Yorkshire, May 1809
Charles Bingley checked his pocket watch and let out a sigh. It was only five minutes later than when he last checked the time.
Snapping the watch closed, he began to drum his fingers on the table in front of him. The innkeeper looked over, and Bingley shook his head. Bingley had been letting rooms at the inn ever since he had come north a year ago to deal with the unrest that had been going on between his workers and the local tenants.
With the invention of technologies like stocking frames, more and more tenants and other lower classes were concerned for their livelihood. Whereas they once were able to supplement their incomes by handmaking blankets, baskets, and other goods, they were being "invented out of business." Items made with machines could be made more quickly and sold for much less. Many tenants were being moved from the farms their ancestors had worked for generations to make room for factories and workhouses.
This transition led to desperation, and many of the local workers had taken to vandalizing the machines at night. When the government passed the Protection of Stocking Frames, etc. Act in 1788, significantly increasing the fines for damaging such machines, the desperation only increased.
Over the last year in Yorkshire, Bingley had worked tirelessly to build up trust between himself and the local workers. Using the skills he had learned from Darcy, he was able to demonstrate to both parties that he was aware of both sides of the issue.
Checking his pocketwatch again, Bingley rose from the table. "It appears Mr. Knoxley is late today," he said to the innkeeper. "I must retrieve something from my rooms. If he comes while I am gone, please see him to the private sitting room and inform him I will return shortly."
Bingley walked slowly up the stairs that he had climbed hundreds of times over the last twelve months. Entering his rooms, he retrieved a parcel of papers that contained the contracts he would be discussing with Mr. Knoxley. As he looked over his desk, Darcy's latest letter caught his eye.
I have missed your company, my friend. With Georgiana at school, you in the North on holidays, and Richard overseas, Pemberley has been quiet – too quiet for even my solitary tastes.
My neighbor, Mr. Cartwright (who hosted the ball) has had a son. Tragically, his young wife perished in childbirth. He has left for Town, leaving the babe in the care of several nursemaids. Georgiana has visited frequently when she has been home on holiday, exclaiming each time over his growth.
You will be amazed with Georgiana's growth and progress. She is no longer the child that you knew, but is growing into a beautiful young woman. My uncle the earl has begun to discuss potential matches for her, but first, he insists, I must marry so she can have a sister to help her navigate the ton after she has come out.
I refuse to be pressured, however. Georgiana and I shall marry for love and affection, or not at all. She and I have discussed it on multiple occasions. I follow my parents' fine example on this. As long as her husband has genuine feelings for her, it would not matter if he were from trade or were a duke.
I am relieved to know that you have not fallen prey to some of the women that you have described. If you meet a woman who catches your fancy and you find her to be sincere, then you have my warmest felicitations. Please be careful that she cares for you, however.
This last year on my own has given me much time for reflection. I being to wonder if perhaps I have been too quick to judge young ladies. With Georgiana approaching the age for such discussions, I find myself extremely desirous for her to be cared for. Perhaps many match-making mamas and desperate daughters are looking for security in wealth, as opposed to wealth for itself. What are your thoughts?
Bingley smiled and shook his head. His time away from Darcy had done both of them good. He had seen first-hand how many matchmaking mamas had chased after Darcy and his ten thousand pounds per year, but he now realized that Darcy's perspective wasn't the only one.
It's a delicate balance, Bingley thought. And it is difficult to know which women are trustworthy.
Suddenly remembering his meeting, Bingley hurried down the stairs. Approaching the door to the private sitting room, he slowed down as he heard voices. About to enter, he stopped when he heard what was clearly voice of a young lady.
"Papa, why isn't he here?" she demanded. Bingley's eyes widened. He would recognize the tones of Miss Knoxley anywhere, although he had never heard her speak in such a fashion before.
"Patience, pet," Mr. Knoxley replied. "He probably became tired of waiting for us. Your extra preparations caused us to be late."
"I had to look my best, Papa. How else am I supposed to catch him?"
"Well, girl, if he doesn't make an offer soon, then perhaps you'll need to take the option from him," her father growled. "We need his fortune to make up what your foolish brother has lost to the gaming tables."
Bingley had heard enough. It seemed Darcy was right – there were too many young women out there who were only looking to improve their fortunes based on the poor decisions of their fathers and brothers. It was a pity; he had become a bit fond of the beautiful Miss Knoxley.
Not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, he quietly backed down the hall and reapproached the door with loud footsteps. Bingley feigned surprise when he saw Miss Knoxley and accepted their apologies for keeping him waiting.
As he listened to their chatter, he resolved to eavesdrop more frequently in the future on any young lady to whom he might take a fancy. He was also grateful it was almost time to return to Oxford, where he would have a respite from matchmaking women.
Hertfordshire, June 1809
"It's not fair!" Lizzy winced as she heard the screeching voice of thirteen-year-old Lydia. "Why does Kitty get to go to the assembly and not me?"
"Lydia, love," said Mrs. Bennet desperately, "you know that you must be fifteen years old to come out to society."
"They should make an exception, then!" demanded Lydia as she stomped her foot. "I'm the tallest and the prettiest."
"Yes, you are," said Mrs. Bennet. "Well, perhaps – "
Lydia's four sisters looked at one another, horrified. "Mama," said Lizzy hastily, "did I tell you what I heard the other day?"
Mrs. Bennet's attention was suddenly redirected at a hint of new gossip. "What?" she asked eagerly.
Lizzy thought rapidly. "Charlotte Lucas was telling me that she received a letter from a cousin in Bath. In it, the cousin said that a local family had let one of their daughters attend an assembly at fourteen."
Jane, Mary, and Kitty started at Lizzy in astonishment. "See, I told you!" crowed Lydia triumphantly.
Mrs. Bennet was about to respond, but Lizzy continued on. "You'll never guess what happened!"
"Perhaps we shouldn't gossip –" began Mary, but Jane quickly hushed her. "Go on!" Jane encouraged, finally having caught on to Lizzy's ploy.
"The entire group of guests at the assembly cut the girl and her family! The gossip lasted for months, and the family had to relocate to Brighton to get away from the snubbing."
Mrs. Bennet let out a gasp and collapsed backwards on the settee. "Oh no, Lydia, my love!" she wailed. "We cannot allow that to happen to you! You will just have to come out at fifteen like all your sisters."
Lizzy let out a quiet sigh of relief as the tension disappeared from the room. Lydia burst into sobs, stomped her feet, and ran out of the room. Mrs. Bennet quickly followed, offering Lydia sweets and a new ribbon to make up for the disappointment.
Kitty smiled gratefully at Lizzy. "Thank you, Lizzy! How fortunate Charlotte told you of her letter!"
The other girls burst into giggles, with Mary attempting to glare at Lizzy through a smile. Kitty looked bewildered. Finally, Mary explained, "I don't believe there is any such letter, Kitty."
Kitty gasped in shock. "Lizzy! How could you tell a lie to Mama?"
"Well," replied Lizzy, "we most certainly cannot allow Lydia to come out this week at the same time as you. She is much too young and foolish to attend an assembly."
Mary stated, "Normally I would condemn such behavior. After all, does not the Lord command thou shalt not bear false witness? Disguise of every sort is abhorrent. However, in a situation such as this, I cannot fault Lizzy for protecting our family's honor."
Jane nodded and said, "We would place our family's reputation at risk if Lydia were allowed to come out. As it is, having Kitty come out this week with all three of her elder sisters still unmarried is a bit unseemly."
Kitty's face fell at Jane's words. "Oh Kitty, dear," Jane said. "I do not blame you! It is not your fault that men are scarce. For that, we must blame Napoleon!"
"Yes," said Lizzy with a smile, "how terribly rude of Napoleon to start a war, all so the Bennet sisters are forced to remain unmarried."
Kitty giggled at Lizzy's words, then sobered. "But Lizzy, Jane," she asked, "are you not ashamed to be unwed at eighteen and twenty?"
Jane and Lizzy exchanged looks with Mary. "No," Jane said gently, "I am not ashamed. I would much rather remain unmarried and safe than place myself in the power of a man who would not treat me well."
Although Mary did not know of the details with Mr. Cartwright, she had heard enough of her sisters' conversations to have learned that not all mean were as indulgent as their father or Sir William Lucas. She therefore said, "Kitty, once you are married, you are then bound to that person for the entirety of your life, no matter what. We must therefore guard our charms against the undeserving of the other sex."
Kitty had never had such a serious conversation before in her life. With wide eyes, Kitty asked, "How do we know if they are undeserving?"
"Well," answered Lizzy, "first, we make certain that they treat their servants and others beneath them with kindness."
"Then we also do our best to look past their outward appearance," Mary Jane. "A handsome man may hide a vicious nature, or an ugly man may be the essence of goodness and gentility."
Jane followed her sisters by saying, "And we take our time to discover these things. One assembly and a few morning calls are not enough time to take in a man's true measure."
Looking overwhelmed, Kitty merely nodded in understanding. After a few minutes, she said, "What if I make a mistake?"
Lizzy was quick to reassure her. "That is what you have sisters for! As you become acquainted more people in society, you will gain experience. In the meantime, just follow our lead and come to us for advice."
Kitty smiled softly, "I would enjoy spending more time with my sisters."
Gaily, Jane remarked, "Well, now that you are coming out, you will be able to do so! Let us begin immediately with choosing the perfect gown for your first assembly tomorrow night!"
The four sisters eagerly made their way to the room Kitty and Mary shared together. Their happy laughter drowned out the sounds of Lydia's continuing tantrum and her mother's appeals.
Kitty spun around the assembly room, hands grasping those of her father. "How are you enjoying your first assembly?" Mr. Bennet asked her with a loving smile.
"Oh, Papa!" she cried, "I don't know when I have ever had such a wonderful time!"
"I am pleased to see you enjoying yourself, Kitty."
As the music ended, he escorted her to her sisters and mothers. "Well," he said, clasping his hands together, "now that I have done my duty in dancing with Kitty twice and the rest of you once, I believe I shall retire to the card room."
Mrs. Bennet and her daughters acquiesced, and Mr. Bennet soon disappeared into the crowd.
"Now that you are back, Kitty," said Lizzy, "we want to hear all about your dance with Mr. Fordham."
"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Mrs. Bennet. "Mr. Fordham is such a handsome young man! How fortunate we are that Mr. Jacobson found such a handsome, single curate!"
Kitty blushed. Mr. Fordham had recently come to Meryton as the new curate for the elderly vicar, Mr. Jacobson. His handsome face was frequently discussed during the morning calls of the ladies in the neighborhood.
"He was all that was kind," replied Kitty. "I appreciated his attentiveness; he asked after my interests and seemed to take pleasure in my responses."
All three of her sisters smiled. Thus far, none of them had been able to discover anything wrong about the handsome young man. His servants spoke highly of him, and his kindness was as pleasing as his face.
"I give you leave to like him," laughed Lizzy. "I daresay you have liked many a stupider person."
Protesting the unfairness of this, Kitty then said, "I am absolutely parched. I will fetch a glass of lemonade."
"Allow me to come with you," said Jane.
"Bring me a glass, too," Mrs. Bennet requested.
The two sisters linked arms and made their way through the crowd to the punch table. Picking up two cups, Kitty turned to take them back to her mother. Unfortunately, she didn't see Mr. Fordham standing just behind her, selecting his own refreshment.
"Oh dear!" cried Kitty as she bumped into him. Both glasses of lemonade dumped down the front of Mr. Fordham's jacket.
Mr. Fordham jumped in alarm, then hissed, "You stupid girl!" as he brushed at his coat. Looking up into Kitty's crumpling face, his eyes widened in shock. "M-Miss Kitty! M-my apologies!" he stammered.
Jane, having heard everything, gave Mr. Fordham a severe look. She put her arm around her weeping sister and said, "Come, Kitty, let us go to the retiring room."
Jane beckoned to Mary and Lizzy, and the four girls headed towards the small room set for wardrobe malfunctions, repairing hair styles, and other typical minor catastrophes that could occur during an assembly. Fortunately, it was empty of everyone except a maid. Lizzy dismissed the girl with a smile and a nod towards the door.
Once they were alone, Kitty dissolved into the sobs she had been holding back. Her sisters gathered around her, stroking her hair and patting her back. Jane pulled out a delicate lace handkerchief Lizzy had embroidered and wiped away Kitty's tears.
"Come now, Kitty," said Lizzy. "It can't be as bad as all that!"
"But it is!" wailed Kitty.
Jane sent Lizzy a look. "Mr. Fordham called Kitty a stupid girl," Jane informed them.
"What?" cried Lizzy and Mary in unison.
"How dare he!" said Lizzy.
"His actions are definitely not those of a man of God," added Mary in disgust.
"He t-tried to a-p-pologize," stammered Kitty, not unlike Mr. Fordham had done minutes before.
"Yes," said Jane, "but only when he realized it was Kitty, not before."
"Hmm," said Lizzy. "Well, Kitty, at least something good has come out of all of this."
"What?" sniffled Kitty as she dried her eyes.
"Two things, actually," Lizzy demurred.
"What?" exclaimed her three sisters.
"First, you have helped rid Jane of the horrid handkerchief I made for her since your tears have made it impossible to use again," laughed Lizzy.
Kitty burst into giggles through her tears.
"And second," Lizzy continued, "you have helped us learn another important characteristic of a good husband: keeping one's temper in unfortunate and unforeseen circumstances."
Kitty smiled. "At least my embarrassment was good for something!"
"Dearest, you have nothing to be embarrassed about," responded Jane. "It is he who should be mortified for his reaction."
With their spirits lifted, the four sisters rejoined the assembly guests, where they caused quite a stir when they uniformly gave Mr. Fordham the cut direct. Thus Kitty's first assembly proved to be the most memorable of them all.