Author's Note: T-minus 8 days until I am in London for semester abroad! I am very sure that being in Town for the Season (which, in Jane Austen's day, generally got going after Christmas and officially started in May) will be highly inspirational. I also plan to make a trip to Bath and walk in Jane Austen's footsteps a bit. I really want to see the Royal Crescent! Although, as I do not have Anne's comfortable disposable income, I doubt I'll do much quite as much shopping or promenading.


In fact, the Darcys were in Bath for only four days before they were invited to dine with the de Bourghs at the Royal Crescent.

This occurred primarily because Lady Catherine had noticed a significant lack of distress on the part of Mr. Darcy, when it became clear that his aunt was ignoring his presence in the city. Lady Catherine had expected a stream of notes from her nephew, begging for her forgiveness, and perhaps even a desperate visit from him; though she could not undo his marriage, she was certain she could at least cause him to regret it. When it became apparent that Mr. Darcy's despair was not forthcoming, Lady Catherine chose to revise her strategy.

"For I am gracious enough, Anne," she declared grandly, "to give my particular notice even to those who do not necessarily deserve it; and, of course, there is poor dear Georgiana to think of. I cannot, in good conscience, abandon my own sister's darling child to the power of the odious Bennet family."

Mr. Darcy's cause had also been helped by the fact that Colonel Fitzwilliam had, as Anne had expected, become a sight far less seen around his aunt's lodgings since the arrival of his cousin. Though he had not entirely neglected Lady Catherine and Anne, having dined with them twice, he had politely refused several invitations to the Royal Crescent since the Saturday of Mr. Darcy's arrival—a refusal which Lady Catherine, accustomed to having her own way in every thing, took very ill indeed.

Anne herself had not seen the Darcys once until they came to dine, but she had been correct in supposing that their name would be everywhere once they arrived in Bath. She had languished at Rosings, removed from the world, for most of her life, but it was no secret to her that, prior to his marriage, her cousin had been widely considered one of the most desirable bachelors of his circle—indeed, it was a fact upon which Lady Catherine, certain of her own daughter's becoming this sought-after gentleman's bride, had rested a good deal of self-importance. The fact that Mr. Darcy had not only taken a wife, but had married a woman of which no body knew anything, made this marriage into an ideal target for rumor and fancy. Every body had their own ideas of the mysterious Mrs. Darcy, and though it was a subject which no body dared to discuss before the severe Lady Catherine (who had made her own views very well known), Anne was not so shielded, and was exposed to every body's opinion. Those who had met Mrs. Darcy were most eager to describe her, and those who had not yet met her were most eager to press Miss de Bourgh and Colonel Fitzwilliam (both of them known to be previously acquainted with the lady) for information. Colonel Fitzwilliam, it seemed, did not at all mind the questioning, but Anne could not bring herself to be so gracious, and began repeating that her only conversation with Mrs. Darcy had occurred over a single game of cassino, and that she had scarcely paid her any attention at the time, never imagining that she would become her cousin.

Her listeners were invariably disappointed with this answer, but if Anne had been tempted to repeat the story of the youngest Miss Bennet, there was no longer any need; it seemed every body had heard it by now, and it was inevitably the next item of discussion by those who took an interest in Mrs. Darcy. Anne, knowing full well that she was the reason for the story's spread, continued to resist any feelings of guilt or remorse, for she was sick to death of the Darcys and could not care what any body said about them.

She was not particularly surprised when her mother informed her that the family was to dine with them on Wednesday, for she knew her Ladyship well enough to assume that Mr. Darcy's indifference to his aunt's cold silence would surely serve to spur the lady into action; Lady Catherine de Bourgh was not a woman who took well to being ignored, even if it was she who had been doing the ignoring in the first place. Yet despite her tacit expectation of the event, Anne met the news with a heavy heart, dismayed at the prospect of prolonged exposure to the Darcys' smug connubial happiness. She was rather relieved to hear that Colonel Fitzwilliam was to be joining them as well, though she had not much hope of conversing much with him, given the company that was to be assembled.

It was to be an eventful week, for in addition to the dreaded dinner with the Darcys, the first public fancy-ball of the Season was to take place at the Upper Rooms on Thursday. Lady Catherine and her daughter naturally held a subscription to the Assembly Rooms, yet had not made any appearance there during their stay in Bath. Indeed, Lady Catherine had not expected that she or her daughter should attend any of the public balls, as they were so inclusive; however, as she soon came to understand that several of her eminent friends (and rivals) planned to attend the Assembly Room entertainments quite frequently, she had decided that it was absolutely imperative that she and Anne should attend as well.

Anne had rather been looking forward to the ball, for its being a public event meant that there was certainly more chance of her meeting with those agreeable acquaintances who would likely not be invited to a more exclusive affair. In addition, she was eager to visit the Upper Rooms, which were relatively newly built and, despite their unadorned exterior, said to be quite exquisitely decorated inside. Yet now, with the shadow of the Darcys looming over every thing, Anne found rather less pleasure in the thought of the coming ball, for she knew that her cousin and his family must surely be there.

Anne spent Monday and Tuesday making a supreme effort to distract herself from the week's oncoming social trials: she visited the shops, paged through her novels, and took leisurely walks in the park, either alone or in the company of Mrs. Jenkinson. For the first time since her arrival in Bath, she began to feel the nagging pangs of her old head-aches, and found herself quite without appetite at breakfast on Wednesday morning. Lady Catherine, who (despite her protestations that their stay in Bath was for reasons of Anne's wellbeing) had paid remarkably little attention to her daughter's health since employing Dr. Hart, noticed this last symptom and was quite put out about it.

"I wish you would not brood in that unattractive fashion, Anne," she snapped. "I daresay I am very glad you are to see Dr. Hart again to-morrow, for you have been acting in an appallingly sulky manner all this week; it is most bothersome."

Anne apologized, and ate her breakfast.

The de Bourgh apartments were thoroughly cleaned and polished in preparation for the dinner-party. Lady Catherine ordered that the pianoforte be placed in a seat of prominence in the drawing-room—"For dear Georgiana practices every day, and must surely be eager to perform for me"—and personally inspected the public rooms, the menu, and the servants' attire. It was a consideration which had heretofore only been afforded the most distinguished guests; yet Anne suspected that her mother was, this time, less eager to display her own equality to such women as Lady Dalyrmple and Lady Derring, than to impress upon Elizabeth Darcy her inadequacy for the role of Pemberley's mistress.

As the hour of the Darcys' arrival drew nearer, Lady Catherine withdrew to her own chambers to dress, leaving Anne with orders to make herself look "charming, if possible." In puzzling over these imprecise instructions, Anne selected a gown of white tulle, embroidered with small gold flowers, and accompanied it with a cashmere shawl. Her hair was arranged and curled and pinned into place with the aid of a satin bandeau.

She finished dressing nearly an hour before her mother, which was another hour before the guests were to arrive; and so, unwilling to sit and risk wrinkling her gown, Anne walked the halls of the Royal Crescent, watching the ongoing preparations. Enormous bouquets of flowers had been cut and were being painstakingly arranged in the de Bourghs' most priceless vases; the best crystal glasses and finest dinner service was standing on the table. This evening had clearly taken on the form of a battle in Lady Catherine's estimation, and Anne was not surprised, when her Ladyship at last emerged from her dressing room, to find herself thoroughly criticized for her simple attire.

"Are you to take a walk in the park, Anne?" Lady Catherine demanded. "For that is how you are dressed. I insist you remove that plain bandeau and wear the gold tiara which you received for your sixteenth birthday; and are you to wear no jewelry to-night? You have a great many fine ornaments, and I desire you will go put them on this instant."

Anne returned to her rooms and did as she was bidden, though the gold tiara felt quite heavy on her head, and the jewelry which she donned felt uncomfortably cold against her throat and arms. These were things which she had never worn before, never having had the occasion, and she wondered that they even fit at all.

Lady Catherine herself had dressed, as was her inclination, with more care for expense than for taste. Her gown was of a deep purple satin, embroidered and trimmed with thick gold thread that rather detracted from the color of the fabric itself; her shawl was of highly ornate lace. She wore an immense number of gold bracelets and rings, as well as a necklace of enormous pearls which did not at all suit the style of her gown. Her head-dress was lofty and opulent, and even involved feathers. She looked very wealthy indeed, yet thoroughly ostentatious, and Anne was surprised to find herself almost ashamed to stand beside her as they waited to receive their guests.

Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived first. His face registered no surprise as he greeted his lavishly attired aunt, though Anne thought she caught a flash of something like reproach in his eyes. To Anne herself, he was perfectly amiable; he greeted her with a polite bow and declared his hope that he found her well.

"Anne is perfectly well," Lady Catherine said impatiently; "yet you have quite deserted us, Fitzwilliam; I must say I am not happy. Is the company of Elizabeth Bennet so attractive that you have no consideration for your family anymore?"

Colonel Fitzwilliam's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. "I am afraid I must correct you on two counts, dear aunt. Miss Bennet is Miss Bennet no longer, but is Mrs. Darcy now; and, as she has married my cousin, she too must be considered part of my family."

Lady Catherine opened her mouth as though to object; yet Colonel Fitzwilliam continued, smiling, before she could speak. "At any rate, I thought it my duty to welcome my friends to Bath; for, as you must know, Darcy has not visited the city for some years, and neither his wife nor his sister have been here before. I apologize if I seem to have been negligent."

"And how are the ladies finding Bath, sir?" Anne asked quickly, as Lady Catherine sniffed meaningfully. She thought it best to secure her cousin's good opinion now, that he might not altogether abandon her later.

Indeed, Colonel Fitzwilliam looked at her approvingly, and replied "I believe they are quite taken with it.—They are both exceedingly fond of the country, and Bath, being a good deal smaller than Town, is therefore far more attractive to them than I think a larger city would be."

"To be sure," Anne said, before Lady Catherine could break in, "I imagine it would be rather difficult to adjust to London, when one is accustomed to a country house. I myself have lived quite exclusively at Rosings Park, and I find Bath to be an agreeable balance."

She had some hope that the conversation might continue in this manner, ruminating on the inoffensive differences between city and country, rather than the inflammatory differences between de Bourghs and Bennets; yet it was not to be, as the Darcys were then announced, and the evening was truly begun.


Lady Catherine received her guests imperiously, with a highly dignified scowl. Anne met them only with slight nods, unable to muster any thing more significant. She was gratified when it was Miss Georgiana who took the place beside her on the settee, for she would much rather sit in silence with her timid young cousin than with the daunting Mr. Darcy or his provoking wife.

Mr. Darcy's face was stony, his manner quite determined, and he met Lady Catherine's gaze as though in a challenge. Anne felt the familiar self-consciousness take hold of her as her cousin made a stiff bow in her direction, and she thought again how glad she was not to be married to him; what a silent, dispassionate marriage it should have been! Yet Mr. Darcy also looked somehow happier than when she had seen him last, and she could not help noticing the way his eyes softened when he glanced at his wife, and the smile—guarded, yet it was a smile—with which he greeted Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Mrs. Darcy was quite simply dressed, and the contrast between her attire and Lady Catherine's was striking indeed, as Lady Catherine had no doubt intended it to be. Yet Anne was forced to admit that there was something attractive in the lady's manner, in the unadorned grace of her dress, in the openness of her countenance and the brightness of her eyes. She hardly afforded Anne more than a glance, which galled Anne almost as much as the unmistakable amusement in Mrs. Darcy's gaze. Mrs. Darcy was plainly amused by the solemnity which Lady Catherine deemed necessary for the occasion, and was scarcely less amused by her Ladyship herself. A small smile twitched at the corner of her mouth, though she hid it as well as she could.

Only Georgiana looked as uncomfortable as Anne felt, and Anne could not help a small sharp stab of sympathy for her young cousin.

"Well, Darcy," Lady Catherine began commandingly, "I suppose I am to offer you congratulations on your recent marriage." She did not look at all as though she meant it.

"I thank you, your Ladyship," Darcy said briefly.

The party fell into silence once more.

"Mrs. Darcy," Colonel Fitzwilliam said carefully, "my dear cousin was just asking me how you liked Bath."

"I like it excessively," Mrs. Darcy replied readily, fixing her eyes on Anne. "I find it quite charming. Our lodgings are not far from here, and I have already discovered some very beautiful walks in the neighborhood."

Anne supposed that Colonel Fitzwilliam had meant for her to continue the conversation with Mrs. Darcy, thus breaking the ice between them; yet she could think of nothing to say, other than a faint "How pleasant." Mrs. Darcy's lips twitched again.

"It is a shame you had not the advantage of visiting Bath more often before your marriage, Miss Bennet," Lady Catherine declared, with an air of carelessness. "I have always said that the society of Bath provides a great many advantages to a young lady. I recall that you play a little on the pianoforte—if you had had the benefit of a musical education here in Bath, I daresay your performance would be greatly improved."

"I daresay you are not wrong, your Ladyship," Elizabeth Darcy said, smiling. "Of course, I was never so fond of music as is my sister Mary, and I think being forced into lessons would rather have had the effect of souring my disposition towards the pianoforte, than of sweetening it."

Lady Catherine pursed her lips. "Well, at least dear Georgiana shall have the advantages that you did not, Miss Bennet," she said, smiling at her niece. Georgiana blushed. "I had intended to tell you, Darcy," her Ladyship added, turning to said gentleman, "that I am quite prepared to take Georgiana under my wing while we are here in Bath. You must know that I am well acquainted with all of the most important families in the city, and my connexions shall prove excessively valuable to her. There are several suitable gentleman whom I have—"

"I assure you, Lady Catherine, that we are not considering Georgiana's prospects for marriage at this time," Mr. Darcy interrupted sharply.

"You must not leave these things too long, Darcy," Lady Catherine said coldly, eyes narrowing. "You must not assume that whatever plans you have already made for her will eventually come to fruition. I myself have experienced the disappointment such an approach can bring." Her eyes fell on her daughter for the briefest of moments. Anne felt her face heat with a deep blush, and lowered her eyes to her lap. If Elizabeth Darcy had not triumphed over her before, she certainly had reason to now.

The room was still but for the crackling of the fire, and stayed that way for some minutes. At last, Colonel Fitzwilliam cleared his throat and tried again,

"I understand the Season's first fancy-ball is to be held at the Upper Rooms tomorrow. Are you looking forward to it, cousin Anne?"

Anne lifted her head. "Why, yes, very much," she murmured. The company fell silent again, and Anne met Colonel Fitzwilliam's eyes; he looked rather beseeching, though she may have imagined it, and she cleared her throat. "I have heard that the Upper Rooms are quite beautiful," she offered. Her cousin looked quite relieved.

"Indeed they are," Colonel Fitzwilliam said cheerfully. "They were designed by John Wood the Younger, of course—the same man responsible for this very Royal Crescent. A fine architect; I daresay Bath owes much of its beauty to him."

No body had any thing to add to this remark, and so Colonel Fitzwilliam changed his tactic. "Are you looking forward to the ball, Mrs. Darcy?"

"Oh, very much," Mrs. Darcy assured him, smiling. "I, like Miss de Bourgh, am most impatient to visit the famous Assembly Rooms; and I have always enjoyed public assemblies. I find that they are an excellent place to meet new people, and to observe others."

"Yes, but of course, public assemblies are hardly so enjoyable as private ones," Lady Catherine said dismissively. "Anne and I attended a ball at the Dalyrmples' only a week or two ago; it was such a very pleasurable evening. Every body knew me, naturally, and Anne and I had been invited specially by Lady Dalyrmple, for I am an exceedingly dear friend of hers. Have you attended any private balls here in Bath, Miss Bennet?"

"I have not," Mrs. Darcy admitted, eyes twinkling. "However, Lady Catherine, I daresay I shall have the pleasure of meeting you and Miss de Bourgh at a great many balls this season, for I have heard several of our shared acquaintances here talk of hosting one."

Lady Catherine frowned, most likely at the idea of sharing any acquaintances with Elizabeth Darcy, and made no reply. At length, she decided that they had sat long enough, and declared it time to proceed into the dining room.

Anne found, to her chagrin, that Mrs. Darcy and Georgiana were to be her dinner partners, as her Ladyship commanded the attention of the gentlemen. She could not help recalling her first meeting with Elizabeth Bennet, for they had sat together at dinner then, as well, with Mrs. Collins making up the third of their party. It had been a monotonous meal, silent and uncomfortable. Tonight's dinner did not look much more promising.

They were seated, and the soup was served. Anne ate wordlessly, aware of Mrs. Darcy's eyes on her at times. The lady was clearly alternating between amusement and frustration at Anne's reticence, in a manner that Anne thought quite impudent. Neither was Georgiana forthcoming, though she and Mrs. Darcy occasionally exchanged a sentence or two. Anne was surprised by the kindness with which Mrs. Darcy addressed her sister-in-law, and by Georgiana's obvious trust in and affection for her brother's wife. They did not give quite the impression of familiar sisterly warmth which Anne had witnessed between the Miss Harts; yet they were clearly fond of one another, and Anne found herself unreasonably jealous.

Soup was replaced by the meat course, which Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam carved and served to the ladies. Lady Catherine was holding forth on some thing or other, though only Colonel Fitzwilliam appeared interested. Anne felt Mrs. Darcy's gaze upon her again, and dared to lift her head from her plate and meet her eyes. The lady only smiled—impertinently, Anne thought, and she was suddenly roused to action.

"Mrs. Darcy," she said clearly, setting her fork down beside her plate, "I understand our mutual friends have joyous news; have you heard from Mrs. Collins recently?"

Mrs. Darcy was quite obviously startled by Anne's sudden leap into conversation, and perhaps also by her reference to the Collinses as "friends," and took a moment to respond. "Yes—yes," she replied. "Charlotte wrote to me just before I left Derbyshire. It is a happy event indeed."

Unfortunately, Anne, having started the exchange, could now think of no way to continue it; yet Mrs. Darcy appeared to take pity on her and added, "Charlotte has always been eager to be a mother, and I must confess I think her quite fit for the role. She is sensible and yet compassionate; do you not agree?"

"I do," Anne answered, rather relieved. "I think Mrs. Collins a very—practical sort of woman. She has always been an agreeable neighbor."

"And yet," Mrs. Darcy continued, smiling again, "she possesses that rare ability to see the world as it is, rather than as she thinks it ought to be. I have never known Charlotte to be deluded or deceived, even by herself, which I think is the easiest deception one can make. Nor is she given to self-importance. She understands the true value of things—and of people, I suppose. In that way, she is very different from many of my acquaintances."

Anne, who had not Mrs. Darcy's intimacy with Mrs. Collins, could only nod; yet she had the distinct feeling that the conversation had moved beyond its ostensible boundaries.

"I trust that they will be very happy," she said carefully, and took another bite of mutton.


The ladies proceeded into the drawing-room after dinner. It was a dull party for some minutes, Lady Catherine being in no hurry to speak and no body else apparently willing to begin a conversation. Only Elizabeth Darcy looked quite composed, and she met Lady Catherine's gaze with the same poise exhibited by her husband.

Yet, to Anne's surprise, it was Georgiana whom Lady Catherine addressed first. "My dear child," she exclaimed, beckoning the girl forward, " do come stand here for a moment, and allow me to look at you."

Georgiana obeyed, and stood patiently while her aunt commented upon her height, her bearing, the color of her hair and the style of her dress. Anne was rather vexed to find that Georgiana had grown a good deal taller than she was, and that her cousin's figure was rather the more womanly, despite the seven or eight years between them. Georgiana's bearing was graceful, her features attractive (and, Anne noted, somewhat reminiscent of her brother), and her appearance overall quite pleasing; she was clearly a girl who possessed a great deal of potential. Lady Catherine's opinions, as she shared them, were remarkably favorable—perhaps in deference to Georgiana's youth, or perhaps because she held Georgiana to be the last true Darcy, who might yet do her family credit.

"You are the picture of your mother," Lady Catherine at last declared. Georgiana blushed and thanked her Ladyship shyly. "I do hope you are going to play for us, Georgiana; you know how I enjoy music, and Colonel Fitzwilliam tells me you are quite a proficient."

"Oh, really," Georgiana replied, looking rather alarmed, "it is a word I myself would hardly use."

"Come, Georgiana," Lady Catherine scoffed. "I insist you play for us; I have looked forward to it with great anticipation. It has been an age since I have heard a truly excellent performance." She looked scornfully at Elizabeth Darcy, as though this was the fault of that lady. Georgiana took the opportunity to return to her seat at Anne's side.

"Lady Catherine," Mrs. Darcy said firmly, "of course Georgiana should not play if she is not comfortable doing so."

"Nonsense, Miss Bennet," Lady Catherine answered sharply. "Why should she be uncomfortable? This is a family party, after all; there are no strangers here."

"Nonetheless, Lady Catherine—" Mrs. Darcy began, but she was interrupted.

"I find it quite peculiar, Miss Bennet, that you are encouraging a shy and diffident demeanor in my niece, when you yourself are hardly in possession of such qualities," Lady Catherine said loudly. "You, a remarkably forward sort of girl, must realize that timidity will never secure Georgiana her proper place in society; if she is to make any connexions, let alone a proper match, she must be lively."

"Yet I am also aware of the undesirable effects which too much liveliness can bring," Mrs. Darcy argued, though her tone remained polite.

"Indeed," Lady Catherine replied smugly, "I am aware of the circumstances of your youngest sister's marriage."

Mrs. Darcy looked momentarily furious, but quickly composed herself, glancing quickly at Georgiana. Inexplicably, Anne felt her cousin stiffen. "I believe that event is irrelevant to our current discussion," Mrs. Darcy said evenly. "To return to the point: I will not disagree, Lady Catherine, that vivacity can be an advantageous quality in any person, lady or gentleman; yet I must disagree with your methods of drawing it out."

"It is fortunate, then, that Georgiana is not your niece," Lady Catherine snapped.

They fell silent. The air in the room was quite thick with tension, and Anne shifted uneasily for some moments. Georgiana remained quite stiff and, Anne noticed, remarkably pale. She was clearly even more uncomfortable than Anne herself, and finally Anne turned to her and said, in what she hoped was a friendly manner,

"I quite envy you, cousin, for Colonel Fitzwilliam speaks very highly of your talent.—I never learned to play, but I should have liked to."

"If your health had permitted you, Anne, you should have been a great expert," Lady Catherine declared.

Anne could not respond with any degree of certainty, and the ladies remained silent until the gentlemen joined them.

The party was scarcely more convivial at that point, particularly as Mrs. Darcy seemed to have lost all her entertainment in the evening's proceedings and had evidently been plunged into very poor spirits by her dispute with Lady Catherine. Mr. Darcy showed obvious concern for his wife and for his sister, who appeared even more ill at ease now than at the start of the evening. Lady Catherine sat in overbearing silence, punishing the entire party with her gaze. Only Colonel Fitzwilliam made any attempt at affability, frequently appealing to Anne for support, though the air of antipathy in the room combined with her own self-consciousness hindered her greatly. The two of them held a very weak discussion of the weather, which ended disastrously; then Colonel Fitzwilliam attempted to re-introduce the subject of the coming ball, which also failed. At last, even he fell silent. No body mentioned cards, or the pianoforte, or any of the other usual entertainments enjoyed at a dinner-party. The guests, as the reader has probably already assumed, took their leave very early, and with a certain degree of terseness.

Left alone, Lady Catherine roused herself enough to decry Mrs. Darcy's insolence, her intrusiveness, and her absurd arrogance—"A country upstart, to be sure," she fumed. "And it is my family that has been cursed with her!" Anne, who had taken up her embroidery for a mere moment before setting it down again without interest, made no reply; she understood perfectly well that her mother had no need of one. Yet even the activity of abusing Elizabeth Darcy was too much for her Ladyship, who retired early. Anne followed soon after.

She was rather troubled by her discussion with Mrs. Darcy at the dinner table, for she could not quite work out the intention of the lady's words; yet she was more troubled by Mrs. Darcy's reaction to Lady Catherine's mention of her youngest sister, and furthermore by Georgiana's clear discomfort at those words. How the youngest Miss Bennet had any thing to do with Georgiana Darcy, Anne did not know; she was quite sure they had never met. Again, Anne was reminded of the fact that she had spread the story, and to-night, the instinctive clench of guilt in her stomach was a good deal more difficult to quash.

It had been a disastrous evening, Anne admitted to herself: lacking in charm, in cordiality, in comfort. No body had wanted to be there, and no body had been happy with the assembled company. She supposed it was better that this event was over, for now she could meet the Darcys without the embarrassment of an awkward first encounter. Yet she could not help longing, in the wake of a prolonged exposure to Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy, for the easy amiability of Theodore and Rosamond Hart, and all their family. Most of all, however, she could not help wishing that the Darcys had quite simply stayed in Derbyshire, where she should never have to see them again.


Historical stuff: John Wood, the Younger and his father John Wood, the Elder (fancy that) worked primarily in Bath throughout the 18th century and are responsible for many of its most famous buildings, including the Royal Crescent and the Assembly Rooms (Younger), Prior Park and the North and South Parades (Elder), and the Circus (started by Elder, finished by Younger). During the Season, the Assembly Rooms had a specific schedule, and fancy-balls were always on Thursdays. The term generally meant that the strict rules on dress put forth by the master of ceremonies were relaxed for that evening and ladies, in particular, were allowed to be perhaps a little more daring, as long as they remained within the bounds of propriety (so nothing too shocking); it was not a fancy-dress/costume ball, though that would be fun.