Chapter 3

Mr. Jones came and went after informing them that Mrs. Bennet did not seem ill beyond a strained larynx and that she should try refraining from speaking for at least a day or two to give it time to heal. It was welcome news in more way than one to Elizabeth though she would never say out loud that it would be a pleasure to not fear her mother's tendency to indiscreet pronouncements to wreck Jane's chances with Mr. Bingley. If she had thoughts of Mr. Darcy, she quickly repressed them; there was no point on dwelling on the man. If she could not retain her dislike, she would at least strive for indifference.

Having expressed her relief that her mother was not seriously ill, Elizabeth was unpleasantly surprised to hear that she still intended to go to the ball.

"But, mother, would it not be better to rest and recuperate?" Elizabeth asked.

Mrs. Bennet shook her head vigorously and made it clear by gestures and a hoarse whisper that she could not depend on anyone else to watch out for her daughters' interests, especially not their father. Elizabeth repressed a sigh as she left the room. It would probably have been better if she had gotten Jane to speak to her mother, but Jane was down waiting to bring up the special tea for their mother, and now it probably would not do any good at all as once her mother got an idea in her head it was very difficult to turn her from it. But still when she went down to the kitchen she mentioned it to Jane, who said she would try.

Elizabeth left the kitchen only to see a laughing Lydia rushing by, ribbon in her hand followed by Kitty demanding to have it back.

"La, it suits me better, and you know the officers all prefer me anyway," Lydia said.

"No, they do not! You just flirt with them more," Kitty said as she tried to get her ribbon. "Denny says I am ever so much more agreeable."

"Agreeable is just another word for dull," Lydia said. "You know he does not look at you nearly as much as me." She stuck her tongue out. "And neither does Saunderson, so there."

Probably because she does not act as wild as you, Elizabeth thought with great irritation. While we may be spared our mother's loud voice this evening, I would wish even more that we could be spared Lydia's unrestrained flirtations. Perhaps if mother could not be convinced to stay home, she could be convinced to keep Lydia by her side... to deliver messages. However it seemed improbable that her mother could see any reason to restrain Lydia when she never restrained herself.

Elizabeth entered the music room, trying to shake herself out of her disagreeable mood. Mary was at the piano looking through the music, and Elizabeth was hoping against hope that she was not picking out something that was too elaborate or long.

Mary turned as Elizabeth approached. "How is mother?"

"Well enough to attend the ball, according to her," Elizabeth said. "Apparently, she cannot trust our father to look after our interests. I cannot imagine what she believes she needs to do; however, it is a small mercy that whatever it is will have to be done in silence." She looked around. "Speaking of silence. Has Mr. Collins not come down yet?"

"It seems not," Mary said. "I believe that he was not feeling too well last night and is probably resting so as to be ready for the ball."

Elizabeth waited a moment then said, "Mr. Collins has been singling you out for attention the past few days. While I know we have been glad to let you bear the brunt of his notice, I hope it has not been wearing on you."

"No, it has not," Mary said. "I know he is not the most clever of men, but he can be interesting when he is not trying too hard." She looked at the music on the piano. "It is something I can sympathize with as I think sometimes I try too hard as well."

"I am glad that you are not feeling importuned," Elizabeth said, having felt a sudden guilt at being so pleased to let Mary deal with their cousin, as he was so much more subdued when speaking with her than any other member of the household.

"And what of Mr. Darcy?" Mary asked. "Do you have any expectations of him?"

"Expectations? Of Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth affected a note of incredulity. "No. I have none. I will admit that I have come to think better of him over the past week and hope that if what we hope of his friend comes to pass to be able to get on tolerably with him. But there is nothing more to expect really. He still is not a man who would stoop so far beneath him. Especially not one who would overlook the improprieties of potential in-laws. So, no. Definitely not." She tried not to let on that the thought both hurt and annoyed.

Mary was not fooled by Elizabeth's statement. Being the quiet one, the awkward one, she observed much more than people thought. Even though it never helped her be less awkward in company (she never knew how to respond to people properly), the fact that she was often ignored allowed her to see things other people did not. She had noticed that Mr. Darcy watched Elizabeth quite often and not with the disdain that Elizabeth claimed that it was. She did see the pride, but she did not think it particularly problematic for a man of his position. He seemed a man who took both his position and his responsibilities very seriously, an attitude of which Mary could only approve, and he seemed drawn to Elizabeth's outspoken nature and lively mind, something that was often considered a flaw in her.

While Mary was content to accept the rules and expectations of society however ill she managed to conform to them, she knew that Elizabeth chafed under some of the expectations of what a young woman was supposed to be, and it seemed to Mary that Mr. Darcy despite his pride and aloofness might be a man who could appreciate Elizabeth's stubborn independent temperament. However, she also understood why Elizabeth would not allow herself to hope, as she too was not unaware how their mother's blatant matchmaking and their two youngest sisters' wild unrestrained behavior reflected poorly on them all.

A woman's reputation is no less brittle than it is beautiful. How well she understood that, and how little did Lydia or Kitty. Nor did they seem to understand that their behavior also reflected on their sisters' good breeding and made what was a poor situation for matrimony even worse. Mary had believed it was unlikely that she would ever marry and spent her time trying to prepare herself for the day when she would be forced to become a governess. However, it seemed that she had now found a man who by his future expectation was willing to compensate his family by marrying one of its daughters, and by great good fortune, she found herself not adverse to his company nor he hers.

The fact that he had first been interested in her two eldest sisters did not greatly disturb her as she felt he had started with the idea of seniority without having the least notion of whether they had anything in common. He had tried too hard at the beginning as she told her sister, but after the walk to Meryton and back, once they had truly started talking to one another, he seemed to develop a definite preference for her, one that her mother was quick to agree to once it came to her attention. The mixture of mortification and pleasure that ensued did allow Mary to understand more of Elizabeth's own frustrations, though as a dutiful daughter she tried not to let it appear.

However, now that it appeared that she would have a future as a wife and eventual mistress of Longbourn, she wondered if there were not some way to assist her sisters in their own matches, though naturally without behaving in an unseemly manner. Jane and Mr. Bingley seemed to be doing well enough in a very proper way, but she agreed that Mr. Darcy was in fact most likely to be put off by the behavior of some of their family, and having seen how Mr. Bingley deferred to Mr. Darcy in many ways, though not in sociable ones, she wondered if Mr. Darcy could influence his friend's felicity for good or ill. An idea was forming in Mary's head; this evening, their mother would by the nature of her infirmity not be able to exclaim over any potential matches. Perhaps there could be a way of getting her to keep Lydia by her side.

As Mary had been thinking, Elizabeth had been going through the music on the piano and broke into Mary's thoughts by saying, "If you are concerned about trying too hard, I think you should play this piece. It is not so long as to take time from other young ladies who wish to perform, and you play it by far the best."

"Should I not have more than one song ready?" Mary asked.

"Not for the ball tonight. I am not sure how much time there will be for performing, and it is best to leave your audience pleased and desiring more."

"Are you not planning to perform?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Not if I can help it. I am optimistic that there will be more than enough music from others."

Mary looked at the song Elizabeth had chosen and remembered that Mr. Darcy had seemed quite interested the last time Elizabeth sang. It certainly could not hurt if Elizabeth sang again. "You have a much better singing voice than I do. Perhaps we could perform together."

Elizabeth looked hesitant. "I..."

"Surely it would be the best way to display our family's talents without imposing on others' time," Mary insisted.

Finally, Elizabeth nodded. "If you really wish, though I believe you would do more than well enough on your own."

"Perhaps, but I would prefer it if we performed together," Mary said.

"All right," Elizabeth said.

At that moment, Jane entered the room. Mary and Elizabeth looked at her expectantly.

"Mother drank her tea," Jane said. "Also she is still determined to go with us to the ball."

"We expected no less," Elizabeth said. "But I hope you reminded her of Mr. Jones's strictures."

"Of course, Lizzy," Jane said. "I said we could not possibly enjoy the evening if she took the slightest risk with her voice. She seemed to take it to heart."

"Very clever," Elizabeth said. "She would not want anything to get in the way of you and Mr. Bingley spending time together."

"Or you and Mr. Darcy, if she knew," Mary said.

"There is nothing between me and Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said with frustration. "He is merely Mr. Bingley's friend, and there is nothing more to it. I need to go and..." Her voice trailed off as she tried to think of an excuse but then decided to leave anyway.

Once she was out the door, Jane turned to Mary with a confused air. "Mary, do you really think that Mr. Darcy might be harboring a tender regard for our sister?" Jane asked.

"I would not be so bold, but he has shown an interest in her conversation and has stared at her when he believed no one was watching. And they certainly were quite absorbed in their own conversation on the walk from Meryton and at Longbourn as well as our aunt's party. Did you not notice or were you too absorbed in your own conversation with Mr. Bingley?"

Jane blushed and felt embarrassed to realize that two sisters may have gained suitors practically before her eyes and she missed it due to her own absorption. "I am afraid I have missed too much. But Lizzy seems sure that he can have no intentions."

Mary looked reflective. "It is true that he is above us in wealth. But it is also said that a virtuous woman's price is far above rubies, and our sister's worth cannot be measured in material wealth, if he has wisdom enough to see it. However, his pride might indeed revolt at what he might see as ill-bred behavior, even if his affections are engaged." She sighed. "I would wish us all to be at our best advantage and not lose an opportunity for felicity due to influences beyond our control. Perhaps, if we could find a way to keep Lydia and Kitty in check this evening and perhaps find a way to aid Lizzy with Mr. Darcy. All within the realms of propriety, of course."

"Of course," Jane said. Both sisters sat in silence for a moment. Then Jane spoke, slowly and hesitantly, "I know Mother is going to have a hard time having to be so quiet this evening, and as Lydia is her favorite, perhaps we could encourage Mother to keep Lydia close for much of the evening. I know Lydia will be wild to dance, but even she would have to be somewhat restrained near our mother, would she not?"

"Or her partners, at least," Mary said. "After all they should be gentlemen. It would be difficult I think, but as I do not expect to dance much perhaps I could stay near them both and find some ways to encourage any bit of decorum. But I would wish that mother would see the need herself."

Jane looked thoughtful. "Mr. Darcy is Mr. Bingley's dear friend, and he has a sister close to Lydia's age who is not yet out. If she were to think that Mr. Darcy's disapproval meant something to Mr. Bingley..."

"That would be a challenge as she seems quite set against the gentleman," Mary said. "I believe the only thing that would turn her opinion is if she believed that one of her daughters had a chance with Mr. Darcy, and I do not think that Lizzy would approve of that." She paused. "But you are correct that if she believed that Mr. Bingley might be affected by Mr. Darcy's disdain, she would not risk scaring away Mr. Bingley. But how do we do that?" Mary asked, then stopped as another thought popped in. "Perhaps it is best if we simply encourage her to consider keeping Lydia close as both a comfort and to show her own good breeding to Mr. Bingley and his sisters by having her keep her company."

"I suppose that might work, and Lizzy would be mortified if she believed we spoke to mother about Mr. Darcy and her, especially since she insists there is nothing to tell," Jane said.

"True," Mary said. "And there is not much more we can or possibly should do, but I do hope that this evening ends up memorable in the best possible ways for all of us."

"As do I," Jane said, with a slight smile.

~o~O~o~

When it was finally of an hour for him to be able to break his fast, Darcy descended the stairs to find himself the first to enter the breakfast room, and he was rather relieved by that fact, as he feared that with all the ball preparations taking place that he would find himself in company with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, something he would rather not be faced with after a restless night's sleep. As it was, Darcy was trying to determine the best way to stay out of the way without retiring to his room entirely. He had the thought which he almost immediately repressed of taking a ride in the general direction of Longbourn in the vague hope of "accidentally" meeting with Elizabeth. Of course, what managed to repress the thought was that with the roads still wet and muddy from the rain as well as the ball being that evening that it would be highly unlikely that she would be permitted to take her usual walk. Nevertheless the temptation was still there.

All things considered, he decided that for the nonce retreating to his room and tending to his correspondence would be the best use of his time. After finishing with that, he could revisit the notion of finding something unobtrusive to do. He disliked balls in general, and he even more disliked them when he was a guest in the house in which they were being held, at least when the unofficial hostess was a single young woman determined to draw his attention to every detail of the planning in order to impress him.

His correspondence did not take that long, and he spent some time reading before once again emerging from his room, a vague notion of going to the billiard room where he should be safe from ball preparations as well as Miss Bingley. This actually required some maneuvering as just as he reached the stairs, he heard the voice of Miss Bingley as she harangued the staff.

"No, no, not like that. Everything must be perfect; I intend to show these country people how a proper ball is conducted."

"Caroline, I hardly think that it needs so much attention," he heard Mrs. Hurst say.

"Louisa, there will be those here who are used to only the best, and I certainly intend that this ball will be the epitome of refinement and luxury. Not that I expect that the natives will properly appreciate it, but I will not be shamed by anything less than perfection. My reputation will not stand for it."

"Oh, Caroline..."

Having frozen for a moment after hearing the voices, Darcy finally managed to recall himself and retreated from the scene. Once out of hearing, he paused, a troubling thought trying to fight its way to the surface, but he quickly suppressed it as he finished backtracking to find another route to his destination. It was quite fortunate that he had previously explored the house quite thoroughly so that this proved to be minimally challenging.

When he reached the room, he discovered that his friend was there before him.

"Eager to hide out as well?" Bingley asked as he shut the door on all the activity outside.

"I would not say that," Darcy said.

"Of course, I am not particularly hiding, as my sisters told me to get out of their way," Bingley said as he racked the balls on the table. "I suspect that at least one of them would not say the same to you."

Darcy refused to reply though he felt it was true enough; after all that was the primary reason he was trying to keep out of the way. Even the best of women tended to get to be a bit much to take when a ball is being organized, and despite what they seemed to think of themselves, the Bingley sisters were not the best of women. Especially when he found himself comparing them to Elizabeth, as he did all too often, and he found that Miss Bingley in particular fell further with each comparison.

Once he found Miss Bingley tolerable enough a companion, her biting wit encouraging his own, but of late she had become a cloying nuisance, her barbs no longer amusing, her insults of Elizabeth intolerable, and her increasing attentions irritating at best, as he had thought that she understood that she was in no way considered a potential candidate to become Mrs. Darcy of Pemberley, friendship with her brother notwithstanding. After all, in London, he was rarely the sole object of her attention; in point of fact, she tended to focus far more on other bachelors of a far more likely caliber than himself. Was it that she considered him the only bachelor of worth in the immediate vicinity and thus made him her object of prey? Or was it merely the fact that he openly admired another woman that made her suddenly seek to capture his attention with perceived competition bringing out her latent ambitions? He supposed it did not matter, as the important point was that he had allowed himself to become careless and complacent and more and more disliked the way he seemed to become his worst self in Miss Bingley's presence.

Darcy leaned down over the table with his stick. He took a deep breath and struck the cue ball, sending the racked balls scattering across the green and a few dropping into the pockets. As he walked around the table, easily sinking one shot after another, thoughts of Miss Bingley evaporated from his mind. He could not be discourteous to his hostess but he could minimize his time in her presence. It should be a simple enough matter, almost as simple as a game of billiards.