Chapter 19 #2
“My son dislikes simplicity in all forms.” Mr Darcy laughed in amusement. “He never entertains casually. It is hereditary, I think.”
Charlotte was, by common agreement, settled into the most comfortable pile of cushions.
“Now, Mrs Bennet, you are at the seaside for your health, so if anyone makes any practical request of you, you must refuse, no matter what” Priscilla instructed. “Our footman James will assist you with anything you require.”
Charlotte made no disagreement as the young ladies spread out and began to claim their favourite locations for sketching with all speed before returning to dine with the others.
The young men present followed the ladies, doing all they could to ensure their comfort and be the first to serve them plates of the comestibles of their choice.
Darcy was no different, seating Elizabeth in the location she preferred in the sun, bringing her one plate after another of savoury and confectionery morsels until she begged, laughing, to be fed no more.
Mr Bennet, Mr Darcy, and the other fathers, Messrs Hatton and Osbourn, sat under one canopy sipping ale and discussing their estates, books, and other mature masculine interests.
Charlotte enjoyed the company of Mrs Hatton and Mrs Osbourn as they spoke of their households, their children, and some upcoming parties that all of the families were looking forward to.
After more than an hour of dining like kings and queens, Darcy announced, “It is time for the men to play cricket, that is, if we are all so inclined. There are not enough of us for a formal match, but that ought not stop us from displaying our talents for the ladies.”
“I quite agree that our lack of numbers is a detail unworthy of further attention!” Mr Bingley cried in enthusiasm. “The weather is fine, and there is nothing like a game of cricket on a perfect day!”
This was instantly met with enthusiasm. Wickets were improvised by the footmen, and coats were discarded by the men.
Mr Bennet refused to participate. “I see no merit in perspiring intentionally.”
“I retired from sportsmanship many years ago,” Darcy Senior agreed.
Mr Osborne and Mr Hatton declined on the merit that they had each brought two sons that would play in their stead.
Darcy took command with all the seriousness of a general, and divided the players with methodical efficiency as the men rolled up their shirtsleeves to the titters of the youngest ladies.
“Cricket was never this fun to watch in Meryton,” Lydia announced. “I believe that there ought never be a match again unless the men are prepared to exert themselves so attractively.”
“Lydia!” whispered Mary, who was scandalised, but not scandalised enough to look away from Mr Jasper’s forearms.
Elizabeth had participated in her share of private, informal cricket games in the garden with her sisters in her youth.
She had never cared much for watching the formal matches enjoyed by the local gentlemen in Meryton, but as she watched Mr Jasper bowl to Darcy, who stepped forward to bat with the sort of confidence that she suddenly found deeply interesting, she thought perhaps she had not appreciated the game as she ought before.
Mr Darcy struck cleanly, and the ball sailed impressively across the grass as the young ladies clapped and cheered. As the game continued, he continued to perform exceedingly well.
“I declare that this is intolerable.” Elizabeth folded her arms in mock irritation.
Jane glanced at her. “What is, Lizzy?”
“He appears to be good at everything.” Elizabeth frowned.
“A terrible fault.” Jane smiled. “You sound like Lady Barry.”
“He cannot whistle,” Priscilla whispered to Elizabeth in mischief. “It causes him no end of irritation.”
“Thank you, Priscilla, I shall endeavour to whistle for the rest of the day,” said Elizabeth.
“But not while they are playing, Lizzy!” Mary objected. “You could never be so improper!”
Could I not? Elizabeth watched in interest.
Mr Bingley approached the game with enthusiasm rather than skill or elegance. He managed one elegant stroke, appeared delighted with himself, and was immediately bowled out on his next attempt.
“I fear I was overconfident,” he laughed.
“That suggests that confidence is merited, Bingley!” Darcy called out tauntingly.
The Osbourne brothers played with cheerful competitiveness and no dignity whatsoever, while the Hatton brothers played as if their father’s estate had been wagered on the game. Mr Underhill bowled a ball so impossibly off course that a footman flinched and saved a bottle of lemonade from disaster.
As all unofficial games must, the match ended in confusion.
Scoring became a matter of theory. The gentlemen lost track of whose turn it was to bowl.
Mr Hatton accused Mr Bingley of inventing rules.
Eventually, a halt was called to the activity, and the men returned to the others, comically satisfied with themselves.
“I miss playing when we were girls,” Lydia went back to her rug and her sketches. “We should arrange a ladies’ match before we leave Ramsgate.”
The ladies dispersed to their planned sketching locations, and the gentlemen followed, as willing to praise as they had been to collect it themselves.
Everyone relaxed as the afternoon passed.
Charlotte, Priscilla, and Mr Darcy dozed under the canopies.
Mr Bennet read from a book as the other two fathers discussed their estate methods.
The Misses Hatton and Osbourne took turns playing their harp lutes.
Miss de Bourgh, who was usually as quiet and reserved as a spectre, noticed Lydia’s stack of fashion plates and instantly came to life.
“What are those, Miss Lydia?” she asked in curiosity.
Lydia brightened at the prospect of having someone new to discuss fashion with, even someone as ill-dressed as this young lady. “Those are French plates from last month. Would you like to see them?”
“Thank you, I would!” Anne moved closer and the two began to discuss the gowns and their merits or defects.
Within moments, the two were bent over Lydia’s magazines like a pair of generals, every bit as serious as Darcy organising a game of cricket.
“No, Miss de Bourgh. That shape would drown you entirely,” Lydia said to her new friend.
Anne nodded. “I feared I would be terrible at chusing clothes.”
“All you need is someone who can advise you, and then you will get better, once you learn what becomes you,” Lydia reassured her as she pulled out her pad and began to draw. “Allow me to show you. You need narrower sleeves, like this. And a cleaner line down the bodice.”
Anne leaned closer. “Oh, that is much better!”
“Of course it is,” Lydia said confidently. “You are much too small for those dreadful drooping things your mother chooses for you.”
“Perhaps you could come with me next week when I go to the modiste with my cousins.” Anne looked about. “Priscilla, could I invite Miss Lydia to join us next week?”
“Of course you can,” Priscilla answered drowsily. “We are shopping for your clothes, and Miss Lydia has good instincts when it comes to fashion.”
Darcy and Elizabeth strolled near the cliffs.
“Dare I ask if you found the match tolerable?” he asked hopefully.
“You seemed to require little praise,” Elizabeth teased.
“I find myself in desperate hopes of receiving yours,” he said with a smile.
Elizabeth looked at him for just a second too long. “I found it much more tolerable than any other cricket match I have observed before.”
“I shall take that as a compliment.” He grinned. Then suddenly, he blushed.
Elizabeth giggled, not knowing what to say next.
“I am so happy that you came,” he said, suddenly sounding unsure of himself.
Elizabeth blushed as well, bringing his smile back just as quickly as it had deserted him. “I am very glad of it too.”
The day ended when, at Darcy’s indication, a footman produced a pair of small pipes1. The Bennet ladies nor the Osbournes had not heard the instrument played before, for they were mostly popular in the far north.
Darcy Senior humbly demurred. “I have not played in too long, I fear.”
“Please, Father! It has been so long since I have heard you play!” Georgiana begged.
Chaos ensued as the guests begged Darcy Senior to honour them with a performance.
He sighed with theatrical reluctance. “It appears that I shall have no peace until I agree.”
The guests applauded this and settled down to observe.
The gentleman accepted his small pipes from the footman and began to perform.
The music was different from any Elizabeth had heard before, something like a cross between a flute and a fiddle.
He played a melodic tune that made Kitty get up and attempt a little reel, and soon, the youngest members of their party were reeling over the grass.
Darcy stood next to Elizabeth, and she looked up and saw the joy he took as he watched his father play.
Charmed, she watched the light in his eyes, the dancers, and the performer as a warmth she had never experienced before washed over her, and a new feeling, almost like a weight, nearly painful yet exhilarating all at once, settled upon her chest.
1 Smallpipes are quieter, indoor-friendly bagpipes with a sweeter, mellower sound than traditional Highland pipes.