A/N: Welcome back! I have been highly gratified to see how many folks have added this story to their lists. If I were Mr. Collins, I'd have some remarks prepared that are suitably fulsome whilst retaining a sense of humility. Alas, I am not. So I'll just leave my thanks and express said gratitude. I do enjoy interacting with you.
Regarding glove etiquette: Gloves were worn in social situations, saving when one was eating. Gloves off at the table. Additionally, if a woman took off her glove, manners dictated that her partner ought to do the same. Women make the rules of contact in such a situation. This did not, alas, always mean that they were appropriately displayed.
The game played in this chapter was one I found at the English History Authors blog.
Chapter Three
"I like him, Lizzy," Jane confessed the morning after the Assembly Ball. "He's just what a young man ought to be. I can't imagine why we didn't meet whilst I was in London with my uncle and aunt." Jane hesitated, biting her lip and meeting Elizabeth's eyes in the mirror. "Did, did you like him as well?"
Elizabeth leaned against the worn-smooth bedpost at her back and wondered how to answer her sister. It was clear that Jane was talking about Mr. Bingley, yet she had danced first with Mr. Darcy, so Lizzy felt she could tease her elder sister just a bit as they did up their hair for the day. Mary would be in shortly, so she had to be quick.
"Mr. Darcy? You danced with him before I did, so if you want to make a prior claim . . ." Elizabeth stepped behind her sister and pinned up the golden curls to a style that managed not to look fussy, though it did look modish. Queen Charlotte had set an approach that was a "careful but approachable" style within the past few years, and she was the pattern card for all the realm.
Jane sputtered, her cheeks pink in the looking glass. "Mr. Darcy? What? Lizzy, no! Mr. Bingley, of course!"
Mary knocked on the door before entering and Elizabeth waved her in. "Did you dance with Mr. Bingley, Mary? Our sister seems to think that dancing with a man is the first step toward falling in love."
Mary's hazel eyes gleamed behind her spectacles. "And falling in love of course leads to marriage. At least, for those of us free from Soulmarks." Her tone was overly pedantic, even as she teased her eldest sister. "Well, Jane, that means Elizabeth should take Mr. Bingley's hand to see if he has a Soulmark, should not she?"
Jane blinked and turned on the small seat before her dressing table to stare at her sisters. "Indeed you should, Lizzy. You've kept it a secret long enough."
The teasing air in the room cooled and Elizabeth sighed before turning to fall on the bed. "And so I shall continue to do, if I have anything to say about it."
Mrs. Bennet called through the door at that moment and Jane stood up, sliding Mary to the chair before the mirror. Both older sisters got to work on the youngest's hair as Elizabeth called, "Come in, Mother."
Elizabeth met her sisters' eyes in the looking glass and noted that both of them looked as she felt: uncertain. That their father had married a woman not his soulmate was a matter of some concern to them all, but they hesitated to say anything, Lizzy knew, because it was a delicate matter.
Their mother was not fond of discussing delicate things in a delicate way.
"Well! My dear girls! Whom do I congratulate first?" Mrs. Bennet entered with a swirl of a rose-patterned gown that seemed a bit light for the time of year. "Dear Jane, you have made a conquest, I daresay. Mr. Darcy asked you to dance first. You have indeed made a conquest!" She clasped her hands together rapturously. "What pin money you will have! What jewels! So vastly more rich than even Mr. Bingley!"
Elizabeth and Mary both got out of their sister's way so that Jane could say, "Mama, no. Mr. Darcy was merely being polite in asking me to dance."
"Indeed, Mama," Lizzy asserted, "for he only asked her the once." She smirked at Jane, who pressed her lips together, not liking to be the center of this type of discussion. "The longest conversation anyone had with any Darcy was Mary's with Miss Darcy. Perhaps Miss Darcy is seeking a bride for her brother?"
"Lizzy!" Mary exclaimed, flushed and thoroughly annoyed. "Mr. Darcy did not even notice me, I'm sure."
Their mother appeared struck by the idea, though, and she paced across the floor, lips forming a thoughtful O. "Does he have a Soulmark?" she wondered aloud.
All of her daughters stiffened and exchanged uncomfortable looks, but Mrs. Bennet was unaware of it as she turned to face them all. "I believe the Darcy family is related to an earl or viscount or somebody. I'll have to write to my brother Edward." Then, she blinked and cleared her throat. "Do not mention that possibility to your father, dear girls. He finds such discussions irksome. Well, then! If not Mr. Darcy, what of Mr. Bingley? He danced with all of you as well!"
Elizabeth could barely contain a low growl of frustration. To vent her feelings, she strode to the door and jerked it open. "Come, Mama. It's time for breakfast, is it not?"
The following fortnight saw invitations pouring in from all of Meryton. From dinner and cards at Lucas Lodge to a night of music at the Goldings, Elizabeth found herself meeting with the residents of Netherfield Park quite often. She learned a great deal about their new neighbors, but endeavored not to be familiar with them.
She never shook hands with Mr. Darcy or Mr. Bingley, and when possible, she managed to wear gowns that were perhaps too warm for a fire-lit drawing room. The sleeves were necessary, for one could not always be tending to a shawl.
"Long sleeves again, my Lizzy?" her father murmured to her as they rode to yet another engagement in the carriage.
After smoothing her hands over the peach blossom, striped sarcenet gown, Elizabeth tugged its lace-inset sleeves into place. "Indeed, Papa. It seemed wise."
"Quite so. And you will have a care with your gloves?"
"Well, Papa, Mrs. Hill heard from Mrs. Hastings's cook that there was to be a light supper served, tonight. I shall of course remove them for that." Elizabeth had, as soon as she had "come out", kept abreast of such matters. The staff at Longbourn did not see it as anything other than Miss Elizabeth's wish to be prepared for all situations, so they paid it no more mind than they did seeing to extra candlelight for Miss Mary's reading table or the lavender to be laid with Miss Jane's bed linens.
Elizabeth doubted anyone but her father noted her attire, in any event. No one had remarked upon it for years.
"Well, then." Her father rested his hand on hers for a moment until Mrs. Bennet was handed up into the carriage. No more words were spoken about Elizabeth's attire, for all attention was on Jane and Mary.
Much to Elizabeth's chagrin, hired staff had improperly collected gloves that had been set aside during the repast. Mrs. Hastings apologized, but with a negligent wave of her hand as the ladies removed themselves, said, "Finding good staff is so hard, in these times. I am sorry. I am sure it will all be sorted, however!"
Jane and Mary flanked Elizabeth when the ladies moved to refresh themselves, checking their hems hair and teeth in the light of numerous tallow candles. "Just have a care, Lizzy," Mary suggested in a low voice. "Indeed, what are the chances that your soulmate is amongst all those we have known all our lives?"
"Indeed, our sister has the right of it," Jane said soothingly. Relax, Lizzy. You look fit to bolt like an unbroken colt."
The image made Elizabeth chuckle before answering in a heavy, ornate tone, "I shall endeavor to listen to your wisdom, oh gracious sisters."
Truly, it did not seem as if it were going to be a problem, as the evening moved into its next phase.
"We're going to play Short Answers!" Mrs. Hastings declared after all had regathered. "Come, come, the chairs have already been arranged in the drawing room!" Sweeping toward Mr. Bennet, she slid her hand on his arm. "You will sit next to me, Mr. Bennet, and we will not allow you to sit near your daughters! They know you too well!"
Elizabeth caught her father's eye and saw the laughter in it. He flickered a glance toward Miss Darcy, who had come with the Netherfield party, and Lizzy nodded at once.
"Miss Darcy, perhaps you'd take pity on my poor father and sit next to him?" Mr. Darcy, who had looked ready to take his sister's arm and leave the house entirely, blew out a breath and nodded once, a slight flush along his jaw.
Miss Darcy, after seeing that nod, smiled broadly. "Oh, thank you, Miss Elizabeth. I was rather disconcerted about the possibility of sitting next to a stranger. Brother, do sit next to me. I'm sure," she went on, looking to Mr. Bennet, "that our hostess would not object to my brother sitting next to me."
Elizabeth met Mrs. Hastings's wide eyes. "I am sure she would not, Miss Darcy. Pray, be seated."
Mrs. Bennet was pushing Mary over in their direction, and though Elizabeth dearly wished to laugh at the unhidden horror in her younger sister's hazel eyes, she would not actually wish her ill at a social gathering such as this, so she took the seat next to Mr. Darcy to save Mary from her mother.
Mrs. Bennet was not amused, and indeed looked ready to plan a thorough dressing down of her middle daughter. Elizabeth met her mother's determined gaze and shook her head with the barest of motions before turning to greet Mr. Darcy on her right and Sir William Lucas on her left.
Mr. Darcy looked uncomfortable, his jaw seeming to be clenched and his hands in fists. She was tempted—for the briefest moment—to place her hand on his forearm as she had been known to do for members of her family when they displayed overt tension or anxiety.
She did not. Instead, she leaned a bit toward him. "Mr. Darcy, are you familiar with this game? You might enjoy it. Not the questions, perhaps, but the answers. They are to be of one word only."
He barely turned his head to answer. "I haven't played since I was in university, Miss Elizabeth." His expression seemed to indicate that it was a gross offense against Nature that he had to play it as a man of means and standing, but Elizabeth allowed that she might be reading into his expression.
"Well, then, I hope your experience stands you in good stead," she remarked, settling herself as the rest of the company was seated in the circle.
Mrs. Hastings fluttered her handkerchief and called everyone to order. "To welcome Mr. Bingley to the neighborhood," she began with a smile as though he had not been thoroughly welcomed by nearly everyone who was anyone, "I thought we'd play a game of Short Answers. We will start with Lady Lucas," she continued, with a nod to that lady, "and proceed to her right. The questions, of course, may be long, but the answers must be as short as possible—a single syllable."
"Only one?" Georgiana murmured.
"Yes," Elizabeth whispered in reply.
"If the answer is longer than one syllable, the erring player must change places with someone who is as many seats over as they used extra syllables. But only change with a person of their own sex, to keep the balance even, you see."
Low laughter rippled around the room.
"Finally, no question may be repeated, so listen carefully. A repeated question will have the errant player stand in the middle and be compelled to seek a new seat with their eyes closed!"
The laugh that followed that penalty was louder and a bit more raucous.
"Take careful note of where you are at present. All who are not required to pay a penalty for the entire round of the game will be awarded a comfit."
Sir William enjoyed parlor games and he clapped his hands. "I daresay I shall earn my comfit," he told Lizzy.
"I'm sure you shall," she returned.
Mrs. Hastings waited for the whispers to die down before clapping her hands. "Lady Lucas? Please begin!"
Elizabeth could feel the tension in Mr. Darcy's person as Lady Lucas turned to Mr. Bingley, on her right. "How did you travel here this evening, sir?"
One syllable only! Elizabeth thought, hoping he'd remember. Three seats away, she could see Jane leaning forward a little as if to encourage Mr. Bingley.
He drew a breath, smiled, and said, "Horse!"
Jane applauded and relaxed, as did Mr. Darcy. "That was not too bad," he murmured. His sister laughed softly, as did Elizabeth.
Bingley then turned to his sister, who sat to his right. "My dear sister," he began with a spirited grin, "what did you have for breakfast this morning?"
"Eggs!"
"Capital, capital!" Sir William chortled.
The questions went 'round, and Elizabeth paid careful heed. Especially when Jane asked John Lucas, "What is the capital of England?"
"E!" he shot back, all too pleased with himself.
Mr. Darcy actually laughed at that, and Mr. Bingley's expression warred between appreciation for the young man's quick answer and the fact that Jane hadn't stumped her partner.
Mr. Bingley did watch Jane almost every moment, Elizabeth noticed. His face softened and his eyes lingered as the game progressed, in ways that had nothing to do with the questions and answers.
Jane was more circumspect, but she did truly like him. They had spent several evenings in one another's company by that time, and Elizabeth could only hope the young man was not flirtatious. She vowed to seek better information.
Two young ladies and one older gentleman had to find new seats and Elizabeth was surprised to find herself a bit bereft when the taciturn Mr. Darcy had to make way for a Sir Merwin Hawkins, an elderly fellow with a gimlet gaze who sat himself down in Mr. Darcy's seat.
That gentleman froze as he realized he'd have to leave his sister, but Elizabeth did something quite daring and moved to touch the back of his hand with her own to reassure him she and her father would take care of Miss Darcy.
The shocking heat that seemed to burn from his skin to hers, however, put that reassurance quite out of her mind!
E/N: Have any of my readers played such a parlor game, before? Not quite the same as "Never Have I Ever" but also less embarrassing. ;-)
