A/N: Thank you for your reviews. I'm glad that you are enjoying the story so far. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. :)
Chapter Three: The Assembly
Elizabeth could think of a thousand places she would rather be right now than at the assembly. She had tried to make her mother understand she was not in the mood for dancing and revelry tonight; indeed, even if she was so inclined, it was hardly proper considering the community was still reeling from the news of Elsie Cartwright. Yet, Mrs Bennet was insistent. "Jane must go," she had said from her seat on Lydia's bed, "for if she does not meet Mr Bingley tonight then someone else will snare him first."
Mary, declaring the impropriety of the assembly going ahead in spite of the murder, stayed home in protest. Kitty, told by Mr Bennet she was to consider herself and Lydia "no longer out until you are capable of displaying some sense!" said she didn't care to go anyway. Lydia was the only one who truly wished to attend, and on learning that she couldn't, stormed to her bedroom in tears.
In the end, Jane and Elizabeth had caved to their mother's wishes, not because they agreed with her, but because they knew from experience when an argument would not be won. Their gowns were adorned with black ribbons and they had chosen not to dance.
They were standing with Charlotte Lucas in a corner of the hall when the much-anticipated Mr Bingley and his party made their late entrance. There was a momentary hush as all eyes looked to the newcomers, before the buzz of conversation resumed.
Elizabeth, though determined not to enjoy herself, could not help but indulge in her favourite pastime of character study.
"Well, Lizzy?" Charlotte prompted with a smile. "What can you tell us about the Bingley party?"
"The young man in the front seems to be the only one of his party who actually wants to be here."
"That's Mr Bingley," Charlotte said.
"Ah, Jane, we must arrange an introduction." Elizabeth affected her mother's voice.
"Oh, stop, Lizzy." Jane blushed, though her gaze remained on Mr Bingley.
"What of the rest?" Charlotte asked.
"The tall dark man behind Mr Bingley has better things to do. Look how he scarcely acknowledges the people your father is introducing. And those feathered creatures seem quite uncomfortable here in the wilds of Meryton. The other man, at least, has no objection to being here, although I'd wager as long as he has food and drink, he could be happy anywhere."
"Those are rather harsh sentiments, Lizzy." Jane frowned at her sister. "Perhaps they are only uncomfortable because everyone keeps staring at them as if they're in a zoo."
"Perhaps." Elizabeth tilted her head in acknowledgement. "Perhaps my opinions will change after we are introduced."
"Here is your chance now," Charlotte said.
The three young women looked to see Sir Lucas leading Mr Bingley and his friend toward them. Mr Bingley's bright eyes and wide smile only strengthened Elizabeth's impression of him as jovial. She was still undecided about his friend.
"Mr Bingley, you remember my daughter, Charlotte," Sir Lucas said upon reaching them. "These lovely ladies are the Misses Bennet; Jane and Elizabeth."
The ladies curtseyed as they were named.
"Girls, this is Mr Bingley who has leased Netherfield, and this is his friend, Mr Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire."
Elizabeth observed that although Mr Bingley smiled at each of them, he had eyes only for Jane. Oh, how Mama would crow with delight if she could see this, Elizabeth thought.
"Miss Bennet, would you do me the honour of dancing with me?" Mr Bingley said.
Jane's smile faltered. "I'm sorry, Mr Bingley. I would love to, but my sister and I are not dancing tonight."
Mr Bingley's smile faded somewhat. "Not dancing? Why not?"
"We are in mourning, sir," Elizabeth said.
"Oh. I see. I'm sorry." Mr Bingley looked regretful at not being able to stand up with Jane. Then he brightened. "Would you at least permit me to escort you to supper later?"
"I would be honoured," Jane said, her own smile returning.
As the men bowed and left, Elizabeth noted that Mr Darcy had remained silent throughout the exchange. Frowning, she kept her gaze on him as she wondered wondered why a man who so obviously didn't want to be here had come.
"Well, Lizzy. Any more observations?" Charlotte asked.
"I don't know. I think Mama will be happy to hear about Mr Bingley's attention to Jane."
When Jane didn't reply, Elizabeth noticed she was still staring after Mr Bingley. Elizabeth smiled; yes, Mrs Bennet would be thrilled indeed.
For a moment, Elizabeth stopped thinking about what had happened to Elsie and simply enjoyed her sister's happiness.
It didn't take long for Mr Bingley to find favour with those in attendance at the assembly. The other members of his party were less fortunate, however; and as Elizabeth made her way outside for a breath of fresh air, she couldn't help but overhear snatches of conversation.
"-oh, their clothes are fine indeed, but their manners? I hear their father was in trade-"
"-if Mr Bingley stays, I do hope those sisters return to London-"
"-what a charming fellow, that Bingley-"
"-Mr Darcy has ten thousand a year; perhaps he is so rich he doesn't need to be pleasant-"
"-so cold! You don't suppose he had anything to do with the Cartwright girl-"
Elizabeth stopped in shock, not sure she had heard correctly. She turned to see who had spoken, but there was now nobody behind her. She wondered who had made such a preposterous leap from someone being cold to that person potentially being a murderer. Surely the comment was made in jest. If she could only pinpoint who had spoken, she would ask.
As she gazed about the room, she noticed several people giving Mr Darcy suspicious looks. Fortunately the man himself seemed unaware of the speculation about him, but it disturbed Elizabeth that it was happening at all. She knew nothing of Mr Darcy except for his supposed wealth and apparently atrocious manners, but still she felt offended on his behalf. He was a gentleman and did not deserve to be slandered in such a manner.
She took a step toward the nearest group of people, intent on saying something in his defence, but she stopped. Someone had murdered Elsie. Perhaps if Mr Darcy was under pressure to clear his own name, then the real culprit would be brought to light. Ignoring the prick of conscience that told her it wasn't the right way to go about finding justice, Elizabeth decided not to say anything.
She glanced at Mr Darcy once more only to find him looking at her. Her cheeks burning in mortification, she hurried outside.
