Chapter Nineteen
M rs. Bennet considered this evening to be no different from the many other evenings the family had spent at Netherfield since Jane’s most fortunate marriage. She did not bother herself about her daughters’ attire, other than to admonish them to not wear the same dresses they had worn to Netherfield the previous week. Elizabeth had been warned by Jane that there was a special guest at Netherfield that evening, but she had elected not to enlighten her mother on the subject.
The Bennet women all shared a single lady’s maid, Kate. Poor Kate was usually too busy keeping up with the demands made on her by Mrs. Bennet to be of much help to the young ladies of the house, so Elizabeth generally confined herself to simple hairstyles that she could manage on her own. But tonight must be different.
Elizabeth found Kate on the stairs, arms full of fresh laundry. “Kate, can you help me with my hair?”
“Of course, miss, but I must take care of your mother first.”
“Very well, Kate; I will wait for you.”
The minutes dragged on. Elizabeth, sitting at her dressing table in her chemise, was becoming concerned that she would end up going to Netherfield with her hair hanging down her back. She began to pin it up herself, when Kate finally knocked and walked in.
“I am sorry, miss, she had a hundred things for me to do,”
“I am sure she did, Kate, and I am sorry to be a bother, but –“
Kate smiled. “Miss Elizabeth, I know that Mr. Darcy is at Netherfield tonight and I know that you met him at Hunsford when you visited Mrs. Collins. Of course you want to look your very best!”
Elizabeth stared at Kate. “How is it that you know more than my own parents?”
Kate just shrugged, and hummed a tune as she coaxed Elizabeth’s curls into a becoming style that gave her height and yet framed her face. “What will you wear?’
“That.” Elizabeth pointed to a willow green gown lying flat on the bed. She had managed the darker green embroidery on the sleeves herself, and she was proud of her efforts.
“What would you think of this in your hair, then?” Kate had rummaged through Elizabeth’s box of ribbons and was holding up a gold ribbon.
“I thought it perhaps too gaudy…?” Elizabeth hesitated.
“Not at all,” Kate assured her. “This Mr. Darcy is wealthy, is he not?”
“He is, Kate, yes.”
“There you have it, then.” Brooking no further discussion, Kate pinned the ribbon in place. “Come, I will help you dress.”
When Elizabeth was finally able to look at herself in the mirror, she was not at all displeased with the results. “Thank you, Kate. I believe I now feel equal to meeting Mr. Darcy again!”
“Is it not astonishing how differently we feel, depending on what we are wearing?” Kate asked.
“Yes, but is it not rather shallow?”
“Perhaps, but it is human nature, I think,” Kate replied. “People want to know who they are speaking with, so they look at us and they listen to us, so that they might know as quickly as may be whether we are master or servant, educated or ignorant. Dress and speech create all-important first impressions.”
“You are a philosopher, Kate, and wise for your years,” Elizabeth said.
The girl blushed. “I think about things, Miss Elizabeth, that is all. I hope your evening is everything you hope for.”
Elizabeth made her way downstairs and stopped at her father’s study. She knocked and entered, finding him with his head buried in a book. “Should you not be getting dressed, Papa?” she enquired.
“I did not think I needed to change, Lizzy, but looking at you, I am not so certain. You look very elegant, indeed! Is there a reason for this finery?”
“Papa, did you know that Mr. Bingley has a visitor who will be with us at dinner tonight?”
“I did not, which means that your mother does not know.” He eyed his daughter knowingly.
Elizabeth shrugged, smiling.
Mr. Bennet laughed. “You did not wish to send her nerves a-flutter; I thank you for your thoughtfulness, Lizzy!”
“Oddly enough, though, Kate knew all about it. But to the point, Papa, I met this visitor when I was at Hunsford.”
“Oh, is it Mr. Darcy who has come to visit, then?”
“It is, yes.”
“And have you hopes of this gentleman, Lizzy?”
Elizabeth blushed. “Not hopes, exactly, but –“
“But you like him.”
“I do like him and I think you will like him as well. Papa, please, can you attempt to curb my younger sisters at dinner tonight?”
“I believe this Mr. Darcy has relatives enough to blush for.” Mr. Bennet’s words were mild, but his tone severe.
“He does, but I did not think we needed to compete for the title of who has the worst relatives!” Elizabeth spoke heatedly.
“Lizzy, that is unkind and wrong. Your two youngest sisters are young and foolish, there can be no doubt of it. But Mr. Darcy’s aunt is an adult, as well as a titled lady and the mistress of an estate. Her behaviour to you was unforgiveable. Where were her manners? Her upbringing? I cannot let you compare Kitty and Lydia, foolish though they are, with the infamous Lady Catherine.”
Elizabeth swallowed. “You are right, Papa. I am sorry. It is just that it is hard to watch people react to my sisters’ behaviour.”
“Do you judge Mr. Darcy by his aunt’s behaviour?”
“Of course not.”
“Then let us hope that Mr. Darcy is equally wise, and does not judge you by your sisters’ behaviour. If he is not that acute, then he is not the man for you. And now, given that this dinner is more important than I had first understood, I will go to my room and change into my own finery.”
As he rose from his chair, Elizabeth went to him and hugged him hard. He murmured, “My dearest Lizzy,” into her hair before she released him and made her way to the parlour.
Mary was sitting with a book; she glanced up as Elizabeth walked in. “You look lovely, Lizzy,” she said. “Is there something special happening tonight?”
Elizabeth replied, airily, “Mr. Bingley has a guest, you know.”
Mary closed her book. “I did not know, and I suspect Mama did not know, either.”
“Kate knew all about it, so I assumed Mama did as well.” Elizabeth’s tone was light.
Mary eyed her sister carefully. “I do not believe you, Lizzy.”
“And I suspect she will not either, but it is too late to do anything about it now.” Elizabeth tried not to smile.
The furor began the moment Mrs. Bennet walked into the parlour and caught sight of her second daughter attired in one of her best gowns, hair in an elaborately formed circlet, curls intertwined with a heretofore unseen gold ribbon. “A gold ribbon, Lizzy?”
“I thought you would want me to make a good impression on Mr. Bingley’s guest, Mama.”
“Mr. Bingley’s guest? Whatever do you mean?”
“Why, Mr. Bingley’s friend, Mr. Darcy, has arrived and will be at dinner tonight.”
“Mr. Darcy? The rich one who was supposed to come last fall?”
“The very one.”
“And how did you know this, pray?”
“Jane told me; she knew that I had met Mr. Darcy at Hunsford.” There was no point in lying, as Jane would tell the truth.
“And why did you not tell me?”
“Mama, you would have become anxious, you know that you would, and I thought to give your poor nerves a rest. There; am I not a thoughtful daughter?”
“Had I known, I would have…” Mrs. Bennet trailed off.
“You would have what, Mama? Mr. Darcy is not interested in children, so it matters not what Kitty and Lydia wear, and Mary here is not interested in men. As you see, I am dressed for the occasion, and Kate even helped me with my hair. So everything that you would have done has, in fact, already been done, with no ill effects on your nerves.”
Mrs. Bennet scowled at Elizabeth. “I expect you to keep me informed of these things!”
“I shall in the future, Mama, I promise.”
Mr. Bennet walked into the parlour. “Are we all ready, then?”
Mrs. Bennet stared at him. “You are rather finely dressed, Mr. Bennet!” she exclaimed.
“Well, my dear, it occurred to me that you always look so elegant; the least I can do is to not appear shabby by your side,” he replied.
“Hmph,” was his spouse’s only response, as she sailed into the entryway and then out to the waiting carriage.
“Well done, Papa,” Elizabeth whispered as they walked outside together.