Chapter 2
'Elizabeth? You seem out of sorts,' Mr Bennet of Longbourn said. 'Do you miss the superior company you enjoyed at Netherfield Park?'
Elizabeth had nursed her elder sister Jane who'd taken ill while having dinner at the neighbouring estate and the two of them had spent several days there. Their host, Mr Bingley, was amiable and had the good sense of being close to falling in love with her sister, but his own sisters, who lived with him, were unpleasant ladies. Another reason why Elizabeth had been glad to leave Mr Bingley's house that morning was his lack of proper reading material. Sitting in her father's comfortable study she could however barely concentrate on the interesting volume on her lap. In reply to her father's teasing question she cocked an eyebrow at him. It made him grin, but instead of picking up his book, he eyed her expectantly. Elizabeth sighed and took a moment to phrase her thoughts. 'I always believed that I was a good judge of characters.' Her father nodded his agreement, which made Elizabeth smile despite herself. 'Yet something happened that made me think I'm sometimes let by prejudices.'
'Oh? Ah: Mr Darcy's comment at the assembly set you up against the man! Insulting my Lizzy, shame on him!'
Elizabeth didn't care much for the humour in her father's voice, and with a shock she realized that she was among the many who could amuse Mr Bennet. 'He said that I wilfully misunderstand everybody.'
Mr Bennet laughed. 'Wilfully misunderstanding people is a way to brighten our days. Surely you told him so?'
Elizabeth, deciding then and there that she would keep a conversation she'd overheard between Miss Bingley and Mr Bingley's friend and guest Mr Darcy to herself, quoted an old Greek philosopher, knowing that that would result in a quoting game, leading attention away from Netherfield.
After leaving her father to his books she took a stroll in the gardens where she allowed her thoughts to drift back to the shrubbery at Netherfield where Mrs Hurst, Mr Bingley's eldest sister, and she had walked together. The lady's silk shawl had gone flying and Elizabeth, not caring for Mrs Hurts's slow walking pace, had delighted in running after it to catch it. It got caught by a conifer and as she reached out to retrieve it Miss Bingley's voice had entered her ears in midsentence: 'check that little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence, which your lady possesses.' Elizabeth, incensed by this injustice, had been utterly surprised when it wasn't her host who replied but Mr Darcy. Miss Bingley had then mentioned portraits of uncle and aunt Philips in the gallery of Mr Darcy's country estate and Elizabeth barely had time to think about this when Miss Bingley spoke of 'your Elizabeth's picture'. Elizabeth had listened to Mr Darcy's reply and grateful that her footsteps didn't betray her, she'd walked toward Mrs Hurst to wordlessly hand her the freed shawl. Mrs Hurst and she had met the other pair and while Miss Bingley had been startled by the sudden appearance of her sister and her guest, Mr Darcy, probably thinking that Miss Elizabeth couldn't possibly have heard him, had appeared undisturbed.
What still disturbed Elizabeth was that had she not known that she was the lady that had been discussed she would have concluded that Mr Darcy might be interested in said lady: though the gentleman was capable of biting comments and subtle criticism his reply had been favourable.
She'd given it a lot of thought but she didn't know what to make of Mr Bingley's friend.