First Impressions (1 & 2)
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Title: First Impressions (1/13, 2/13)
Fanverse: First Impressions
Blurb: A reimagining of Pride and Prejudice: how would the story have gone if Darcy were a woman and Elizabeth were a man?
Pairings/warnings/assorted notes: Darcy/Elizabeth, Jane/Bingley, others; genderswap!
Length: 36,470 words (thirteen chapters; finished)
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Chapter One
Henry Bennet and Charlotte Lucas had been inseparable companions as children, and at twenty-five and twenty-seven respectively, were as near friends as two young, unmarried people could be. If she had ever expected anything more from him, she never gave any hint of it. Even the indefatigable Lucases had more or less given up hope, though Lady Lucas still dropped hints she considered subtle.
In fact, though Charlotte would have gladly married him had he asked, her affection for him was purely sororal. She was probably the only girl within five miles of Meryton who could meet his laughing dark eyes without flushing, losing the ability to speak, or insulting the whole room.
That changed when Mr Bingley, the new tenant of Netherfield, arrived at an assembly in Meryton. He brought with him no less than three young ladies who were perfectly indifferent to Henry Bennet. Two of these were Mr Bingley's sisters, one married, one single, and both far too convinced of their own importance to notice the heir of a minor country squire.
The third, a Miss Darcy, seemed to be Miss Bingley's particular friend. She initially drew the attention of the room by her tall, womanly figure, lovely features, aristocratic appearance, and the rumour that she was heiress to a vast fortune.
"Ten thousand pounds a year," Mrs Bennet and Lady Lucas whispered to one another in reverential tones, and prodded their sons in her direction. However, she danced only with Mr Hurst and Mr Bingley before declining all offers - and then, nothing could save her from having a most forbidding countenance, and being wholly unworthy of their offspring. She was the proudest, most disagreeable girl in the world, and everybody hoped she would never come there again.
Mrs Bennet, however, harboured a greater resentment than most, for Miss Darcy had particularly slighted her son.
Henry Bennet had been much in demand the whole evening. He attributed it more to the scarcity of gentlemen than his own charms, but regardless of the cause, he was exhausted. During a pause in the dancing, he collapsed into a chair, ignoring the hubbub around him.
"- Bennet," said Mr Bingley. Henry's eyes flew open. It seemed that Miss Darcy's perambulations had brought her, and then Mr Bingley, into his general vicinity. "But she has a handsome brother, sitting down just behind you. I daresay he is very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you; I am sure he would be only too glad to ask for your hand in the dance."
Henry considered her profile and decided this probably would have been true, two hours before. Apparently Bingley had been far too absorbed with his own partners to observe that his guest had already rejected a half-dozen offers.
"Who do you mean?" Miss Darcy glanced behind her for a moment, meeting his eyes without a trace of demureness. Then she turned back to her companion and said coldly, "He is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humour at present to dance with anyone. I have already said so to several young men."
"Oh! forgive me," he said, flushing - either at her incivility, or his error. "I did not notice."
Miss Darcy permitted herself an icy smile. "I had apprehended as much. So you had better return to your partner, and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me."
He hesitated, then bowed and followed her advice. Miss Darcy wandered in a different direction, and Henry, surprised and amused, was left with no very cordial feelings towards her. He was too well-bred to speak of a lady to other young men, but he told the story with great spirit amongst his own family.
"Only tolerable, eh?" said Mr Bennet, as Henry set up the chessboard.
"Apparently so, sir. Miss Bingley, however, condescended to dance with me, so my vanity is not altogether destroyed."
"Is the lady much like her brother?"
"Not in disposition," said Henry. "There is a very great resemblance in person; if not, I would think him an orphan her parents discovered on the doorstep. I assure you, I more than felt the compliment of her hand."
Mr Bennet laughed. "Well, she appears to be have better taste than her friend."
"Yes." Henry suppressed a frown. "Unfortunately, she has even less wit. I do not know if I have ever heard anyone use so many words to say so little. Miss Darcy's ideas are repulsive, but she certainly succeeded in communicating them."
The rest of the evening he spent talking with Jane, whose caution in speaking of Mr Bingley gave way when they were alone. As Henry could hardly participate in her raptures, he nodded at the appropriate moments and limited himself to a few satirical asides. However, he could not agree when her approbation extended to the man's sisters.
"Their manners are not equal to his," said he.
She hesitated, looking distressed. "Certainly not, at first," she allowed, "but they are very pleasing women when you converse with them."
"I conversed with Miss Bingley for half an hour," said Henry, unconvinced, and restrained himself from adding, and I would be quite happy to never do so again. "However, she may improve on further acquaintance."
Jane smiled.
In fact, Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley could be excellent company, when they were in good spirits, and considered the effort worthwhile. They were handsome as well, with polished manners and twenty thousand pounds apiece. They preferred to remember that their father had come from a genteel Yorkshire family, and to forget that he had been the youngest of six sons, and inherited his fortune from a godfather in trade. It was still the greatest regret of their lives that they could not drop casual references to "our brother Bingley's estate" into conversation.
Their father's trust had ensured that they were educated at a distinguished private seminary in town, where they had first become acquainted with Miss Darcy.
The young Miss Darcy did not deign to associate with anyone beyond a coterie of her own connections, bound together by ties so incomprehensibly convoluted that no outsider could hope to decipher them. Even the Bingley sisters, ambitious and often impudent with it, had not quite aspired to acceptance by the likes of Diana Howard and Catherine Darcy.
Nevertheless, the relationship, such as it was, stood Miss Bingley in good stead. Several years later, she found that her brother had been introduced to Miss Darcy - and the lady not only condescended to remember Miss Bingley's existence, but seemed delighted to discover the connection.
Miss Bingley, of course, was perfectly amenable to furthering their acquaintance; and after a year and a half, had more than enough confidence in their intimacy to invite her to stay at Netherfield.
The friendship between the two girls was, nevertheless, a very peculiar one. When it came down to it, Miss Bingley knew only that her friend disliked dancing and playing the pianoforte, but sang very well; that she had inherited a vast fortune under certain conditions, and spent more of it on her library than her jewels; and that one of Miss Darcy's grandfathers had been a great statesman, the other an earl.
Miss Darcy's more extensive understanding of Miss Bingley was due not to greater interest, but simply greater abilities. Miss Bingley was not deficient by any means - but Miss Darcy was clever. Even had she wished to, she could not have failed to see what her friend was.
However, Miss Bingley's follies amused her; moreover, the easiness, openness, and ductility of Mr Bingley's temper had endeared him to her from the first. Miss Darcy did not love him, but she was very fond of him, and had long taken all the interest in him that his own sisters could feel. Inveterate meddler that she was, Miss Darcy considered Miss Bingley's company a small price to pay for the privilege of managing her brother.
For his part, Mr Bingley had a very high regard for Miss Darcy's abilities and judgment; whatever he might have initially thought, he now considered her as another, elder sister, and rather a more congenial one than those Nature had chosen to bestow upon him.
When they returned home, he said heartily:
"I have never met with pleasanter people, or prettier girls, in my life! Everybody was most kind and attentive to me, there was no formality - no stiffness - "
His sisters stared at him. Mr Hurst only looked indifferent.
"No," Miss Darcy said, "there certainly was not."
"I soon felt acquainted with the whole room," he persisted, "and I cannot conceive of an angel more beautiful than the eldest Miss Bennet."
Miss Bingley's mouth twitched. "What of Miss Grey? Or Lady Diana Howard? Or Miss D -"
"I," said Miss Darcy coolly, "saw a crowd of people without fashion or beauty, from whom I received no attention or pleasure, and in whom I felt not the slightest interest. Miss Bennet is handsome, but she smiles too much. I do not believe her expression changed the whole night."
"I am sure it did not," Miss Bingley said, "but nevertheless, she is a sweet girl."
Mrs Hurst added, "I quite like and admire her. We would not object to knowing more of her, at least - would we, Caroline?"
"Not at all." Mr Bingley smiled.
Chapter Two
Naturally, the neighbourhood knew about the whole affair within a few hours, laughed with Henry, and disliked Miss Darcy more than ever.
Only Jane Bennet and Charlotte Lucas had anything to say in her defence.
"Miss Bingley told me," said Jane, "that she never speaks much, except among her intimate acquaintance. With them she is remarkably agreeable."
Mrs Bennet loudly contested this, with all the indignation and sense at her command. Poor Mrs Long had been forced to endure an half-hour of silence; if Miss Darcy could be congenial company among her own friends, then she would have been so to a perfect stranger. Agreeable, forsooth!
"I do not mind her not talking to Mrs Long," Charlotte said, "but I wish she had danced with Harry."
Mrs Bennet sniffed. "If I were you, Hal, I would not dance with her even if I could."
"I believe, ma'am," said Henry, smiling, "I may safely promise you that I shall never dance with her."
His promise was endangered within less than a week of giving it. Two or three days after the assembly at Meryton, Henry accompanied his mother and sisters to a dinner-party at Haye Park.
The neighbourhood's conversation was never of a very high calibre, but it was particularly inane on that occasion; and, fond though he was of society, Henry felt a very strong temptation to cover his ears, or at the very least light the tablecloth on fire.
Instead he took advantage of the earliest opportunity to escape, thanking the vacuous girl he had somehow been persuaded into dancing with, and hurrying toward Miss Lucas. She did not flirt and often wanted partners, but they had not retained their childhood friendship for nothing.
Much to his surprise, he found her deep in conversation with another young woman. Henry had rarely seen her so animated, and hesitated, but not quickly enough.
"Mr Bennet!" said Miss Lucas, looking inordinately pleased.
"Miss Lucas." He glanced at her companion, and his surprise hurtled toward utter astonishment. The other lady - the lady with whom she had been so earnestly speaking - was Miss Darcy.
Miss Lucas' smile was more than a little mischievous. "I do not believe you have been introduced to Miss Darcy? - Miss Darcy, this is Mr Henry Bennet. Our mothers are intimate friends, and we were all brought up together. I believe you have met his eldest sister?"
"It is a pleasure," Miss Darcy said indifferently.
"Oh, the honour is all mine," said Henry.
Miss Lucas looked down modestly. "I believe the next set is about to begin, Mr Bennet. I do hope you will grace some young lady or other with the pleasure of your company?"
Nearly everybody was already lining up; Miss Darcy must have noticed as well, because she assumed a martyred expression. Henry was immediately determined that nothing would prevail upon him to ask for her hand.
"Of course I will," said Henry, "if you will dance with me, Miss Lucas."
Charlotte blinked. "Oh. Yes, thank you. Unless -" She turned to her companion, but Miss Darcy excused herself with very evident relief.
It was her ill luck that her perambulations took her directly past Sir William Lucas. "My dear Miss Darcy!" he boomed.
She almost jumped out of her skin. "Sir William," she said with a very shallow nod, and looked about for escape.
"I hope you are not being neglected?"
"Not at all," said Miss Darcy weakly, but he was already searching the room for eligible partners. "I - I was too preoccupied by my conversation with your daughter to care about a partner."
Sir William returned his gaze to her. "Charlotte, eh? Well, that's very kind of you - very kind of you, indeed."
Miss Darcy did not attempt to understand him. "She is dancing with Mr Henry Bennet now," she said. "I apprehend that they are friends, of a sort."
"Oh! yes - Lady Lucas and Mrs Bennet are thick as thieves. Now there's one who would be a feather in your cap."
Her lip curled. "I beg your pardon?"
"You could do much worse: Harry will have a very pretty property one day, and I daresay he's as fine a young man as you'll find anywhere."
Miss Darcy was too well-bred to tell him what she thought of this - but her expression of polite incredulity spoke for her. She saw little worthy of admiration in Henry Bennet, or even of interest - so little, indeed, that she had but the faintest memory of the incident at the ball, and none of the young man in question. She certainly did not recognise him in the interloper who had ended her conversation with Charlotte Lucas. Miss Lucas was the first good company she had found in this wretched place; she felt only annoyance at the interruption, and as for the man responsible, only looked at him to criticise.
His features, though not plain, were insignificant; none of them could really be called good. His smile was crooked - his figure irregular, his face too thin, his address decidedly unfashionable (almost insolent) - and he talked too much.
This much she had determined within two or three meetings, and this much she told the entire Netherfield party; for all her reserve, she was not shy - least of all about her opinions, which she habitually aired with all the subtlety that might be expected of her forthright nature.
Therefore, when she discovered that she had been mistaken in her initial judgment, it was more than a surprise, it was a mortification.
His figure, though light, was pleasingly tall; there was an elasticity about his walk that she admired; and in his eyes, which were a fine dark grey, she saw such intelligence and animation as to transform his whole countenance. His lively manners might not be quite those of the fashionable world, but despite herself, Miss Darcy was caught by their ease and spirit.
Henry himself was entirely ignorant of all this. He only knew that she had not been agreeable to anyone, and only cared that she had not thought him good enough to dance with. Over the next fortnight, however, he could not help but observe that Charlotte Lucas plainly did not share his antipathy.
The two girls seemed almost as inseparable as Jane and Mr Bingley, their heads constantly bent together over embroidery or essays or even novels. Henry admired them as a man of discernment, and he knew that Charlotte considered them a harmless pleasure; but he would not have expected Miss Darcy's tastes to extend to epic poetry, let alone novels. He certainly had not expected to find her laughing over Camilla with Charlotte Lucas.
Miss Darcy felt equal bemusement at her own discoveries, and considerably greater curiosity - or at least more consciousness of it. She could not bring herself to speak to him directly, but she hovered in Henry's general vicinity, attending to his conversations.
On one occasion, a large party at Lucas Lodge, he finally turned to Charlotte and said, "What does Miss Darcy mean, by listening to my conversation with Colonel Forster?"
"I cannot say," she said, but a smile quirked at the corners of her mouth.
At another time, Henry might have assumed he was the object of some feminine joke. Since Miss Darcy was clearly incapable of such a thing, he could only watch in some bewilderment as she drifted toward them.
"Naturally, you will never mention it to her," said Charlotte.
Then, of course, he was obliged to. Henry, his most charming smile in place, said, "Did you not think, Miss Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I asked Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?"
"With great energy," said Miss Darcy repressively.
"You will have even more opportunity in a moment," Miss Lucas told him. "I am going to open the instrument, and you know what follows."
Miss Darcy's eyes widened. "I did not know you played. Do you do it well?"
"Magnificently," said Henry.
Charlotte glanced from one to the other, then said, "Perhaps you could sing with him, Catherine. It would be a delightful performance, I am sure." "Oh! no. I never sing in public." Henry went to amuse the company at the pianoforte, Charlotte to attend to her father's guests. Miss Darcy evaded Sir William's ham-handed hospitality, but after only a few minutes' contented solitude, she was accosted by Miss Bingley.
"I can guess the subject of your reverie."
"I should imagine not." Miss Darcy's mouth curled into a smile - a smile which Henry Bennet, whatever the deficiencies of his quick, narrow judgment, would have understood and which Miss Bingley did not.
"You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner - in such society; and indeed, I am quite of your opinion."
Since Miss Bingley always shared her opinions, no matter how ludicrous, Miss Darcy was not quite as overwhelmed by this revelation as the other lady hoped.
"I was never more annoyed! The insipidity and yet the noise; the nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all these people!"
Quite, thought Miss Darcy.
"What I would give to hear your strictures on them!"
"Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you," Miss Darcy said, her smile becoming very sweet. "My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a handsome man can bestow."
Miss Bingley threw a meaningful glance at her brother. "My dear," she said, satisfaction pervading every word, "you must tell me which charming gentleman has the credit of inspiring such reflections! I quite long to know."
Seized by an impulse of mischief, Miss Darcy replied carelessly: "Mr Henry Bennet."
She had not, of course, intended to acknowledge her humiliating mistake - but Miss Bingley was really very provoking sometimes.
"Mr - Henry - Bennet!" repeated Miss Bingley. "I am all astonishment! How long has he been such a favourite? - and pray, when am I wish you joy?"
"That is exactly the question I expected you to ask." Miss Darcy's lips thinned. "Your imagination is as rapid as most ladies'. You all jump from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy."
"You are severe upon our sex," Miss Bingley said, then laughed. "Nay, if you are so serious about it, I shall consider the matter as absolutely settled. You will have a charming mother-in-law, indeed; shall you all live at Longbourn together? No - she will be always at Pemberley with you."
Miss Darcy listened to her with perfect indifference, which silenced her alarm, and encouraged her to continue in like manner until the end of the evening.
Henry observed their departure with mixed relief and bewilderment. While Miss Bingley called Jane "a dear creature," kissing her cheeks and making very dramatic and very insincere declarations of eternal devotion, Miss Darcy and Miss Lucas bade their own farewells, pressing each others' hands with quiet affection. He tried to conceal his continued astonishment, but not quickly enough.
"Poor Harry!" said Charlotte, smiling. "It must look very strange to you."
"Well, yes."
"We are very different; at least in some respects. I am not sure how it is that we always find something to talk about; I certainly do not know why she tolerates my company."
"It - seems more than tolerance," said Henry, "but I was not thinking about that. I know I do not have the right - I would not dictate your friendships to you, even were I in a position to do so. Yet, as your friend, I must admit to some concern over the whole affair. What enjoyment can there be in her company, that would be worth the effort of a friendship that cannot last more than a few months?"
"I like to hear her talk," said Charlotte, shrugging. "She entertains me; and she is so extremely pretty, that I have great pleasure in looking at her."
Even Henry had to acknowledge that Miss Darcy was very beautiful and very articulate; and with this much, however little basis for friendship it seemed to him, he was forced to be content.
Title: First Impressions (1/13, 2/13)
Fanverse: First Impressions
Blurb: A reimagining of Pride and Prejudice: how would the story have gone if Darcy were a woman and Elizabeth were a man?
Pairings/warnings/assorted notes: Darcy/Elizabeth, Jane/Bingley, others; genderswap!
Length: 36,470 words (thirteen chapters; finished)
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Chapter One
Henry Bennet and Charlotte Lucas had been inseparable companions as children, and at twenty-five and twenty-seven respectively, were as near friends as two young, unmarried people could be. If she had ever expected anything more from him, she never gave any hint of it. Even the indefatigable Lucases had more or less given up hope, though Lady Lucas still dropped hints she considered subtle.
In fact, though Charlotte would have gladly married him had he asked, her affection for him was purely sororal. She was probably the only girl within five miles of Meryton who could meet his laughing dark eyes without flushing, losing the ability to speak, or insulting the whole room.
That changed when Mr Bingley, the new tenant of Netherfield, arrived at an assembly in Meryton. He brought with him no less than three young ladies who were perfectly indifferent to Henry Bennet. Two of these were Mr Bingley's sisters, one married, one single, and both far too convinced of their own importance to notice the heir of a minor country squire.
The third, a Miss Darcy, seemed to be Miss Bingley's particular friend. She initially drew the attention of the room by her tall, womanly figure, lovely features, aristocratic appearance, and the rumour that she was heiress to a vast fortune.
"Ten thousand pounds a year," Mrs Bennet and Lady Lucas whispered to one another in reverential tones, and prodded their sons in her direction. However, she danced only with Mr Hurst and Mr Bingley before declining all offers - and then, nothing could save her from having a most forbidding countenance, and being wholly unworthy of their offspring. She was the proudest, most disagreeable girl in the world, and everybody hoped she would never come there again.
Mrs Bennet, however, harboured a greater resentment than most, for Miss Darcy had particularly slighted her son.
Henry Bennet had been much in demand the whole evening. He attributed it more to the scarcity of gentlemen than his own charms, but regardless of the cause, he was exhausted. During a pause in the dancing, he collapsed into a chair, ignoring the hubbub around him.
"- Bennet," said Mr Bingley. Henry's eyes flew open. It seemed that Miss Darcy's perambulations had brought her, and then Mr Bingley, into his general vicinity. "But she has a handsome brother, sitting down just behind you. I daresay he is very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you; I am sure he would be only too glad to ask for your hand in the dance."
Henry considered her profile and decided this probably would have been true, two hours before. Apparently Bingley had been far too absorbed with his own partners to observe that his guest had already rejected a half-dozen offers.
"Who do you mean?" Miss Darcy glanced behind her for a moment, meeting his eyes without a trace of demureness. Then she turned back to her companion and said coldly, "He is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humour at present to dance with anyone. I have already said so to several young men."
"Oh! forgive me," he said, flushing - either at her incivility, or his error. "I did not notice."
Miss Darcy permitted herself an icy smile. "I had apprehended as much. So you had better return to your partner, and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me."
He hesitated, then bowed and followed her advice. Miss Darcy wandered in a different direction, and Henry, surprised and amused, was left with no very cordial feelings towards her. He was too well-bred to speak of a lady to other young men, but he told the story with great spirit amongst his own family.
"Only tolerable, eh?" said Mr Bennet, as Henry set up the chessboard.
"Apparently so, sir. Miss Bingley, however, condescended to dance with me, so my vanity is not altogether destroyed."
"Is the lady much like her brother?"
"Not in disposition," said Henry. "There is a very great resemblance in person; if not, I would think him an orphan her parents discovered on the doorstep. I assure you, I more than felt the compliment of her hand."
Mr Bennet laughed. "Well, she appears to be have better taste than her friend."
"Yes." Henry suppressed a frown. "Unfortunately, she has even less wit. I do not know if I have ever heard anyone use so many words to say so little. Miss Darcy's ideas are repulsive, but she certainly succeeded in communicating them."
The rest of the evening he spent talking with Jane, whose caution in speaking of Mr Bingley gave way when they were alone. As Henry could hardly participate in her raptures, he nodded at the appropriate moments and limited himself to a few satirical asides. However, he could not agree when her approbation extended to the man's sisters.
"Their manners are not equal to his," said he.
She hesitated, looking distressed. "Certainly not, at first," she allowed, "but they are very pleasing women when you converse with them."
"I conversed with Miss Bingley for half an hour," said Henry, unconvinced, and restrained himself from adding, and I would be quite happy to never do so again. "However, she may improve on further acquaintance."
Jane smiled.
In fact, Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley could be excellent company, when they were in good spirits, and considered the effort worthwhile. They were handsome as well, with polished manners and twenty thousand pounds apiece. They preferred to remember that their father had come from a genteel Yorkshire family, and to forget that he had been the youngest of six sons, and inherited his fortune from a godfather in trade. It was still the greatest regret of their lives that they could not drop casual references to "our brother Bingley's estate" into conversation.
Their father's trust had ensured that they were educated at a distinguished private seminary in town, where they had first become acquainted with Miss Darcy.
The young Miss Darcy did not deign to associate with anyone beyond a coterie of her own connections, bound together by ties so incomprehensibly convoluted that no outsider could hope to decipher them. Even the Bingley sisters, ambitious and often impudent with it, had not quite aspired to acceptance by the likes of Diana Howard and Catherine Darcy.
Nevertheless, the relationship, such as it was, stood Miss Bingley in good stead. Several years later, she found that her brother had been introduced to Miss Darcy - and the lady not only condescended to remember Miss Bingley's existence, but seemed delighted to discover the connection.
Miss Bingley, of course, was perfectly amenable to furthering their acquaintance; and after a year and a half, had more than enough confidence in their intimacy to invite her to stay at Netherfield.
The friendship between the two girls was, nevertheless, a very peculiar one. When it came down to it, Miss Bingley knew only that her friend disliked dancing and playing the pianoforte, but sang very well; that she had inherited a vast fortune under certain conditions, and spent more of it on her library than her jewels; and that one of Miss Darcy's grandfathers had been a great statesman, the other an earl.
Miss Darcy's more extensive understanding of Miss Bingley was due not to greater interest, but simply greater abilities. Miss Bingley was not deficient by any means - but Miss Darcy was clever. Even had she wished to, she could not have failed to see what her friend was.
However, Miss Bingley's follies amused her; moreover, the easiness, openness, and ductility of Mr Bingley's temper had endeared him to her from the first. Miss Darcy did not love him, but she was very fond of him, and had long taken all the interest in him that his own sisters could feel. Inveterate meddler that she was, Miss Darcy considered Miss Bingley's company a small price to pay for the privilege of managing her brother.
For his part, Mr Bingley had a very high regard for Miss Darcy's abilities and judgment; whatever he might have initially thought, he now considered her as another, elder sister, and rather a more congenial one than those Nature had chosen to bestow upon him.
When they returned home, he said heartily:
"I have never met with pleasanter people, or prettier girls, in my life! Everybody was most kind and attentive to me, there was no formality - no stiffness - "
His sisters stared at him. Mr Hurst only looked indifferent.
"No," Miss Darcy said, "there certainly was not."
"I soon felt acquainted with the whole room," he persisted, "and I cannot conceive of an angel more beautiful than the eldest Miss Bennet."
Miss Bingley's mouth twitched. "What of Miss Grey? Or Lady Diana Howard? Or Miss D -"
"I," said Miss Darcy coolly, "saw a crowd of people without fashion or beauty, from whom I received no attention or pleasure, and in whom I felt not the slightest interest. Miss Bennet is handsome, but she smiles too much. I do not believe her expression changed the whole night."
"I am sure it did not," Miss Bingley said, "but nevertheless, she is a sweet girl."
Mrs Hurst added, "I quite like and admire her. We would not object to knowing more of her, at least - would we, Caroline?"
"Not at all." Mr Bingley smiled.
Chapter Two
Naturally, the neighbourhood knew about the whole affair within a few hours, laughed with Henry, and disliked Miss Darcy more than ever.
Only Jane Bennet and Charlotte Lucas had anything to say in her defence.
"Miss Bingley told me," said Jane, "that she never speaks much, except among her intimate acquaintance. With them she is remarkably agreeable."
Mrs Bennet loudly contested this, with all the indignation and sense at her command. Poor Mrs Long had been forced to endure an half-hour of silence; if Miss Darcy could be congenial company among her own friends, then she would have been so to a perfect stranger. Agreeable, forsooth!
"I do not mind her not talking to Mrs Long," Charlotte said, "but I wish she had danced with Harry."
Mrs Bennet sniffed. "If I were you, Hal, I would not dance with her even if I could."
"I believe, ma'am," said Henry, smiling, "I may safely promise you that I shall never dance with her."
His promise was endangered within less than a week of giving it. Two or three days after the assembly at Meryton, Henry accompanied his mother and sisters to a dinner-party at Haye Park.
The neighbourhood's conversation was never of a very high calibre, but it was particularly inane on that occasion; and, fond though he was of society, Henry felt a very strong temptation to cover his ears, or at the very least light the tablecloth on fire.
Instead he took advantage of the earliest opportunity to escape, thanking the vacuous girl he had somehow been persuaded into dancing with, and hurrying toward Miss Lucas. She did not flirt and often wanted partners, but they had not retained their childhood friendship for nothing.
Much to his surprise, he found her deep in conversation with another young woman. Henry had rarely seen her so animated, and hesitated, but not quickly enough.
"Mr Bennet!" said Miss Lucas, looking inordinately pleased.
"Miss Lucas." He glanced at her companion, and his surprise hurtled toward utter astonishment. The other lady - the lady with whom she had been so earnestly speaking - was Miss Darcy.
Miss Lucas' smile was more than a little mischievous. "I do not believe you have been introduced to Miss Darcy? - Miss Darcy, this is Mr Henry Bennet. Our mothers are intimate friends, and we were all brought up together. I believe you have met his eldest sister?"
"It is a pleasure," Miss Darcy said indifferently.
"Oh, the honour is all mine," said Henry.
Miss Lucas looked down modestly. "I believe the next set is about to begin, Mr Bennet. I do hope you will grace some young lady or other with the pleasure of your company?"
Nearly everybody was already lining up; Miss Darcy must have noticed as well, because she assumed a martyred expression. Henry was immediately determined that nothing would prevail upon him to ask for her hand.
"Of course I will," said Henry, "if you will dance with me, Miss Lucas."
Charlotte blinked. "Oh. Yes, thank you. Unless -" She turned to her companion, but Miss Darcy excused herself with very evident relief.
It was her ill luck that her perambulations took her directly past Sir William Lucas. "My dear Miss Darcy!" he boomed.
She almost jumped out of her skin. "Sir William," she said with a very shallow nod, and looked about for escape.
"I hope you are not being neglected?"
"Not at all," said Miss Darcy weakly, but he was already searching the room for eligible partners. "I - I was too preoccupied by my conversation with your daughter to care about a partner."
Sir William returned his gaze to her. "Charlotte, eh? Well, that's very kind of you - very kind of you, indeed."
Miss Darcy did not attempt to understand him. "She is dancing with Mr Henry Bennet now," she said. "I apprehend that they are friends, of a sort."
"Oh! yes - Lady Lucas and Mrs Bennet are thick as thieves. Now there's one who would be a feather in your cap."
Her lip curled. "I beg your pardon?"
"You could do much worse: Harry will have a very pretty property one day, and I daresay he's as fine a young man as you'll find anywhere."
Miss Darcy was too well-bred to tell him what she thought of this - but her expression of polite incredulity spoke for her. She saw little worthy of admiration in Henry Bennet, or even of interest - so little, indeed, that she had but the faintest memory of the incident at the ball, and none of the young man in question. She certainly did not recognise him in the interloper who had ended her conversation with Charlotte Lucas. Miss Lucas was the first good company she had found in this wretched place; she felt only annoyance at the interruption, and as for the man responsible, only looked at him to criticise.
His features, though not plain, were insignificant; none of them could really be called good. His smile was crooked - his figure irregular, his face too thin, his address decidedly unfashionable (almost insolent) - and he talked too much.
This much she had determined within two or three meetings, and this much she told the entire Netherfield party; for all her reserve, she was not shy - least of all about her opinions, which she habitually aired with all the subtlety that might be expected of her forthright nature.
Therefore, when she discovered that she had been mistaken in her initial judgment, it was more than a surprise, it was a mortification.
His figure, though light, was pleasingly tall; there was an elasticity about his walk that she admired; and in his eyes, which were a fine dark grey, she saw such intelligence and animation as to transform his whole countenance. His lively manners might not be quite those of the fashionable world, but despite herself, Miss Darcy was caught by their ease and spirit.
Henry himself was entirely ignorant of all this. He only knew that she had not been agreeable to anyone, and only cared that she had not thought him good enough to dance with. Over the next fortnight, however, he could not help but observe that Charlotte Lucas plainly did not share his antipathy.
The two girls seemed almost as inseparable as Jane and Mr Bingley, their heads constantly bent together over embroidery or essays or even novels. Henry admired them as a man of discernment, and he knew that Charlotte considered them a harmless pleasure; but he would not have expected Miss Darcy's tastes to extend to epic poetry, let alone novels. He certainly had not expected to find her laughing over Camilla with Charlotte Lucas.
Miss Darcy felt equal bemusement at her own discoveries, and considerably greater curiosity - or at least more consciousness of it. She could not bring herself to speak to him directly, but she hovered in Henry's general vicinity, attending to his conversations.
On one occasion, a large party at Lucas Lodge, he finally turned to Charlotte and said, "What does Miss Darcy mean, by listening to my conversation with Colonel Forster?"
"I cannot say," she said, but a smile quirked at the corners of her mouth.
At another time, Henry might have assumed he was the object of some feminine joke. Since Miss Darcy was clearly incapable of such a thing, he could only watch in some bewilderment as she drifted toward them.
"Naturally, you will never mention it to her," said Charlotte.
Then, of course, he was obliged to. Henry, his most charming smile in place, said, "Did you not think, Miss Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I asked Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?"
"With great energy," said Miss Darcy repressively.
"You will have even more opportunity in a moment," Miss Lucas told him. "I am going to open the instrument, and you know what follows."
Miss Darcy's eyes widened. "I did not know you played. Do you do it well?"
"Magnificently," said Henry.
Charlotte glanced from one to the other, then said, "Perhaps you could sing with him, Catherine. It would be a delightful performance, I am sure." "Oh! no. I never sing in public." Henry went to amuse the company at the pianoforte, Charlotte to attend to her father's guests. Miss Darcy evaded Sir William's ham-handed hospitality, but after only a few minutes' contented solitude, she was accosted by Miss Bingley.
"I can guess the subject of your reverie."
"I should imagine not." Miss Darcy's mouth curled into a smile - a smile which Henry Bennet, whatever the deficiencies of his quick, narrow judgment, would have understood and which Miss Bingley did not.
"You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner - in such society; and indeed, I am quite of your opinion."
Since Miss Bingley always shared her opinions, no matter how ludicrous, Miss Darcy was not quite as overwhelmed by this revelation as the other lady hoped.
"I was never more annoyed! The insipidity and yet the noise; the nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all these people!"
Quite, thought Miss Darcy.
"What I would give to hear your strictures on them!"
"Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you," Miss Darcy said, her smile becoming very sweet. "My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a handsome man can bestow."
Miss Bingley threw a meaningful glance at her brother. "My dear," she said, satisfaction pervading every word, "you must tell me which charming gentleman has the credit of inspiring such reflections! I quite long to know."
Seized by an impulse of mischief, Miss Darcy replied carelessly: "Mr Henry Bennet."
She had not, of course, intended to acknowledge her humiliating mistake - but Miss Bingley was really very provoking sometimes.
"Mr - Henry - Bennet!" repeated Miss Bingley. "I am all astonishment! How long has he been such a favourite? - and pray, when am I wish you joy?"
"That is exactly the question I expected you to ask." Miss Darcy's lips thinned. "Your imagination is as rapid as most ladies'. You all jump from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy."
"You are severe upon our sex," Miss Bingley said, then laughed. "Nay, if you are so serious about it, I shall consider the matter as absolutely settled. You will have a charming mother-in-law, indeed; shall you all live at Longbourn together? No - she will be always at Pemberley with you."
Miss Darcy listened to her with perfect indifference, which silenced her alarm, and encouraged her to continue in like manner until the end of the evening.
Henry observed their departure with mixed relief and bewilderment. While Miss Bingley called Jane "a dear creature," kissing her cheeks and making very dramatic and very insincere declarations of eternal devotion, Miss Darcy and Miss Lucas bade their own farewells, pressing each others' hands with quiet affection. He tried to conceal his continued astonishment, but not quickly enough.
"Poor Harry!" said Charlotte, smiling. "It must look very strange to you."
"Well, yes."
"We are very different; at least in some respects. I am not sure how it is that we always find something to talk about; I certainly do not know why she tolerates my company."
"It - seems more than tolerance," said Henry, "but I was not thinking about that. I know I do not have the right - I would not dictate your friendships to you, even were I in a position to do so. Yet, as your friend, I must admit to some concern over the whole affair. What enjoyment can there be in her company, that would be worth the effort of a friendship that cannot last more than a few months?"
"I like to hear her talk," said Charlotte, shrugging. "She entertains me; and she is so extremely pretty, that I have great pleasure in looking at her."
Even Henry had to acknowledge that Miss Darcy was very beautiful and very articulate; and with this much, however little basis for friendship it seemed to him, he was forced to be content.