Author's note: I had family come into town this evening, so this *might* be my last update until next week when I have time to write again. I'm sorry! But hopefully you enjoy this part of the assembly. For the person who pointed out that Elizabeth has a light, pleasing figure in canon - you're right! But I couldn't make the logic of why she had a dress in a color that didn't suit her unless she was larger-figured than Kitty. You can always adjust a dress for height, or make a big dress smaller, but you can't make a small dress larger.
Oh, and shameless plug: my second novel, The Sins of Their Fathers, which I originally posted on here on FFN as I was writing it, is now on Amazon and free with Kindle Unlimited starting today for anyone who is interested in re-reading it or weren't able to read it for the few months I had it up here.
And now, let's go to the assembly!
Chapter 6
The Bennet carriage arrived at the assembly, and its occupants quickly exited. Mr. and Mrs. Phillips entered the room, followed by their four nieces. Sir William Lucas, the master of ceremonies, greeted them at the door.
"Capital, capital!" he boomed jovially, bowing at the group. "We are delighted to have your attendance this evening! Meryton assemblies have been missing their brightest jewels these last months."
Elizabeth smiled at the kind gentleman. "Thank you, Sir William. We are glad to be here in honor of our sister's memory."
He bowed again in response. "I greatly anticipate seeing you dance with your sisters tonight."
They group thanked him again and moved into the assembly room. Elizabeth spied Charlotte across the dance floor. She excused herself from her family and went to greet her friend.
"Eliza!" Charlotte exclaimed, holding out her hands and giving Elizabeth a kiss on the cheek. "It is wonderful to see you."
"It is good to see you, too, Charlotte. I'm sorry I haven't called these last weeks."
Charlotte shook her head in response. "Between your mother's health and this abysmal weather, no one has been going out much lately."
"How are you doing?" Elizabeth asked anxiously.
Charlotte gave a small frown. "I'm afraid my father is not very accustomed to managing an estate in the best of times. With such a poor harvest, I'm concerned for the winter."
"What are your plans?" Elizabeth asked, concern lacing her voice.
With a grimace, Charlotte shrugged her shoulders. "That's the problem; we don't have any."
Elizabeth bit her lip. Lucas Lodge only had the home farm, plus one tenant on a small plot of land. While it meant fewer people to care for, it also meant fewer people to share the work. Additionally, there were several young Lucas children that needed to be provided for.
Charlotte was the only child of Sir William and his first wife. The woman died shortly after Charlotte was born, long before Sir William's elevation to knighthood. Six months after his change in station, he remarried the youngest daughter of a baronet, the current Lady Lucas. At the time, Charlotte was ten years old and desperate for a mother's love.
Lady Lucas quickly bore six children, one every two years. The youngest was currently only five years of age - much too young to be of any real help in a crisis. While Lady Lucas was kind to Charlotte, she expected her stepdaughter to contribute a significant amount of work to the house, as there were not enough funds to have a full contingent of servants.
Charlotte must have realized the weight her words had, because she suddenly pasted a smile on her face and said in an overly cheerful voice, "Has your father met the new occupants of Netherfield?"
Elizabeth pushed her worry aside and responded in kind. "No, he has not paid any calls. I was not even aware there would be new faces in our little assembly until we were leaving the house!" She looked down at her ill-fitting gown and once again smoothed it over her curves.
"My father tells me it is a large party from London. The gentleman leasing Netherfield is quite pleasant, and from what I understand, he has an income of five thousand a year.
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "Perhaps it is for the best my mother did not accompany us tonight. She would have insisted on us accepting dances, mourning or no mourning. I shall have to rely on my uncle to perform the introductions."
"It will be nice to have new faces in the neighborhood."
"Especially when one of them is unmarried," Elizabeth said with a sly grin. "After all, a single man with a fortune must be looking for a wife!"
Charlotte blushed, then teased in response. "Of course he is! What else is there for young, unmarried men to do than seek out a spouse?"
The two girls burst into giggles. Just then, the assembly doors opened, and the Netherfield party was announced: "Mr. Darcy, Mr. Hurst, Mrs. Hurst, Mr. Bingley, and Miss Bingley."
Elizabeth watched eagerly as the five strangers came into the room. "Do you know which is which?" she asked Charlotte.
"The man with the red hair is Mr. Bingley. The young woman at his side must be Miss Bingley, as the elder sister is married. There, do you see? Holding her husband's arm?"
She scanned the faces of each newcomer. Bingley sported a wide smile, along with his sister, Mrs. Hurst. Miss Bingley's face almost looked to be sneering. Mr. Hurst looked bored, and Mr. Darcy's face was completely devoid of any emotion at all.
Mrs. Phillips beckoned Elizabeth over from across the room, where she was standing with the remainder of Bennet daughters. "Forgive me, Charlotte, but my aunt calls for me," Elizabeth excused herself and crossed the room.
"Lizzy, Lizzy!" hissed Mrs. Phillips loudly as Elizabeth approached. "What do you think of the gentlemen?"
"Mr. Hurst appears to enjoy food very much," Elizabeth smirked.
"Oh, what does Mr. Hurst have to do with anything? He is married!" cried Mrs. Phillips.
Elizabeth regretted her witticism, as it caused Mrs. Phillips to raise her voice even louder in her pique.
"No, I mean Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy! Mr. Bingley is very rich, but he is nothing compared to Mr. Darcy. He has ten thousand a year! Is he not the most handsome man you have ever seen? He would do very well for Jane."
Jane blushed and Elizabeth winced as her aunt's voice seemed to echo across the room. She looked towards the Netherfield party and saw the younger woman staring at them with a disdainful sneer. Miss Bingley saw Elizabeth looking towards them, lifted her nose, and turned to whisper to Mr. Darcy.
Flushing hotly, Elizabeth turned her back on the Netherfield group and forced herself to speak in a light tone. "I dare say he would not be half so handsome if he were not so rich. But come, Aunt Phillips, let us wait for an introduction and discover their characters before we settle on which will be best for Jane."
"Ahem."
Elizabeth turned back around to see Mr. Phillips standing there with Mr. Bingley. Mr. Phillip cleared his throat a second time and said, "My dear, Mr. Bingley has requested to become acquainted with you and the girls."
"Why, certainly!" simpered Mrs. Phillips.
Mr. Phillips made the introductions, and Mr. Bingley quickly requested a dance with Jane. Poor Jane turned a brilliant red and did not know which way to look. She looked pleadingly at Elizabeth.
"I'm very sorry, sir," Elizabeth interjected, "but my sisters and I are in mourning for a younger sister. We have attended tonight in her memory, but we will only be standing up with each other. I'm certain, however, that Jane would appreciate some company. Lydia and I were going to dance the next, and Mary was to attend our aunt."
Mary looked surprised at this statement but fortunately said nothing to contradict Elizabeth's plans. Mr. Bingley was clearly taken with Jane's beauty, and Elizabeth wished to allow her sister time to come to know the man without the interference of Aunt Phillips's machinations.
Bingley fetched Jane a drink and escorted her to a nearby seat, while Mary pulled her aunt in another direction. Lydia giggled and bowed to Elizabeth. "Care to dance, Miss Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth grinned and curtsied in return. "I would be delighted."
The two girls took a place on the dance floor just as the musicians started up the next song. The following half hour was one of Elizabeth's most joyous times in a long while. The stress that stemmed from Kitty's loss, Mrs. Bennet's illness, and the upcoming winter were forgotten as she skipped, clapped, and hopped with her youngest sister.
At the end of the dance, while the guests were applauding, Elizabeth whispered to Lydia, "Trade places with Mary. I will dance with her while you distract Aunt Phillips. Then you and Mary can dance if Mr. Bingley is still speaking with Jane."
Lydia nodded and dashed off, while Elizabeth collected a drink from the punch table. She was approached by Mrs. Knowles, a resident of Meryton who had recently married. "I must commend you on your attendance here tonight, Miss Elizabeth," the young woman said. "I think it is a very good thing for you to do, to attend in dear Miss Kitty's honor. She is sorely missed, but I know she would have wanted to see you all dancing tonight."
Elizabeth gave her late sister's friend a smile. "With the weather being the way it is, we knew this may be the last assembly for quite some time. It would be quite unfair for Lydia to miss out."
"And you girls as well, I dare say," said Mrs. Smith, flashing her eyes towards Jane and Mr. Bingley, who were still speaking together.
Just then, Mary come up and collected Elizabeth for the next dance. Elizabeth made her excuses, and she joined her middle sister on the dance floor.
Mary was not as skilled a dancer as her other sisters, which in the past had caused her to retreat to a corner of the room with a book. Spending more time with Lydia had brought Mary out of her shell somewhat, but her coordination on the dance floor still left something to be desired. Thus, Elizabeth took the gentleman's part and did her best to guide her sister through the dance.
"Whoops!" Elizabeth cried as she turned the wrong way, causing Mary to bump in Robert Goulding, who was dancing very seriously with Maria Lucas. Mary turned an alarming shade of red, and Elizabeth hastily said, "My apologies, Mr. Goulding! I took Mary in the wrong direction!"
Mr. Goulding, who was a few years older than Jane and had known the Bennets his entire life, gave them a gentle smile. "Not at all," he said, pausing to bow gallantly. "Were you not in mourning and refusing all dances, I should be asking Miss Mary to stand up myself to show her how the man's part is be done properly."
Mary's red face brushed a more furious crimson. Elizabeth gave Mr. Goulding a curious look as he continued smiling at Mary. "That is very kind of you, sir. Perhaps later you can fetch Mary a glass of punch and sit with her for a dance."
Mr. Goulding's grin widened. "I would be delighted."
Elizabeth pulled a gaping Mary back into the dancers. "Lizzy," hissed Mary.
"What?" Elizabeth asked innocently. "Do you not wish to have a glass of punch after the dancing?"
"It would be most improper to sit down with him while we are mourning!"
Elizabeth gave her sister a severe look. "Do you believe Jane is doing anything improper right now?"
Mary glanced at Jane, who had been joined in her conversation by Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley. "Well, no, but that is completely different."
Elizabeth turned away from Mary as the dance had them briefly switch partners. "How so?" she asked, once she had returned to Mary.
"Jane is being gracious to new acquaintances. Her conversation gives no cause for blame."
"Ah," replied Elizabeth in understanding, "and you feel you would be betraying Kitty by giving the appearance of accepting a young man's attentions during mourning?"
Mary nodded.
The dance came to an end. As they applauded the music, Elizabeth said, "My dear Mary, I believe Kitty would be the first to congratulate you on receiving a young man's attentions, no matter when they occurred. She was always urging you to be more coy. If you do not believe me, ask Lydia when you dance with her."
The conversation was interrupted when Mr. Goulding approached them and requested Mary's company for the next dance. Mary looked helplessly at Elizabeth, who smoothly said, "I believe Lydia wished to stand up with Mary for this dance, as it is one of her favorites. Perhaps the next?"
Mr. Goulding, who was a usually reserved and severe gentleman, gave Mary small smile, not unlike the one he had given her during the dance. "It would be my pleasure."
Elizabeth made her way across to her Aunt Phillips and Lydia, who were ensconced in a corner. Lydia leaped to her feet and dashed across the room to Mary, eager to once again be dancing.
Mrs. Phillips turned towards Elizabeth. "Did you see how long Mr. Bingley spoke with Jane? Of course, he is standing up with his sister now, but it was clear he did not want to leave her side! Mark my words, we'll have a Christmas wedding."
Elizabeth looked over at Jane, who was in conversation with Mrs. Hurst while Bingley stood up with his younger sister. "Before you have them married, Aunt, we must first get out of mourning. That should give them plenty of time to determine if she could love him."
Her aunt ignored this comment and continued prattling about the grand match Jane could make with Mr. Bingley. Her voice faded into the background as Elizabeth watched the rest of the assembly with satisfaction. While it was true they were in mourning and had a difficult winter ahead, she was pleased for Mary's apparent conquest of the solemn Robert Goulding. She noted he stood to the side of the room with his mother, his eyes fixed as a smiling Mary spun on the floor with a giggling Lydia.
Now if only Mr. Bingley can prove to be a good man in addition to being a wealthy one! she thought. I wonder what brings them to Netherfield? This is not exactly the time to be leasing an estate.
The dance ended, and Mr. Bingley walked their direction. He smiled at them before going on past the next column. Her eyes followed him, and she was surprised to see he was speaking to Mr. Darcy. The taller gentleman leaned against the column, stoically watching the revelry. Bingley began to speak, and - given their proximity - Elizabeth could not help but overhear.
"I say, Darcy, I hate seeing you stand about here in such a stupid manner. Why are you not dancing? Or at least speaking with someone?"
"You have been spending time with the only handsome girl in the room," Darcy said dryly.
"I must admit, she is an angel." Bingley looked around and spied Elizabeth, who hastily averted her gaze.
"Look, there is one of her sisters. She is quite pretty as well. Allow me introduce you."
Elizabeth could feel the heat of Darcy's gaze on her. "She is tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me, especially not in such a gown. Bingley, I am in no humor to give consequence who a young lady who cannot find a single dance partner and has no concept of proper mourning behavior. Go, return to your young lady, and enjoy her smiles."
Bingley gaped at his friend, opening his mouth without any sound coming out. Finally he gave a severe frown and said, "If that is how you feel, I shall leave you to your own clearly superior company."
With that retort, Bingley brushed passed his friend, knocking his shoulder in Darcy's chest.
Elizabeth felt tears stinging her eyes as she smoothed Kitty's unfortunately-colored gown over her lap. She quickly blinked them away, however, as she heard her Aunt Phillips say hotly, "Well! Have you ever seen such a proud, disagreeable man?"
"Perhaps he is not quite so handsome now, Aunt?" Elizabeth said, feebly attempting to affect a cheery tone.
"No, indeed! Quite ugly, now that I see him more closely."
For once, Elizabeth did not mind how far her aunt's voice carried.
The woman's shrill voice hit Darcy's ears, aggravating the pain that pulsed behind his eyes. He leaned his head back on the pillar and let out an audible grunt.
You moron.
He had known the second the words left his mouth that they were a mistake. He just wanted to get Charles to leave him alone and never dreamed he would be overheard by the woman in question.
To tell the truth, he had no idea which of the sisters Charles was speaking about. There were several of them, all wearing ill-fitting dresses with black bombazine accents in unusual spots.
It's not my fault these women don't know how to behave in mourning. If they wished to avoid untoward comments, they should have remained at home as their situation demands.
Even as he though the words, however, he knew they were unfair. Their uncle was a solicitor; perhaps they did not know how polite society was supposed to behave. He looked around the room, taking a closer look at the girls. They were each uncommonly pretty, except perhaps one of them, but even she could not be called ugly. What was more surprising was how easily the young ladies were accepted. Based on their dress, he would have expected to see their neighbors snubbing them. Instead, the other guests appeared to go out of their way to interact with the sisters.
This amount of analysis was all Darcy's exhausted brain could muster. He once again checked his pocket watch, eager for the assembly to be over. Groaning, he saw that it was only five minutes later than the last time he checked.
Perhaps I can sneak out and sleep in the carriage.
The memory of the cold ride over had him quickly dismiss that idea. Besides, the shrill voice a few feet away niggled at his conscience. With a heavy sigh, he pushed his tired frame away from the support of the wall; he knew what he must do. Putting one foot in front of the other, he walked towards his friend, who was about to stand up with Mrs. Hurst.
"Bingley, would you be willing to make that introduction you offered a few minutes ago?"
Eyes widening in surprise, Bingley nodded. "Louisa, will you excuse me for one moment? I believe there is still some time before the dance begins."
Mrs. Hurst nodded her agreement and returned to her seat, hand resting on the gentle swell of her stomach.
Darcy gave Bingley a questioning look, who shrugged and said, "She insisted on dancing at least once with me, in spite of her malaise."
Bingley then led Darcy over to where the loud woman was sitting, the niece he disparaged at her side. His friend performed introductions, then swiftly disappeared to stand up with his sister.
Both ladies stared at Darcy in surprise, and his weary brain froze.
Drat, what do I say now?