Third Dance
The remainder of the dance they sat out found them visited by various acquaintances. Elizabeth was happy to introduce Mr Darcy to those who had not had the opportunity—which amounted to almost everyone since he had been declining introductions and hiding in a corner.
Near the end of the set, Elizabeth asked a question that had been plaguing her. “Mr Darcy, are you still opposed to gossip?”
“Why?”
“A single syllable? Is this all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why a man of sense and education who has lived in the world cannot produce a weightier reply?”
“I thoroughly, conscientiously, and with the utmost humility concede your point, madam! Bingley opines that I fill all my letters with four-syllable words. Perhaps I should write down my replies before delivering them?”
“Oh, heavens no! I am only a poor country miss. I am not sure I know any four-syllable words at all.”
“Are you certain of that, Miss E-liz-a-beth?”
Both dissolved into a minor fit of giggling, though they tried to keep their mirth within reasonable bounds. The exchange was entirely ridiculous, yet diverting as well.
When their amusement had run its course, Elizabeth finally replied, “Perhaps I should answer your question?”
“That might be useful.”
“I must request a rather onerous task of you. I hope you will not mind.”
“Of course, I agree to your suggestion in advance, but you have left me insatiably curious as to the particulars.”
“Would I ask too much if I request you dance two more sets?”
“We have already danced two sets. With a third we would be practically engaged, and a fourth would require grandchildren!”
The man was obviously either completely undone by the very idea, or he was simply being his own brand of impertinent, as his face was rather inscrutable. She could not decide which explanation seemed most likely.
She quickly corrected, “Not with me! Heavens no! I mean with two other ladies, of course.”
Exhaling at the near miss—or more likely being the victim of Mr Darcy’s wicked sense of humour—she added, “Do not be alarmed! I will introduce you to ladies for whom it will not be a punishment to stand up, but I would be much in your debt if you obliged me.”
Darcy studied her. “I will of course do as you ask. I still owe you a rather large debt of civility, though I will not consider this in any way repayment.”
“Oh, no, no, no—this will not do! Our wretched beginning is long forgotten, and I would hope that you have done the same. Let there be no debts of civility between us. You would, however, be doing me a service if you perform this task.”
“How so?”
Elizabeth glanced towards her mother. “Should you perform the chore, it will be good for your reputation, and consequently Mr Bingley’s, because then you will simply be doing your duty.
Gentlemen should dance at assemblies if there are ladies lacking partners, as is common, so you will simply be seen as polite. ”
Darcy agreed with her reasoning; his poor showing at the beginning of the night certainly reflected ill on Bingley, but he was not entirely satisfied with the explanation. “I will of course follow your instructions to the letter, but perhaps you are not quite comprehensive in your rationale?”
With another glance at her mother, Elizabeth added with a pained—or perhaps shamed—expression, “It would also make my life over the next month immeasurably easier if you are not thought to be paying particular attention to me.”
He took her meaning at once. The entire scheme had been ill-conceived.
He was quite satisfied with the way events had transpired, but a mother such as Miss Elizabeth’s would demand that she start throwing herself at him, applying whatever arts and allurements the matron thought appropriate to secure him as a husband.
He could easily imagine how it would play out.
She would be locked in the drawing room awaiting his calls every day, likely forced to endure purchases of new clothing, jewellery, ribbons, bonnets, and other bait.
All this would be delivered with an endless stream of nonsense about how to bring him to the point.
He was loath to subject his worst enemy to such treatment, let alone this young lady.
“My poor manners have obviously placed you in a precarious position, and I shall rectify the situation to the best of my ability immediately. I am at your disposal. Whom do you recommend as dance partners? “
“Have no fear, I will introduce you properly. I suggest Miss Lucas, Miss Golding, and perhaps one of my sisters. I believe that should do the trick.”
“The current set has a quarter hour to go, so we should secure the dances soon.”
Elizabeth agreed. They were about to make their way to where she expected Charlotte to appear when a small commotion at the entryway caught her eye.
Her curiosity piqued, she studied the pair of new arrivals. “Do you know anything about the militia regiment that is to quarter in Meryton for the winter?”
“I do not. Why do you ask?”
Elizabeth nodded towards the door. “I believe their commander is scouting the society in advance. That appears to be a colonel’s uniform, if I am not mistaken. I must say, though; his wife looks very young—she is hardly older than my youngest sister Lydia!”
Not particularly interested in some militia colonel, but aware it might be of importance to the lady, Darcy glanced at the newcomers.
As he turned, Elizabeth got a good look at his expression and was interested to see his face light up in surprise, and perhaps consternation, followed almost immediately by what she was certain was either anger or its younger cousin, annoyance—then it schooled into hard neutrality.
“You are correct that he is a colonel,” Darcy replied stonily, “but he is with the regulars, not militia.”
She was slightly surprised by his in-depth knowledge of military matters. “How can you tell? Are the uniforms diff—”
She never quite got her question out because she unaccountably found herself moving across the floor with her hand on Mr Darcy’s arm without conscious volition.
She had to hurry her steps to look like a lady crossing the floor with some degree of decorum, rather than a trout on a line.
Mr Darcy crossed the floor quickly, but skilfully avoided collisions, weaving a path that evaded the dancers, spectators, matrons, Bingley sisters, and Sir William.
The skill with which he chose the route after just a few seconds’ assessment was impressive.
They soon approached the officer and the young lady by his side as Mr Darcy answered her question. “You are correct. The uniforms are different, but that is not how I know he is with the regulars. I know because he is my cousin.”
With that small bit of information, they came to an abrupt stop right in front of the officer and young lady, who was indeed quite young and very pretty.
The officer immediately said something that made no real sense. “You know what she’s like, Darce! I really had no choice. She threatened to come alone.”
Elizabeth thought that if this was an example of the fighting men facing Napoleon, she might wonder about the safety of the empire. This one apparently could not handle an adolescent girl.
Beside her, Mr Darcy resembled a burning ball of anger likely to explode. The two men stared at each other for a few seconds, then belatedly remembered their manners. The young lady had yet to say a single word, nor did she look likely to do so anytime soon.
Elizabeth grew nervous with the tension, which eased slightly when Mr Darcy stepped forward and bowed. “Miss Darcy, permit me to introduce Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn.” Turning to Elizabeth, he added, “Miss Elizabeth, my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy.”
Ah! So, THIS was the mysterious sister! Elizabeth curtsied, as was proper and the young lady reciprocated. Seeing Mr Darcy was still on the angry side, she thought a little civility might smooth things over.
“Miss Darcy, I am ever so happy to meet you. Your brother has spoken fondly of you, and I have been looking forward to it exceedingly.”
Darcy gave her a look of gratitude, or perhaps appraisal, before continuing the introductions. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam of Matlock.”
They exchanged the usual courtesies, and the colonel exerted himself slightly. “Miss Elizabeth, I am most happy to make your acquaintance.”
An undercurrent of tension remained between the cousins which did not bode well for whatever discussion they might unwisely pursue in the middle of the assembly.
Elizabeth was in no mood to have her plans for escaping her mother thwarted by the sudden appearance of a mere colonel and a sister, so she decided to once again jump into the breach. “Are you fond of dancing, Colonel?”
The man was not prepared for a frontal assault from a stranger less than a minute after introductions, but he was an amiable and easy-going man. “I most certainly am.”
Elizabeth studied the mysterious sister, who had yet to say much of anything.
She suspected the girl was shy or overwhelmed by the unfamiliar surroundings.
Based on the colonel’s words, Miss Darcy may have been the driving force for getting them to the assembly, but she clearly had no idea what to do next.
Elizabeth remembered being fifteen, and had a fine example elsewhere in the room, so she knew exactly what the young lady needed.
Clearly and obviously, she needed Jane Bennet!
First, however, she must dispense with preliminaries.
She glanced at the young lady. “Miss Darcy, are you also fond of dancing?”
The lady exerted herself to reply. “I am not yet out.”
This was no surprise; surely a girl of her station would not be out at fifteen, or even seventeen.
Clearly unaccustomed to such circles, the young lady likely did not understand how assemblies worked in the country.
A bit of education should be sufficient to relieve her suffering and perhaps keep Mr Darcy or the colonel from causing trouble.
“Have no fear. This is a country assembly, not a London ballroom. All are welcome, and so long as you refrain from dancing with anyone other than family or people you know well, propriety will be maintained perfectly. Fortunately, you have two convenient relations right here, or you need not dance at all. I have four sisters and numerous friends, so we could amuse you for days, let alone the few hours left in the evening.”
Darcy and Fitzwilliam stared at her in wonderment, seeming to debate whether this assertive young lady was to be encouraged or feared.
Mrs Bennet, Mrs Lucas, and Miss Bingley had started moving in their direction, so Elizabeth judged it best to make their escape expeditiously.
Catching Mr Darcy’s eye, she rolled hers toward the approaching onslaught, extended her arm to the young lady, and issued her orders.
“Come along, Miss Darcy, you must meet my sisters. Colonel, if you are in search of dance partners, I will be happy to introduce you to some amiable ladies. Mr Darcy was just on his way over to dance the next set, but I am certain there will be partners left for you.”
Motion was preferable to hiding, so she bodily dragged Miss Darcy across the floor using nearly the same technique her brother had employed moments earlier, since brute force often had much to recommend it. Her goal was clear: a small cluster including Jane, Charlotte, and unaccountably, Mary.
As she started walking, she signalled Mr Darcy to follow, and lacking better options, he followed the implied demand.
As they started following Elizabeth and Georgiana, the colonel murmured, “Is this force of nature in charge of all dancing at this assembly?”
“Not for everyone… just us!” he replied with a chuckle.
A few moments brought the party to the cluster of ladies Elizabeth sought, and she proceeded with introductions. She assumed the order of precedence; since she alone knew every person in the group, the task fell to her.
Once they had exchanged greetings, Elizabeth noticed the musicians preparing for the next set.
She stopped with Miss Darcy still clinging to her arm for dear life, while Mr Darcy stood to her left, directly before Charlotte Lucas.
She could not say anything in the present company, but surreptitiously tapped his foot.
He glanced her way and she looked significantly at Charlotte.
Mr Darcy asked, “Miss Lucas, may I have the pleasure of the next set?”
Charlotte, not one to be surprised or intimidated by just about anything likely to happen at an assembly, was nevertheless astounded by this particular address.
She was surprised when asked to dance by anybody, but a man of Mr Darcy’s consequence was nearly shocking.
She glanced at Lizzy, suspecting her hand in the matter, but was entirely satisfied.
She took Mr Darcy’s arm and moved to the floor.
The colonel recognised orders and bowed. “Miss Mary, might I have the pleasure?”
Mary had not the slightest idea how to respond to a colonel asking her to dance, so she simply stood staring until Elizabeth leaned over and whispered, “Have no fear, Mary. I will be right here watching, and he does not even have his sword.”
With a sheepish little grin, Mary took the colonel’s arm and joined the line next to Darcy and Charlotte.
Elizabeth turned to Miss Darcy with a wink. “Free at last! Now we are safe! My sister Jane and I shall take care of you. All will be well.”