Making Matches

Disclaimer: I don't own Pride and Prejudice. All recognisable characters, content, or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

Part One: Autumn

Chapter Four: The Lodge

The days in Hertfordshire drift on by. The locals host a series of social events, many of which Elizabeth attends with her relatives. There is often an overlap in scheduling, however, or there are those gatherings the residents of Longbourn choose to forego, and as a result - and without truly intending to - Elizabeth somehow manages to avoid encountering the Netherfield party until late in the second week of October.

The exception is Mr Darcy, who calls on Longbourn every other day but Sunday. He seeks out Elizabeth more often than not, wherein they discuss Literature and Art and Music under the watchful eyes of Jane and Mary.

Sometimes, they speak of Politics. Other times, they share tales of their siblings, parents, cousins. They walk the gardens of Longbourn, and drink copious amounts of tea in Aunt Francine's favourite parlour.

When he doesn't seek out Elizabeth, Mr Darcy visits with Uncle Thomas, discusses Homer and Socrates and Aristotle over chess and port and other such gentlemanly things. Such occasions allow Grandmother Grafton - whose grudge against the Darcy family knows no bounds - to chide Elizabeth for her growing fascination with the Heir of Pemberley.

Not that Elizabeth hears her increasingly strident reproofs. They fall on deaf ears as Mr Darcy gladly - even cheerfully - debates with Elizabeth, as he listens to her opinions, challenges her preconceived notions as she challenges his own. Outside of her family, a gentleman has never treated Elizabeth as his intellectual equal, and it is thrilling.

Truly, Elizabeth does not know what to do with herself, or with the gentleman in question, but as Lucas Lodge hosts their neighbours for yet another soiree, it is neither the time, nor the place, for such ruminations.

"I had begun to wonder if your family existed outside of Longbourn," Mr Darcy informs her, once all of the usual pleasantries have been observed, "I have not seen you in society since the assembly."

Elizabeth laughs. "How would you explain their presence there?"

"An apparition," Mr Darcy's answer is quick, "The imaginings of an overtired mind."

"No amount of imagination could conjure up the extent of Grandmother's poor behaviour that evening." The reminder brings back all of the embarrassment from the event in question, and she shakes her head, rueful, her cheeks stained pink. "In any case, it is an odd situation. I thought there might be a conspiracy afoot."

Elizabeth would not put it passed Grandmother Grafton, though how the elderly widow might accomplish it is beyond her. The servants, presumably.

Mr Darcy is amused. "Dare I ask?"

"It is no mystery. My Grandmother Grafton disapproves of you and your party. I considered that she might have intervened to ensure we would not cross paths."

Before a nonplused Mr Darcy can respond, they are joined by Miss Bingley, adorned in yet another garish, uncomplimentary shade of orange. She wraps a proprietary hand around Mr Darcy's elbow, and Elizabeth is a subsequent witness to the fascinating site of the gentleman's expression as it rapidly turns to stone.

"Here you are, Mr Darcy," Miss Bingley says, her tone saccharine, "I had wondered where you drifted off to."

"Here I am."

"And who is your companion?"

Elizabeth is tempted to refuse an introduction to the woman, whose ambitions to climb the social ladder precede her. As Miss Bingley's social superior, it is Elizabeth's prerogative to do so, and it would be exceedingly gratifying to wipe the supercilious smile off the other woman's face.

Mr Darcy tilts his head, questioning, and Elizabeth nods her resigned ascent. She is not about to make things difficult for Jane. Her cousin remains uncertain of her thoughts regarding Mr Bingley, but until she does figure them out, Elizabeth will do everything she is able to support her.

Even if that means she must endure Caroline Bingley's company.

"Lady Elizabeth, may I introduce Miss Caroline Bingley, lately of Netherfield Park? Miss Bingley, this is Lady Elizabeth Bennet, of Euston Hall, in Suffolk. I made Lady Elizabeth's acquaintance some months ago, but her brother, Lord Euston, has been a valued friend for many years."

Miss Bingley's disdainful expression shifts to something more pleasant, and her eyes gleam with newfound interest. "It is a pleasure, Lady Elizabeth."

"I am sure it is."

Mr Darcy coughs into his hand - it sounds suspiciously like a laugh - and takes the opportunity to remove himself from Miss Bingley's possessive talons. He does not, however, excuse himself from the conversation.

If their roles were reversed, Elizabeth is uncertain if she would be so polite.

"How do you find Hertfordshire, my Lady?"

"I find it quite pleasant, thank you for asking," Elizabeth replies, "Have you enjoyed your time in Netherfield? I have been reliably informed that it is a fine estate."

"It serves its purpose."

Unsure of how she ought to respond to such an answer as that, Elizabeth glances at Mr Darcy, but his gaze is on the rest of the room. It is a pleasant setting, if smaller than Elizabeth is accustomed to, and the guests are pleased to be there. Miss Lucas speaks with Colonel Forster, newly-arrived in Meryton, and preceding the Militia encampment from Surrey. Mr Bingley orbits Jane, unapologetic and unabashed in his infatuation. Mary is clustered with a group of other gentlewomen her age, in easy conversation with friends she has known her entire life, and Elizabeth is pleased to see her so comfortable.

Such comfort and familiarity will not be something she experiences often in London, but that is an issue to worry about in the New Year.

"Do you disagree with your brother's plans?"

It is a notion that surprises Elizabeth. In correspondence from her friends, she has discovered that Miss Bingley is rather determined to rid herself of the 'taint' of trade. As such, she assumed the tradesman's daughter would be jumping for joy because of her brother's plans, but in actuality, the other woman seems far from satisfied.

"I am sure there are finer estates elsewhere," Miss Bingley explains, "Do you not agree, Mr Darcy? Surely, Derbyshire would be a far finer place to settle. Hertfordshire is so very… Isolated."

Elizabeth hides her mirth behind her fan, unsure which of Miss Bingley's opinions is more absurd. As she does so, Mr Darcy grist his teeth, impatient and irate, and cannot seem to decide if he ought to put up with the woman's nonsense, or if he ought to excuse himself before he says something he might regret later.

"Netherfield Park is such an easy distance from London, though," Elizabeth interjects, "The travel time from Derbyshire is far more arduous, is it not?"

Mr Darcy nods, terse. "Without causing harm to the horses, it is no less than three days by carriage."

"That may be so," Miss Bingley concedes, "But I am yet to be convinced that Hertfordshire is the best place for my brother to settle."

"That is Bingley's decision to make," Mr Darcy asserts.

"Perhaps."

Elizabeth flounders for a means to salvage their conversation, and she finds unexpected support in the approach of Miss Lucas. She is smiling, flushed after what seems to have been a pleasant conversation with Colonel Forster, and Elizabeth does not hesitate to grasp the opportunity with both hands.

"Miss Lucas, I have not yet had an opportunity to speak with you this evening. Are you well?"

"I am, thank you. And yourself?"

They continue in that fashion, exchanging idle pleasantries about their wellbeing, the weather, the soiree.

Miss Bingley excuses herself in due course, and Mr Darcy contents himself with listening to their conversation.

"I have decided to open up the pianoforte. Mary has already agreed to play for the company this evening. Would you be interested in performing? I understand you are rather gifted."

"Mary is far more skilled than I," Elizabeth demurs.

"Euston has praised your talent," Mr Darcy interjects. He makes eye contact with Elizabeth, averts his gaze quickly, and continues, "If you decide to play, I would be pleased to turn the pages for you."

Miss Lucas' gaze is expectant, her expression entirely too knowing for Elizabeth's comfort.

Elizabeth laughs, rueful and sheepish and resigned. "With an offer such as that, how can I possibly refuse?"