Chapter Three #2
Lizzy smiled at the thought of the normally affable Sir William being anything other than gregarious and cheerful, but this diversion was short-lived.
“Papa was likewise. It has been years already since the council began to meet to discuss improvements, and always there was the problem of insufficient funds. And then, suddenly...” her voice trailed off.
“Suddenly the work was begun and completed, and here we are, enjoying the first ball of the season in the improved space,” Charlotte finished Lizzy’s thought.
“Do you ever wonder,” Lizzy’s eyes stared into the darkness beyond the lights of the assembly hall, “where that money came from? Papa tells me time and again not to bother myself with such questions, that these are not the concerns of gentlewomen, but if ever we are to run households or manage estates, we must know such things. Have you...” her voice dropped to a whisper, “have you heard of any untoward activities about Meryton, that might explain such an unexpected presence of funds?”
Charlotte’s voice was confused. “Lizzy? Whatever can you be getting at?”
Elizabeth allowed her eyes to roam the dark silhouettes of the rooftops of the village’s buildings as they melted into the inky depths of the night sky.
She stared silently into the night for a moment, then sighed, “Oh, I don't even know myself, Charlotte. Something just seems not quite right. It is not only the improved assembly rooms, but Papa has begun to hire workers to make repairs to the cottages on the estate—”
“‘Tis his responsibility as the landowner, Lizzy,” came the reasonable reply.
“He has always complained before of a shortage of funds, which prevented him from undertaking all but the most necessary of tasks...”
“The harvest was good last year, and many farmers had abundant wheat to sell. Or perhaps his investments have been especially profitable.” Charlotte screwed her brow again.
“More likely, the two regiments of militia have done their part to swell the coffers of the village,” she teased.
“Not just one set of officers with coin to spend and a need for ale and trinkets, but two!”
“You are correct,” Lizzy laughed her reply, “and the two regiments keep the Gipsies from bothering the townsfolk. Not to mention the most important matter of all, to hear Mama speak at least. For Netherfield Hall has been let at last, and the tenant has been spending a goodly part of his fortune on meat and bread and servants to feed and tend to his party.” A noise from the courtyard caught her attention, and she gazed down to see a carriage emerge from the high street and stop in front of the newly improved buildings.
“See, there they are now! Shall we go and meet the very people whose custom in town shall pay for these magnificent mirrors?”
Charlotte chuckled in response and accepted the elbow Lizzy held out to her, and thus linked arm in arm, the two friends returned to the noise and revelry of the assembly ball.
A wave of whispers preceded the party from Netherfield by some minutes.
Lizzy caught snatches of one conversation and then another and then another.
Mr. Bingley—for that was the new tenant’s name—was thought to have five thousand pounds a year, and with that fortune well could he afford all the food and delicacies he had been paying for in the village shops!
Neither was he alone, for yesterday’s rumours had declared he was recently joined by a party from London of seven ladies and five gentlemen!
And, so today’s rumours went, another guest had arrived this very morning!
This must be the man who had so interrupted Lizzy’s solitude on her morning ramble.
As Lizzy listened, the gossip continued.
Mr. Bingley’s sister, said Lady Lucas, was to keep house for him, and well accustomed was she to the fineries and elegant manners of Town, hence the need for so well-staffed a household.
This was a fine thing for the young girls and lads of Meryton, who would be bringing home much-valued coin for their efforts, no matter the ostentatiousness of Miss Bingley’s requirements.
“Is he handsome?” one matron whispered to a friend.
“I have not seen him,” her companion replied, “but Mrs. Smythe said he is.”
“Oh, yes, I saw him whilst I was at the milliners and he was inquiring at the inn over hiring stable hands,” Mrs. Smythe was quick to add.
“He was handsome indeed. Very handsome!” How Mrs. Smythe could overhear Mr. Bingley’s inquiries at the inn from the interior of the milliner’s shop, Lizzy could not quite envisage, but she imagined the lady’s business suddenly took her across the street.
“Oh, what a grand thing for my Jane!”
Lizzy groaned. That voice could only belong to her mother, who had just announced her expectations to the entire gathering of the village.
Before she could move towards her mother to offer some remark in the hopes of distracting her from these comments, the grand double doors to the room swung open, and the hall fell silent.
Lizzy craned her neck and stood as tall as her average height would allow as she sought to catch her first glance of this illustrious and storied party.
What she saw was disappointing. Rather than the seven ladies and five gentlemen—or was it nine ladies and ten gentleman who were expected?
—she spied only one man with two ladies at his side.
The man was, to give him his full due, handsome and most beautifully dressed with his hair cut to fall just so across his broad forehead, giving all the more glory to his bright eyes and wide smile.
“He seems pleasant enough at a glance,” Elizabeth whispered to her friend.
The ladies, one hanging onto each elbow, painted a different picture.
Both were very lovely and favoured the gentleman enough in colouring and features that they must be his sisters.
But where the man looked about the hall with wide eyes that reflected his genuine grin, the ladies’ eyes were narrow, their mouths set in determined disapproval of what they might see.
“Is that the latest hairstyle from London?” Charlotte whispered back. “The taller one, to his left. It is rather... elaborate, is it not?”
“Elaborate indeed! How many hours must her poor maid have spent arranging those tiny curls just so across her forehead? She would do better to have a simpler style and a pleasant expression.” Lizzy screwed her forehead as she contemplated the lady in question.
She looked to be about Lizzy’s own age of twenty years, but her regard seemed cool and aloof, as if she were determined to find no pleasure in anything but her own company.
Perhaps she is merely shy, Lizzy chastised herself, and knows not how to appear to best advantage.
She whispered something of her thoughts to Charlotte, who sniffed. “You are generous to think so. I shall attempt to follow your example.”
The other woman, who seemed the eldest of the three siblings, was equally elaborate in her frock and hair, with a turban-like hat perched atop her fair hair, adorned with an abundance of flowers and feathers.
Her demeanour seemed slightly less haughty than the younger woman’s, and her eyes kept flickering to the side, as if she were looking for someone to appear behind her.
As if echoing Lizzy’s musings, Charlotte whispered, “And what of the others in the party? That lady looks as if she were expecting somebody to be joining her. Surely there were to be more in Mr. Bingley’s household—Mr. Carter at the butcher said they ordered enough meat for a party of at least five, as well as the augmented staff. ”
Any response was forestalled as Sir William strode forward with a mighty guffaw and boisterous words of welcome to the newcomers. Lizzy could not hear the gentleman’s response, but his face split into an even wider smile, if such were possible, and his eyes shone as he surveyed the room.
“There, I see my daughter,” Sir William’s voice carried across the space, “and with her is a dear friend. Come, and I shall make the introductions.”
The gentleman, as Lizzy had surmised, was Mr. Bingley, and the two ladies his sisters.
The younger disdainful woman was Miss Caroline Bingley, and the older was Mrs. Hurst. There seemed no sign at this moment of a Mr. Hurst, and Lizzy wondered if that was whom the lady had been hoping to see behind her.
Bingley made some cryptic comment about “the others making their way as they were able,” and seemed about to ask Lizzy for a dance when Jane glided towards the group from where she had been taking her place on the dance floor.
Sir William made the appropriate introductions, and the offer of a dance was instead granted to the beautiful Jane, who as the older sister, ought rightfully to have taken precedence in any event.
Lizzy could only smile at this, for she knew well that she could not compare to her sister in looks.
“Go, Jane,” she whispered at her sister’s pained expression, “and enjoy your handsome partner. Charlotte and I shall be content to watch and find fault with your steps.” She gave a broad smile that belied her words and watched as Jane and Bingley disappeared into the crowds.
Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst stayed not a moment longer than strict politeness dictated, and soon Charlotte and Lizzy were left standing alone.
Thus it was that as the dance began and all attention fell to couples moving across the chalked floor and the table of refreshments, that Elizabeth noticed the doors open once more, but now only enough to allow two men to enter the room unremarked.
One was of average looks and a somewhat heavy build, dressed in the latest fashions but somehow managing to make them look rumpled and untidy.
He shuffled into the space, holding the door ajar for his companion to follow him.
This second man was tall and elegant in appearance, and where Lizzy could imagine the first to look a mess in the finest the Beau could produce, she thought his companion would make the roughest farmer’s clothing seem like court dress.
His face was handsome and his eyes and hair dark, and he wore an inscrutable expression as if he sought to hide his thoughts behind a marble facade.
What caught her interest more than his face, however, was how he held himself.
He walked with a stiff and careful gait, each step carefully and precisely controlled, and he held one arm tight to his body, elbow bent in the manner of the Corsican Monster.
Surely he could not be another Frenchman!
Lizzy felt her face pale at the very thought, and she grabbed the back of the chair beside her to stop from weaving on her feet.
Nonsense, she admonished herself. He must be anything but, for such a malevolent envoy from the Continent would not announce his allegiance so clearly.
The two men slid along the wall to where a small table with three chairs lay vacant.
The stocky man availed himself of a seat, but the tall and rigid man remained standing.
Lizzy fought a giggle at the image of his snapping clean in two should he attempt to sit, for such a thing would be most inappropriate.
Her mind thus engaged, she stood alongside the wall for the duration of the set of dances, alternately watching her sister and Mr. Bingley on the dance floor and the two strange men across the room.
It was only later, after the set had concluded and another one just about to begin, that Lizzy learned who the men were. As she sat awaiting Charlotte’s return from the refreshment table, Mr. Bingley wandered in her direction with the tall man at his side.
“Come, Darcy,” said he, “I must have you dance.” This rigid man with the stern face then must be Mr. Darcy; Lizzy had heard whispers of an income of ten thousand a year, but had not known which of the two newcomers was the fortunate recipient of such richesse.
By the sour look on the gentleman’s face, however, such wealth did not bring with it happiness.
Bingley had no such complaints, however, and continued his attempts to press his friend to participate in the ball.
“I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.”
Mr. Darcy’s voice was a low growl, tight with displeasure.
It held a familiar edge, which she could not place.
“Bingley, we spoke of this earlier. I certainly shall not. You know I cannot. I am ill-disposed for such activity at this time. At such an assembly as this, on such a day as today, it would be impossible. There is not a woman in the room whom it would not be most painful to stand up with.”
Elizabeth choked back a sound, which, had it emerged, would have been somewhere between a cough and gasp.
What horrid words, and from such a genteel-looking man.
He might not be a Frenchman, but he seemed determined to be equally unwelcome in Meryton.
Elizabeth held back a snort and narrowed her eyes in disgust.
Bingley was less silent with his disapproval. “I would not be so fastidious as you are for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty.”
“You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.
“Oh! she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.”
"Which do you mean?" Turning round, he looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said, “She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to make the activity anything other than agony; and I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.” His words were aimed at Bingley and were bitter.
“Darcy!” Bingley hissed. “You cannot have meant that. And the lady heard you. You are unkind, and unjust. Miss Elizabeth Bennet is one of the prettiest ladies I have had the fortune to meet, and a half hour in her presence would distract a man from a great many ills, would he allow it. You do her wrong. Now I shall return to her sister, who has honoured me with another dance.” With those words, Mr. Bingley spun on his heel and walked away, leaving his haughty friend alone.
And, for the first time that evening, Elizabeth saw a look on his face that was anything other than stony indifference.
It was, she realised with a shock, a look of stunned horror.