Chapter 17
Assembly in Meryton
Twelfth Night
The violins and flutes of the assembly were already playing as the Bennet family walked into the hall.
Dozens of blazing candles illuminated a glittering scene of finery and gaiety, everyone dressed in their best gowns and coats and jewels to celebrate the end of the Christmas season.
The heat of candles and dancers kept the room pleasantly warm against the frosty chill outside, and merry voices of greeting were raised as friends took note of the newcomers.
Elizabeth, in between Jane and Mary, looked around the room eagerly, searching for a particular tall silhouette.
The Longbourn household had seen very little of their nearest neighbors over the past few days as a freak snowstorm had blown up and entirely covered all paths and roads between the estates and towns.
This isolation had brought with it a peculiar trial, which was as unexpected as the storm itself.
Despite her own admiration of Mr. Darcy and her joy at accepting his courtship, Elizabeth had been unprepared for the depth of her desolation at being suddenly deprived of his company for some several days.
She had found ways to occupy herself, of course, but her eyes inevitably turned towards Netherfield when she was out of doors or paused beside a window.
Her hopes had risen with the south wind as it brought with it a welcome thaw, the snow melting away into slush and mud.
This Elizabeth had anxiously observed, well aware that her father would not sanction the carriage wheels being endangered by thick mud.
To her immense relief and the stated joy of all the Bennet women, the ground and lanes had dried sufficiently that they could safely travel into town for the annual Meryton Twelfth Night ball.
It was an event that Elizabeth and all her sisters, and of course their mother, had always enjoyed.
It was not as elaborate as the masquerades and bonfires that hallmarked the end of Christmastide in London, with dominoes and rowdy parties and revelry that lasted well into the next morning, but Elizabeth loved their quieter little affair.
Today she had taken more pains over her gown and hair than usual, but she was confident that no one except Jane had noticed.
Now Elizabeth smiled warmly at friends and neighbors as her eyes caught theirs, but her gaze never lingered. There was one face in particular she was hoping to find here this evening.
“Good evening,” a deep, familiar voice said from her left, and Elizabeth turned a smiling face on the tall, dark, and very handsome master of Pemberley.
“Good evening,” she replied happily.
“Might you do me the honor of dancing the first set tonight?” he asked.
“I would like that,” she said, beaming at him. “I would like that very much.”
“How about the Boulanger as well?” he asked daringly.
“Yes.”
“And perhaps the third and fourth sets, as well?” he continued, and she shook her head, her fine eyes dancing.
“No, Mr. Darcy, that would be rather too much,” she said, laughing quietly at his jest. “My mother has not yet noticed that you are paying me a great deal of attention, and I would not wish for her to begin speaking to all and sundry of your interest in me.”
“The first and last it is, then,” Darcy replied, looking pleased. “But I hope for so much more soon.”
Elizabeth blushed as the musicians began playing. He held out his arm, and she took it, and together they walked side by side onto the dance floor.
***
An Hour Later
“Would you do me the honor of dancing the next set with me, Miss Bennet?”
Jane, who had been watching Elizabeth and Darcy in another corner of the room, turned in surprise and smiled at Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Thank you, yes.”
“Thank you,” Fitzwilliam said, bowing slightly. “Do you mind if I sit with you until the music starts again?”
“Of course not,” Jane replied, patting the chair next to her. He lowered himself into his chair, and Jane, watching him, was amused when he too turned an intent gaze on Elizabeth and Darcy.
It was a full minute before he seemed to recollect that he was ignoring a lady, and he shook himself a trifle and said, “My apologies, Miss Bennet. How are you doing tonight?”
“I am very well,” Jane said, and then added, with surprising daring, “and you need not apologize. I suspect you are as interested as I am in the burgeoning romance between my sister and your cousin.”
The colonel blinked at these bold words and said in hushed tones, “That is true enough, Miss Bennet. I confess to being excited for Darcy. I admire Caroline Bingley a great deal, but I never thought them well suited. I am happy that the engagement is at an end and hope that my cousin will find a more complementary bride, even as I am certain you wish for a good husband for Miss Elizabeth.”
“I do,” Jane said, her blue eyes shining. “Of course, we do not know the future, but I am hopeful that they will make a match of it. Lizzy is clever, and most men would have trouble keeping up with her intellect, but Mr. Darcy seems to be very quick indeed.”
“He is,” Colonel Fitzwilliam agreed heartily, and then he sighed and said, in a lower voice, “I feel I must make an apology to you, Miss Bennet.”
She lifted an eyebrow and tilted her head. “An apology? For what?”
Again, he sighed, and he said, “I know that I have been paying you a great deal of attention, which has doubtless provoked some gossiping in the area, but…”
“But you need to marry a woman with money,” Jane finished with an understanding smile. “I know.”
He looked startled for ten seconds, and then said ruefully, “I am sorry, but you are entirely correct. You are all that anyone would wish for in a wife, except…”
“That I have no dowry. Colonel Fitzwilliam, I like you very much, and I wish you health and wealth and happiness. I realized some weeks ago that you would struggle with poverty, and while I have enjoyed our time together, I had no expectations, I assure you.”
He gazed at her with an odd expression on his face and then shook his head.
“I somehow feel quite ashamed at your understanding. I have never thought of myself as a fortune hunter, and yet, in spite of your manifest advantages, I have realized that I would not be happy without additional income beyond the allowance from my father.”
“You ought not to feel ashamed,” Jane replied kindly.
“It is far better to understand one’s own requirements in marriage than to wed foolishly.
If you had made me an offer and I had been unwise enough to accept, you would likely have been unhappy, and that is the last thing I want for my husband.
I will pray you can find an appropriate bride, Colonel. ”
“Thank you. I confess to being somewhat discouraged by the process. There are a number of ladies of the haut ton who would be glad enough to marry the younger son of an earl, but perhaps arrogantly, I wish to be pursued not merely because of my connections, but because of my person. And yet, that sounds dreadful when I have acknowledged that I will not marry a woman without a substantial fortune.”
“Not at all,” Jane said. “You are not willing to marry only for fortune; it is merely one of your requirements. But come, you mentioned that you admire Miss Bingley. She has a substantial fortune. Have you considered her?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam’s eyes bulged at these words, and he turned his head swiftly toward the fire, where Miss Bingley was standing in discussion with Miss Lucas.
“I must admit that I had not,” he said in a surprised tone.
***
Later Still
Elizabeth swayed in time to the music as she watched the other dancers in the circle.
She met Mr. Darcy’s eyes where he stood beside her, and she smiled brightly at him.
He smiled back, and she turned her eyes back into the circle, reaching out to take the hands of her partner and neighbors to circle with them.
The evening was drawing to a close. Sometimes assemblies were more enjoyable, and sometimes they were less so.
This one would stand out in Elizabeth’s memory as the best she had attended.
The first set, and now the last, she had danced with the man she admired so ardently.
She had maintained her resolution to only dance the two dances as partners, so as to not give rise to speculation and gossip, but it was a resolution assisted in no small part by consistently meeting him on the dance floor even when they were partnered with others.
In the pauses between dances, as the musicians were refreshing themselves with drink or a quick bite of food or tweaking the tuning of their instruments, Darcy had come over to stand beside Elizabeth’s chair, bearing punch and light and friendly conversation.
Mrs. Bennet, gravitating between her daughters, her sister Phillips, and her good friend, Lady Lucas, paused a few times to exchange civil words with Mr. Darcy before bustling on.
Elizabeth had followed her mother’s progress with a wry smile.
In some ways it seemed very odd that Mrs. Bennet had not noticed the great deal of attention that Mr. Darcy was paying to her second daughter.
Reflection led Elizabeth to the conclusion that Mrs. Bennet did not yet consider Mr. Darcy an eligible bachelor, with the ending of his public engagement so recently announced.
Whatever led to Mrs. Bennet’s obliviousness, Elizabeth was grateful.
The longer until her mother noticed the nascent courtship between the cautious couple, the longer they would have peace to get to know one another.
Already, the seeds of their romance were beginning to sprout and grow, with deepening respect and heightening admiration and perhaps even something tenderer.
Every conversation they shared, every anecdote recounted, every small gesture only made Elizabeth more certain that she was falling deeply in love with Mr. Darcy.
Dropping into a curtsey and smiling at her partner as the dance came to an end, Elizabeth could only hope that this blooming courtship would bear fruit during this magical Christmas season.
***
Drawing Room
Longbourn
12th February, 1812
“It is beautiful outside,” Elizabeth said, gazing out of the window. It was a cold and cloudy day, but there was little wind, and fat snowflakes drifted in a whirling dance beyond the glass.
“Would you like to go for a walk?” Mr. Darcy asked.
She turned to look at him with a smile. Almost every day for the last five weeks, she had visited Netherfield Hall or Mr. Darcy had visited Longbourn.
Mrs. Bennet was now very aware that Mr. Darcy was courting her second daughter and was sometimes rather noisy about it.
To Elizabeth’s relief, her suitor did not seem overly offended by the manners of his prospective mother-in-law.
“I would, very much,” she said simply, and Mrs. Bennet, who was sitting by the fire, said, “I daresay the hermitage is quite beautiful, my dear. Go on with you!”
She smiled at her mother and rose from her chair, and Darcy stood as well, and together they walked out of the room into the corridor, and from there to the vestibule.
A maid arrived within seconds and helped them into their outerwear, while the butler appeared in time to open the door for them.
They left the house arm in arm and descended the stairs just as the Bennet carriage pulled up and halted.
A moment later, Kitty and Lydia were disgorged from the vehicle, chattering happily to one another until they observed the courting couple standing nearby.
“Oh, Mr. Darcy, Lizzy!” Kitty cried out. “We were just visiting the Marshalls. Their little baby is so adorable!”
“She is,” Lydia agreed, and then elbowed Kitty in a very non discreet way. “But we are cold, so if you do not mind…”
“Of course not,” Elizabeth said in an amused tone, and she and Darcy walked away, while her sisters entered the house.
She smiled fondly at the thought of the younger Bennets, who had returned from Cheapside only a week previously and were doing their clumsy best to encourage the courtship between Darcy and Elizabeth. While they were sometimes rather obvious in their scheming, it was thoroughly adorable.
“I am not even certain if you have seen the hermitage,” Elizabeth said aloud as they turned to enter the wilderness to the east of Longbourn.
“I do not think I have,” Darcy said.
“It is tucked over in this corner,” Elizabeth said, guiding the man she admired; no, the man she loved; around a hedge or two until they arrived at the small wooden hut, surrounded by oak trees and placed in a corner of the property near the house.
She turned to look at Darcy, who was, as was common, looking at her, and she said mischievously. “What do you think of it, sir? Is it not grand?”
He looked startled and then obediently directed his gaze at the hut, which was made of aged wooden planks.
“It is pleasant,” he said steadily, and Elizabeth chuckled and said, “My mother is proud of it, but I think it is rather absurd.”
He grinned and said, “The concept of hermitages does seem an odd one, especially when such a structure is truly inhabited by a hermit.”
She laughed now, joyously, and said, “Yes, Longbourn has never been wealthy enough to actually hire an ornamental hermit, but I have heard of it being done. Such a ridiculous thing! But I suppose the very wealthy find peculiar things to spend their money on. But come, sir, you will not tell me that Pemberley is devoid of a hermitage, surely!”
“I regret to say that we have no hermitage,” Darcy said solemnly, “but we do have a folly near a lake about a mile from the main house. It is an open structure and actually quite lovely on a hot summer day.”
“It does sound lovely,” Elizabeth said absently. As was sometimes the case when she was in Darcy’s company, she found her mind had gone blank, aware as she was of her suitor’s nearness. She loved him. Oh, how she loved him.
“Elizabeth?”
She swallowed hard. “Yes?”
“I love you,” Darcy said simply, his eyes glowing with passion. “Will you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?”
She swallowed again, and her eyes filled with happy tears. “Yes, Mr… that is, Fitzwilliam. I will marry you.”