appetite." With graceful speed, he rose, bowed, and was gone.
Christine stared into her soup, half pleased by her victory (for if he fled, hadn't her cleverness prevailed?) and half appalled by her lack of sensitivity. She'd stomped purposefully on a sore subject. Though she didn't care about his sisters, she hoped she hadn't lost the good opinion of Mr. Bingley. Jane would be so ashamed.
But Mr. Bingley's shock had turned to slight amusement, "Excuse him, Miss Bennet. He needs a good verbal lashing every once in a while, but you're one of the few brave enough to give it to him."
"Yes, well, I do think…I was a bit…I'm sorry to disrupt the evening," she managed.
Mr. Bingley laughed, "If not for such 'disruptions,' we would die of boredom. Please destroy our tranquility any time."
Christine grinned, "Thank you. I will."
