Chapter 2
Meryton Assembly Hall
“Do you intend to dance any more tonight?” Bingley asked.
Darcy had fetched lemonade for his sister and then retreated to a corner of the room, only to be surprised when his brother-in-law followed him.
“I will dance the Boulanger with Caroline later,” he said. “I suppose I could ask Louisa to dance if you like.”
Bingley sighed and took a sip of punch. “I was hoping that perhaps you would dance with one of the other ladies here. I am trying to make a good impression in the community, and I am confident that Georgiana and Caroline would both like to become acquainted with some of the other women in residence.”
Darcy sighed in response, and then he nodded. “Very well.”
“Truly?” Charles demanded, looking surprised. “I did not expect you to agree so quickly.”
“Caroline said much the same thing, that she wishes to make friends in the area, with the additional point that there are not many gentlemen here and it would be honorable to dance.”
He looked around the room, his eyes narrowed, until his gaze fell on the second of the Misses Bennet.
Miss Elizabeth, he thought? She was an attractive lady with a cheerful countenance, and she was sufficiently slim that even if she was a bad dancer and trod on his feet, it likely would not hurt much.
He straightened his back and strode over to the lady, who smiled at his approach.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said, “might I have the honor of the next set?”
“Of course, Mr. Darcy.”
***
Twenty Minutes Later
Darcy had declared that it would be a punishment to stand up with any other lady in the room, but he found that dancing with Miss Elizabeth was anything but unpleasant.
Contrary to his fears of trodden-on and half-crushed toes, Miss Elizabeth was an excellent dancer, with the sort of graceful ease that came from deep familiarity with the dances and long years of practice.
Nor was she plain, as were several unfortunate young ladies around the assembly room, but vibrantly pretty, with a vivacious face and a rather irresistible smile.
It was her eyes that were her best feature, however, a deep golden brown, sparkling like stars with her joy.
Darcy found himself smiling back, a most unusual occurrence.
It was rare that he found himself enjoying parties such as these.
Indeed, he loathed the squeezes of London.
However, Meryton was nothing like London, this rustic assembly hall filled with simpler, kinder people, closer to their land and their tenants, less powdered and perfumed and artificial.
Yes, London society had a tendency to feel fake to a man who preferred the quieter life of the country.
Nor were the matrons looking at him in assessment like a prize pig on the block, weighing his fortune and his connections and his eligibility for their daughters, and throwing unmarried young misses at his head and flattering him.
Darcy was under no illusions as to the shared ambitions of mothers of unmarried daughters throughout every stratum of English society, but it seemed that already the information had spread that he was engaged to Miss Caroline Bingley.
Not that it was a genuine engagement, but no one could know that aside from the lady and himself.
Darcy was quite sincere in his friendship with Bingley and even with Miss Bingley, and he was cordial with Louisa Hurst and her husband, but he was under no illusions as to the character of the matriarch of the family.
Old Sir John had been a fine man, but his wife was a social climber of the deepest-dyed stripe.
Darcy sympathized with Miss Bingley’s desire to escape her mother’s control.
It was difficult to do because until Caroline reached her majority, her mother and Charles controlled her dowry.
While her easy-going brother would likely be sympathetic to her plight, his focus was entirely on his young wife and her needs and well-being, leaving him with but little attention to spare for his sisters and mother.
Lady Bingley, with one daughter married off acceptably, and her only son married to a well-dowered and well-born young lady, was now focusing her full attention on her youngest child.
When Caroline had laid her situation before Darcy and begged the favor from him of entering into an engagement simply to placate her mother, he had agreed.
It had the added benefit, in his opinion, of protecting him from the matchmaking mammas who had set their daughters’ caps at the wealthy master of Pemberley.
At least the gentlewomen of Meryton were respecting his engagement, greeting him with friendly cheer instead of the fawning flattery he had come to expect in London.
Men spoke genially among themselves and to the newcomers, and young ladies were eager to dance, with little regard to whether their partner was already attached or would decline a second or third set.
It was friendly and comfortable in a way that the glitter and social jockeying of London had never been.
As for Mr. Darcy, he was slowly coming to the conclusion that he had the most agreeable partner in the room.
“I understand that Mr. Bingley and his family originally hail from Yorkshire,” Miss Elizabeth said as the pair came to a halt at the end of the lines of dancers. “Are you also from the north?”
“Yes, but not quite as far north,” Darcy answered. “My sister Georgiana and I are from Derbyshire.”
“I have an aunt in London who grew up in Derbyshire. She has told me many times about the lovely landscapes of that county.”
“Where in Derbyshire is she from?”
“A little town called Lambton,” his partner replied.
“My estate is but five miles from Lambton,” Darcy said. “It is a charming place.”
The lady smiled at him just as it was time for them to begin twirling their way up the line again. He found himself smiling back at her. It was satisfying to be away from London and the gossip that ran here, there, and everywhere.
It had been a difficult few months since Georgiana’s near disaster, and the subsequent damage control. Charles Bingley was a good husband, and Darcy was hopeful that Georgiana would be happy with him, but he was tired from all that had transpired.
Netherfield seemed a fine estate, and most of the individuals in the house party were pleasant people. He found Lady Bingley to be tiresome, but all in all, he was content with his current situation.
***
Drawing Room
Longbourn
The Next Day
Wednesday, 13th November, 1811
“I see the Lucas’s carriage!” Lydia cried out, and Elizabeth, who was reading a novel, set it aside with a smile, pleased that the ladies of Lucas Lodge had arrived to talk about the assembly the previous night.
“Shall we greet them in the vestibule?” she asked her youngest sister, who nodded and started walking toward the door with Elizabeth hurrying after her
“I will summon your sisters,” Mrs. Bennet said, ringing the bell, and Elizabeth followed Lydia into a corridor and from there into the vestibule, which the Bennets’ butler had already opened.
Elizabeth and Lydia happily greeted Lady Lucas and her daughters, Charlotte and Maria, and Elizabeth said, “Come and join us in the drawing room, please.”
The ladies handed over their outer wraps to maids and followed the sisters back to the drawing room. By the time they had returned, the other three Bennet girls had arrived, and Mrs. Bennet cried out, “Sit down, sit down, and I will order tea.”
The ladies distributed themselves on the various sofas and chairs nearest the fire, as it was a chilly day, and Mrs. Bennet began the conversation by saying, “My dear Lady Lucas, do you know anything about Colonel Fitzwilliam? Is he wealthy?”
Lady Lucas looked startled and glanced at her elder daughter, who said, “I understand from Mrs. Hurst, Mr. Bingley’s elder sister, that the colonel is the second son of the Earl of Matlock and that the Matlock estate is a large and prosperous one.
Of course, as a second son, I have no idea how much he actually has in the way of income, but at least his family is wealthy. ”
Mrs. Bennet brightened at these words, and then her lips turned downward and she aimed a disappointed look at her eldest daughter, who was calmly knitting lace.
“My dear Jane,” she said mournfully, “it truly is such a dreadful pity that you were never introduced to the colonel. Just think of how wonderful it would be if you were to catch his eye!”
“I daresay Jane will meet the colonel someday soon,” Charlotte said comfortably. “The entire party plans to be here for some weeks.”
“It will be nice to have more gentlemen available for dancing,” Kitty, the fourth Miss Bennet, remarked.
“Dancing is all well and good,” Mrs. Bennet grumbled, “but what you girls need is husbands. It seems a great pity that only one of the gentlemen at Netherfield is unattached!”
“One is better than none,” Lady Lucas said in a reassuring tone. “In any case, more and more militia officers are arriving by the day, so we continue to have new gentlemen available for dancing and, perhaps, marriage.”
This provoked a squeal of excitement from Maria Lucas, and Mrs. Bennet brightened noticeably.
“My dears, you well know how much a red coat helps with a man’s looks.
When I was your age, I wanted nothing more than to capture an officer, although many of them are rather poor.
But if a smart young colonel of some five or six thousand pounds a year should want one of my girls, I will not say no to him! ”