Chapter 2
Two weeks later, I was preparing for the summer assembly in the village hall. It wasn’t a formal affair, so I didn’t need to wear my best white muslin. But still, I dithered over my meagre selection of second bests, a blue and a green, which were already out of fashion. Papa simply couldn’t afford to keep up with the ever-changing styles that came out of London, and hidden from society here in Steventon, it wasn’t fair of us to demand them. So Harriet and I made do. But still, it would have been nice to have a selection of more than two evening dresses.
Sighing, I plucked out the green, shimmied into it, and attempted to pile my hair and pin it without much success.
‘Here, let me.’ Harriet pushed me down in front of the dressing table mirror. She’d been lounging on my bed, waiting for me to get ready, absorbed in her latest Gothic romance novel, The Castle of Otranto . Jane had lent it to her from her father’s library.
‘How’s the book?’ I asked.
‘Excellent,’ said Harriet, curling and pinning with dexterity. ‘It’s so spooky I daren’t read it at night.’
I shuddered. ‘I don’t know how you can read it at all. I’m surprised Mr Austen has it in his library.’
‘He’s beginning to cultivate quite the Gothic collection, what with Ann Radcliffe and William Beckford too. There, what do you think?’
She held up a small mirror behind my head so I could see the full effect. My unruly mane had been tamed into a sleek coiffured style.
‘Wonders! You’ve made me look so presentable I might even receive a dance or two.’
Harriet smiled at me in the mirror. ‘I would’ve thought that was par for the course with Mr Green in attendance. Isn’t that why you’re wearing his colour?’
‘He will be there, but we might not speak or dance much. We never do at these things. I’ve cautioned him against overfamiliarity. I would be surprised if he even looked directly at me.’
‘It’s a strange connection you two have, I’m sure.’ Harriet shook her head. ‘What’s the point of being practically engaged if you can’t enjoy each other’s company in public?’
Because we enjoy each other’s company much more in private , I thought. Aloud, I said, ‘Because we are not practically engaged. Anyway, never mind about me. I hear Mr Pringle will be attending tonight. You are bound to catch his attention.’
I surveyed her with an admiring eye. Harriet was looking resplendent in peach silk, a thin band of gold twined through her hair, and our mother’s pearl drop earrings completing the elegant effect.
Her eyes met mine in the mirror. ‘Do you think so?’
I nodded confidently. ‘If he doesn’t ask you to dance, I shall consider him a fool.’
Harriet giggled. ‘He may ask you to dance, Fliss, and be so charming you’ll have to consider him otherwise.’
I grinned at her. ‘I’ll keep an open mind if that eventuality occurs.’
***
The dance was in full swing when Papa, Aunt, Harriet, and I arrived. The hall was a crush of people; and the heat, music, and clatter of stamping feet made my head swim after the quiet cool of the country lanes. Spotting Jane standing by the window, I pushed my way over to her.
‘Flissy! Finally!’ We clasped hands and kissed cheeks. ‘Why are you so late?’ she scolded. ‘There’s already been two sets.’
‘Aunt made us wait in her parlour while she searched for a “misplaced” glove. She likes to be fashionably late,’ I explained, quelling the urge to roll my eyes. I searched the throng of dancers, looking for Samuel’s flaxen hair but couldn’t see him amongst them.
‘Have you been up?’
Jane inclined her head. ‘Just with my brother for the first. But see who’s he talking to now.’
She moved back slightly, and farther along the wall, I glimpsed Jane’s elder brother Henry in conversation with Samuel. My heart skipped a beat as he looked over, his eyes meeting mine. He gave a slow nod, and his gaze roved over my dress approvingly. My cheeks flushed, and I wished I’d worn the blue so it didn’t look so obvious I was thinking about him. A dressing error on my part. I returned the nod and attempted to breathe steadily, which was difficult since Harriet had laced my stays overly tight. Another dressing error.
Jane squeezed my hand. ‘Don’t look now, but a likely prospect approaches. Act natural.’
We proceeded to confer about the inclement weather of late when a hesitant voice came over my right shoulder.
‘Miss Blackburn?’
I turned to find short, stocky Will Hayes, one of Papa’s apprentices, before me. His complexion was typically pale and freckled, but on this occasion, his cheeks were fiery red and competing with his ginger hair. He must have been dancing to look so exerted.
‘If you are free, would you stand up with me for the next dance?’ he asked somewhat breathlessly.
I could see no reason why not. ‘I’d be delighted. Thank you, Mr Hayes,’ I said with a smile.
‘The pleasure is all mine.’ He bowed abruptly and moved off to wait a few feet away.
‘Will is overly eager,’ remarked Jane, looking amused. ‘I’d watch out there.’
‘Oh, it’s just one dance. He won’t commandeer me for another if I do not wish it.’ My eyes slid to Samuel, his back to me now and posture stiff as if assiduously ignoring me. Had he witnessed Will’s invitation? Surely, he wasn’t professing jealousy? He was ten times better-looking than Will Hayes, and he knew it. I sighed. Perhaps I should dance a couple of alternate sets with Samuel. I liked him a lot and didn’t want to cause offence if he was feeling insecure.
I was about to suggest to Jane that she talk to her brother about talking to Samuel so he could ask me. But the call came to take our places for the next dance. Will proffered his arm and led me away, so I didn’t have the opportunity.
The rhythm of the music and the energy of the boisterous crowd lifted my spirits, and I laughed with pleasure as I clapped and stamped and whirled around. Anyone who was caught up in it couldn’t fail to be stirred—unless you weren’t one of the ones dancing. Then it was very much a matter of living vicariously through others, which was what had happened to my sister, I realised with some dismay. Harriet’s beauty was too intimidating, and the men in attendance feared rejection, so she hadn’t been asked to dance. Her face was one of stoic misery as she watched on. Papa had gone off somewhere while Aunt was talking animatedly to her friend and not including Harriet at all. She was completely alone. I grabbed Will’s arm on the turn.
‘Would you be so kind as to ask my sister to stand up for the next?’ I said.
His smile faltered, and I understood that he had intended to ask me again. But this would put a stop to that and help Harriet.
‘Please, as a favour to me?’ I implored.
He nodded before twirling me away from him. As he did so, my relief at having saved Harriet from wallflower status changed to surprise when I caught sight of Samuel dancing with Jane farther up the line. He must have asked her, or his brother had told him to. A knot of discomfort worked its way into the tight cavity beneath my stays as I observed them. Samuel was an excellent dancer, and Jane was light on her feet. They made a good match. He caught my eye as he held her hand on the promenade and grinned cheekily at my disapproving expression. I couldn’t believe it. He’d planned it so I’d get equally jealous, and it had worked. The conniving fool!
The music ended with a flourish, and we all clapped enthusiastically. I bowed to Will, then gestured to Harriet, and he nodded. We made our way over to her, and he dutifully asked her for the next dance. I sighed in relief, seeing her face brighten as she nodded her assent.
I was fanning myself against the wall, Harriet having gone off with Will to the supper room to fetch us cold drinks, when Jane appeared. She was smiling widely, which was no surprise, for Samuel was the handsomest man in the room. A greater determination to dance with him rose in me seeing her pleasure. I wanted to see her happily matched, of course I did—just not with Samuel. I was playing a risky game with him. If I wasn’t careful, he’d lose interest and ditch me for someone else more appreciative, like Jane. I needed to show him I wasn’t too proud to be seen with a farmer’s son in public, though there was a certain matter we needed to discuss before I could assent to marriage.
Jane grasped my hands; hers were slightly moist, and her curls were damp on her forehead. She opened her mouth to say something. But before she could, there was a kind of murmured rustling in the crowd, and heads started turning towards the door.
‘What’s happening?’ I asked, and she craned her neck to see.
‘He’s here! Mr Pringle—he’s arrived,’ she replied excitedly.
‘Where?’ Cursing my lack of height, I stood on my tiptoes and looked over, but all I could discern was a sea of heads. Then a few people shifted. A man, a tall austere man with dark hair and a handsome face, came into view. He was standing by the entrance, surveying everyone with a haughty expression.
‘Gracious. Is that him?’ I whispered to Jane, holding up my fan so our conversation would be private.
Jane whipped up her own fan. ‘Oh no, that’s Mr Pringle’s friend, Mr Fitzroy,’ she whispered back. ‘Apparently, he’s even richer.’
‘Mr Stonyface’s money doesn’t seem to have made him very happy,’ I remarked, lowering my fan to peer at him. ‘He looks like he would rather be anywhere else at this present moment.’
Jane tittered. ‘ Mr Stonyface. Now that is an unfortunate nickname to incur.’
‘Mr Pringle looks ten times more amiable.’ I could now observe his fair-haired friend who was busily making the acquaintance of mothers and daughters, no doubt eager to have him round for tea. Slightly shorter than Mr Stonyface and not as overtly handsome, still, he exhibited a cheerful and pleasant demeanour, which that other gentleman sorely lacked.
‘Felicity!’ Aunt appeared, and we snapped our fans shut and stood to attention. ‘Where’s Harriet?’ she demanded.
‘With Will Hayes,’ I replied. ‘They went to the supper room—’
Aunt clicked her tongue. ‘Will Hayes? No, no, that won’t do. She has to come and meet Mr Pringle this instant. And you too, of course, dear.’
Jane and I exchanged smirks.
After a few minutes, Harriet and Will appeared. Aunt immediately took her elbow and herded her towards the front of the room, leaving behind a bewildered Mr Hayes clutching her drink and his. Jane and I trailed along behind, sharing my glass of chilled wine. It appeared we were about to become acquainted with Mr Pringle and his dour friend.
When we approached, Mr Pringle was speaking to Papa about needing a new suit; he seemed to be describing what he wanted in great detail. Papa was nodding and saying things like ‘That won’t be any trouble’ and ‘I have those exact buttons’. I assumed Aunt had seen a window of opportunity for an introduction and hastened away while they were talking .
Papa turned and saw our posse. ‘Ah, Mr Pringle, may I introduce my daughters, Harriet and Felicity Blackburn.’ We exchanged bows.
‘There is also Jane, Papa,’ I said, pushing her forward slightly.
‘And Jane Austen, Reverend Austen’s daughter.’
Mr Pringle smiled widely, showing off a good set of straight white teeth. ‘Hello, Miss Austen. We meet again.’ His voice had a strong Welsh lilt that was not unpleasing.
‘Mr Pringle,’ she said, bowing.
We all turned to her. ‘Mr Pringle’s daily rides take him past our house, and he’s stopped in once or twice to see Father. The other day, he stayed for Sunday luncheon,’ she explained.
‘A delicious roast hogget it was too! And you and your brothers were most excellent company.’
I could see by Aunt’s frown that she was becoming annoyed that Mr Pringle was paying more attention to Jane than Harriet.
‘How long do you plan to stay in Steventon, Mr Pringle?’ I interjected hastily. ‘Do you not miss London?’
‘No, not at all,’ he said, smiling at me. ‘In fact, I’m rather enjoying exchanging birdsong for bustle. London does drain one so with its constant demands.’
‘Exactly what I think, Mr Pringle!’ exclaimed Aunt. ‘I think you’ll find Steventon and our small, but lively dances much more to your taste.’
Throughout this exchange, Mr Fitzroy was standing off to the side, within earshot, but not bothering to make our acquaintance. But now he had no choice but to be drawn in with Mr Pringle’s next comment. ‘I’m sure I shall. But I’m afraid my friend Mr Fitzroy here wholeheartedly disagrees with me. He detests country dances and had to be persuaded to come tonight on pain of death. Didn’t you, Max?’ Mr Pringle said, looking round at him with a grin.
Mr Fitzroy nodded but declined to respond. Clearly, he thought we were too far below him in rank to even speak to!
I found myself wishing he would take himself off back to London immediately so he didn’t have to spoil our fun with his disdain.
‘Perhaps if you danced, Mr Fitzroy, you might find the assembly more to your liking?’ I said, unable to help myself.
Immediately, his piercing gaze was upon me, and I noticed how unusually blue his eyes were. Coupled with his handsomeness, I couldn’t help but feel somewhat affected as he stared at me for what felt like an eternity without speaking. Then he averted his eyes and said gruffly, ‘I never dance, unless my partner is well known to me.’
‘But how will you make friends if you hide yourself away in the corner?’ I persisted.
I’d obviously struck a nerve as Mr Fitzroy’s countenance darkened, and his lips tightened.
‘If you’ll excuse me,’ he said, bowed, and strode off outside.
I was left open-mouthed at his rudeness, though my comment had been impertinent, I supposed. But still. What an unpleasant man! He and Mr Pringle were like chalk and cheese.
The latter had, in an attempt to smooth over his friend’s frosty departure, turned his attention to Harriet. ‘Miss Blackburn, I’d be delighted if you would partner me for the next dance, if you are not otherwise engaged?’
Harriet started, ‘Oh, actually ...’ But I shook my head at her, behind his back. Will could wait, for goodness’ sake! This was a much better offer. ‘Thank you, I’d be delighted,’ she said. Mr Pringle offered her his arm, and they disappeared into the throng.
‘Well!’ said Aunt, looking mightily pleased at the outcome of her introduction. ‘Let us pray that he’ll find Harriet to be another merit of the countryside.’
Jane and I, not having partners, went outside for a breather. Beneath one of the windows round the back of the hall was a small wooden bench, and we sank onto it. I, for one, was glad to escape the confines of the crowded, stuffy tallow-scented room. It had also become tainted with the presence of that rude gentleman, who had seemed to suck all the enjoyment out of the evening for me.
‘What did you think of him, Jane? Mr Stonyface?’ I asked, expecting immediate agreement, for we usually shared the same opinion on most things.
‘His behaviour was awkward,’ she said after hesitating for a moment. ‘But I think that was because he was shy.’
‘Shy!’ I let out a hoot of laughter. ‘You’re a kind judge to be sure. I thought him the most impolite person I’ve ever met!’
‘Hush, Flissy.’ She peered into the bushes that surrounded the back of the hall. ‘He came outside, did he not? He may overhear.’
‘Excellent.’ I folded my arms and leaned back against the wall, looking up at the few twinkling stars in the night sky. ‘I hope he does and is more considerate in future.’
Jane glanced at me. ‘So you wish to see him again?’
‘No, I meant—’
Whatever I meant was quickly silenced by Jane as she put a finger to her lips. Two figures had appeared at the corner of the building in proximity to where we sat in the darkness, and from the light of the window, they were easily recognisable as Mr Pringle and his disagreeable friend.
Mr Pringle was expounding on his enjoyment of dancing with Harriet, while Mr Fitzroy grunted something I couldn’t quite hear. ‘Come now, Max, you must agree there are a number of pretty girls in attendance.’
‘No, I disagree entirely,’ said he. ‘You were dancing with the only tolerable one. As for the rest of her party, the piglets running around in the Austens’ sty are more attractive.’
I stiffened in shock. Did he actually just compare us to pigs and find us wanting? Any notion I’d had about giving Mr Fitzroy a second chance was completely extinguished and replaced by anger. If Jane hadn’t been gripping me firmly by the arm, I may have leapt up, rushed over, and pummelled him.
The rest of their conversation flowed past my ears, but I didn’t bother to listen. Debrief finished, they moved off back inside the hall.
‘Now surely you must change your opinion of him? You cannot stick up for a man who says he finds piglets more attractive than us!’ I hissed.
Jane shook her head and said soberly, ‘Yes, I think you are right. Well, if he has such a preference for our farmyard animals, I’ll have to ask Father to formally introduce him. Oink oink!’
We collapsed into giggles.