Caroline Bingley greeted two of her guests with feigned enthusiasm. She allowed a brief buss on the cheek by her brother and offered a brief, limp hand to Peter. The amenities over, she moved in on her prey, "Mr. Darcy," she cried, "welcome to Netherfield!" She wrapped her arm around his and clutched it firmly, enjoying the feel of his arm against her flat breast. Darcy tried not to squirm and Bingley turned away in embarrassment. Peter, however, fixed his eyes on Caroline with undisguised interest. Most ladies of the Ton showed a shade of propriety but she had shown absolutely no subtlety which surprised him. For someone who took great pride in her friendship with Darcy as well as all manner of appropriate behavior, she had just made a very serious mistake, one which a decent man might find unforgivable. He allowed a trace of pity to linger on his face before following Bingley up the stairs where the Hursts were waiting to greet them all.
Louisa embraced Bingley with affection, "Netherfield is beautiful Charles, I know you'll be happy here."
"Well done!" Hurst offered.
The Hursts welcomed Peter with good cheer and waited patiently for Caroline to make it up the stairs clutching the hapless Darcy. When the pair gained the top of the stairs, Hurst stuck his hand out to Darcy...something he seldom did... and Caroline was forced to release her death grip on Darcy's arm. For Hurst's act of good breeding he received a venomous glare from Caroline and a nod of thanks from her guest. Darcy took Louisa's hand and squeezed it with affection before escaping into the house.
By the time he was shown his room, Darcy was seething and unnerved. The next few weeks were going to prove unendurable unless he could get Caroline off his back. There had been a time when her arts and allurements had been less indelicate and almost comical but her grip on him when she greeted him was downright blatant and had left him in stunned disbelief. That a woman would deliberately press her breast against him was shocking. That she would commit such an overt act witnessed by two men, one of whom was her own brother, went beyond the pale. Her fixation on him had to come to an end. His ego was healthy enough to realize that her obsession had nothing to do with him personally, but only with his wealth and Pemberley. He could see no way out of his dilemma except to talk to Bingley which would be demeaning to both of them. Their friendship went back so far that he was loathe to bring up the subject fearing to jeopardize their relationship, but it was that or he would have to rent a room at the local inn and that would be an insult of the highest order.
After an extremely slow wash-up as he considered all his options he descended the stairs and entered one of the smaller dining room and to his surprise found everyone already seated. Caroline was at one end of the table with the the Hursts on either side of her. At the other end sat Bingley with Peter sitting next to him.
When Caroline looked up and saw him standing in the doorway she didn't try to hide her consternation, "Charles! How come you to tell me that Mr. Darcy was not lunching with us?"
"My mistake, Caroline."
Darcy breathed a sigh of relief and took his place next to Bingley. His food would be more digestible now that he wouldn't have to play footsies with his hostess.
"Very careless of you Charles!" She addressed Darcy in a softer manner, "and how are your rooms to your liking, Mr. Darcy? I hope you approve of my taste? I took great pains in choosing the most tasteful rooms that were available...of which there are few, I'm sorry to say. I fear the owners of this park have stayed too long in the country." She snorted at her witticism.
Darcy gritted his teeth at the sound. "Excellent, as always, Miss Bingley," he replied. To Hurst, he asked, "so tell me, Hurst, how do you find Meryton? Are there many sights to behold in the village? By Bingley's account there are many young ladies to feast one's eyes upon. I'm looking forward to finding out for myself after lunch. What say we walk into town later?"
"What an agreeable plan," replied Hurst with a broad grin. You will not be disappointed, Darcy. Soft muslins abound in town...such a relief from silk and plumes." He refrained from glancing at his sister-in-law who was dressed for a visit from the queen.
Caroline's lips thinned, "I saw nothing in that dirty little village to recommend itself to a gentleman such as yourself, Mr. Darcy."
Peter decided to join the fun. "Ah, but Miss Bingley, you can't see women the same way that men do. We red-blooded men find country lassies entrancing creatures. I might add that upon such occasions our thoughts can be less than gentlemanly. What say you, Darcy?"
Darcy arched a brow at his new friend, "indeed, I find they lack all the studied arts of the ladies in Town. As a matter of fact, while in Kent recently, I met a lovely young woman who makes her home in the country. Quite delightful and well read. We had many debates and she could hold her own which made her a pleasure to talk to."
"I know that feeling," Peter replied. "as intelligent and witty as I may appear to the present company, I do occasionally enjoy being put in my place by a pretty young woman. It makes me feel that the fair lady in question has been paying attention and possesses a modicum of sense."
Everyone at the table laughed except Caroline Bingley who eyed the young man with distaste. "Ladies who have decided opinions are not a part of my social group, Mr. Postlewaite."
"Then I am very sorry for you, Miss Bingley. It must make your tea parties very dull affairs."
Bingley, who had remained quiet through these exchanges finally spoke, "there is an assembly tomorrow night. I hope everyone has brought their dancing shoes"
"I can imagine what an insipid affair that will be," Caroline said.
"Then," her brother responded, "you need not go, Caroline. I'm sure you have enough fashion magazines to keep you occupied for a few hours."
Caroline's face went scarlet. Her eyes flicked to Darcy who studied his plate with interest. Whatever she might have said, she thought better of it and remained silent for rest of the meal.
Darcy finished his excellent lunch feeling relief wash over him. There was not going to be a need for him to speak to Bingley. His three friends had decided to take matters into their own hands. Unless Caroline was extremely dense, she had to understand that he had no interest in her or he would not talk so freely about other women. At least he hoped so. He would still have to take a care when he met with Elizabeth. If Caroline guessed that Elizabeth was the woman he found so delightful there was no telling what her reaction might be though he suspected that Elizabeth Bennet could take care of herself. If fact, for amusement purposes only, it might be a lot of fun to watch two such fundamentally different woman facing off with each other. There was no doubt who would win the battle of words. Elizabeth might not appreciate poetry, but Darcy was of the opinion that if she could best him, she could dispense with the Caroline Bingleys of the world. His real concern was for Bingley and Jane Bennet. With the mood Caroline was in she would not take too kindly to Elizabeth's sister, but then again he was probably worrying too much. Bingley had proved that he could handle his sister if he chose to and if Jane Bennet was as sweet as Bingley had described her, and his affection true, his natural inclination to protect a woman would keep her from words that could draw blood. He could only hope.
In town they did not run into anyone they knew much to Bingley's disappointment though he tried unsuccessfully to hide it. Peter, however, wasn't fooled. As for Darcy, whatever he might be feeling did not show on his face. Peter could imagine the kind of woman that Bingley would be interested in...blond and saintly... but what kind of woman would appeal to Darcy was harder to fathom; he was such a reticent man, never giving his innermost thoughts away. He could not imagine Darcy being interested in the kind of woman that would appeal to Bingley; Louisa Hurst was just a bit too placid and Caroline Bingley made his skin crawl. "Do you enjoy dancing, Darcy?" he asked.
Darcy was surprised at the question, "not particularly."
Hurst volunteered more information. "The only pleasure to be derived by Darcy's dancing is for the spectators, especially when he dances with Caroline. She points her nose in the air and looks bored...her idea of sophistication...while he resembles a colicky horse."
Bingley hooted at the picture Hurst was painting and protested. "More like a horse in need of exercise and ready to bolt from the barn."
"Do be quiet, both of you," Darcy admonished lightly.
Peter looked for a sign of annoyance from this tall distinguished looking man but saw only resigned amusement. The more he saw of this man, the more he liked. On the surface he appeared to be cold and humorless, but scratch that surface and Darcy became a delightful companion, one who could be teased and not take offense. A woman might have difficulty dealing with such a man however; might find him too cold. It would be interesting to see how things worked out for Darcy. As a disinterested observer of the human condition it might be amusing to further their romance if it was in his power. Though dancing was not one of his strengths, he was looking forward to the assembly on the morrow.
At Longbourne the following night Elizabeth could think of nothing but Darcy. She longed to see him, to hear his voice, but she did not want to attend the assembly. She was still in shock over Lydia's elopement in the middle of the night and she felt guilty for the terrible things she had said at the dinner table. She feared in her heart that it had pushed Lydia to take desperate measures. She was thoroughly ashamed of herself and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and hide her face from the world. But it was not to be. Word would soon spread that Lydia found that she simply could not live without George Wickham, that he had come for her...truly was there anything more romantic?...and had run off with him to marry and live happily ever after. And where better to celebrate this happy conclusion than at an assembly dance where all their neighbors would be congregating that evening. Elizabeth felt humiliated at the lies she would be witness to this evening and had spent most of the day trying to convince her mother to remain mute on the subject...wishing thinking...for her mother had taken Lydia's note at face value and believed every word. Neither Elizabeth nor her father believed a word of it. What Lydia's escape in the middle of the night portended, neither father nor daughter dared think of, accepting that she was probably lost forever.
She allowed her maid to dress her in a simple muslin, then tie her hair up in matching ribbons. In the hall outside her door she heard her mother delivering orders to Kitty in her high-pitched voice just before Elizabeth's door slammed open and she barged into the room. "Oh, you look very pretty tonight, Lizzie, though you can't hold a candle to Jane who looks like a golden goddess as usual"
"Mother, don't forget your promise not to speak of Lydia unless you are asked specifically about her whereabouts."
"Yes, yes," Mrs. Bennet responded with impatience before slamming back out the door.
Elizabeth's heart sank. Her mother was incapable of keeping her mouth shut. Elizabeth looked longingly at her bed. She could see nothing but abject humiliation stretching out before her. And Darcy would witness it all.
Charlotte Lucas had been sitting at her dressing table staring at her reflection for nearly fifteen minutes, unable to find the energy to finish dressing. She had absolutely no desire to spend the evening in a crowded room watching men and women pairing off to dance and flirt the night away. At the age of seven and twenty she doubted seriously if she had the power to beguile a man by fluttering her lashes or fan without appearing slightly demented though her mother insisted that she do so. Besides, there were no eligible men who might be interested in a spinster excepting the friends of her father and she knew all of them as foolish old men who enjoyed harmless flirtations and had no interest in her except as a dance partner. Still, she must attend for it was expected of her, though she would have preferred a quiet evening settled with a good book or even at the pianoforte playing a melancholy air which would better suit her mood. When she finally made her way downstairs with a practiced smile on her plain face, her parents hardly spared her a glance for she was a lost cause and all their attention was focused on her younger sister, Maria, upon whom they had great hopes for she was a pretty girl and not too dim-witted.
The Lucas party was greeted with perfunctory politeness when they entered the assembly hall for the several families who had arrived earlier than was their usual practice were more concentrated on awaiting the arrival of the Netherfield party. Rumors were rife about the male guests at Netherfield. There was Mr. Bingley whom everyone knew had five thousand pounds income and there was a Peter Postlewaite, a handsome young man who hailed from Nottinghamshire whose estate brought in a clear six thousand pounds. But the creme de la-creme was a Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy who hailed from Derbyshire and was known to have ten thousand a year. That three wealthy young men would descend upon their small country simply boggled the mind and all the mothers and a few fathers were atwitter with anticipation and hope for their daughters.
Charlotte viewed the scene with indifference and even when a hush descended upon the room she turned to the entrance with a disinterested glance at the newcomers. She recognized Charles Bingley as he stepped into the room with two finely dressed women, followed by a plump gentleman and two of the handsomest men that Charlotte had ever seen in her life. Charlotte had to admit that these two examples of male beauty could thaw the coldest heart. She felt a tiny flutter of pleasure and inwardly smiled at her foolishness.
Sir Lucas being the only knight of the realm who made his home in the neighborhood...he had once been mayor of Meryton...felt it his duty to once again introduce himself to Mr. Bingley and welcome his guests to their modest assembly hall. With bluff courtesy he introduced his honored guests to his family. Mrs. Lucas curtsied and complimented the ladies on their gowns...which was a sign of poor breeding in society...Maria dropped her mouth and went mute and Charlotte, from years of practice, steadfastly maintained a calm dignity.
The moment Darcy entered the hall he looked around searching for Elizabeth but she had apparently not arrived yet. His disappointment was acute but eased somewhat when he realized he was standing next to her dearest friend, Charlotte Lucas. "Miss Lucas," he said, "I'm delighted to meet you at last for I have heard much about you from Miss Bennet."
Charlotte was taken by surprise to be addressed by Mr. Darcy and replied without thinking, "which Miss Bennet would that be, Sir?"
"Er...Miss Elizabeth Bennet."
"Forgive me, Mr. Darcy. I was not aware that you knew my friend."
"We met recently in Kent."
"Did you? I'm surprised she didn't mention it."
Darcy managed a smile, "perhaps she didn't think it important enough to mention."
"Oh, I'm sure that was not the case, Mr. Darcy." She hastened to add, "I'm afraid that Lizzie has had other things on her mind in recent days and we haven't had as much time together as we would like. I expect she will be here at any moment and will be delighted to see you again." Her attention was called away by an aging crony of her father's who begged for the first dance which she accepted as graciously as she could muster. As she moved onto the dance floor she hoped fervently that she hadn't spoiled things for her friend. Mr. Darcy had looked decidedly discomfited by the knowledge that Lizzie had not mentioned her acquaintance with him.
Feeling somewhat like a fool, Darcy bowed and made his way to the end of the hall and stationed himself at the window. He should never have mentioned that he knew Elizabeth especially now knowing that his acquaintance with her was of such small significance that she had not bothered to tell her best friend of it.
Peter, who had been witness to this brief exchange had also moved to the side of the room which gave him a good vantage point in which to view his fellow guests. Mr. Hurst had planted himself next to the food and drink tables, Bingley was engaged in conversation with several gentlemen while keeping an eye on the entrance. Across from him Caroline was sharing what looked like some scathing remarks with her sister who looked resigned and bored, and Darcy was leaning against the the window frame looking like a storm cloud. Peter had forgotten what fun an assembly could be.
His attention was suddenly drawn to the noisy bustle at the entrance where a matronly woman was ushering in three young women while at the same time seemed to be devouring the room with hungry eyes. Peter had no problem recognizing Jane Bennet for indeed she looked positively angelic with such a sweet smile on her countenance. The next young girl was nondescript and tended towards giggles and Peter dismissed her immediately. Surely she was not the fair Elizabeth. A third young woman entered the hall with lowered eyes looking ill-at-ease. Peter glanced at Darcy who was now standing up straight, staring intently at the newcomers. Peter waited expectantly for Darcy to move towards the young ladies but instead, he seemed to find the floor of greater interest and so missed the look from luminous eyes that sought his before lowering her eyes again. Apparently the floor excited her curiosity as well.
Peter sighed and shook his head in dismay at the folly of lovers. At least Bingley knew what he was about. The moment Jane entered the room he was by her side asking for a dance.
Darcy watched Bingley make himself agreeable to the Bennet family and bit his lip in chagrin. Not for the first time in his life he wished he had the natural affability of Bingley who never seemed to be out of his element even in a roomful of strangers. Darcy took note of the stupid grin on Bingley's face as he led a beautiful young lady to the floor for the first dance. He knew he should go straight over to Elizabeth and ask for a dance but he kept hesitating unsure of what her reaction would be. It had not occurred to him that she might feel uneasy knowing that he knew all the particulars of Lydia's elopement from Brighton and was embarrassed at what his reaction must be to her sister's wretched conduct. He only knew that she had failed to tell her best friend of their meetings in Kent and not once had she glanced his way. What he really wanted was for Elizabeth to acknowledge him with a nod or possibly walk up to him and say hello. Instead she took her place on the dance floor with a boy who couldn't be more than sixteen years of age.
Peter was fascinated but soon grew weary of watching Darcy's inaction. He decided to stir things up and sauntered over to the window. "Darcy, I don't suppose you know that young lady who's dancing with that beardless boy?"
"What?"
Peter suppressed a smile, "the girl dressed in sunbeams...the one with such beautiful eyes...the one you've been staring at since she entered the room. A beautiful woman like that does not deserve to be saddled with old men and young boys. She needs a man and I could be just that man."
Darcy regarded Peter with narrowed eyes, "the lady is Miss Elizabeth Bennet whom I met in Kent. She is not to be trifled with."
"My dear sir, you wrong me. I never trifle. My intentions are always honestly felt."
"She happens to be a good friend of my sister, Georgiana, and my cousin Anne. They would not like to see her trifled with."
"Now that we've settled that Miss Elizabeth is not to be trifled with, I'll leave the field to you, Mr. Darcy." Without waiting for a reply, Peter ambled off towards his hostess feeling rather proud of himself. Darcy was obviously smitten and Elizabeth was not to be trifled with. He was still smiling at his brief encounter with Darcy when he approached Caroline Bingley. That poor woman appeared to have swallowed something disagreeable. "Delightful party Miss Bingley you must agree."
"I've heard howling dogs who made better music than this ragtag group of musicians," she snarled.
"How kind of you to say so, Miss Bingley. I'll be sure to pass on your compliments to them." He heard Louisa laughing as he moved on to Miss Lucas. "Splendid evening, Miss Lucas. It's a pleasure to see so many people enjoying themselves"
Charlotte smiled, I'll be sure to pass on your compliments to them."
Peter returned her smile. "I make no apologies for Miss Bingley but not everyone enjoys the simple pleasures of life, Miss Lucas."
"But you do, I think."
"I enjoy an occasional visit to the city but I confess my heart lies in the country."
"In Nottinghamshire, I understand. Home of Sherwood Forest. May I ask if you know Robin Hood? He's always been a hero of mine."
Peter laughed at her playfulness, "of course I knew Robin. I joined his merry men when I was about eight and spent many a long summer day in his company."
"Sweet childish days..."
"that were as long as twenty days are now," Peter finished the quote. "Indeed, Robin and I were the best of friends during those golden days of youth when everything was possible. Then I went off to school to become a gentleman and scholar and unhappily learned to put away childish things. A pity that we lose the power to imagine, don't you think, Miss Lucas?"
"Putting away childish things is one of the tragedies of life but a necessary evil I fear."
"That may be so, Miss Lucas, but I think when I return home I may ride into the forest and see if I can find my old friend. But in the meantime," he reached out his hand, "if I promise I will not step on your dainty toes, will you dance with me, Miss Lucas?"
Charlotte was so taken back that she stared at him in confusion before she took his hand and allowed him to escort her to the dance floor.
Charles Bingley was having an evening to remember. Jane Bennet had greeted him with the sweetest smile and had already danced with him and had promised to join with him for the final dance of the night. When unable to enjoy her smiles close at hand he mingled with all the guests ingratiating himself to them all with his good manners and jovial charm.
At one point he looked over at his friend Darcy who returned his look with a frown. Bingley immediately made his excuses and hurried to his friend. "Come Darcy," said he, "I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about in this stupid manner. You had much better dance."
"And who would I dance with? I have not been introduced to anyone in the room except the Lucas family. Would it be too much, Bingley, if you introduced me to Miss Jane Bennet?"
Bingley reddened in embarrassment. "Of course, Darcy, as soon as this dance ends. But you must come with me and I'll introduce you to her mother, Mrs. Bennet. But why aren't you dancing with Miss Elizabeth?"
"Miss Elizabeth has not had a moment to spare for an insignificant acquaintance. She has been much too busy dancing with every man in the room to take notice of me."
Bingley laughed out loud, "oh do be serious, Darce, and come along."
Darcy refused to move, "I am serious. She has made no effort to greet me."
"But Darcy, this is the country! The rules here are different. She would be condemned as too forward if she made the first overture to a man. You would not have her acting like my sister, would you?"
"Certainly not! Er...I do beg your pardon, Bingley."
Bingley's amusement grew. Bingley had never seen Darcy overly attracted to any woman in all the years he had known him so he found his friend's behavior somewhat eccentric. He was acting like a petulant child. "Darcy, do try to understand. You are a man and she is a woman. It is up to you to stake your claim. She must be sorely puzzled by your inaction...perhaps even hurt."
"I would not have her hurt, but I refuse to grin and prance. Besides, I'm not a coal miner. I am a gentleman."
Bingley sighed, you are also a twit. I'll be glad when Richard and Miss Anne get here. Perhaps they can teach you how to deport yourself at a country dance." He glanced around the room, "where is Pete?"
"He's on the floor grinning and prancing with Miss Charlotte Lucas."
"Enough of this silliness! I insist you follow me and I will introduce you to Mrs. Bennet.
Darcy sighed, "if you insist."
Together they managed to skirt the dancers and finally approached Elizabeth's mother. "Mrs. Bennet, allow me the honor of introducing my friend, Mr. Darcy. He is very eager to make your acquaintance."
"Oh, Mr. Darcy," she trilled, "it is indeed an honor to meet with such a fine gentleman. And from Derbyshire I hear. A beautiful country I assure you."
"Have you been to Derbyshire?"
"No, not at all. Traveling is too hard on my nerves."
Darcy glanced around seeking Elizabeth and was rewarded as she hurried towards their small group. "Oh Lizzie," her mother squealed, "come meet Mr. Darcy. He's come all the way from Derbyshire just to meet with such beautiful young ladies."
Elizabeth sighed heavily, "is that true, Mr. Darcy? For if it is, we are all obliged and most grateful."
He knew he should reply with a witticism of his own but his mind went blank so he did the next best thing and simply stared at her. Beside him he could feel Bingley shaking with merriment. "Go away, Bingley," he snarled.
With a reassuring smile at Elizabeth, Bingley did as he was told.
"I hope," Mrs. Bennet cried, "that you love to dance for my daughter loves nothing better than a dance."
Darcy was unable to take his eyes off Elizabeth's face, "is that so, Miss Elizabeth?"
"Next to burying my nose in a book of poetry, nothing gives me more pleasure, Mr. Darcy."
"Oh what nonsense," snapped Mr. Bennet. "I assure you that Lizzie doesn't read too much. None of my daughters do...they have been raised most properly, Mr. Darcy. My daughter Kitty hardly reads a book in a year." Kitty giggled her agreement to this assessment of her intelligence. "And my youngest," Mrs. Bennet continued in righteous indignation, "who is lately married, "has never read a book in her life."
Darcy turned startled eyes at Mrs. Bennet, "your youngest is married?"
"Indeed she is! And at only fifteen."
Darcy could hardly credit this information. He could only imagine one scenario; that Lydia Bennet was with child and the Bennets had managed to find someone willing to marry her. "May I offer my congratulations, Mrs. Bennet."
Discomfited, Darcy glanced back at Lizzie and saw how flushed she was, "allow me to escort you to the refreshment table, Miss Elizabeth. It's quite warm in the room and I confess I'm in need of a cool drink myself." He was gratified when she laid a gentle hand on his arm. As they distanced themselves from Mrs. Bennet, Darcy spoke quietly, "are you ill, Miss Bennet?"
"Only sick at heart, Mr. Darcy, but it will pass. It always does."
"It may not be too bad, Miss Elizabeth," a lot of couples marry without love but end up happily married."
"Without love? I beg your pardon, Mr. Darcy, but that has little to do with the matter at hand. According to the note she left my sister swears she cannot live without him. She was home for no more than a week when he came after her. And now she's run off with him again and we have no idea where they might be and father has washed his hands of the whole mess while my mothers crows to everyone who will listen, what a fine new son-in-law she has acquired "
"Run off with whom, Miss Bennet? Darcy asked in confusion."
Elizabeth was surprised at the question. She assumed that her cousin, Mr. Collins, had volunteered every nasty name and fact connected with the matter. Why, who do you think I'm talking about, Mr. Darcy? Mr. Wickham, of course."
Darcy felt the same way he felt when he was occasionally thrown from his least favorite horse. His head was spinning.