Chapter 1 Dying for a drink

"Squire Bennet! Ladies!" greeted Sir William Lucas as the Bennets entered the assembly room.

Mr Bennet gave Sir William a curt but friendly nod and headed off to the card room. The squire of Longbourn could see that Sir William was bursting with gossip and wanted no part of it. On any ordinary day, he rather thought that Sir William traded too much on his recent knighthood. But Mr Bennet was feeling especially impatient of inconsequential nothings tonight. It had been a very long mile from Longbourn to Meryton, being trapped in the carriage with his wife's effusions as she plotted the marriage of Jane, the eldest of their five daughters, to the newcomer Mr Bingley with his 'five thousand a year'.

Mrs Bennet on the other hand was all ears for Sir William's news. She craned forward eagerly as her daughters clustered around her.

"I have heard..." said Sir William confidentially, "that Mr Bingley has been joined by a large party from London, including a Mr Darcy, worth ten thousand a year!"

Mrs Bennet clapped her hands with delight. "Do you hear that, Jane? Perhaps Mr Darcy would better suit you! Lizzy may have Mr Bingley," she said, referring to her second eldest.

Elizabeth, or Lizzy as she was known to her friends, rolled her eyes at suddenly finding herself the focus of her mother's matrimonial schemes for a gentleman she had not yet even met and who was known to her only by the reputation of his fortune. Her expression only earned her a reproof from her mother for her ingratitude.

"I shall have Mr Bingley, Mama," declared fifteen-year old Lydia, "for though I am the youngest, I am the tallest!"

Mrs Bennet smiled approvingly at her youngest's appropriately mercenary attitude.

"I can also...", confided Sir William, leaning closer but not lowering his voice, "provide a little more information about Mr Darcy, which I was privy to during my most recent visit to St. James' Court—he was not long ago injured quite grievously in a duel!"

"Ooh!" said Lydia, now veritably bouncing with excitement.

"Who knows," continued Sir William, gratified with the response of his audience; "perhaps over some 'affair of the heart'?"

"He sounds very dashing!" gushed Kitty who, despite being one year older than Lydia, was very much in her taller and more vibrant sister's shadow.

"Duelling is against the law," added Mary, the middle sister, "and is to be highly deplored."

"Indeed," briefly frowned Sir William who, as the former mayor of Meryton, thought that he aught to condone law and order, "but it does not give an unfavourable impression of his heart!"

At this moment, Elizabeth spotted Sir William's daughter, Charlotte, emerging from the kitchens where she had no doubt been overseeing the preparations for supper. At twenty-nine, Charlotte frequently acted as hostess for the functions Sir William organised—for though her father was not a widower, Charlotte's mother had led a life of indolence since her husband had retired from commerce in deference to his knighthood.

Elizabeth moved to meet her friend. Although nine years separated them, Elizabeth had gravitated toward Charlotte since she had first come out almost five years ago at the age of sixteen, attracted by the frank and sensible opinions of Charlotte's more mature mind. Despite having a silly father, all too caught up in the whims and gossip of society now that trade no longer occupied his mind, Charlotte had the benefit of all the worldly wisdom of several successful brothers pursuing careers in London, who wrote often and visited frequently.

"Well, Lizzy!" said Charlotte. "Have you heard that Mr Bingley is joined by his friend Mr Darcy?"

"Not you too, Charlotte!" complained Lizzy, who was already sick of Mr Darcy. "Does this man just have to walk into a room and breathe to be noticed? I am sure he will be very ugly or stupid!"

Charlotte laughed. "You must forgive us. The war and London have deprived us of the company of so many young men. Aside from the butcher's and baker's sons, who are not at all eligible, young dance partners are in short supply. But it would be a wonderful thing if Mr Darcy fell in love with you, would it not?"

Lizzy pursed her lips and shook her head at her friend. "Charlotte, you have been reading too many novels from the circulating library."

The band then struck up for the first dance and both Charlotte and Lizzy were claimed as partners by older gentlemen whose wives sat against the wall gossiping.

The first two sets had just finished when a slight commotion near the door heralded the late arrival of the Netherfield party. A hush and frisson of excitement swept around the assembly hall. Sir William, who had never relinquished the mantle of Master of Ceremonies since his time as mayor, bustled up to greet the distinguished newcomers.

Lizzy and Charlotte, who stood against the wall sipping punch, watched as Sir William's attentions were directed first at a tall, slight young man with sandy hair and a pleasant aspect.

"That is Mr Bingley," said Charlotte, who had already been introduced to the newcomer thanks to his returning a call paid at Netherfield by her father. "He is quite good looking, is he not? And perfectly charming."

Sir William was introduced by Mr Bingley to another man, who looked older, around thirty. He was slightly shorter than Mr Bingley but more rotund and with a slightly florid countenance. He was fashionably dressed in an ostentatious waistcoat.

"If that is the illustrious Mr Darcy," whispered Lizzy in mock tones, "then I am gravely disappointed."

As Charlotte and Lizzy watched, the florid gentleman's arm was claimed by a lady dressed in silk, wearing a turban with an amazing ostrich feather that brushed the gentleman's slightly balding pate.

"Ah!" whispered Charlotte. "that must be Mr Bingley's brother-in-law and his wife—Mr and Mrs Hurst."

Another taller lady, bearing some resemblance in dress and features to Mrs Hurst was then introduced to Sir William.

"That must be Mr Bingley's unmarried sister, Caroline," said Charlotte, admiring her gown. "She is very beautiful."

"And she knows it," replied Lizzy as she watched Miss Bingley survey the company with a disdainful air.

All four of the newcomers then turned to look behind them and parted like the Red Sea for a third gentleman. By comparison, Lizzy determined he was only slightly taller than Mr Bingley, which was curious because her first impression was that he was much taller. She supposed this effect was due to his imposing physique and the fact that he was dressed entirely in black. His square-jawed head with its manicured sideburns sat atop wide shoulders, his shock of black wavy hair managing to look wild and perfectly pomaded at the same time. His long slim legs, not shod with dancing slippers but encased in gleaming black hessians, seemed to announce he had no intention of dancing. His expression was grim. He bowed slightly to Sir William. There was no question in either lady's mind that this must be Mr Darcy.

No doubt, thought Lizzy sardonically, he intends to spend his time in the card room or leaning against the wall, brooding.

"What do you think, Lizzy?" asked Charlotte.

"Very Byronic," replied Lizzy.

"My father is hoping Mr Darcy will stay long in Hertfordshire while the scandal of the duel dies down."

"For a person who was grievously wounded, he looks remarkably hale," observed Lizzy drily.

"Oh, Lizzy!" laughed Charlotte. "You know how my father loves to exaggerate! Ten to one he was not involved in a duel at all!"

They both laughed together.

When the band struck up for the third set, Lizzy and Charlotte were once more claimed by older married men. Lizzy was gratified to see that Mr Bingley, having been introduced to Mrs Bennet, had then claimed the hand of Jane in the dance. As the couples took their places, Lizzy was also pleasantly surprised to see that Mr Darcy had not leaned against the wall but partnered with Miss Bingley, despite his hessians. He was far away from Lizzy, at least ten in the formation, but she did not despair that he might progress to her during the dance, and if he did not, he would at least get closer, allowing her to better observe him.

The music started, and in-between polite glances at her current partner and the occasional smile at Charlotte, who started almost directly opposite her in the improper formation and progressed across her, Elizabeth was able to steal several glances in Mr Darcy's direction. He danced well; had obviously been taught by the best masters; quite put Mr Bingley in the shade. As he turned and bowed, his movements revealed what his ink-black clothes had disguised—his muscular upper thighs. Elizabeth thought he would look good astride a horse—very good. As he got closer, Elizabeth was able to see that his hooded eyes were dark, like his hair, and fringed with beautiful long lashes. Her heart beat a little faster, knowing he was drawing near her, and would partner her next. They turned and progressed.

He bowed, she curtseyed, and his black-gloved hand reached for her similarly clad white one. His eyes widened. Their hands touched as they swapped places in the 'hey'. When she looked up again, Lizzy saw Mr Darcy was glaring at her most ferociously, his nostrils flared. A thrill lanced through her core, whether from fright or excitement, she was not sure. She stumbled slightly but covered it well, by quickly resuming her steps. Her heart was beating so loudly she could hear it in her ears. She performed the next steps flawlessly, but dared not meet his eye again. He progressed.

Elizabeth paired with two more partners before the musical flourish that declared the end of the set, but they could not hold her attention. She performed the steps as if she was in a trance. She did not look after Mr Darcy or at anyone around her. When her last partner bowed and let go her hand, Elizabeth realised it was shaking. Glancing up the line, her eyes found Charlotte's. Elizabeth tottered towards her. The shaking had transferred to her legs and was getting worse.

"Are you all right, Lizzy? You look a little pale," said Charlotte.

"I feel a little faint, Charlotte. Perhaps we ought to sit down."

"Whatever is the matter?" asked Charlotte, grasping her friend's elbow and leaning closer to whisper: "It is not that time of the month, is it?"

Lizzy shook her head.

Once they were seated against the wall and could converse more easily, Lizzy composed herself and found her voice.

"Mr Darcy glared at me so, Charlotte. His look was quite ferocious."

"Did you step on his toe?"

"No!"

"Probably someone else did and he thought it was you," reasoned Charlotte. "Do not waste another moment's thought upon it. Let me get you some punch!"

After Charlotte went off, Lizzy tried to stop the shaking in her legs by pushing her slippers against the floor, but only succeeded in making her knees bounce up and down.

When Charlotte returned with two glasses of punch, Lizzy gulped hers and then regretted it, wishing she could continue sipping the punch slowly, just to keep her hands busy.

"Would you like this one as well?" asked Charlotte, offering her cup, which she had not yet put to her lips.

With a sheepish grin, Lizzy accepted the cup gratefully and began to sip it more slowly. The music struck up for the fourth set.

Lizzy saw with pleasure as Mr Bingley requested a second dance with Jane, then watched with interest what his friend would do next.

At the end of the third set, several of the older gentleman had retired to the card room, either from exhaustion or a sense that they had fulfilled their duty in standing in for absent single men. Among them had gone Mr Hurst. Based on his footwear, Lizzy had certainly expected Mr Darcy to join them. Instead, Mr Darcy solicited Mrs Hurst's hand for the next set. Lizzy began to see a pattern—he would ask only the ladies of his own party to stand up, dancing with the local ladies only in the progression.

As they were already sitting down, Charlotte and Lizzy found themselves without partners in the depleted ballroom and resigned themselves to sitting against the wall for the next set. This did not entirely displease Lizzy because she had not yet fully recovered her sensibilities. Moreover it allowed her to indulge in one of her favourite pastimes—watching other people unobserved. Charlotte began a stream of inconsequential chatter, which Lizzy listened to as a type of commentary, but only replied with appropriate monosyllables.

Jane and Bingley were without doubt the handsomest couple in the ballroom—they were well matched in appearance, and if Mr Bingley was not the best dancer Lizzy had ever encountered, it did not matter, for Jane had tempered her own graceful steps to match his. The most superior dancers were undoubtedly Mr Darcy and Mrs Hurst. Now that she could devote her full attention to him, Lizzy saw that nothing could be wanting in Mr Darcy's steps, which were light and pleasing without being overly fussy. He moved with the grace of a sportsman. Mrs Hurst also danced well, but she exaggerated her movements, as if she knew many eyes were upon her and her partner. But Mr Darcy and Mrs Hurst were ill-matched in height and could not rival the symmetry of Jane and Mr Bingley's movements.

The couples progressed and it was with a slight pang of envy that Elizabeth saw Jane pass to Mr Darcy. Now Jane and Mr Darcy were by far the most superior couple in the room, Jane seamlessly changing her steps to match the very graceful form of her partner. Elizabeth stole a glance at her mother, sitting beside Lady Lucas on the opposite side of the room and immediately knew her to be boasting of Jane to Charlotte's mother. Embarrassed, Lizzy turned her attention elsewhere.

When the set finished, Mr Bingley sought Jane again and accompanied her to the punchbowl. When the fifth set struck up, he did not seek to dance at all. Here was something great, indeed! Knowing that to ask Jane for a third consecutive set would be impolite because it would deprive other men in the room of a chance to dance with her, Mr Bingley had chosen not to dance at all!

In fact, Bingley was half-expecting his friend Darcy to lay claim to the lady he considered the most beautiful in the ballroom and was very gratified when he did not. When the dancers began the fifth set, Bingley was almost congratulating himself that he would have Jane's exclusive company anyway when Mr Featherstone, a local cabinetmaker, claimed her belatedly. With an appearance of good nature, Mr Bingley surrendered his companion and received her punch glass, drinking what remained in it when he thought no one was looking, his lips lingering on the brim.

Elizabeth had expected Mr Darcy to make a late bid for Miss Bingley's hand, dancing with her for a second time. Instead he retired to pace against the wall on the opposite side of the room from Charlotte and Elizabeth, but not far from Mrs Bennet. It was Sir William who solicited Miss Bingley as a partner, much to that lady's annoyance. Mr Bingley, having decided to sit the set out in Jane's honour, then chose to spend his time harassing his friend, who had no good reason to be idle.

"Come, Darcy," Bingley declared as he came up to him, before lowering his voice to a playful scold. "Why are you pacing here stupidly when so many beautiful ladies are sitting against the wall?"

"You were dancing with the only beautiful lady in the room and she is now occupied," Darcy replied coolly.

"Indeed! And why did you let that oafish fellow steal her out from under your nose?" challenged Bingley. "But here," he said, scanning the room and spying Elizabeth. "I see her sister is not occupied. I believe Jane said her name is Elizabeth. I saw you dance with her in the progression."

Darcy, who had partnered two Bennet sisters in the progression, glanced to see which one his friend meant. Elizabeth, who had been watching the pair intently while trying to guess the subject of their conversation, became immediately aware its topic was herself when their eyes met. She blushed intensely.

Mr Darcy quickly turned his back on her. "She is tolerable," Darcy whispered, "but not handsome enough to tempt me."

Bingley gave a nervous laugh. "Not handsome enough to tempt you?" he repeated, a little too loudly for Darcy's comfort. "Darcy, you do say the most bizarre things sometimes!"

Darcy blushed and bit his lip.

Behind him, Lydia made a loud exclamation, clapped her hand across her mouth and ran as directly as the dancers would permit across the ballroom to Elizabeth. Having also not been claimed as a partner in the latest set, she had got up from beside her mother to sidle towards the pair of gentlemen from Netherfield so that she might overhear their conversation.

"You'll never guess what Mr Darcy just said of you, Lizzy!" she said, triumphantly coming up to her sister.

"That I stood on his toe! Which I did not!" retorted Lizzy, hoping to deflate her sister.

"No!" said Lydia. "He said 'you were not handsome enough to tempt him'!"

And before Charlotte could stop her, Lydia ran off to tell Kitty and anyone else who would listen to her.

Lizzy blushed in deep mortification. "You can now sweep up the ashes of our romance, Charlotte," she said stolidly.

"Oh, well," said Charlotte, clasping her friend's hand and regretting she had said anything on the topic at all. "It was good while it lasted in my imagination—all forty minutes of it."

For the rest of the set, Mr Darcy continued to lurk on the periphery of the ballroom, chatting in a desultory fashion with Bingley. When the set broke up, Mr Bingley immediately launched himself toward Jane before anyone else could claim her. Darcy took the opportunity of the general movement to absent himself from the ballroom, telling Miss Bingley who was walking towards him that he was for the card room.

Miss Bingley, who had hoped Darcy might ask her to dance again, then stoutly declared she would accompany him. Mr Darcy immediately changed his mind. He turned on his heel and instead headed for the entrance, saying he fancied he would have a drink at the Red Lion. Miss Bingley hurried after him, catching him at the portico.

"Mr Darcy, the assembly finishes at midnight. Shall you wait upon us here or should I send my brother to fetch you?"

"Do not wait for me," advised Darcy. "I will hire a horse to make my own way home."

Stepping out into the light of the full moon, Darcy took several lungfuls of the clean night air and unclenched his jaw in blessed relief. He walked quickly towards the Red Lion, but after checking that Miss Bingley had returned to the ballroom, he continued past the light that shone from the ale house's open doorway, to slip into the shadows beyond.

Despite the moon, it was difficult to see a man wearing black.


Pinterest captions (just in case they delete them)

[1.1] Squire Bennet! Ladies!" greeted Sir William Lucas as the Bennets entered the assembly room.

[1.2] Mr Bennet gave Sir William a curt but friendly nod and headed off to the card room. The squire of Longbourn could see that Sir William was bursting with gossip and wanted no part of it.

[1.3] Mrs Bennet clapped her hands with delight. "Do you hear that, Jane? Perhaps Mr Darcy would better suit you! Lizzy may have Mr Bingley," she said, referring to her second eldest.

[1.4] "I shall have Mr Bingley, Mama," declared fifteen-year old Lydia, "for though I am the youngest, I am the tallest!"

[1.5] "I can also...", confided Sir William, leaning closer but not lowering his voice, "provide a little more information about Mr Darcy, which I was privy to during my most recent visit to St. James' Court—he was not long ago injured quite grievously in a duel!"

[1.6] "He sounds very dashing!" gushed Kitty who, despite being one year older than Lydia, was very much in her taller and more vibrant sister's shadow.

[1.7] "Duelling is against the law," added Mary, the middle sister, "and is to be highly deplored."

[1.8] At this moment, Elizabeth spotted Sir William's daughter, Charlotte, emerging from the kitchens where she had no doubt been overseeing the preparations for supper.

[1.9] Lizzy pursed her lips and shook her head at her friend. "Charlotte, you have been reading too many novels from the circulating library."

[1.10] Lizzy and Charlotte, who stood against the wall sipping punch, watched as Sir William's attentions were directed first at a tall, slight young man with sandy hair and a pleasant aspect.

[1.11] "That is Mr Bingley," said Charlotte, who had already been introduced to the newcomer thanks to his returning a call paid at Netherfield by her father. "He is quite good looking, is he not? And perfectly charming."

[1.12] Sir William was introduced by Mr Bingley to another man, who looked older, around thirty. … He was fashionably dressed in an ostentatious waistcoat. … "Ah!" whispered Charlotte. "that must be Mr Bingley's brother-in-law and his wife—Mr and Mrs Hurst." This pic - Met Museum

[1.13] As Charlotte and Lizzy watched, the florid gentleman's arm was claimed by a lady dressed in silk, wearing a turban with an amazing ostrich feather that brushed the gentleman's slightly balding pate.

[1.14] "That must be Mr Bingley's unmarried sister, Caroline," said Charlotte, admiring her gown. "She is very beautiful."

[1.15] All four of the newcomers then turned to look behind them and parted like the Red Sea for a third gentleman.

[1.16] His square-jawed head with its manicured sideburns sat atop wide shoulders, his shock of black wavy hair managing to look wild and perfectly pomaded at the same time.

[1.17] His long slim legs, not shod with dancing slippers but encased in gleaming black hessians, seemed to announce he had no intention of dancing.