CHAPTER TWO
An Assembly Reversed
The Meryton assembly had changed less in ten years than the Bennets had.
The chandeliers still smoked. The musicians still argued between sets.
Mrs Long still placed her nieces where every entering gentleman must pass them, and Aunt Phillips still knew precisely who had arrived before the door opened.
Yet the room responded differently when Lady Bennet entered.
People made space.
It was not the easy familiarity offered to Mrs Lucas, for Mr Lucas remained a prosperous merchant and magistrate without a royal title.
It was a subtler acknowledgment that the mistress of Netherfield possessed consequence beyond Meryton, that her eldest daughter had been presented, and that the King himself had once asked after the health of the Bennet children in a Christmas letter.
Lady Bennet enjoyed every degree of it.
"Do not look so resigned, Mr Bennet," she murmured as they crossed the room. "You may stand near the card tables all evening if you choose. I shall not require you to dance."
"Your mercy does you credit."
Only Jane, Elizabeth, and Mary accompanied them. Kitty had developed a cough after her wet walk, and Lydia's attempt to imitate it had been so unconvincing that Miss Harwood assigned her French verbs for dishonesty.
Mary wore pale blue. Elizabeth had helped choose it because it did not demand attention but rewarded a second glance. She looked nervous until Miss Charlotte Lucas approached.
Charlotte was seven-and-twenty, sensible, composed, and one of the few people who never spoke to Mary as though quietness were an illness.
"I saved you a place near the musicians," she said. "We may criticize the tempo with authority."
Mary smiled. "Lizzy says criticism is more enjoyable when one has no authority at all."
"Lizzy is an expert."
Elizabeth joined them. "I am wounded by this conspiracy."
The arrival of the Longbourn party interrupted her. Bingley entered with such visible pleasure that half the room followed his gaze directly to Jane.
He bowed to Lady Bennet, greeted Sir Thomas, and asked Jane for the first two dances within four minutes.
"Your tenant wastes no time," Charlotte observed.
"A useful quality in a leaseholder," Elizabeth said.
Darcy came behind his friend. He was even taller among the local gentlemen than he had appeared at Netherfield. His evening coat fit without ornament. He bowed correctly to the Bennets, spoke to Sir Thomas, and allowed Bingley to draw him toward several introductions.
Within half an hour, everyone knew that Mr Darcy possessed ten thousand a year and everyone disliked him for behaving as though the knowledge were insufficient recommendation.
Elizabeth watched him refuse Mrs Long's niece. His manner was not cruel, but neither did it invite forgiveness. He stood apart after the first set, his attention moving over the dancers with an expression of private endurance.
"He looks like a man waiting for bad weather to pass," Charlotte said.
"Perhaps Derbyshire assemblies occur in silence."
Mary glanced toward Darcy. "He may be shy."
Elizabeth turned. "You defend him?"
"No. I only know that looking displeased and feeling displeased are not always the same."
It was an observation Elizabeth might have considered longer if Bingley had not approached Darcy at that moment. The music had ended. Jane was speaking with Lady Bennet, and several young women remained without partners.
"Come, Darcy," Bingley said. His cheerful voice carried farther than he intended. "I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about in this stupid manner."
"You are dancing with the only handsome woman in the room."
Bingley glanced at Jane and smiled helplessly. "She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld. But one of her sisters is sitting down just behind you. Miss Elizabeth Bennet is very pretty, and agreeable besides. Let me ask her to introduce you properly."
Darcy turned.
Elizabeth had no time to look away. Their eyes met. His gaze rested on her face with disconcerting deliberation.
Then he said, "She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me."
He turned back to Bingley.
Darcy's quiet words carried across the space between them.
Heat touched Elizabeth's cheeks. It was not heartbreak; she had no wish to dance with an unwilling man. It was the casual certainty of his judgment that stung, the sense that he imagined a woman placed before him existed chiefly to be measured against his appetite.
Charlotte heard. Her mouth tightened.
Mary heard too.
Before either could speak, Elizabeth lifted her fan. "A narrow escape. I had feared Mr Bingley might persuade him."
Charlotte searched her face. "Lizzy—"
"Truly. What conversation could we have sustained? I know nothing of silent Derbyshire dances."
She smiled until Charlotte's concern eased. The hurt did not disappear. Elizabeth folded it into humor and placed it where no one might touch it without permission.
Mary touched her sleeve. "You are handsome enough to tempt people with sense."
Elizabeth's smile became real. "My dearest Mary, that is almost a compliment."
Mr Denny asked Elizabeth for the next dance. She accepted and enjoyed herself with determination. When the figure brought her near Darcy, she laughed at something her partner said and did not look toward him.
Darcy looked toward her.
He had known almost as soon as the words left him that Bingley was right. Miss Elizabeth was more than pretty. Animation transformed features he had first judged irregular. Her dark eyes held intelligence and mischief in equal measure; her figure was light; her movements unstudied.
But he had been tired, crowded, and irritated by the room's scrutiny. Refusal had become habit before he understood the offer.
Then Bingley told him which Bennet sister she was.
"The Bennets of Netherfield?" Darcy asked.
"Of course. Sir Thomas owns this half of the neighborhood, or near enough."
Darcy frowned. "I thought the Bennets lived at Longbourn."
"They did. Longbourn is entailed. Netherfield was granted to Sir Thomas by the King after he saved His Majesty's life. Did Caroline not tell you?"
Caroline had said only that Bingley's landlord was a country knight with too many daughters and a royal story repeated beyond endurance.
Darcy looked again at Sir Thomas. The man stood near the wall speaking with the local apothecary, not soliciting notice and not appearing impressed by the wealth Darcy carried into every introduction.
Lady Bennet was animated, but her attention remained upon her daughters rather than the room.
Miss Mary Bennet sat beside Charlotte Lucas, discussing the music.
Miss Bennet danced with Bingley and smiled at him with gentle warmth.
And Miss Elizabeth had heard him insult her.
"You might ask her for the next," Bingley suggested.
"She is engaged."
"The one after."
Darcy watched Elizabeth turn beneath Mr Denny's raised hand. "I do not believe she would accept."
Bingley laughed. "You have known her only one evening and already fear her?"
"I fear no such thing."
"Then ask."
Darcy did not.
His reluctance had changed its nature. Before, he had not wished to dance. Now he did not wish to discover that his first careless sentence had placed a refusal beyond remedy.
During supper, Lady Bennet spoke across him to Mrs Phillips with an enthusiasm impossible to ignore.
"Jane has always loved to dance. When she was presented, the Duke of Clarence himself remarked upon her grace. Not that she heard him, for she was too busy remembering which foot to move."
"Mama," Jane said softly.
"I say nothing improper. He did remark upon it."
Sir Thomas caught Darcy's eye. "My wife has retained every royal compliment. I have forgotten half of them, which is why our marriage remains useful."
Lady Bennet tapped his sleeve with her fan. "You remember perfectly well."
Affection lay beneath the exchange. Darcy had expected vanity from people raised suddenly in consequence. What he saw was a family accustomed to consequence and therefore no longer dazzled by it.
Elizabeth stood on the far side of the table with Charlotte. When she laughed, Darcy found himself listening for the sound.
Miss Bingley noticed.
"You cannot admire her," she said when they were briefly apart. "Her eyes are tolerable, perhaps, but her manner is very decided. And Lady Bennet—though improved, everyone assures me—still speaks enough for three women."
"I said nothing of admiration."
"You looked it."
Darcy's gaze returned to Elizabeth before he could prevent it. "Then I must learn greater command of my face."
The final set began. Elizabeth danced with an officer. Mary declined a partner but remained without distress beside Charlotte. Jane and Bingley stood together once more.
Sir Thomas approached Darcy.
"You do not dance, Mr Darcy?"
The question was mild. Darcy heard no rebuke in it, which made his own words return with greater clarity.
"Not often with ladies I do not know."
"A difficulty assemblies are designed to remedy."
Darcy found humor, but no mockery, in Sir Thomas's expression.
"I have not acquitted myself well tonight," Darcy said.
It was as close to confession as pride permitted.
Sir Thomas followed his glance to Elizabeth. Something paternal and alert entered his face.
"My daughter values honesty," he said. "Though she prefers it without collateral damage."
Darcy stiffened. "She told you?"
"She did not need to."
Sir Thomas bowed and moved away.
For the first time in years, Darcy wished he had remained silent not because speech had exposed him, but because it had injured someone who did not deserve it.
At Netherfield after midnight, Elizabeth sat before her dressing-room fire while Jane removed the pearl pins from her hair.
"Mr Bingley asked whether he might call tomorrow," Jane said, attempting lightness and failing.
"Then I hope Papa gave him directions. He has only lived at Longbourn four days; he may lose his way down the hill."
Jane smiled at her reflection. "He is very agreeable."
"He is."
"And his friend?"