Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
The Ramsgate Assembly Rooms had rarely contained so much collaborative obstinacy masquerading as polite society.
News traveled in the visiting society faster and more proficiently than an epidemic of plague.
Lady Barry, despite accepting fewer visitors than a hermit, was endowed with social influence that could make an entire garrison town and sea resort evaluate its convictions out of pure self-interest. No one knew, precisely, why they did not wish to displease her, only that none of them wished to sabotage their own positions in the attempt.
Her edict had been straightforward and explicit.
Sir Rupert Barry and Miss Barry were not to be encouraged.
They were not to be introduced, nor welcomed, nor invited.
Nor, if it could be helped, accepted as gentry, or even as people.
Fishwives on the docks were to be treated with more respect and dignity.
As a result of this new intelligence, when Sir Rupert entered the assembly rooms with his sister on his arm, they were met by what might best be illustrated as nearly perfect collective isolation. Elizabeth, observing their lack of reception from beside Charlotte, nearly pitied him. Nearly.
As a baronet, he ought to have been titled and wealthy enough to attract notice instantly.
Even as a severe man, his polished reserve had a bearing that many ladies considered refined and attractive.
Elizabeth was not one of them. Nor did she find herself drawn to men almost old enough to be her father.
Tonight, Sir Rupert and Miss Barry might as well have arrived covered in smallpox pustules.
A noticeable hush fell over the assembly room as he entered. Ladies lifted their fans and inclined their heads together in hushed whispers. People looked them over in curiosity. Then, in artistic unison, they turned away in a collective display of disinclination.
Miss Barry blanched in dismay, then glared at Elizabeth. Sir Rupert realized the state of affairs immediately, and–perceptive enough to see clearly when he was being skillfully excluded–glared at Lady Barry.
Lady Barry, who never attended assemblies or social events, was installed in a chair in the back.
She was surrounded by local matrons who had attempted to gain her friendship for years, and society ladies visiting from London.
Like a malevolent patron saint of social destruction, she watched the scene with profound satisfaction.
“I adore the efficient power of society.”
Elizabeth, seated beside her for the moment, turned and smiled. “You have weaponised the gentry and the nobility all at once, Lady Barry.”
“I shall not pretend to be ashamed,” Lady Barry gloated. “A lady must use every respectable resource at her disposal. And perhaps those which are not respectable as well.”
The Master of Ceremonies, Sir Walter Saunders, a brave but anxious gentleman, performed his obligation time and again, without a single triumph.
He approached Mrs Osborne.
“May I present Sir Rupert Barry–”
Mrs Osborne recoiled and turned away.
“Oh! How unfortunate, I do beg your pardon, Sir Rupert.”
The Master of Ceremonies turned and tried again with Mrs Hatton.
She looked at Sir Rupert with less sympathy than she might extend to a street urchin.
“No, thank you, Sir Walter.”
Miss Barry’s countenance froze into one of such mortification and disapproval that Elizabeth thought that she might chide Mrs Hatton publicly.
“This is preposterous,” Miss Barry whispered to Sir Rupert. “Who do these people think they are?”
Sir Rupert, remained entirely collected, his severe mien unruffled.
“Our aunt has been busy, sister.”
“She cannot possibly mean to exile her only relations permanently.” Miss Barry was indignant. “To what end? And for whom? Some country chit from nowhere?”
From her place, Lady Barry surveyed the room with the tranquil countenance of a woman who could–and absolutely would–continue their banishment indefinitely, and even extend it far beyond Ramsgate, if necessary.
Those members of society who already knew Sir Rupert from town or previous visits to Ramsgate could provide no assistance at all.
One gentleman after another upon seeing his approach, abruptly turned away faster than Elizabeth might if presented with Mr Collins.
Mr Underhill, who had never met Sir Rupert, performed the cut direct with precision.
Sir Rupert accepted this without visible alarm.
Nothing deterred him from his purpose. Eventually, inevitably, he directed himself to Elizabeth.
She observed his approach and instinctively wished she could hide.
Unfortunately, she had left Lady Barry and was near the dance floor with Jane and Priscilla.
Mr Bennet saw him as well and stepped into his path as if quietly closing a door.
Sir Rupert stopped. “Mr. Bennet, I presume?”
“I beg your pardon. We are not introduced.” Mr Bennet was curt and did not welcome an introduction. Just because Sir Rupert was ranked higher did not mean he could force one where it was unwanted.
“I have been introduced to Miss Elizabeth,” said Sir Rupert, “I was hoping to ask her to dance.”
Mr Bennet looked at him with complete disinterest. “You may not.”
Sir Rupert blinked in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”
“You may beg,” said Mr Bennet, “but your chance of success is not encouraging.”
Elizabeth looked away and pretended not to hear. Jane looked terrified.
Priscilla stared at Mr Bennet in glee and admiration.
Sir Rupert recovered from his surprise. “Surely, under the circumstances–”
Mr Bennet interrupted him. “The circumstances in which you impose yourself upon a slight acquaintance with my daughter like a vulture?”
“Your daughter should be grateful for our notice!” Miss Barry snapped.
“And yet…” Mr Bennet smiled. “She is not. None of us are.”
At that moment, Darcy appeared at Elizabeth’s elbow with the quiet air of a man arriving exactly where he belonged.
“Miss Elizabeth.” He bowed low over her hand, as though no one else existed in the room, “May I have the pleasure of the next dance?”
Elizabeth smiled beautifully. “With pleasure, Mr Darcy. Thank you for asking.”
Blocked by his aunt, his target’s father, and his rival in under a minute, Sir Rupert was thoroughly routed.
As Mr Bennet turned away without another word, and Darcy led Elizabeth onto the floor, Sir Rupert stood unbelieving, emanating refined vexation.
“This is intolerable,” his sister hissed in displeasure. “You cannot intend to persevere."
Sir Rupert’s countenance was like stone. “I dislike unfinished business.”
Lady Barry watched this unfold from her place with the matrons with narrowed eyes. “Stubborn fool,” she muttered.
Charlotte sighed from beside her. “How reassuring. Will he truly not desist after such obvious rejection? Why would a man chase a lady whose family has rejected him so publicly?”
“The town of Ramsgate has never seen me treat anyone with approval, because I enjoy the company of so few people,” Lady Barry answered.
“They have decided that allowing Lizzy to read to me suggests an attachment so significant, that I must intend to make her my heiress. They have overlooked the fact that this summer I have also grudgingly approved of Darcy-boy, his sister, and Reggie’s girl.
Lizzy was first, and she visits more often. It is evidence enough for society.”
“But perhaps if you would only correct them–”
“Tut, tut, Mrs Bennet! My affairs are none of their business or yours,” Lady Barry chided.
“But I will not allow her to be harmed because of the foolishness of society. All that is necessary is for her and this young man on the dance floor with her to acknowledge what the rest of us have already seen, and once she is married, she will be safe.”
“It is obvious to everyone that they are in love,” Charlotte complained. “What are they waiting for?”
“Lizzy-girl is waiting to be sure that what she feels is abiding, and Darcy-boy is respectfully waiting for her to be ready.” Lady Barry rolled her eyes. “No one would disapprove of your choices, Mrs Bennet, but a marriage without affection would destroy our Lizzy-girl.”
“She has confided all of this in you?” Charlotte sounded hurt, for Elizabeth still did not confide in her as she once did.
“She has not.” Lady Barry continued to watch Sir Rupert vigilantly. “But I understand her.”
“And who says my marriage is without affection?” Charlotte demanded, a mischievous smile on her face.
“Am I mistaken?” Lady Barry asked with interest.
“You are correct that it was not a love match.” Charlotte turned back to the dance floor. “Though even in the beginning, I believe expectations were similar on both sides. But if you suggest my union lacks mutual respect and affection, you would certainly be mistaken now.”
“Good for you, Mrs Bennet.” Lady Barry was tolerably impressed. “No one could be happier to hear it than myself.”
On the dance floor, Elizabeth finally relaxed. Darcy danced beautifully, of course. The gentleman was steady, composed, and entirely considerate. Every moment she spent in his company, she felt safer and more cherished.
The room was energetic, warm, and full of that agreeable hum particular to an assembly full of amiable people.
Darcy spoke quietly. “I hope you do not consider yourself inconvenienced by my remaining close to you.”
Elizabeth smiled. “You mean you intend to stay near me all night?”
“If possible.” He appeared worried. “Though I do not wish to curb your enjoyment of the evening.”
“Mr Darcy, you are my friend, remember? I enjoy your company, and you are a surprisingly effective human barricade.”
That earned a genuine laugh from him. “Then I have performed tolerably?”
“You have exceeded my every expectation,” she assured him.
“That is high praise, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Do not allow yourself to become vain, Mr Darcy.” She laughed.