Read Online One Thread Pulled: The Dance With Mr. Darcy by Diana J Oaks - Free Book Online
Authors: Diana J Oaks
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it?”
“Have you no other pleasures to speak of, Miss Bennet? Surely you play the pianoforte.”
“Aye, and sing too, but for my own pleasure only. My pleasure does not extend to entertaining, for I play ill indeed.”
“Do you hear that brother?” Caroline exclaimed, although looking directly at Darcy. “Miss Eliza plays and sings. I had no idea we were in company with such an accomplished woman.”
Bingley laughed heartily and encouraged Elizabeth to play and sing for them.
“I beg you, no,” Elizabeth said. “I must return to Jane.”
“Nonsense,” said Louisa, catching Caroline's drift, “now you must play for us. It would be so disappointing if you decline.”
Elizabeth looked at her hosts with some dismay. Mr. Bingley was most eager to hear her play, but Caroline and Louisa's taunts did not make her feel cooperative. Mr. Hurst was grumbling about the card game and their lack of attention to it, but it was Mr. Darcy's face that changed her resolve, for written on it was the firm belief that she would not do it. As soon as she saw this, Elizabeth became determined to contradict his belief.
“If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would all be in for a grand experience I assure you. I know that you must all be in the habit of hearing the very best performers, but owing to your perseverance, Miss Bingley, I will teach you a lesson, which is to believe me when I say that I play badly.” Elizabeth gravely glanced at Mr. Darcy, “And you, sir, I entreat you to keep your breath to cool your porridge, and I shall keep mine to swell my song.”
Her performance was pleasing; although by no means perfect, it was far more so than Caroline expected, and after two songs, Caroline thanked Elizabeth for her display , and asked her what book she was reading.
“It is a book from your own library,” Elizabeth replied, without directly answering her question. “I had read my father's copy some years ago, but I find that I am getting more out of it now, for the questions it poses require some reflection to discern my own opinion on the matter.”
Darcy, who had moved to the writing table when Elizabeth was singing, stopped writing, although he did not look up or otherwise acknowledge the conversation.
“And what are these serious questions, might I ask?” Caroline rolled her eyes.
“They tend to the behavior of men, or mankind. Why do men behave in a just manner, or why do they not? Do the stronger elements of society scare the weak into submission, or do men behave justly because it is right for them to do so? Moreover, what of justice alone? Is it a means to an end, or can justice stand alone as a worthwhile aim?” Elizabeth hesitated, seeing that Caroline was not really listening.
“The question that remains to be examined is whether you have, upon reflection, formed an opinion in these matters.” Darcy asked, turning in his seat to look at Elizabeth.
“I have, although I expect that my opinion may be altered in the course of my reading,” Elizabeth answered. “It is a most enlightening book.”
“Miss Bennet, do you paint or draw?” Caroline interrupted.
“Not yet,” Elizabeth replied.
“And what foreign languages do you speak? Are you well versed in French, or Italian?”
“No indeed,” Elizabeth laughed, “I have had far better uses for my time. If I ever occasion to travel, I will learn enough to get by.”
“I believe I must take back what I said earlier, Miss Bennet, about your being an accomplished woman. I have come to believe that you do not deserve the word, for you have paid little attention to those talents and social graces that must accompany a woman of accomplishment.” Caroline said rudely.
“Miss Bingley, are you then, an accomplished woman?” Elizabeth inquired sweetly. “For now that I am beginning to understand the gravity of being so accomplished, I should like to know whose example I am to take in the matter.”
“If I must name an example,”
“Have you no other pleasures to speak of, Miss Bennet? Surely you play the pianoforte.”
“Aye, and sing too, but for my own pleasure only. My pleasure does not extend to entertaining, for I play ill indeed.”
“Do you hear that brother?” Caroline exclaimed, although looking directly at Darcy. “Miss Eliza plays and sings. I had no idea we were in company with such an accomplished woman.”
Bingley laughed heartily and encouraged Elizabeth to play and sing for them.
“I beg you, no,” Elizabeth said. “I must return to Jane.”
“Nonsense,” said Louisa, catching Caroline's drift, “now you must play for us. It would be so disappointing if you decline.”
Elizabeth looked at her hosts with some dismay. Mr. Bingley was most eager to hear her play, but Caroline and Louisa's taunts did not make her feel cooperative. Mr. Hurst was grumbling about the card game and their lack of attention to it, but it was Mr. Darcy's face that changed her resolve, for written on it was the firm belief that she would not do it. As soon as she saw this, Elizabeth became determined to contradict his belief.
“If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would all be in for a grand experience I assure you. I know that you must all be in the habit of hearing the very best performers, but owing to your perseverance, Miss Bingley, I will teach you a lesson, which is to believe me when I say that I play badly.” Elizabeth gravely glanced at Mr. Darcy, “And you, sir, I entreat you to keep your breath to cool your porridge, and I shall keep mine to swell my song.”
Her performance was pleasing; although by no means perfect, it was far more so than Caroline expected, and after two songs, Caroline thanked Elizabeth for her display , and asked her what book she was reading.
“It is a book from your own library,” Elizabeth replied, without directly answering her question. “I had read my father's copy some years ago, but I find that I am getting more out of it now, for the questions it poses require some reflection to discern my own opinion on the matter.”
Darcy, who had moved to the writing table when Elizabeth was singing, stopped writing, although he did not look up or otherwise acknowledge the conversation.
“And what are these serious questions, might I ask?” Caroline rolled her eyes.
“They tend to the behavior of men, or mankind. Why do men behave in a just manner, or why do they not? Do the stronger elements of society scare the weak into submission, or do men behave justly because it is right for them to do so? Moreover, what of justice alone? Is it a means to an end, or can justice stand alone as a worthwhile aim?” Elizabeth hesitated, seeing that Caroline was not really listening.
“The question that remains to be examined is whether you have, upon reflection, formed an opinion in these matters.” Darcy asked, turning in his seat to look at Elizabeth.
“I have, although I expect that my opinion may be altered in the course of my reading,” Elizabeth answered. “It is a most enlightening book.”
“Miss Bennet, do you paint or draw?” Caroline interrupted.
“Not yet,” Elizabeth replied.
“And what foreign languages do you speak? Are you well versed in French, or Italian?”
“No indeed,” Elizabeth laughed, “I have had far better uses for my time. If I ever occasion to travel, I will learn enough to get by.”
“I believe I must take back what I said earlier, Miss Bennet, about your being an accomplished woman. I have come to believe that you do not deserve the word, for you have paid little attention to those talents and social graces that must accompany a woman of accomplishment.” Caroline said rudely.
“Miss Bingley, are you then, an accomplished woman?” Elizabeth inquired sweetly. “For now that I am beginning to understand the gravity of being so accomplished, I should like to know whose example I am to take in the matter.”
“If I must name an example,”
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