Chapter Fifteen
Dinner Companions
Lizzy did not see Darcy the following day until the party from Netherfield arrived for dinner.
She had not expected to do so and therefore was only somewhat disappointed.
Mama kept all of her daughters busy through the day as the family prepared for their guests.
“I will not have you hidden away in your room reading, as you did yesterday, young lady. It will not do at all, for you are needed around the house.” Instead of “reading in her room,” Lizzy was directed to see to the flowers for dinner.
Longbourn boasted a small greenhouse, which provided some of the blooms the family enjoyed through the cooler months, and Elizabeth had shown some aptitude for selecting and arranging complementary flowers in attractive displays.
She enjoyed this work and was happy to sit down with a table of cuttings and a selection of vases and urns in which to display her creations.
The contemplative nature of the task also gave her time to think—too much time, perhaps, for her mind kept straying from the lilies, wisteria, carnations, and geraniums scattered before her, tending instead towards a certain gentleman residing at an estate only three miles away.
By all rights, they should never have spent the day as they did, alone and unchaperoned.
Although Mr. Darcy had been a perfect gentleman and had not given her a moment’s alarm, rumours could be more dangerous than knives, and more able to destroy lives in an instant.
Even for the unimportant daughter of an inconsequential country squire, the hint of an indiscretion could destroy a family’s standing in local society and quite ruin the chances of all unwed siblings.
And yet, no matter the risks, no matter the severity of the consequences should she be found out, she could not regret a minute she had spent with him.
When, on the drive back to Netherfield, he had inadvertently grabbed her hand and then kept it in his, she had never wanted him to release her.
She had, for that moment, felt as strong and powerful as a titan, able to soar like the birds.
She had admitted to herself that she liked him very much and the notion that he liked her as well—that he genuinely liked her and was not using her as a tool to reach her father—filled her with an unexpected joy.
Still, it was a relief that there had been no rumours or hints of gossip.
His was a flirtation for her to enjoy whilst it lasted; she dared not harbour any hopes that a gentleman as grand as Mr. Darcy would consider marrying her.
His family would have expectations of him, even were he to consider lowering himself to offer for her.
A compromise would only harm her. But there is no speed greater than that of idle chatter, and if a tale of Miss Elizabeth entertaining Mr. Darcy were to have emerged, she would have heard it by now. Her reputation was safe.
“Lizzy, are you finished with the flowers yet? Mama wants to know which linens to use.” She glanced up to see Lydia standing in the doorway, hands upon her hips, lips curled in impatience.
“One more vase, Lydia,” she breathed. “Can you not tell Mama which colours I have used and let her choose on that basis? And why such a hurry? We do not expect our guests for several hours yet.”
Her sister emitted a rather unladylike snort. “Mama says I may go into the village with Kitty if all the places are set before noon, for she shan’t then need me until it is time to dress. And I wish to know what colour ribbon I should get for my hair and thought it best to match the flowers.”
“You are going to buy new ribbons?” She blew a wisp of hair out of her face and shook her head. “Did you not just get some yesterday?”
“Silly Lizzy! ‘Twas the day before yesterday, and I have decided I need new ones, for not even the ones Kitty bought will do. Besides which, the officers sometimes walk through, and they look so smart in their red coats!” She giggled, suddenly very much the child she was, despite her interest in smartly clad soldiers.
How many times had Lizzy argued with Papa to keep a firmer hand on his youngest daughter?
For Lydia would seek trouble wherever she could find it, and Kitty, only a year older but less bold in temperament, would follow along in Lydia’s wake.
She was about to rise from her task to talk to Papa once more about the impropriety of her sisters’ behaviour, but then recalled her own improper activities and held her tongue.
She could scarcely conscience calling out her sister when she had behaved far worse.
With a muttered prayer of relief that her afternoon with Mr. Darcy had gone unremarked, she watched Lydia skip away.
“Lizzy!” She rolled her eyes at her mother’s strident voice.
“Yes, Mama. I am finishing the final vase.” Her mother bustled into the room as she breathed the last word, wringing her hands and looking quite flustered.
“Well it certainly took you long enough, and I have needed these this past half hour. Do you know how this vexes me? How many hours do you need to fill six vases of flowers? They do look handsome, though. Well, I suppose it is time well enough spent.
“But listen, this is no time for dilly-dallying.
I need your help, for everything has changed, and I will never manage everything on time.
We need to set three extra places for dinner.
.. no, four... or is it six? Oh, I am so troubled, for all of my arrangements are for nought, and we must redo everything.
I must speak to Mrs. Hill at once and then see Cook to inform her of the change.
“And we shall have to redo the seating arrangements, for we are expecting a most esteemed guest, and I cannot think how to seat him. Oh, my nerves! There is so very much to do! And be certain to wear your green gown, for you look very fine in it, and I will not have my daughters looking shabby before one such as he. But Lizzy, see to the maids! Quickly, girl! Oh, whatever shall we do? Hill! Hill!”
It took some minutes to extract the gist of the matter, which was achieved with a cup of tea, a fan, and a vial of smelling salts. Eventually the tale emerged.
When first the invitation had been accepted, Mr. Bingley’s brother-in-law was unable to attend, since he had been invited to cards at the barracks with Colonel Forster.
That engagement had fallen through, however, and Mr. Hurst had belatedly extended his acceptance.
This caused Mama no end of grief, for now the small party would number thirteen, which was a highly inauspicious number for dinner.
She had called at once upon her friend Lady Lucas to extend the invitation there.
Sir William, Lady Lucas, and Charlotte brought the number to sixteen, which was far preferable, and all seemed well.
Then, not ten minutes after she had returned home from her errand, Mr. Bingley had sent a messenger requesting permission to add a guest to the party.
It seemed that Mr. Darcy’s cousin had appeared at Netherfield unexpectedly and was to stay for some days.
“I do not know how to place him,” Mama fluttered, “for Mr. Bingley tells me he is the son of an earl, but also a colonel. Which rank has precedence? Oh, Lizzy, I am all afluster over this. Do they think nothing of my nerves?”
It took a while for Elizabeth to assure her mother that both ranks were higher than anybody else’s in the house and therefore he could be seated accordingly.
“But what of Colonel Hastings? Where does he sit? I do not know his parentage.”
“You have invited Colonel Hastings as well?” She referred to the commanding officer of the second regiment of militia training in the neighbourhood. The dinner party was rapidly expanding in scope from a simple dinner to a grand affair.
“Well, of course, for you must know that the colonel and Mr. Darcy have formed a friendship, and now it seems that he and Colonel Fitzwilliam are well acquainted as well. Shall I invite Colonel and Mrs. Forster too then? I think I must. Oh, my nerves! Do they not think of my nerves? Hill! Hill!” Whereupon she struggled to her feet and ran off to find the housekeeper, whose calm competence was equal to any occasion.
When the final arrangements were set, there were seven additional people expected to dinner, bringing the total to the respectable number of twenty: Seven Bennets, Mr. Collins, the three Lucases, Mr. Bingley and his sister, Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, Mr. Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, Colonel Hastings, and Colonel and Mrs. Forster.
It seemed that whatever had caused Colonel Forster to cancel his arrangement with Mr. Hurst had been resolved in favour of Mrs. Bennet’s reputation as a hostess.
Cook expressed her displeasure at the additional guests in tones that could be heard through the house, but Lizzy knew that the meal she would prepare would be exemplary and would display no evidence of last-moment changes.
For all her nerves and vexations, Mama ran an excellent household.