Mr. Bennet looked up from his cup of tea to gaze at the clock. It was only a few hours before the assembly at Meryton. Normally Mr. Bennet enjoyed having his afternoon tea with the rest of the family. But today was an exception. Today there was the much-awaited assembly, and it was only a matter of time before the house was in a complete uproar as the ladies of his household frantically prepared for the evening's festivities. No, having tea with the family was out of the question. It was more peaceful and much safer in his study.
Mr. Bennet slowly sipped his tea, deep in thought about his daughters. Each one was different and each possessed different qualities.
Jane was the most beautiful and graceful, with a kindness that was unparalleled.
Lizzy was sharp, witty and brave, with a strong constitution.
Mary was an intellectual, and very skilled at the piano forte.
Kitty…well, Kitty had yet to find her own identity. For the time being, she was Lydia's shadow.
Lydia was "vivacious, and good-humored"…at least that was Mrs. Bennet's description of her. In his opinion Lydia was a bit silly and uncontrolled.
He loved them all dearly and though it was not proper for a parent to have preferences, Lizzy had always been his favorite. Apart from her personality, which mirrored much of his own, Lizzy possessed a quality that none of his other daughters had. She possessed his mother's gift, her powers. Slowly Mr. Bennet's thoughts turned to his beloved mother and all his memories of her. Just then, there was a knock at the door.
Mr. Bennet set down his cup just as Mrs. Hill came into the study to retrieve the tray.
"Have the ladies finished their tea?" he asked.
"Almost, sir. Betsy has just gone to retrieve their tea things."
Mr. Bennet nodded and rose to close the door once Mrs. Hill left. As he turned back towards his desk, he whispered to himself "one…two…three..." and as expected he heard Lydia squeal with laughter followed by Kitty's attempt to match Lydia's squeals.
Mr. Bennet chuckled to himself, "and so it begins" he thought.
Having finished their tea, Mrs. Bennet herded the girls upstairs so that they could start to get ready. The next several hours were pure mayhem. Anyone who was not familiar with the Bennet household would find it to be quite a spectacle. Mrs. Bennet was constantly calling out to the maids or to one of her daughters, shouting orders, opinions and complaining about her nerves. Lydia and Kitty were in their own world, fighting and complaining about dresses and ribbons up until the last minute.
"Betsy! Please help Jane with her hair! She must look her best for Mr. Bingley and his party!" Mrs. Bennet yelled.
"Lizzy, why have you not started getting ready?"
"Mary, that dress is much too simple! Go change dear!"
"Lydia! Kitty! Stop fighting over those ribbons!"
"We haven't' much time and none of you are presentable yet! Oh, you girls do play on my nerves so," she finally complained, exasperated.
Lizzy, though finding all this quite comical, felt bad for her poor ma'ma, who always got worked up so easily. She returned from the kitchen with a glass of lemonade and took it to her mother, who by now had worn herself out with so much worry that she was slumped in a chair in the corner desperately fanning herself.
"Drink this, ma'ma. It will refresh you."
Mrs. Bennet took a large drink and finally managed to regain her composure.
Over the next hour the girls helped each other with their hair and their gowns and just as the carriage pulled up front, the five lovely ladies descended the stairs and headed to the drawing room for their mother's final inspection.
"Oh! You girls do look lovely!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. "Don't they Mr. Bennet?"
Mr. Bennet simply smiled and nodded.
"I would not be surprised if there were to be marriage proposals within the fortnight", Mrs. Bennet continued.
Lydia and Kitty giggled as they considered their mother's words. Lizzy and Jane knew better than to encourage their mother's fantasies, and simply smiled. Mary remained unaffected.
As the men waited for the Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst to get ready, they sat quietly in the drawing room, each deep in their own thoughts.
Mr. Darcy was trying to control the feeling of dread from being too evident upon his face. He was uncomfortable in such public settings. He did not possess Bingley's charm or ease of conversing with others.
Mr. Bingley was trying to contain his excitement about making new acquaintances, especially that of Mr. Bennet's eldest daughter. He had heard she was the most beautiful young lady in all of Hertfordshire.
Mr. Hurst was wondering how long they would have to stay at the assembly. He wanted nothing more than to return early and enjoy a nice glass or two of port.
Mr. Darcy glanced at the clock; the assembly would have already started. He let out a small sigh. Though he disliked such social situations, he absolutely detested the idea of arriving late. Another fifteen minutes passed before the ladies finally descended the stairs.
Mr. Darcy's eyes grew large at the sight of Miss Bingley, or rather at the sight of her dress. It was made of the brightest orange fabric he had ever seen. And atop her hair were three long wisps of feathers of the same unpalatable orange hue. Being the newcomers, he was already aware that their group would draw attention from the crowd. But now owing to Miss Bingley dress and embellishments, the possibility of anyone at the assembly not taking notice of them was impossible.
Miss Bingley noticed Mr. Darcy's glance before he quickly looked away. But she misunderstood it to be one of admiration or even lust rather than disgust. She smiled proudly and held her head high as she joined the gentleman in the drawing room.
"I'll call for the carriage to be brought around," Mr. Bingley said as he jumped to his feet.
"What's the hurry, Charles?" Miss Bingley asked casually.
Mr. Bingley looked confused.
"It's not as if our being a bit late would be offending anyone important. And besides, how else is our party to make a grand entrance if we're not fashionably late?" Miss Bingley giggled with Mrs. Hurst joining in.
Mr. Darcy was furious. He left his seat and went to stand by the window. Mr. Bingley knew of Mr. Darcy's dislike for tardiness and he went ahead and asked the footman to bring the carriage around.
Jane and Lizzy danced the first two dances, but as there was a scarcity of gentlemen they found that they were free for the next two sets. They decided to enjoy some refreshments out in the garden with their dear friend Miss Charlotte Lucas. Once outside the group was pleasantly surprised upon finding an empty bench and eagerly took their seats.
Behind where the ladies were sitting was a very tall hedge that separated the garden from the path that led to the assembly hall. As the ladies were enjoying their drinks they noticed an unfamiliar carriage turning onto the path. Lizzy was too curious and Charlotte too excited to see Mr. Bingley and his party. They turned towards the hedge and attempted to catch a glimpse. Jane did not approve of their behavior. But soon she too turned to take a look. It was rather difficult to see very much through the hedge; mostly they were only able to distinguish several forms stepping out of the carriage. However, they could hear their conversations quite clearly.
"Cheer up Darcy! We are here to make new acquaintances and enjoy a night of merriment!" Mr. Bingley beamed.
"Do not waste your time with me Bingley." Mr. Darcy said sternly. Naturally, his mood had not improved with the carriage ride. "I'm sure there are no young ladies here handsome enough to tempt me." Mr. Bingley was a bit dejected, but he cheered up within moments with the hope that once inside, his friend's attitude may change.
Overhearing Mr. Darcy, Lizzy was outraged! "Have you ever heard such arrogance!" she murmured.
Miss Bingley was only too quick to agree with Mr. Darcy. "Quite right Mr. Darcy. I doubt that we'll find even a single young lady here tonight who is half as beautiful or accomplished as the ladies in town."
Lizzy's outrage had now turned into anger. Jane noticed her frustration, but she also noticed that Lizzy was tightly holding one hand in the other and her eyes were slowly beginning to sparkle. Jane began to worry. "Let it be Lizzy" she whispered so softy that only Lizzy could hear. Lizzy took a few deep breaths and tried to compose herself.
Miss Bingley, however, felt it was necessary to continue her criticism.
"Do not get your hopes up Charles. I'm sure even the town beauty, Miss Bennet, is only just tolerable," she smirked.
That was it! Lizzy would not tolerate anyone saying such things about her Jane. Lizzy could not control herself anymore. Worry crept into Jane's eyes as she whispered, "Lizzy, no!", but it was too late.
Lizzy eyes began to sparkle, she focused her energy and with a flick of her wrist she summoned a gust of wind towards the group.
Mr. Darcy didn't seem too phased by the sudden gust and merely stepped aside.
Miss Bingley, however, couldn't seem to escape as easily and began to scream at the sudden force of the wind. The gust caused two of the three feathers in her hat to break and hang awkwardly over her face. Mrs. Hurst did not scream, rather she just held onto her hat to prevent it from getting damaged or flying away.
In a matter of moments, the wind subsided.
Jane gave Lizzy a disapproving look but was satisfied to find that the sparkle in Lizzy's eyes was fading.
Fortunately, Charlotte didn't notice any of what was happening between Jane and Lizzy.
"Did you see that gust of wind?" she exclaimed "Perhaps we should head inside incase the winds return."
The girls agreed and all three headed inside.
On the other side of the hedge, the entire group was looking at Miss Bingley, unsure of what to do. Normally she welcomed such attention, but not this time. Both Mrs. Hurst and Mr. Bingley stepped forward to try to straighten out the now-bent feathers. But the minute they stepped back the feathers fell right back onto Miss Bingley's face.
Mr. Darcy was standing with Mr. Hurst watching the siblings desperately trying to calm their sister.
"And I thought the outfit couldn't get any worse," chuckled Mr. Hurst.
Mr. Darcy pursed his lips, desperately trying to quell a laugh or smile from escaping.