Chapter 15

The light of many candles shone out of the windows of the assembly hall, and the noise of chattering voices seemed as though it must be audible for miles around. The whole of Meryton was abuzz with excitement for the first public assembly since the militia had come to town. With all the officers in attendance, the hall was overcrowded, and for once not lacking in gentlemen. Lydia and Kitty were quite runaway with dreams of love, wishing and hoping to catch a man who would afford them the life of adventure they supposed a military wife experienced. Little did they take into consideration the heartache that could come along with being a soldier's wife. They did not choose to hear any of Elizabeth's warnings or pleas for caution.

Elizabeth and Jane stayed in the only quiet corner they could find as the room began to fill and the musicians tuned their instruments for the long night ahead.

"There is Miss Darcy. She looks well, does she not?" Jane asked.

Elizabeth followed her gaze toward the doors, where Miss Darcy and Mrs Younge had just entered. The crowd parted for them as they had done during the first assembly. This time, Miss Darcy made a point to reach outward and greet her newly made friends. Among all the crowd in the long hall, only the Lucases did not seem pleased she had come. It hurt Elizabeth's heart to think that Miss Darcy had not yet been forgiven by so affable a family. Though her friendship with Miss Darcy was severed forever by mischance and the harsh judgement of Mr Darcy, she might at least have the pleasure of seeing her happy and accepted by her neighbours.

"I should like to speak with Sir Lucas and his sons. Will you join me?" Elizabeth asked her sister.

"No, I shall stay here. Mama is expecting me to meet someone," Jane said with a sigh. Unlike Kitty and Lydia, Jane did not propose to fall in love with any man who happened to be wearing a red coat. Her sister certainly had a heart for love, Elizabeth mused, but she coupled to it a natural good taste and delicacy that made her most unlikely to make an imprudent match. She walked away, promising to return shortly.

When Elizabeth approached Sir Lucas, she found his son, James, standing next to him. As James was the young man Georgiana had slighted, that was ideal, but that they were engaged in speaking to another gentleman was not. What she had in mind would be best communicated privately. Elizabeth therefore waited at a discrete distance. It was not long before the gentlemen bowed to each other and the stranger took his leave.

Sir Lucas smiled when he saw her. "Miss Elizabeth Bennet. What a pleasure to see you and all your family this evening. I hope you are well?"

"Perfectly well, I thank you. And you?"

They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Elizabeth judged it time to approach the delicate subject on her mind. "Sir Lucas, Mr Lucas, I know that when Miss Darcy first came to Meryton, many of us had an ill opinion of her."

"Yes, very much so. I see she is not so haughty as she was before, and she has seemed to win some over in our little community." Elizabeth winced. His tone was merely dismissive, but in a man as friendly and courteous as Sir Lucas, that was a harsh judgement indeed. Mr James Lucas merely nodded, looking rather unforgiving, if she were any judge.

"Sir Lucas, I have come to feel that Miss Darcy deserves our regard. She made a grave mistake on the night of the first assembly in slighting Mr Lucas, but I believe she ought to be forgiven for it, if you will forgive me for speaking so boldly. Miss Darcy's shyness led her to refuse the dance, not any judgement against her partner. She did not mean to cause any embarrassment or offence." Elizabeth glanced across the room at her former friend, pain shooting through her heart. "I believe that if Mr Lucas were to ask her again, Miss Darcy would count it an honour to dance with him."

Sir Lucas raised a brow. "Do you?" he asked. Mr Lucas looked rather intrigued, glancing over at the pretty young Miss Darcy with a hopeful expression.

"Yes, I do. I have come to know her well since she came here. And she is a kind, sweet young lady. I am sure you will find the same, if you will only give her another chance."

Mr Lucas looked to his father for permission. Sir Lucas thought for a moment, narrowing his eyes at Elizabeth. "You did me a great service in going to speak with her during that first assembly. And your father and I have been friends for a long time, Miss Bennet. I shall therefore respect your request that my son ought to try again. But if he is refused this time, I am afraid I shall lose my good opinion of your judgement."

"Thank you, sir," Elizabeth replied with alacrity. "I am sure Mr Lucas will not be disappointed."

Elizabeth hurried away to rejoin Jane. Mr Lucas lost no time in making his way through the crowd to Miss Darcy's side. She held her breath, watching as he bowed, made her a friendly greeting, and asked her to dance. Though Elizabeth could not hear what was said, the way Miss Darcy's face lit up as she took Mr Lucas' offered hand left no doubt of the success of his request. They were among the first couples to gain the dance floor and open the assembly.

Jane turned to her, giving her a knowing smile. "Is that your doing?" she asked with a glance towards Miss Darcy and Mr Lucas, now taking the first steps of the dance.

"It may be," Elizabeth said with a noncommittal shrug of her shoulders. At last, she had confided in Jane about the fateful day that had severed their friendship. Jane would never give her any cause to regret it, for a more reliable confidant could not be imagined. It had been an exquisite relief to speak of it with so caring a friend as her sister.

"I wish Mr Darcy had not acted so. I liked Miss Darcy very much," Jane said softly. It would have been impossible for anyone to overhear them in the din of the room.

"I did as well," Elizabeth admitted. It was not only the friendship with Miss Darcy she regretted losing. She had grown strangely fond of the quiet man, despite his aloofness. Mr Darcy had shown his strong, caring nature with his devotion to Miss Darcy. He could not be all bad when he was such a good brother to her.

The assembly passed quickly for Elizabeth. She danced with neighbours and officers, talked with friends when the musicians took a break and tried to prevent her younger sisters from engaging in too great a breech of propriety. Though Elizabeth found it better not to venture too close to Miss Darcy and Mrs Younge, lest an awkward scene result, she could not avoid them entirely. When walking quickly past the dais where they stood, she suddenly heard Mrs Younge speak Mr Wickham's name. Elizabeth's ears instantly pricked up.

"He is a vastly charming man, do not you think? He seemed utterly taken with you, Miss Darcy," Mrs Younge was saying. She seemed pleased.

"Do you really think so?" Miss Darcy asked. There did not seem to be an arrogant bone in the girl's body.

"I do. If he asks you to dance again, I encourage you to accept him."

"A second dance? Are you sure? We have already danced one set. And he has stayed close to me throughout the rest of the evening. Will it not look in poor form to accept a second set, when there are so many other gentlemen in attendance?"

"No, indeed. You have an obligation to him, since you are old friends. Do not you think?" Mrs Younge pressed.

Elizabeth thought her enthusiasm odd. True, Mr Wickham was a very pleasing gentleman. If he had grown up on the estate, Miss Darcy likely was already well acquainted with him. But why would Mrs Younge promote the acquaintance? She was in Mr Darcy's employ, and judging by what Mr Wickham had said, Mr Darcy would likely not be happy to learn of Mr Wickham trying to rekindle a friendship with his younger sister. Elizabeth turned, catching Miss Darcy's eyes on her. She hurried away, trying to make sense of it. Something seemed very wrong, but what? Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps it was only her sadness at losing the friendship that made her look askance at Mrs Younge. Likely, there was nothing to be concerned about at all.

∞∞∞

Georgiana's heart constricted as she watched Elizabeth scurry away. She had resolved to obey her brother and have nothing more to do with the Bennet family. But she still missed her friend. Soon, Mr Wickham returned with glasses of punch for each of them. They stood apart from the other attendees, talking on the dais as the musicians recovered for the next dance sets.

"You have grown up most beautifully, Miss Darcy. I do not know if you remember me from when we were children, but I used to take you up on my shoulders when you were little and run you about the garden." Mr Wickham smiled at her with such ease and charm that she felt her heart flutter.

Heat touched her cheeks, and Georgiana knew she was blushing. She remembered little about Mr Wickham, only that he had left suddenly shortly after her father's death. Fitzwilliam had never divulged the reason, but she assumed he had gone off to seek his fortune. Mr Wickham seemed pleased to be a lieutenant.

"Have you given thought to my request while I was away?"

Georgiana was unsure what to do. To dance with a man twice seemed so…familiar. But she was being silly. There was nothing really wrong with dancing together twice. It was not as though he was asking for a third dance, which would be as much as to say they were engaged. Surely it would not be inappropriate, seeing as he was a friend of the family. "Yes, I will dance a second set with you, Mr Wickham. Thank you," she replied.

Mrs Younge seemed pleased. She sent them off with a smile, bidding them to enjoy themselves.

She did enjoy dancing with Mr Wickham. He was so attentive. Better still, Mr Wickham knew all the charms of Pemberley and Lambton. Mrs Younge did not much care to indulge her in conversation about her home. Having grown up there himself, Mr Wickham appreciated Pemberley as much as anybody could wish. He was very patient with her, though doubtless she was talking far too much and ought to ask him to speak more about himself instead.

"You father would be proud of the young woman you have grown into, if you do not mind me saying so," Mr Wickham said as the dance got underway. "You are full of grace and good breeding. And you look just like your mother."

"You knew my parents well, then?" Georgiana asked.

"I did. Your mother was always kind to me. I think you are much like her, one of the kindest and gentlest ladies I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. And your father, well, he was the one who always believed in me, told me I could be anything I wished if I would only put my mind to it. He paid for my education, up until his passing." Mr Wickham's face fell. "I am only sorry I never lived up to his expectations."

"Surely that is not true. I know my father held a special place in his heart for you, Mr Wickham. He would be proud of you as well."

He gave a short laugh. "Me? A lowly lieutenant?"

"There is no shame in small beginnings, sir." Georgiana only wished she could find better words of encouragement. Elizabeth would have known exactly what to say, but the best words she could find seemed flat and pale. "Many of our finest gentlemen were not always men of rank. Why, look at the navy. There is many a newly made fortune there. Who is to say you will not climb the ranks and distinguish yourself on the French front?"

Mr Wickham looked as if her words had truly touched him. It was very gratifying, even though she did not know why he should pay attention to her. She was the little girl who had always tottered along after him and Fitz, no doubt causing them annoyance at such a tag-along.

"I hope I may be worthy of your good opinion of me, Miss Darcy. Really, it is a relief to find I have a friend here in Meryton, one of such lovely face and figure, I might add." He smiled, but even as she blushed, Georgiana wondered if his speech was entirely appropriate. She would have to ask Mrs Younge about it later. But likely young men often got carried away at functions such as these.

Georgiana forgot her worries in her enjoyment of the dance. Mr Wickham was an excellent partner and made each step with perfect grace. When he brought her back to Mrs Younge's side, she was out of breath, but in remarkably good spirits. Georgiana did not know when she had ever felt more exhilarated.

Mr Wickham soon went off to dance with another young lady from Meryton. "It will not do for the inhabitants to think I play favourites, even though I wish I would never have cause to leave your side." He kissed her hand lightly before he bounded away. Georgiana glanced at Mrs Younge, to see if he had overstepped the bounds. Mrs Younge gave her a nod of approval, silencing some of Georgiana's anxiousness.

He was acting merely as an old friend. There was nothing more to it than that, and she ought not to imagine otherwise.

When the assembly ended, Mr Wickham appeared suddenly by her side. "Do you walk home tonight, Miss Darcy?"

"We do, Mr Wickham," Georgiana said in surprise. She wondered how he could have known. They did indeed intend to walk. Though Fitzwilliam had, of course, provided a carriage for them, their lodgings were so near that Mrs Younge had judged it unnecessary that evening, saying that she could always send a servant to summon their coachman if the weather turned.

Mr Wickham insisted on accompanying them to their townhouse and added a flourish to his gallantry by offering his arm. She took it, and they began to walk. Georgiana looked up, marvelling at the night's beauty. Clouds obscured the moonlight as they raced across the sky.

"It is a rarity to have such a temperate night. I hear this part of the country receives almost as much rain as the Peaks District," Mr Wickham said amiably as they walked.

"Yes, I believe so," Georgiana replied. "I am not the authority on the subject, however. Miss Elizabeth Ben—" She halted and glanced over her shoulder at Mrs Younge, who raised her eyebrow in disapproval at Georgiana having even uttered the name of her friend-turned-enemy. "That is, I would not know as some of the locals might."

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet, I presume?" Mr Wickham asked. "I met her on the road a few days ago. She seems a charming enough person."

Mrs Younge cleared her throat. Mr Wickham looked quickly back at her. "Are you quite well, Mrs Younge? Perhaps we should quicken our pace so you can avail yourself of a cup of tea?"

"I am not choking, Mr Wickham, thank you. It is just that we prefer not to speak of Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

"I see. Well, you must forgive me, Miss Darcy. I was wrong to speak of another when I am in the presence of someone who is far above her in station, grace, and dare I say, beauty?"

Georgiana blushed. She was glad the darkness of the street obscured her face, for she hardly knew how to look. The compliment was so extravagant. "Come now, Mr Wickham. I shall have to tell my brother," she teased. Expecting to hear his charming laugh, Georgiana was surprised when Mr Wickham was silent. Stranger still, his arm had tensed under hers.

"Perhaps it would be best for you not to mention me yet, Miss Darcy," he said.

"Why ever not?"

"I would rather surprise him, you see. I have been gone a long while, trying to make something of myself. When I departed Pemberley, he charged me to make your father proud, and I have striven to do so. I should like to surprise him when he arrives from London."

Georgiana nodded. "Very well. I shall not say a word."

This seemed to please him, and so when he had seen them safely home, he thanked her and again kissed her hand. His lips had barely brushed her gloves, but she could still feel the warmth of them even when they had gone inside and closed the door.

"What do you think of him?" Mrs Younge asked as they climbed the stairs to their rooms.

Georgiana was not sure what she meant. Perhaps Mrs Younge wished to know what Mr Wickham had been like as a boy, compared to the man he had become. "He is much taller now and carries himself with a confidence that he did not possess when he was younger." She said nothing else on the subject as she entered her room, tempted to fall straight into bed from the exhaustion wrought by all the dancing she had done that evening. Despite her weariness, Georgiana was incandescently happy in thinking how different this assembly had been from her first. Only one thing was missing. How immeasurably greater would her happiness have been if only she could have shared it with the woman she had thought was her dearest friend?