Chapter 29 Dining in Company
DINING IN COMPANY
Mrs Bennet enjoyed being the hostess of large parties, and the dinner would be no exception; she had invited all the most prominent families of the neighbourhood as well as those from Ashworth and—to the astonishment of all—Mr and Mrs Collins.
Apparently, Mr Collins had arrived at Lucas Lodge unannounced to ‘surprise’ Charlotte and her parents.
Elizabeth did not doubt that it was a surprise, but whether it was a happy one was less certain.
Seeing her friend made Elizabeth recall her promise to meet her the day following the ball. Charlotte had not called at Longbourn, so it was likely she was hurt by Elizabeth’s failure to appear. If we do not have the chance to speak tonight, I will call on her tomorrow.
As it was, Mr and Mrs Collins, along with Sir William and Lady Lucas, Maria, and Charlotte’s two eldest brothers, arrived first. Charlotte trailed slightly behind her husband with a bowed head, looking excessively tired.
They greeted Mr and Mrs Bennet and then moved towards Elizabeth where she stood with Kitty.
Kitty, seeing them approach, quickly moved away.
“Cousin Elizabeth,” said Mr Collins as he bowed to her. “I trust that you have been well in the weeks since you left us in Kent?”
“Very well, sir,” Elizabeth said politely. “And I hope you—”
“My dear cousin, I must confess, it is my concern for you—and naturally a great longing for my dear wife—which has brought me into Hertfordshire at this time. I have heard reports of an alarming nature that I felt must be addressed, and I do not think I am amiss in saying that Lady Catherine would be well pleased to know that the unhappy subject I must introduce is being brought to the fore.”
“That sounds very serious,” said Elizabeth with a teasing glance towards Charlotte.
Charlotte showed no sign of amusement. “It is very serious,” she said ominously.
“Cousin, Mrs Collins and I find ourselves greatly concerned by your—” He lowered his voice and looked about the room. “—aspirations.”
“My aspirations?” Elizabeth laughed, even as a prickled flush assailed her. “Good heavens, what can you mean?”
“It is no laughing matter,” Charlotte scolded.
Elizabeth looked at her in amazement.
Mr Collins continued speaking. “In seeking to ingratiate yourself with men above your sphere, you risk your modesty, your virtue, nay, your very respectability—”
“Respectability?” Elizabeth laughed again, now with greater incredulity than amusement. “Sir, I do not know what you mean to say to me, but I assure you that my modesty is not in question here.”
“Modesty,” Mr Collins began, “is a quality most prized in a young woman, for to be unassuming, not overstepping her place—”
Elizabeth looked around the drawing room, hoping for signs of a rescue. Alas it was not to be. The Lucas Lodge party remained their only arrivals, and everyone else was already in conversation. Undoubtedly better conversations than this one.
“Mr Collins,” she said, interrupting him. “I am grieved that you find my modesty and respectability to be in question, but be that as it is, I have to imagine that my presence here puts yours in danger as well.”
He paused mid-syllable, his mouth open. Presumably unable to find anything more clever, he said, “As Mr Darcy’s betrothed, Miss de Bourgh will not—”
“Pray do not let me trouble you further,” Elizabeth said sharply and turned away. She had not gone far before she overheard Charlotte say, to her husband,
“Eliza has always been too headstrong to listen to good counsel.”
Gritting her teeth, she resolved to put it aside and went off to greet whomever arrived next at the drawing room door.
As generally happened at a party, everyone seemed to appear at once, all their Meryton friends as well as the Ashworth party, Sir James among them.
Miss King stood with an astonishingly pretty fair-haired lady, and Elizabeth went towards the pair of them, determinedly tamping down her anger and hoping the heat on her cheeks would fade.
Miss King introduced the young lady as Miss Goddard, the youngest of all the Goddard family. She was very sweet and good-humoured, complimenting Longbourn and Elizabeth effusively. “Your gown is absolutely charming and suits you very well.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said. “I have never before had a chiffon silk gown, however, and I quite fear I shall damage or stain it before dinner is even served.”
“Are you well?” Miss King enquired kindly. “You seem a little flushed.”
“I am well, only a bit…” Elizabeth glanced over to where Charlotte and Mr Collins stood in apparent contemplation of a painting on the wall, one of Mr Bennet’s recent acquisitions. “Vexed.”
“I see,” said Miss King while her and Miss Goddard’s eyes both followed her gaze.
Elizabeth winced, recognising she had been too obvious. “A friend who has seen you through your girlhood is both an advantage and disadvantage,” she said lightly. “One tends to make free with advisements.”
“Well, you know what they say of opinions,” said Miss Goddard.
Elizabeth gave her an enquiring look.
Miss Goddard smirked and blushed but still said, “Opinions are like chamber pots; we all have them and yet most are better left unmentioned.”
The two ladies laughed, and Elizabeth’s spirits were immediately improved.
They were slightly late to arrive at Longbourn, thanks to Miss Bingley.
Darcy paced the entry hall, swearing several times over that he was going to take Georgiana and depart, but Georgiana was none too quick to descend herself.
In fact she came strolling down, arm in arm with Miss Bingley.
The two had been, evidently, in deep conversation, for Miss Bingley was proclaiming, “…never could see any beauty in her. Her face is too thin; her complexion has no brilliancy; and her features are not at all handsome. How she manages to have so many men dangling after her— Oh! Is everyone ready?”
She looked to Georgiana and giggled. “It seems we are the last to come down.”
“It does not merely seem so, it is so,” Saye retorted impatiently. Saye despised tardiness in others and only excused it in himself. “Might we be off? Or do we have another quarter of an hour’s worth of pacing to endure?”
They exited into the portico and entered the carriage with as much haste as three gentlemen and two ladies could.
It seemed to Darcy to require an eternity of them, and the ride itself was no better, once it had finally commenced.
The carriage wheels turned with maddening deliberation over the rutted country road, each bump and sway a testament to their lateness.
He pressed his lips into a thin line and fixed his gaze upon the passing hedgerows, silently willing the horses to quicken their pace.
Miss Bingley was whispering into his sister’s ear, her voice a sibilant irritation punctuated by cackling giggles. He wondered if he ought to draw Georgiana’s attention away from what was undoubtedly mean-spirited tattle.
“I always thought she was rather pretty,” Georgiana said timidly to Miss Bingley. Darcy had no idea of whom they spoke.
“Pretty?” Miss Bingley tilted her head. “I will grant you, the green sarcenet she wore to Miss Carteret’s lawn party certainly had ambitions in that direction.” Both ladies giggled.
Saye, who had been examining his pocket watch with the sort of theatrical precision that suggested he wished everyone to take note of the gesture, snapped it closed with a decisive click. Then he did it again. And again. And again. A muscle in his temple betrayed his irritation.
“Caroline,” Bingley said with a clearly warning tone. “Perhaps rather than gossip, you should do better to acquaint Miss Darcy with some of those who will be at Longbourn.”
“I have already met them,” said Georgiana quickly. “Save for Miss Elizabeth.”
“So you have,” said Bingley warmly. “They are a merry group, are they not?”
Georgiana cast an uncertain glance at Miss Bingley before saying, “They are lively to be sure.”
This sent Miss Bingley into a gale of giggles which was abruptly cut off by Saye who kicked her, ostensibly accidentally, while shifting in his seat. “I beg your pardon Miss Bingley,” he said, sounding not at all sorry. “I must have got a leg cramp in the half-hour I paced the front hall earlier.”
Darcy sighed heavily, closed his eyes briefly, and wished, not for the first time, that he possessed the power to command both time and horses with equal authority.
“Well, here we are,” Bingley said delightedly. “Into the lane at last!”
Their tardiness meant that they had missed nearly all the time generally spent in the drawing room.
Darcy frowned at this breach of good manners, but there was little time to even consider it before they were shown into the west parlour, where the company were gathered.
It was a smaller room, facing full west, and Darcy imagined it might serve the Bennets as a family gathering room in other circumstances.
It was, alas, a smaller room than their usual drawing room, and the abundance of guests made it loud, overly warm, and exceedingly crowded.
Georgiana, on his arm, was thoroughly cowed and pressed against his side as he greeted his host and hostess, then used the advantage of his height to search for Elizabeth.
When he did at last see her, it was, unfortunately, on the other side of the room. She stood with Miss King and a lady Darcy believed was Miss Goddard; Saye, eschewing all etiquette, had managed to reach them.
“Come,” Darcy said to Georgiana. “I should like to—”
“Surely you do not mean to press through all these people?” Georgiana’s eyes were wide as she clung to him like a small child.
“I certainly do,” he said with a reassuring laugh. “Do not quail, my dear; the parties in London are far worse than this. A lady must learn to jostle and be jostled with elegance.”
“Very well,” she nearly whispered.