Chapter 2 #2
Somehow, when she was much younger, reading about far-flung places was enough.
But since then…. Having learnt French and some German from a lady who leased a nearby home for several years, and having heard her tales of the grandeur of the Alps and the splendour of Versailles, the ruins of Pompeii and the colourful Venetian Carnival—well!
If that lady could go so far and see so much, Elizabeth dearly hoped she, too, would someday be able to venture further… .
Despite her yearnings, Elizabeth was practical and of a cheerful outlook, so she brushed away her thoughts of “maybe, someday,” and she focused on the present.
She donned one of her favourite dresses, a pale yellow silk gown with a lovely deeper yellow ribbon sash.
Jane buttoned her gown after Elizabeth did up Jane’s.
They brushed their own hair but took turns being lady’s maid to one another for the styling.
In this, Jane was definitely the loser. The elder sister’s smooth, straight blonde hair was very easy for Elizabeth to put up and pin.
In contrast, Elizabeth’s dark hair was thick and curly, and it could look quite wild unless a fistful of pins was used to tame it.
Sarah, the maid that all five Bennet daughters shared, entered at some point, having already helped the three younger daughters to get ready. She took some of the hairpins and got to work on one side as Jane kept toiling away on the other.
Finally, Elizabeth was ready, all five sisters gathered their reticules and cloaks, and they followed their mother out to the carriage for the short ride to Meryton’s assembly hall.
The Bennets always arrived before the dancing started, but not much before—the chaos of six ladies getting ready with only two servants to help made it difficult to get anywhere early.
Just as Elizabeth stepped down from their carriage, she saw two men alight from a nearby carriage—a truly elegant looking carriage—and Elizabeth perked up with the awareness that these must be strangers.
Elizabeth heard her mother whisper: “Do you suppose that could be the very wealthy and very single Mr Bingley?”
Cringing a bit, Elizabeth studied the men and was glad that they did not seem to have heard. Her mother had the loudest whisper in the county or, perhaps, the entire kingdom.
Mr Bingley! Everyone in the neighbourhood knew that Netherfield Park was let again, this time to a Mr Bingley, but nobody had seen or visited him yet. Elizabeth had not even realised that he had actually arrived in the area.
Excited to meet new people, she studied the men’s backs as they walked several strides ahead of them.
One was average height, quite slim, with light coloured hair, and the other was quite a bit taller, of a more athletic build, with dark hair.
It was impossible to see anything else in the moonlight, although she imagined from their silhouettes that their clothing was as elegant as their carriage.
Her mother and two youngest sisters were murmuring to one another, undoubtedly about the men, their squeaky giggles calling attention to their embarrassing behaviour.
Elizabeth was often mortified by that half of her family, and she knew that such a feeling would be stronger when there were strangers to witness their lack of decorum, but she took Jane’s and Mary’s elbows and strode ahead so that they would be a sort of bulwark between the men and humiliation.
Elizabeth heard Mrs Long and her two nieces being greeted by the servants who took their cloaks. Then the servants addressed the men. Great coats and hats were given over. Now that they were inside, Elizabeth could confirm her guess; the fabric and fit of the men’s clothes were very fine indeed.
Soon she was giving over her cloak, smoothing her skirt, and adjusting the drawstring of her reticule. She took a step through the doorway, into the main room, when she was shocked to hear Sir William say, “And good evening, Mr Darcy; I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, sir.”
Mr Darcy? Probably not my Mr Darcy—although his height and hair colour match. She caught her breath. Was it possible?
More mortifying, even, than anything her mother and youngest sisters had ever done, Elizabeth was embarrassed that she had briefly thought of the brother of a long-ago acquaintance as her Mr Darcy.
It had been five years since Mr Darcy had frightened away a villain outside the milliner’s shop in Ramsgate, and then he and his sister Georgiana had been spotted a few times at the beach.
Ever since then, Elizabeth and Jane had written to Georgiana, exchanging letters every month for the first year and then settling down to exchanging four to six letters per year, for the next four years.
Given the fact that the Bennets lived near London, and Georgiana lived most of the year in northern England, they knew that they may never see each other again.
Since Georgiana’s clothes—and those of her brother—were made of the best fabrics money could buy, Jane and Elizabeth had known that the Darcys were far wealthier, as well, which meant that, even if they were in London at the same time as Georgiana, they would not likely see one another.
Still, all three ladies kept writing; the connexion still held.
But in all that time, there had been no connexion between Elizabeth and Mr Darcy.
She had only spoken to him once, to thank him for frightening the scoundrel away; he had only spoken a few words back.
Despite the paucity of interactions, Elizabeth had thought about Mr Darcy many, many times over the years.
He had seemed heroic towards them, caring towards his sister, polite and respectful to her uncle and aunt.
The last bit seemed notable; she had overheard Uncle Edward telling Aunt Maddie that Mr Darcy was in the first circles, and the fact that he allowed his sister to correspond with the child of a man he knew to be in trade was quite impressive.
Perhaps most important to her impressionable 15-year-old self, she thought about Mr Darcy because she thought him incredibly handsome.
To be infatuated with a man she hardly knew had been embarrassing to Elizabeth, and she had tried to convince herself that her mind had exaggerated his looks and bearing, and that she had invented a sterling character based on little evidence.
Still, despite her determination to think no more of Mr Darcy, she continued to dream about him with some frequency while asleep, and to compare young men of her acquaintance against him while awake.
Now, Elizabeth took a step towards where Sir William was standing with the two men, although propriety dictated that she not approach and beg for an introduction. Just as she scolded herself for the single step, the taller man turned his face towards her.
And time seemed to stop. It was him! Georgiana’s brother. The man of her dreams—notwithstanding her efforts to forget him.
“Mr Darcy!” she exclaimed. Embarrassed, she froze as she remembered that they had never been introduced.
But he smiled and said, “Miss Elizabeth! What a pleasure to see you again. Is your elder sister here?”
The man who must have been Mr Bingley asked, “How do you know—”
Sir William said, “You know one another! Capital, capital.”
Elizabeth was so glad that Mr Darcy had covered for her—now everybody would assume that they had been introduced!—that she smiled widely and curtseyed.
He bowed to her and swiftly answered Bingley, “We met at Ramsgate, many years ago.” He said to Elizabeth, “If your first set remains unclaimed, I would be very happy if you would do me the honour of dancing with me.”
Blushing in awareness that a request to dance the first set was generally considered significant, Elizabeth said, “There is no prior claim, and I should love to dance with you. Thank you.” She told herself that Mr Darcy did not mean anything by asking for the first set.
It was probable that she and Jane were the only two ladies he knew at the assembly.
Mr Bingley cleared his throat, and Mr Darcy introduced him to Elizabeth. She turned towards the shorter man, smiled and curtseyed and murmured the correct words. He asked for her second set, and she agreed.
Remembering Mr Darcy’s first words to her, Elizabeth swiftly turned back to Mr Darcy. “Sir, my sister, is indeed here at the assembly.” She turned her head and saw that Jane was with her mother and other sisters. Feeling trepidation, she waved them all to her side.
She noticed that Jane’s perpetual smile was marred by the slight downward slant of her eyebrows. For Jane to indicate even the tiniest amount of disapprobation was tantamount to a severe scolding; Jane knew very well that they had never been introduced to Mr Darcy.
Jane reached them first; Elizabeth felt a bit of relief that her mother was struggling to herd all three of their sisters towards the men.
Mr Darcy said, “Miss Bennet, I am glad to see you again. I imagine it has been five or six years since we met.”
“Five years and two months, sir,” Jane responded as she dipped a perfect curtsey.
Sir William bounced happily and said, “Ah, so you also know Miss Bennet, the brightest jewel of the county.” It was so common that Elizabeth heard elaborate praise for her elder sister, even comparative praise like this, which made clear to all that Jane was prettier, sweeter, better in every way than other ladies, including Elizabeth.
It generally did not hurt her feelings because it was so very true.
Jane was at least ten times more beautiful and a hundred times better mannered.
This time, however, Elizabeth felt a pang. She knew that Mr Darcy would not call on her—but she felt a sudden panic about the possibility of having to watch Mr Darcy court Jane.
Mr Darcy shot a glare at Sir William. “I believe that Miss Elizabeth is also a treasure beyond compare,” he said in a low voice. Elizabeth was astonished at such a statement.