4. Chapter Four
Another gentleman entered the assembly and took his time to survey the crowd, smiling wide when he saw his target. Ever the diligent host, Sir William spotted the stranger in their midst and approached him.
“Welcome, sir. You are new to our little assembly. I am the host of this event, Sir William Lucas.”
“I am Edmund Fitzwilliam, kind sir.”
“Are you new to Meryton, Mr. Fitzwilliam? Do you have any friends or family who reside here?”
“My cousin is a guest of Mr. Bingley and I have come to join him.”
“Is your cousin Mr. Hurst, or Mr. Darcy?”
“Mr. Darcy.” Ash gave a nod to his cousin on the dance floor. “He is the tall dour fellow dancing with Lady Elizabeth.”
“Who is Lady Elizabeth?”
“Pardon my faux pas,” Ash replied smoothly. “For a moment, I thought the lovely young lady was someone I knew from Town. I must have been mistaken.”
“No offense given, sir. It is said everyone has a twin somewhere in the world.”
“I shudder to think there might be another one of me out there,” Ash teased. “I would like to know, is this the first set my cousin danced?”
“Imust beg forgiveness on the part of my mother,” Miss Elizabeth began but stopped when Darcy waved his hand.
“Your mother did nothing which requires forgiveness.”
“She forced you to dance with me, and I know that is the last thing you wish to do.”
They both stepped forward and twirled around each other before moving back into line.
“Please do not think you know my mind, Miss Elizabeth. I am delighted we are dancing and shall enjoy each other’s company during the refreshment break.”
They stepped forward again and facing one another, slightly lifted onto their toes in time with the music.
“You plan to remain at my side?” she teased before stepping back in line.
“I do.”
Shoulder to shoulder, hands entwined, they rotated slowly three times. The enticing scent of lavender drifted up between them.
“Are you not afraid this poor garden variety flower might wither and wilt in your cold, austere company?”
“Before I respond, please know I am not in any way insulting you, however… garden flowers are more sturdy than exotic species, which require far too much attention. A little bit of frost would not stop you from remaining fresh and beautiful, Miss Elizabeth.”
“You are a rogue,” she murmured, pulling away from him slightly.
His instinct was to allow his body to follow hers. To curve into her form and hold her close. Alarmed at his visceral reaction, he released his light grip and stepped back in line.
“Not a rogue, merely a gentleman who is intrigued, and this is a new experience for me.”
The dance ended and after a smattering of applause, they joined Miss Hamilton standing next to Bingley, who conversed with an animated Sir William Lucas. As they were somewhat set apart from the other patrons of the assembly, and knowing he may not get another opportunity to put forward a genuine apology for his behavior, Darcy cleared his throat bringing the attention of both sisters to him.
“Miss Elizabeth, first and foremost I have truly regretted the rude manner in which I addressed you at Lady Montrose’s ball. My comments were uncalled for and ungentlemanly. Since that occasion, I have often thought on this with much remorse and made a solemn promise to myself that if the opportunity presented itself, I would apologize immediately with no expectation of forgiveness.”
“Might I inquire as to the reason why you are so determined to render a second apology?”
“Not long after our less-than-illustrious introduction, I was having breakfast with my sister, who is not yet sixteen and very shy. I was struck with the thought of how she would have been devastated if some unknown gentleman said something similar about her. She very likely would have burst into tears. My comments were obnoxious and rude and no woman deserved them.”
“A fine answer, Mr. Darcy. One that I believe to be heartfelt and true.” Elizabeth gave him a small smile. A real one this time. “You have my forgiveness in this matter.”
“Thank you, Lady... Miss Elizabeth.” He gave her another half-bow and flicked a gaze at Miss Hamilton. “Might I beg a proper introduction to your sister?”
“Which one? I have four.”
Darcy felt a thrill of satisfaction course through him at her teasing and the way her emerald eyes sparkled.
“The sister standing next to you who witnessed me eat humble pie.”
“Mr. Darcy, may I present to you my eldest sister, Lady Jane Hamilton – although she is better known as Miss Hamilton when we are in Hertfordshire.” Elizabeth gave her sister a warm look of affection. “Jane, this is Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire. He is our cousin down the Fitzwilliam side of the family.”
“Mr. Darcy,” Jane said with a shallow dip of a curtsy to his polite half bow.
“Miss Hamilton.”
“Oh, there you are Mr. Darcy!” Their conversation was interrupted by Miss Bingley who came alongside and wrapped her arm around his, paying no mind to the two ladies standing with him and her brother. “I thought you may have scurried back to Netherfield upon discovering how dreadfully pastoral this assembly was. However, I am glad you did not abscond from our presence, and may now escort me to the little room they have set aside for what I presume will be mediocre refreshments.”
Darcy’s back straightened even further at her bold assumption and he disengaged his arm from hers.
“I am already escorting Miss Elizabeth, Madam.”
His harsh tone must have caught Bingley’s ear because he turned his attention from Sir Lucas back to their small group.
“Louisa and Hurst promised to save a place for you, Caroline. I believe they are already in the adjacent room,” he said to his sister, completely ignoring her burning glare. “Come, Miss Hamilton, let us secure our seats before they are all taken.”
Bingley offered his arm to Miss Hamilton and Darcy did the same for Miss Elizabeth. They allowed the Hamilton sisters to decide where they would sit, and then he and his friend joined the line of men getting glasses of punch and small cakes for their respective partners.
Bingley could not decide, so Darcy left him wavering and made his way back to Elizabeth. When he neared their table, he overheard part of her conversation with an older gentleman he assumed was her father.
“She had a slight episode. It is just that he looks so much like—” Her words ceased upon noticing Darcy’s approach. “Papa, may I introduce you to one of my very distant cousins, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire? His mother’s aunt, Lady Minerva Fitzwilliam was Grandfather Hamilton’s wife.”
Upon hearing the connection, Darcy realized why Lady Jane had seemed so familiar. She was the exact image of his great-aunt. Both men gave each other a courteous nod of acknowledgment.
“Mr. Darcy, this is my step-father, Mr. Thomas Bennet of Longbourn.”
“Mr. Bennet, the pleasure of making your acquaintance is mine.”
“Nicely said, young man.” Mr. Bennet waited until he had taken his seat before continuing the conversation. “Lizzy tells me you met her a few months ago in London.”
“I did.”
“She also said you were an avid gardener. Is this true?”
Darcy shot a quick look at Miss Elizabeth, but she was concentrating on her plate of treats, deciding which to eat first. At least, she gave the appearance of checking out her food. The slight lift to one corner of her mouth told a different story. She was very pleased her father was trying to goad him into… into what, he did not know.
“As a gentleman farmer, I am always looking for new hardy species to improve the beauty of my estate in Derbyshire.”
“Not interested in the local flora and fauna to be found in the adjoining Peak District?”
“I have always thought I would keep to what is tested and true for our harsher climate.” Darcy heard a sniff of disdain from his dining partner. “However, at this juncture of my life, I am not averse to transplanting a simple garden variety flower into my home soil. I have not yet decided. Time alone will tell me if it is a worthwhile endeavor.”
Bennet smiled widely at him.
“I wish you much success in honing your husbandry skills.”
Elizabeth clasped her hands together on her lap and glared at them both.
“This conversation is over,” she declared in a firm voice. “Please find something else to discuss or I will be forced to send a footman to Longbourn and invite Lydia to join us.”
“Dear God in Heaven.” Bennet visibly shuddered. “You would not be so cruel.”
“Test me not, Father,” Elizabeth warned.
“Lydia?” Darcy queried.
“My youngest daughter. She and her next eldest sister Kitty are two of the silliest girls in all of England. If you wish to hear nothing except dissertations on lace, ribbons, and bonnets, they are the girls for you, sir. Otherwise, avoid them at all costs.”
“Thank you for the warning, Mr. Bennet.” Darcy slid a sly glance at Elizabeth who had a sweet but grumpy expression on her face. “Would any of their bonnets have lavender sprigs on them? I find I am becoming quite fond of this scent, even though it is a common garden variety of plant.”
Elizabeth started to rise from her seat, making Darcy wish he had not teased her further, but she sat down when Jane joined them, having returned from the lady’s withdrawing room.
“Have you been introduced to your cousin?” Bennet asked his eldest stepdaughter.
“Lizzy made the introductions before we joined you for supper.” Jane settled herself more comfortably on the chair. “What think you of our little assembly so far, Mr. Darcy?”
“More delightful than I expected,” he replied truthfully. “This reminds me of the small town which is only five miles from my estate. They often have local assemblies, and I attend them when I can.”
“It is always good to show your support in non-tangible ways.”
“Yes, Lambton is a thriving community.”
“Lambton!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Our aunt is from Lambton. Mayhap you know her.”
“What is her name?”
“You would have known her as Miss Madeline Davies. Her father was the rector.”
“I do know Miss Davies and her father. I did not know she had married.”
“She and Uncle Edward have been married about ten years now.”
“When next you write or see her, please extend my congratulations. My father would have been so pleased to know his little Maddie is happily married.”
“Little Maddie?”
“Yes.” Darcy laughed softly. “When my father was alive, he always made sure he had a treat in his pocket for the rector’s daughter. She was a precocious child who grew into a lovely lady. Your uncle is a lucky man.”
“Well, Mr. Darcy. It seems like sturdy flowers can be also transplanted to hotter climates and thrive,” Bennet chortled, almost laughing out loud when his Lizzy softly exclaimed, ‘Papa!’
“What are we discussing?” Jane asked, having no idea the quagmire she had wandered into.
“Husbandry,” Bennet said, without further clarification.
“I am surprised. You and Lizzy usually prefer to speak of books and have long conversations over philosophical nonsense.”
“Philosophy is never nonsense,” Bennet declared and leaned toward Mr. Darcy. “Do you see the parallel in our society to Plato’s vision of a republic where the masses were divided into gold, silver, and bronze spheres?”
Soon their conversation swirled around Plato, Sophocles, and other learned scholars until Bingley returned with Miss Hamilton’s plate of treats.
“Aword of caution, my friend.”
Thomas Bennet, preparing to follow his wife and daughters back into the assembly room, halted when his closest friend stepped in his way. The twinkle in Sir Williams’ eyes and his ready smile was not in evidence. A rare event with this genial man.
“What is it, Lucas?”
“Lord Matlock’s heir, Viscount Ashton, arrived during the supper set. He recognized your daughter as Lady Elizabeth.” At Bennet’s slight intake of breath, Sir William continued. “I thought you should know.”
“Did anyone else hear your conversation?”
“Not that I am aware.” Sir William’s expression turned pensive. “Other than his original fauxpas, he was more interested in how many sets his cousin Darcy had danced. He was most insistent on knowing.”
“Now you know why I abhor Town. I think the bad air destroys whatever good sense they own and makes them a bit crazy.” Bennet chuckled, then sobered. “Thank you, Lucas. I know you have my step-children’s best interests at heart.”
Darcy escorted Mrs. Hurst to the top of the line and nearly stopped mid-step. Before him stood Viscount Ashton and across from him was Jane Hamilton. As they waited for the music to start, Darcy dared to speak in low undertones.
“What are you doing here?”
“I am ensuring you abide by the rules of the wager.”
“When did you arrive?”
“In time to see you dancing the supper set with Lady Elizabeth. Nicely done, old man. Finally, an eligible young woman instead of a married one.”
“She has asked we refer to her as Miss Elizabeth. For reasons of which I am not aware, she and her sister,” – Darcy gave a subtle nod in the direction of Jane – “do not use their titles here. Please be careful and respect their wishes.”
“I have already learned that. Sir William was confused when I recognized Lady You Know Who.” Ash lifted his hand to stave off any comment. “I pretended I thought she was someone I knew from Town. I am sure he put no weight on my words.”
“Until we know the reason for their subterfuge, let us pray he made no note of it.”
The dance concluded and while Ashton escorted Jane to her mother’s side, Darcy escorted Mrs. Hurst back to her husband. He turned to search the room, inherently looking for Elizabeth when Miss Bingley latched onto his arm like an unwanted leech.
“When will this interminable evening end?” she groused and tightened her grip. “The insipidity of conversation and the noise from a group of men the villagers dare call musicians are enough to drive one to Bedlam in a fast carriage.”
“Miss Bingley,” Darcy said as he pried her fingers loose from his arm. “The residents of this small town do not deserve to be insulted in such a grievous manner.”
“Oh, please!” she scoffed. “There are only one or two gentlemen here – and I use that term lightly – along with a puffed-up fool who was knighted and thinks he is the unheralded ruler of this backwater fiefdom.”
“Your brother and by extension, you and your sister, are now one of the principal families in Meryton, along with the Lucas and Bennet families. You are expected to lead by example in polite courtesy toward others.”
“Speaking of ‘principal’ families, I learned a very interesting piece of news this evening,” Miss Bingley said, her tone one of pure derision. “The angel my brother salivates over is nothing more than the offspring of a deceased rector. Can you imagine the Bennet family trying to pass off Miss Jane Hamilton and her pitiful sister, Miss Eliza as respectable daughters of a gentleman? We must ensure Charles does not lose his head over someone so far beneath us in wealth and status.”
“You should learn to curb your tongue, Miss Bingley.” Darcy took a determined step away from her, putting more space between them. “You never know who you might insult with your unkind words.”
He should know. His words had bit him hard in the derriere, ironically about the same lady.
“There is no one in this wilderness to impress, Mr. Darcy. We do not need to exhaust our resources trying to make friends. I am certain Charles will give up the lease before the month is complete. There is nothing to do here. We have no mutual friends, no common interests… in short, these people offer us nothing to entice us into a further acquaintance.”
“And you came to this conclusion without spending one night in your new home?”
“Trust me, Mr. Darcy. I came to this conclusion before we had even left London.”
Darcy shook his head.
“I feel sorry for you, Miss Bingley. Having a closed mind is not a strength. It is a willful weakness and you will rue the day you pronounced such harsh judgments on people you had not even met.”
He gave her a curt bow and moved to the other side of the room, where Ash joined him.
“You are in a foul mood,” Ashton observed. “As you have just bolted from Miss Bingley’s side, I can safely assume she spouted more inane balderdash about backwater towns and lack of proper society.”
“You are the master of understatement.” Darcy slid his cousin a sideways glance. “Bingley’s sister has taken a decided dislike to our country cousins.”
“Ah, but she does not know they are our cousins, correct?”
“No, she does not and I am uncertain if we are at liberty to tell her. Until we know the reason why our cousins do not use their titles here, we must abide by the terms as we know them.”
“I have no problem with calling the delectable Jane Hamilton anything she wants. Is not a golden rose still a rose by any other name?”
“Why do you always mangle the bard’s words?”
“Because it annoys you.” Ash tilted his head and perused his somber cousin. “The terms of the wager were met tonight. I shall allow their small reception to stand as the supper set.”
“Thank you,” Darcy replied, his tone as dry as the Sahara.
“No need to get all uppity, I want you to succeed. I know you love that horse and it would gut you to part with him.”
“I am not sure if I should be grateful or terrified.”
“According to my tally, you have two more balls to attend, which you cannot do here in Hertfordshire.”
“Bingley has promised to host a ball in November.”
“He did? Good chap, but that still leaves one. Lady Kildair is hosting her annual Christmas ball on the tenth of December, which is very close to the date you originally planned to return to Town.”
“My plans are fluid right now.”
Ash’s brow lifted in amusement.
“Are they now?”
Darcy watched Miss Elizabeth dancing with Bingley and ignored his cousin as best he could in such close quarters.
“They are,” he stated firmly.
Ash remained silent for a few moments, noting the object of his focused attention, then said, “Frankly, I do not blame you. She is lovely.”
“She does not like me very much.”
“Nothing you cannot fix.”
Darcy slid a glance at his cousin who was trying very hard not to smile.
“I am not known for going around complimenting young ladies.”
“That is true.”
“I do not know where to start.”
Ash gave him a nudge with his elbow.
“You start at the beginning. It is like building a house. You need a strong foundation before you can add walls. Become her friend.”
“Good advice. When do you plan on building your house?” he teased.
Ashton gave a small start, then recovered enough to reply smoothly, “I am, at this moment, simply perusing a beautiful plot of land.”
Darcy laughed out loud, which caught the attention of Miss Bingley who had followed them across the room.
“What is it that makes you laugh so freely, Mr. Darcy? Come, I must have my share of the conversation.”
“Merciful heavens, she is very much like Aunt Catherine,” Ash said, in a sotto voice.
“We were talking about houses,” Darcy said, ignoring the muffled snort from his now least favorite cousin.
From there, Miss Bingley launched in a rapturous oration about the magnificence of Pemberley, stopping only when the assembly ended and they departed for Netherfield.