Chapter 6

A Party at Lucas Lodge

“H ere we are, my dear.” Mr. Collins handed Jane out of the carriage, and quickly tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. Neither spared a glance for the two ladies remaining in the vehicle. Elizabeth and Mrs. Annesley exchanged a look. Howes stepped forward and handed each lady out. After thanking the footman, Elizabeth took her companion’s arm. “Never fear, Mrs. Annesley. I shall escort you.” The elder lady chuckled and together they walked up the short flight of stairs to greet the Lucas family.

“Sir William, Lady Lucas, I thank you for inviting me to your party. I have looked forward to it the entire day.” Elizabeth dipped a curtsy to her hosts.

Sir William patted his hands on his thick stomach. “Of course, my dear, of course. Your father was a good friend of mine. I could never ignore his precious daughter.”

One thing Elizabeth had not expected from her visit to Meryton was the number of times her new acquaintances would refer to her father. Her mother was seldom discussed by the townsfolk, though if she resembled her sister in any way, it was understandable. But several had commented on Mr. Thomas Bennet. Though Elizabeth longed to hear everything she could about the man, she had to fight an unexpected bout of tears each time his name was spoken.

“You must tell me about him someday.”

Her host patted her shoulder. “Certainly. Once our guests are settled, I will find you and share a few stories about the fellow. When I first met him, I was not yet Sir William, only Mr. Lucas. Your father did not care that I was naught but a shopkeeper. He treated me with great respect and kindness. I can see you have his nature.”

Her heart soared at the unexpected compliment. “I look forward to learning more about him, but I must make way for your other guests.” She and Mrs. Annesley made their way into the drawing room. Seeing her new friends gathered around a small coffee table, Elizabeth walked to them.

“There you are,” Miss Goulding waved. “You have joined us just in time to take part in the wagering.”

Elizabeth settled herself on a small chair to the left of Charlotte. “What are the terms?”

Miss Goulding laughed. “I knew I could count on you to be inquisitive rather than to shame me for my unladylike behavior.” She cast a quelling look at Miss King until both ladies broke into merriment.

“I must assume from your behavior that Mary does not approve of your wicked ways.”

Miss King laughed more. “It does not matter at all if I approve, Constance will do as she pleases. And I am not strong enough to fight her. I dare say, every ounce of trouble that finds me is because I go along with my friend’s schemes.”

Miss Goulding swatted Miss King’s arm. “Nonsense. Besides, this is only for us. No one else need know about it.”

When the two friends broke into another round of giggles, Elizabeth turned her eyes to Charlotte Lucas for answers. “Tonight there will be musical exhibitions, and Miss Goulding wagered that Mr. Collins would display.”

“Does he play?” There was a small pianoforte at Longbourn, but in the two weeks since Elizabeth had arrived, Mr. Collins had not once played so much as a single note.

“He sings.” Charlotte folded her hands primly in her lap.

“Tell her the full of it, Charlotte,” Miss Goulding prompted. “He does more than simply sing.”

A slight frown marred Charlotte’s face. When she was slow to elucidate, Miss King leaned forward. “He writes his own lyrics to the tune of well-known songs.”

“Pish,” Miss Goulding scoffed. “He writes his own lyrics to the tune of exactly one well-known song. Greensleeves.”

Deciding she wished to be a part of the conversation after all, Charlotte spoke. “He changes the words. We were wagering on who would be the subject of tonight’s song.”

Elizabeth was intrigued. Her brother-in-law had a high, nasal speaking voice. She did not think his singing voice would prove to be impressive. “Who has previously inspired his songs?”

Miss Goulding placed a finger on her chin. “Let me think. I believe there have been several songs written in Jane’s honor, and at least two written as an ode to his mother-in-law.” Elizabeth could only imagine how Mrs. Phillips must have crowed at the honor. “He wrote one to the ale master, and another to a great lady who lives in Kent, though he has never met her. Apparently, she sends him advice through letters.”

Miss King leaned forward to explain. “Mr. Collins and the lady’s rector are good friends, you see. The letters do not come from her but from his friend.”

“So the wager is not if he will sing, it is on whom he will bestow his words?”

“Exactly,” Charlotte nodded. “I believe he will sing another song for Jane.”

“And I have bet on the baker. I saw Mr. Collins in his shop twice this week eating a sweet roll.”

“And you, Mary? Who have you suggested?”

Miss King smiled at Elizabeth. “I have bet on you.”

Elizabeth recoiled. “Then I greatly hope you do not win the bet.”

Soon the conversation changed to other topics. Miss King recently received an invitation from her uncle to visit him in London after Yuletide and Elizabeth extended her own invitation for tea while Miss King was in town. Charlotte had convinced her father to purchase a new breed of chicken that lays blue eggs, and she was anxious for the hen to begin producing. And Miss Goulding had been fitted for a new dress that morning.

A commotion at the door drew their attention. Miss Lucas hid a frown. “It appears the Netherfield party has finally arrived.” Elizabeth glanced at a clock that stood on the far wall. They were three-quarters of an hour late.

The four ladies watched as Sir William and Lady Lucas left their conversations and moved to greet their newest guests. “I apologize for our delayed arrival,” Mr. Bingley told his host. “My sister had difficulty deciding on a dress.” Miss Bingley looked not even a little embarrassed by her brother’s admission.

Sir William assured his guests that everything was fine, and he encouraged them to find conversations. Mr. Bingley spotted Elizabeth and walked toward her. “Ladies, I am pleased to greet you this evening.” He bowed.

While her three newest friends engaged in a conversation with the gentleman, Elizabeth found herself watching Mr. Darcy. Miss Bingley had clutched his arm tightly when the party arrived, but she was unsuccessful at keeping it. Mr. Darcy walked her to Jane, and while the ladies were conversing, he gently removed her hand from his person and walked away. Miss Bingley turned to speak to him, but he did not stop to respond. Elizabeth hid a smile. Well done, Mr. Darcy, she thought.

He caught her eye as he escaped from Miss Bingley, and Elizabeth thought he might come join his friend. Her heart beat faster at the possibility. But he turned left and walked toward a window where he stood with his back to the guests.

When the conversation came to a natural pause, Elizabeth spoke. “I thought your friend might join us, but he has chosen to evaluate Lady Lucas’ gardens, it seems.”

Mr. Bingley turned to look. “That is Darcy’s way. He is a good fellow, but uncomfortable around people he does not know well.”

Elizabeth’s emotions warred. On the one hand, Mr. Darcy’s discomfort was to be pitied. On the other, he was a grown, well-educated man; he should force himself to engage at a party no matter how great his disquiet.

∞∞∞

Elizabeth sat with her friends for a while longer until she spotted Sir William Lucas approaching with a warm smile. His stout frame moved through the room with surprising grace, and when he reached her side, he bowed slightly.

“Miss Gardiner, I have not forgotten my promise. Would you still wish to hear more about your father?”

Elizabeth’s heart fluttered at the mention of him. “Indeed, Sir William. I would be most grateful.”

“Come, then. Let us move to a quieter corner. Such tales are best shared without the distractions of company.”

They walked together, Sir William leading her to a small alcove near the windows, away from the liveliness of the party. He gestured to a seat, and she sat, folding her hands in her lap. Sir William took a deep breath, his gaze far away as if recalling a distant memory.

“I first met your father when I was but Mr. Lucas, a humble shopkeeper with no grand title to my name. I owned a haberdashery, though I believe you already knew that.” She nodded.

“It was long before I had the honor of being knighted by His Majesty. At that time, I was very much a part of the tradesman class, but your father—Thomas Bennet—he treated me as an equal, never once looking down upon my station. That is to be expected, though. He was always such good friends with your papa, who was, himself, born to a solicitor.”

Elizabeth felt a warm pride swell in her chest, though the familiar ache of loss remained just beneath it.

“One day, he entered my shop, not long after he had become engaged to Miss Fanny Gardiner, your dear mother. He was in fine spirits, you understand, and he had Mr. Gardiner with him—your adopted father, of course, though then he was simply her brother and Mr. Bennet’s friend. The two men were in a merry mood, teasing one another. Mr. Bennet wished to purchase a gift for Miss Gardiner, something special. He was clearly smitten, though Mr. Gardiner laughed and confessed that he could not possibly advise on what his sister would appreciate.”

Elizabeth smiled softly, imagining the scene as it unfolded. Her father, young and in love, seeking a perfect gift for her mother. “What did he choose for her?”

“Your father eventually chose a fine ribbon, as I recall, and he took great pleasure in the selection. Mr. Gardiner, on the other hand, seemed utterly relieved when the ordeal was over. He said, ‘I know not how you endure the expectations of women, Bennet, but I daresay I am not built for such matters.’ The two of them laughed heartily as they left my shop.”

Elizabeth giggled. “Papa has eaten his words, I think. He regularly purchases gifts for my mother.”

“I suspect he does. Love does such things to a man.” Sir William paused, his expression softening as the memory shifted. “A few months later, I was knighted. A great honor, to be sure, though I confess I felt somewhat out of place among the gentlemen. It was your father who first offered his congratulations, and more than that, he made it his mission to introduce me to society, ensuring I was included in gatherings. He was the kind of man who never forgot a kindness, nor allowed another to feel alone in their success.”

Elizabeth blinked back a sudden rush of emotion. She had always known her father was a good man as her papa had told her many stories, but to hear these stories of him through the eyes of another brought him to life in a way she had not experienced.

“He spoke of you often, even though you were just a babe in arms,” Sir William continued, his voice taking on a gentle, almost wistful tone. “You were the light of his eye, Miss Gardiner. He saw so much of himself in you, even then. Your love of laughter, your quick wit—it is though I am seeing him before me again — though you are much prettier.”

Her chest tightened at the mention of her father’s pride. Her papa ensured that she knew of her birth father’s love for her, but to hear it spoken aloud by someone else was a balm to the wounds left by his absence.

“Does Jane also remind you of my father?”

Sir William hesitated for a moment before clearing his throat. “Perhaps if your father had lived, I might see more of him in her. Unfortunately…”

He looked to where Mr. Collins stood next to his wife. “If your father had lived, I do not believe he would have allowed your sister to marry Mr. Collins.”

Elizabeth stiffened at the mention of her brother-in-law, but she held her tongue, waiting for him to continue.

“I have no doubt that Mr. Gardiner will ensure you are properly matched, as you deserve,” he said, his voice heavy with meaning. “But Mr. and Mrs. Phillips… they did not do so for Jane. It pains me to say it, but your father—he would not have permitted such a match, I am certain.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together, her thoughts swirling. Her papa had said as much when Jane announced her engagement, but to hear someone else speak it… it was unsettling.

Both Elizabeth and Sir William settled into a moment of reverie, thinking of what was and what might have been. Finally, after some time had passed, he sighed.

“That was not what I wished to say, and I beg your pardon. It was rude of me.” Elizabeth made no reply.

The gentleman continued. “But rest assured, your father’s legacy lives on in you, Elizabeth. And I have no doubt that Mr. Gardiner will see to it that you are wed to a man who is worthy of your hand.”

Elizabeth smiled faintly. “I thank you, Sir William. Your words have brought me great comfort.”

He bowed his head, his expression kind. “It is my honor, my dear. Your father was a fine man, and I count myself fortunate to have known him.”

∞∞∞

Darcy stood at the window for what he knew was an impolite amount of time, but he could not force himself to turn around. If he did, his eyes would gravitate toward Elizabeth, and that would not do. He had almost walked to her when he saw her sitting with Bingley and her friends. It would have been so easy to take the open chair to her left and wait until her fine eyes turned to him. It would not do. Miss Gardiner was a beautiful and engaging lady, but she was not for him.

“Tell me, Colonel, does your regiment plan to host any events while you are stationed in Meryton?” Against his will, Darcy turned from the window and Elizabeth. She stood less than five feet away speaking to Colonel Forster who had recently led his militia regiment to Meryton.

Before the colonel could respond, Darcy’s own voice added to the conversation. “As much as the local populace would enjoy the society of such events, I think England’s army has more to concern itself with during a time of war.”

Elizabeth’s eyes danced. “Mr. Darcy, I had quite convinced myself that you would stand by the window in a taciturn manner the entire evening. And here you are interrupting my conversation with logic. It is not fair to prove me wrong with such ease.”

Darcy thrilled at her teasing speech. “My apologies, Miss Gardiner. If it helps, I will share that Bingley plans to host an event or two. If Colonel Forster cannot promise to do so, you at least have the Netherfield events to look forward to.”

Colonel Forster was a jovial man who agreed it was beyond him to host parties for the gentlefolk of Meryton. “My men are much in need of training. I am afraid I must refrain from committing myself to hosting duties and focus on their drills, instead.”

The three spoke of general topics until Colonel Forster excused himself to speak with Mr. Lane. Elizabeth and Darcy stood awkwardly in his absence until Miss Lucas joined them. “Elizabeth, we would like to start the music. Jane plans to open for us. Would you go next? I heard you play at your sister’s wedding and would very much like to have that honor again.”

Although she did not appear to be excited about the opportunity, Elizabeth relented without too many arguments against it. The three of them stood and listened to Mrs. Collins’ halting attempts at the instrument. When the song ended, there was a collective sigh of relief from Darcy and his companions.

“Jane would have been a great proficient at the instrument, if she had practiced more,” Mrs. Phillips boasted. “I would not allow her to spend too much time at it, though. She has such pretty hands, and I was afraid they would grow knotted and cramped from hours at the piano. My Jane is the prettiest in the county, and I could not afford to lessen her beauty with music practice.”

Darcy frowned at the woman’s illogical speech. This is more evidence of why you must put Miss Elizabeth Gardiner from your mind. Her family is ridiculous. Mrs. Collins glowed at her mother’s nonsensical praise, oblivious to how the lady shamed her.

“If you will excuse me, Mr. Darcy. It seems that my meager skills on the pianoforte are needed.”

Darcy’s attention snapped back to the lady who stood next to him. “I look forward to hearing your performance.” He bowed and then watched Elizabeth’s pleasing form walk away.

When Elizabeth’s song began, Darcy was mesmerized. Never before had he heard anyone play with such sweet emotion. And when her voice added to her beautiful playing, his feet moved forward of their own accord. He stood at the corner of the instrument and watched as her fingers ran lightly across the keyboard. Too soon, her song ended to much applause by all who attended.

“Elizabeth, you have such great talent,” Mrs. Collins clapped from the other side of the pianoforte. Elizabeth face beamed at her sister’s praise. Darcy had not been impressed by Mrs. Collins’ attitude toward her sister, but his opinion softened upon hearing her words and upon seeing how happy they made Elizabeth.

Having witnessed Darcy’s attention to Elizabeth, Miss Bingley stepped forward and stole all of Darcy’s hope for a second performance. “I will play next, Eliza.”

Elizabeth stood from the bench. “The high C key sticks a little,” she warned. Miss Bingley rolled her eyes at the advice. Then her eyes searched for Mr. Darcy but found he had stepped away from the instrument. With flared nostrils, she began a fast and loud rendition of one of Beethoven’s Eroica variations.

Elizabeth found Darcy once again. “Miss Bingley plays with great precision,” she said.

Darcy’s relished the humor he saw in Elizabeth’s sparkling eyes. “If one cannot find joy in the music, then it is imperative to play precisely and with great volume.” To his great delight she laughed.

When Miss Bingley’s song finally ended, Mr. Collins moved toward the pianoforte. “If you will permit it, I would like to perform an original composition.” Lady Lucas’ smile faltered, if only for a second, before nodding in approval.

“Ahem.” Mr. Collins loudly cleared his throat, in a bid for everyone’s attention. When the group quieted again, he spoke. “I have had the great pleasure of coming to know more of my wife’s sister. She has impressed me as a polite and friendly guest. And in her honor, I give you my song.”

Darcy looked down at Elizabeth who stood in shocked silence, her face heated to a bright crimson.

“La, La, Laaaa,” Mr. Collins warmed his vocals with a series of warbling notes.

“Oh, dear,” Elizabeth muttered from beside him.

Too soon, the song began.

Elizabeth, my sister, dear,

You walk the fields to exercise.

My wife’s sister but reared in town,

Despite that you seem so mannerly.

“It does not even rhyme,” she whispered to herself. Before Darcy had time to think of how to respond, Mr. Collins belted out the chorus.

Elizabeth, Elizabeth!

You are as lovely as your name.

Elizabeth, Elizabeth,

But not so lovely as my Jane!

Mr. Collins paused to view the strained looks upon people’s faces. Misinterpreting the pleased expressions on the countenances of his wife and mother-in-law as broad approbation, he soon began his second verse.

Your father is a man of trade,

Your mother was from Derbyshire.

Their humble beginnings should be lauded,

For you have a sizable dowry.

Darcy winced at the man’s poor comportment and terrible rhymes. His singing would have been forgiven had he not injured Elizabeth’s pride in such a public manner.

“Shall I interrupt him, Miss Gardiner?”

“Thank you, sir, but I fear it is best to allow these things to play out. Your gentlemanly offer has not gone unnoticed, however.”

Seeing the hurt in her eyes, Darcy was tempted to disregard her advice and force the man to be quiet. Instead, he stood stalwartly by her side, wishing to throttle Mr. Collins but doing nothing more than offering her his silent support.

Unfortunately, the song continued for three additional verses. Verse three referred to Elizabeth’s preference for plain dishes. Verse four made mention of her brown hair and suggested it should have been blonde. And verse five, the worst of them all, implied she was a bluestocking due to her excessive love of reading. By the time the song ended, Elizabeth’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. Darcy wanted to shake the idiotic man for disturbing the lady’s equanimity. But her courage rose when her friends joined the group.

Laughing at their sympathetic looks, she said, “I suppose you have come to gloat, Mary. You wagered the song would be in my honor and you have been proven correct.”

Miss King grimaced. “I wish I were not. I hope Mr. Collins has not occasioned you too much discomfort.”

“Oh that was nothing,” Miss Goulding said. “At least he got most of his words correct this time!”

This made Elizabeth laugh. “Indeed. The only mistake I heard was when he said I did not prefer a ‘racket’. I believe he meant ‘ragout’.”

The ladies giggled, and even Darcy cracked a smile.

Mr. and Miss Bingley made their way to the little group. “Eliza, I must compliment you on your performance, but you are not to steal all the glory. It appears you come from a very musical family.” Miss Bingley smirked as she slid her eyes to where Mr. Collins stood talking with his wife.

“Thank you, Miss Bingley. I enjoyed your song, as well. You play with such command of the keyboard.” Darcy hid a smile by looking at his feet.

“I have had the pleasure of many great masters. Who was your teacher? I admit to being surprised by your skill. It must have been difficult to attract a competent master to visit you in Cheapside.”

“My mother taught me the basics, and when I advanced my papa hired Monsieur Chambert.” Elizabeth’s voice was steady but, in her eyes, there were daggers.

“Chambert!” Miss Bingley gasped at the name of the most famous, and expensive, pianoforte master in England. “I know you jest, Eliza. He is very selective in his choice of students.”

Elizabeth shrugged. “As you say, Miss Bingley.”

“Oh, come now. You cannot think we will fall for your stories. Monsieur Chambert would never lower himself to give lessons so far from Mayfair.”

“You are correct. He would not wish to come so far. If you will excuse me.” Elizabeth curtsied to the group and moved toward her sister.

Darcy watched as Elizabeth gracefully stepped to Mrs. Collins’ side. It took much effort to tear his gaze from her person. When he finally gained control over his eyes, Miss Bingley quietly cleared her throat. “That girl will do anything to make herself look like a good catch for you, Mr. Darcy. You must remember that she is a nobody from Cheapside. It does not matter how great her portion, she is not for you.”

Darcy nodded. Elizabeth Gardiner was not for him. Pity.