A/N: I post all the chapters the exact same way. It seems to me that if I do not have author notes upfront, the chapter does not post correctly. Hope it works now.

Chapter 12: Lucas Lodge

A few weeks after the assembly, Sir William Lucas invited many of the landed families around Meryton to welcome the vanguard officers of the Derbyshire militia, which would be encamping just outside Meryton for the winter. By the time the Netherfield party arrived, Mr. Bingley was looking around eagerly for Miss Bennet, and Mr. Darcy stealthily followed suit, but the target was Miss Elizabeth. They soon found both Jane and Elizabeth in the middle of two separate clusters of young men in the neighborhood. Miss Mary attended this gathering as the Lucases were good friends of the Bennets' and even she had a couple of young men paying court to her. Mr. Bingley made a beeline to Jane's group and very soon dominated the conversation. In another two minutes he led Miss Bennet to a settee for two by the window. The other young men could do nothing but disperse to wait for better opportunities to get close to the Bennet sisters. Meanwhile Miss Charlotte Lucas came over to Elizabeth's group and led her away to introduce her to Colonel Foster, the commanding officer of the militia.

Miss Bingley was beside Mr. Darcy the whole time and seeing that Mr. Darcy's attention was trained on the group surrounding Miss Elizabeth, observed, "I can guess the subject of your reverie."

Mr. Darcy responded without directing his gaze from the group, "I should imagine not."

"You must be considering how insupportable it is to pass an evening in this manner - in such society. I am quite of your opinion- to be quite repelled by the uncouthness of all this display: hapless young men crowding around two country misses simply because they will inherit a share of their father's estate when he dies. Longbourn being such a small insignificant estate could not bring much, and it will have to be divided five ways. What would I give to hear your strictures on them!"

Mr. Darcy answered without looking at Miss Bingley," Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. I have no wish to condemn behaviour which is common enough, and is ten times more egregious in town. I am very often at the receiving end of such unbecoming impropriety wherever I go when my income is bandied about. The fact that it has not happened to me here gives credit to the genteel decorum of the local populace. As a matter of fact, these young men have not swarmed around you, and I am quite certain that your substantial dowry of twenty thousand pounds should provide some inducement if mercenary intent is the only reason for their favouring the Miss Bennets."

Miss Bingley was rendered speechless for a moment by Mr. Darcy's rather ill-disguised and uncharacteristically long put-down. She soon recovered, however, and persisted, "If it is not censure I see on your face, then what have you so intent on watching?"

"My mind was much more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes on a beautiful woman can bestow."

Miss Bingley was again dumbfounded and stared at Mr. Darcy's face to see whether he was in jest. When he remained placid, she followed his gaze to Elizabeth Bennet who was talking to Colonel Foster and Charlotte Lucas. Before she could resume her banter, Mr. Darcy excused himself to stalk around the room moving closer to where Elizabeth was standing. In the meantime, Mrs. Hurst came over and diverted her attention to the rather exclusive tête à têt occurring on the settee between their brother and Miss Bennet.

"Let him have his diversion now; he will move on to another of his 'angels' soon enough," huffed Miss Bingley.

By the time she turned back to look at Mr. Darcy, his eyes were following Elizabeth Bennet to the pianoforte. She simply could not abide by the notion that Mr. Darcy admired Miss Elizabeth. In no way could she be considered pretty, let alone beautiful, by the standards of the ton. Her hair was dark, her complexion was dark, and her eyes, which she just heard to be so fine, were dark and nothing out of the ordinary, and her person was short and unremarkable.

"She a beauty?" Noticing that the said lady's mother was seated just a few feet away, a malicious glint appeared in her eyes before she continued her rant to her sister, "autant dire que sa mère une femme d'esprit (as saying that her mother a wit)!" Mrs. Hurst, seeing that Mrs. Bennet turned and glared at them with disapproval, shushed and pulled her sister away.

The two sisters moved to the back of the room, and Miss Bingley hissed, "Why did you pull me away? Did you expect that the country nobody's mother, who was no doubt begotten by another country nobody, can understand Parisian French? Granted, she being an excellent cook by reputation, may know some French words such as 'ragoût' and 'brioche'. Whether we would know those words the way she says them is quite another story!" The sisters giggled and sneered some more while pronouncing the names of a few more French dishes as if they had been English words.

Nevertheless, she lowered her voice before continuing with her criticism, "Listen to this - this is what she considers accomplishments! She is singing an inane old ballad in her speaking voice. Uh! She is so common! Mr. Darcy must be staring at her to find faults." She convinced herself that he praised Miss Elizabeth's eyes just to vex her, which he sometimes did when he did not feel like talking. She could not blame him for being in a foul mood, for who could endure such an indomitable evening!

Meanwhile, Mr. Darcy was reacting to Elizabeth's performance in a completely different manner. When he saw Miss Elizabeth moving toward the pianoforte, his heart jumped in anticipation. He rubbed his chest subconsciously and then looked at his hand and shook his head. It had happened all too frequently in the vicinity of a certain lady. He was especially excited when she played the beginning bars of a folk ballad, and eagerly awaited the pleasant sensation - the rush that touched every inch of his body, inside and out, when he listened to her sing; and this time there would be no need to rely on the wind carrying her song to where he was hiding on Oakham Mount. Indeed, when she started singing, it was in her own sweet voice with the phrasing that was more appropriate for the parlour,

"Tis the last rose of summer,
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone;
No flower of her kindred,
No rose-bud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes
Or give sigh for sigh!"

Mr. Darcy recognized the lyrics as the poem 'The last rose of summer' by the Irish poet Thomas Moore. It was published quite recently, and he had not heard the poem set to music. The Irish-sounding tune called to the Irish part of him through his Fitzwilliam blood, and he felt completely drawn in by the fair lady sitting in front of the instrument. He subconsciously moved closer to see her face, and began to imagine having his head on her lap under his favourite willow by the stream at Pemberley listening to her singing just to him. That might have been the first time that the neighbours around Meryton had seen Mr. Darcy's face relaxing completely from its usually stern expression. The song soon ended, and the applause was quite enthusiastic, but Miss Elizabeth demurely declined to play another. Miss Bingley took to the instrument. She played the first movement of a delightful but easy sonata by Mozart just to appease the rabble, but Mr. Darcy was still inside this idyllic picture he had conjured for himself and did not hear any of it. He was in this semi-conscious state when he was accosted by Sir William who asked him why he was not dancing. At the request of the younger set in the room, Miss Mary had started the music for a lively reel after the sonata. Startled out of his pleasant daydream by Sir William's sudden approach, he replied in his usual haughty tone:

"I am not fond of the activity. I try to avoid it if I possibly can, but you have seen me dance at the assembly."

Sir William, a true believer that his guests should enjoy every activity when under his roof, was not so easily dissuaded. He saw Miss Elizabeth moving in the general direction of his location, and called out to her to join him. Mr. Darcy bowed to Elizabeth and complemented her on her performance just now. Sir William immediately followed, "That was truly capital, Miss Eliza!" He then turned to Mr. Darcy, "With so much beauty before you, Mr. Darcy, how should you resist to take on this fair partner to dance?"

Darcy did not expect this command from Sir William, but agreed with Sir William about the beauty standing before him, even though he truly detested dancing in such a setting.

"Miss Elizabeth, will you do me the honour of dancing this set with me?"

"Mr. Darcy is all politeness," Elizabeth turned to Sir William.

"It is not politeness. It would be a pleasure," responded Mr. Darcy.

"Mr. Darcy, you do not have to suffer this indignity of dancing in such a setting for my sake," said Elizabeth, still resisting. She did not wish to make a spectacle of herself and Mr. Darcy, as she knew tongues would start wagging when such an important and usually haughty person danced with a local lady.

"What could I do to win your condescension to dance with your humble errant knight, my lady?"

Elizabeth could not help but grin widely when Mr. Darcy once again referred to their little repartee in the hallway of Longbourn.

"As you wish. You know that you will have to dance with another lady after this to dam all the gossip that will come from this - the high and mighty Mr. Darcy danced with Elizabeth Bennet in a drawing room! When are we to wish them joy?"

"You are the one who is high and mighty, my lady. I am not afraid of any talk if you are not."

"No, I am not afraid. Let us dance a reel!"

Mr. Darcy could have never believed that he would not only agree but insist on dancing in this makeshift fashion when just prior to joining the set, he was quite irritated by all the noise and commotion caused by it. However, every time his fingers touched the gloved hand of his partner, he felt a great sense of joy that he had not experienced since he was a boy running around the fields of Pemberley. He felt a little loss when the set was over. Several young men immediately scampered after Elizabeth for the next sets. Mr. Darcy danced the next with Miss Bennet and the third and last with Miss Lucas.

On the way back to Netherfield, Miss Bingley was rather cross, and felt slighted that Mr. Darcy did not dance with her. She comforted herself that it would have been beneath her to dance in a downright uncouth setting like that. However, she had to arrest Mr. Darcy's burgeoning infatuation with Eliza Bennet by pointing out to him that the girl was nothing but a common country miss with plebian taste. She said to her brother, "The people of this place are so coarse and without style. Miss Eliza Bennet, who is talked of as very clever, could not offer any better than a little-known folk song sung with her speaking voice as entertainment. I wonder whether she knows anything of fashion at all. I cannot fathom how you and Mr. Darcy could have joined in that impromptu dance right there in the drawing room with the rug hastily rolled up."

Mr. Darcy replied, "Miss Elizabeth Bennet is indeed very clever. She confirmed for me that she and her sister Miss Mary transcribed the poem by Thomas Moore to a traditional Irish tune of their choosing. Next time I am in company with Mr. Moore in one of Earl Fitzwilliam's soirees, I shall let him know how his masterly creation has become even more haunting in the hands of the Bennet sisters."

Miss Bingley fell silent the rest of the ride which was much appreciated by all in the carriage.

After this evening, the reputations of Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy as exemplarily amiable were secured.

The morning after the gathering at Lucas Lodge, Mr. Bennet again received a letter from Mr. Collins in which he insisted, on three pages of a closely written hand, on extending an olive branch to heal the breach between the two branches of the family, and would be at Longbourn's door at four o'clock in a se'nnight.

Chapter notes:

1. The Upper Class in England during Regency were Francophiles and often spoke French among themselves even when their men were being killed in battles fighting Napoleon. Miss Bingley's academy certainly made sure that their students would learn adequate French to appear fashionable.

2. Thomas Moore's poem was published in 1805, and the song for this problem was published in 1813. There are many excellent versions of this song on the internet.