Chapter 6

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The gentlemen went shooting and were pleased to find that the game at Netherfield was abundant. They returned at dusk with their proofs of marksmanship, most kills being by Bingley who enjoyed the sport. Hurst had taken a flask of drink with him and gradually became intoxicated enough to shoot a tree.

Bingley and Hurst joined Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst in a game of loo, but as Darcy disliked cards and Miss Elizabeth had not yet left her sister's side, he decided to go to the billard room. He removed his coat and began to play.

After some time, he became aware that someone had entered the room.

Darcy looked from his position to see Miss Elizabeth looking at him.

He wanted to say something, but couldn't think of anything. So he gave her a curt bow.

The lady looked at him for a moment then quickly turned and left.

He stared at where she had stood, silently angry that he had not found anything to say to her.

He vented his anger on the red ball, which fell into the pocket.

When the board was clear, Darcy put away his cue and went to the drawing-room. As soon as he entered, Miss Bingley asked him for his help. Hurst slammed down a card and prevented him from saying any more. He walked to where Miss Elizabeth was sitting, reading a book.

This time, he inquired after her sister. She replied that she was feeling a little better, then returned to her book.

"Do you prefer reading to cards?" asked Hurst, looking up from the game, "that is rather singular."

"Miss Eliza Bennet," said Miss Bingley, "despises cards. She is a great reader and has no pleasure in anything else."

I am sure she takes no pleasure in the misfortunes of others, unlike yourself, thought Darcy as he sat down at the writing table.

"I deserve neither such praise, nor such censure," cried Miss Elizabeth; "I am not a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things."

"In nursing your sister I hope you have pleasure,"said Bingley, "and I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her quite well."

Darcy was surprised at the lady's defense of herself. There were few women who could hold their own in a conversation with Miss Bingley without becoming angered or spiteful, and he admired Miss Elizabeth's ability to do so. He began to write.

'Dear Georgiana,

'I hope this letter finds you well, and I hope you are now more like yourself; after the incident at Ramsgate you were so withdrawn and melancholy.

'I am quite comfortable here at Netherfield, though I admit I do miss our home. The local company . . .'

"And what do you do so secretly, sir?" interrupted Miss Bingley.

"It is no secret. I am writing to my sister," he replied indifferently.

'. . . is bearable, though if I hear Sir Lucas mention St James again, I might do something harmful to him . . . '

"Oh, dear Georgiana! Oh, how I long to see her? Has she grown much since the spring? Is she as tall as me?" asked Miss Bingley.

'. . . Miss Bingley continues her attentions to me, though I would think that I have been obvious in my indifference to her . . .'

"She is now Miss Elizabeth Bennet's height, or a little taller," replied Darcy, hoping that she would hold her tongue.

"And so accomplished," continued Miss Bingley.

Disdain, Agony, Hope, and Love #Wattys2020Where stories live. Discover now