Chapter 6
Six
STRANGER DANGER
Miss Bingley’s assessment of Meryton’s assembly rooms was not precisely accurate, for its residents were quite devoted to the gatherings, and very proud of their quarters in doing so.
They were not grand, perhaps, but they were spacious, and Mr Wiepar’s musicians were said to be the best in three counties.
The monthly assemblies were popular, and promised to be more so with the influx of a militia camp, right outside of Meryton.
Darcy kept to the perimeters, the very opposite of Bingley—who had immediately sought a dance with the comely Miss Bennet.
He did not wish to be inundated with introductions, unlike the way Bingley welcomed them, and abruptly he wondered how Georgiana would fare with such a gregarious spouse.
Perhaps in finding herself constantly facing comparison, she would notice her differences enough to attend more closely to them?
At the entrance of every dark-haired female, his sense of expectancy rose, only to be disappointed by each. The event was in full progress, and he had about decided that he must surrender any hopes for the arrival of mysterious beauties, when she entered.
Darcy had believed, even hoped, that his memory had misled him, that she could not possibly be as exquisite as his recollection painted.
But from his vantage point, half-hidden by a pillar, he found her twice as entrancing.
He did not know what he had expected; probably, that she would be surrounded immediately by friends and neighbours and he would have to persuade one of them to give him an introduction.
However, she stood alone, a little apart within the crowd, as if there was an invisible wall several inches thick surrounding her.
She had not entered with a man on her arm. Was she married, or was she not?
Casting his eyes about for the residents of Longbourn, he saw that Mr and Mrs Philips had joined a line of dancers, along with Miss Bennet and his friend; likely none of them had noticed her entrance.
A group of redcoats certainly had noticed, and were speaking amongst themselves, probably waiting for her to dance with someone familiar so they could finagle their own presentations.
Finally, one of the officers separated himself from the pack and approached her, obviously unwilling to wait any longer. Up to this point, Darcy had not paid any of the militia men particular attention; abruptly, they were his sole focus.
With a sinking feeling in his belly, he saw whose attention the beauty had drawn. How could it be him? Of all the regiments in England, why was he a part of this one? And why, of all the women in the world, had the blackguard fixed upon her?
Elizabeth had known it would be difficult.
She had counted upon Jane’s welcome to ease her way, to give those who still noticed her courage to approach—for certainly not everyone believed the insinuations and unflattering opinions of her aunt and uncle.
Unfortunately, she had timed her entrance poorly; Jane was partnering a red-haired stranger—Netherfield’s Mr Bingley?
The influx of redcoats had obviously drawn in a wider pool of neighbours than was usual for the event, and surprisingly, a goodly number of the assemblage was less known to her.
Trying to appear nonchalant, she searched the crowd for a familiar face… and spotted her mother.
The old, familiar ache of yearning spiked, almost startling her.
Mama appeared youthful and lively, laughing with Lady Lucas.
How Elizabeth longed for the days when Papa might have been here too, joking with her, teasing and poking fun at his neighbours…
for the days when Mama could look upon her least favourite daughter without wishing she was someone else.
The approach of a handsome officer was a pleasant distraction from the gloom of her thoughts.
“Tell me please, dear lady, to whom I might beg for an introduction? I thought I had met all Meryton’s fairest inhabitants, but I see I was vastly mistaken.”
Elizabeth smiled at the glib stranger. He was not over-tall, an inch or two more than herself, but was well-formed and very handsome.
As much as she appreciated his greeting, however, a deep-seated caution accompanied her friendly words, for she had no father to protect her if he exceeded his welcome.
“Ah, there is my mother on the other side of the room, sir. I have been looking for her—I am unaccustomed to such crowds as have attended tonight.”
“I am not long arrived in the area myself,” he said. “But please, take me to your mother at once, if you will, and I will throw myself upon her mercy.”
Even though her aunt was not at her mother’s side, Lady Lucas would be quick to fill the stranger’s ears.
Unfortunately, what choice did she have?
She had always known it would be difficult to run the gauntlet of her detractors.
It was part of Mr Morris’s appeal; as a long-time resident of the valley, he would have already decided whose part he would take, if he even cared to take any part at all.
He was a decent man, who, due to his position of trust by the gentry, was thought even more respectable than Mr Philips.
It was some of the high sticklers who denounced her most loudly, while the lower echelons were still respectful.
Luckily, granting the stranger his request for an introduction did not come to any confrontation; old Mr Goulding greeted her.
As her father’s oldest friend and Neddy’s guardian, he treated her as a daughter of Longbourn, still.
“Little Lizzy, it is good to see you here, my dear!” he enthused. “I hope you have saved me a country dance! I am still as nimble on my feet as I ever was! You need not fear for your shoe roses!”
He was a dear, and she accepted his invitation with alacrity; at the same time, the officer begged to be introduced. She was glad to see that Mr Goulding apparently had no qualms and did not hesitate to do so; it was probably safe to accept his—Mr Wickham’s—offer of a dance.