Much Ado About Many Things by Sophie Lynbrook

Much Ado About Many Things by Sophie Lynbrook

Author:Sophie Lynbrook [Lynbrook, Sophie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-26T04:00:00+00:00


I desire you in friendship, and I will one way or other make you amends.

the merry wives of windsor, ACT iiI, SCENE I

Good heavens, Elizabeth thought. I did not expect Miss Bingley to be this bad. She should have stuck to tragedy. And not the romantic kind. With that voice and manner, I could imagine her as Lady Macbeth, goading her husband to murder the king.

I hope that Mr. Darcy does not marry her. He does not deserve to have a wife who could at any moment say, ‘Here, husband, take this dagger and go and kill somebody with it, so that we can increase our consequence in the world.’

Oh, think of something else. I must not burst out laughing in the middle of her speech. I must keep a straight face. I must stop looking as she whirls her arms about, or else I shall be utterly undone.

It shall be my turn in a moment. Just a few lines, but I hope to say them well. And a few dance steps. Thank goodness Mr. Wickham is not playing Balthazar. That would have been dreadfully awkward.

As it is, I fear that his singling me out this morning must have looked very particular. Especially after I spoke to him so much yesterday as well. I hope nobody thinks that I am flirting with him.

I suppose Mr. Collins might have. He did not try to interrupt our conversation. I would not much mind if he did think the worst of me, but I do not want others to get the idea that I have a partiality for Mr. Wickham. Especially Mr. Darcy.

At least he does not think me a flirt. It was nice of him to say that yesterday. But I wonder what he thought of me for speaking to his enemy today. After what was said last night, that must have appeared dreadfully inconsiderate.

I hope he heard that we were only talking about my aunt’s dinner. I hope he saw that I did not initiate the conversation. I do not want him to think that I have no regard for his feelings or his comfort. I suppose that was the case just yesterday morning. Oh, how I regret having spoken so critically of him!

I was stupidly short-sighted, and now I feel that it was unjust to describe him as disagreeable. And to a man who may have gloated at hearing him disparaged. I have been no friend to Mr. Darcy, yet it suddenly seems as though we could be friends. It is astonishing, but so much has happened in such a short time.

Is that Miss Bingley beckoning? Here we go then. As Hamlet said, speak the lines trippingly.

Is Mr. Darcy staring at me again? I am glad he is nicer now, but it still makes me nervous to act under his scrutiny. I would like him to think me a capable actress. I believe I begin to value his opinion.



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