Chapter 7

Lucas Lodge

Three Days Later

21 st October, 1811

The drawing room in Lucas Lodge was filled with people and conversations. It was to be only a small gathering, and Mrs. Bennet had permitted her youngest two daughters to attend. Now Kitty and Lydia sat huddled in the corner with Maria Lucas, the three girls whispering and giggling together, their knees almost touching as they leaned in.

Elizabeth glanced at her sisters and smiled before returning her attention to her own conversation. Charlotte Lucas, the eldest of the Lucas children, sat serene and composed at her left, with Jane and Mary side by side on the couch adjacent to them, while Erica Long sat next to her sister Selina on a loveseat. Elizabeth took a sip of her tea, listening indulgently as Erica waxed excited about the assembly the previous week.

"And did you see Miss Bingley's dress?" the girl, nineteen years of age, exclaimed excitedly. "That fabric! And of such an exquisite color!"

"Her earrings were the very height of elegance," Selina sighed dreamily.

Elizabeth let the conversation wash over her. She did not mind talking about fashion, but it did not intrigue her that greatly, and the Longs were eager to talk far more about it than she was. It was easier to let them talk and interject her own commentary only rarely; Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst had been dressed very grandly indeed, but Elizabeth had thought more pertinent their expressions of haughty superiority.

A chance remark from Selina recalled her wandering thoughts. "Aunt Emma said that the rest of the regiment will arrive in Meryton shortly! How grand it will be!"

"Truly, the officers here tonight are only a tenth of the full regiment," Charlotte remarked. "A militia regiment under the command of one Colonel Forster will be spending the winter. Several of the officers were sent forward to make arrangements with Father."

"How exciting!" Erika squealed. "We shall have the great pleasure of dancing with handsome officers in red coats!"

Elizabeth glanced reflexively towards where her youngest sisters sat. It would be nice to have enough partners at the assemblies. As it stood, the young women were often required to sit out for want of a partner.

She anticipated that their father would encourage his daughters to flirt with the officers in hopes of marrying one of them off at last. Mrs. Montgomery would restrain Kitty and Lydia, at least, on the very reasonable grounds that they were too young to be out in company much. Mary, plain and sensible, would have enough sense to withstand her father's pressure and refrain from encouraging familiarity from officers whose characters the girls could not know, and who were likely too poor to wed a lady. Elizabeth, for her own part, would keep a close eye on her handsome youngest sisters when they did attend the smaller parties that were sure to highlight that winter.

As though her thoughts of the upcoming cold weather had summoned it, a draft of chill air brushed against the back of Elizabeth's neck, and she turned with her companions to look past where the matrons sat talking. Mr. Bingley stepped into the room from the vestibule, his curly hair in perfect order and his blue evening coat flatteringly cut. His eyes swept the room and landed on Jane, and only when Mr. Darcy nudged him subtly did he step forward to greet Sir William, who approached with a broad smile on his face.

Darcy stepped up beside his friend, with Miss Bingley on his arm appearing rosy in a most flattering pink dress. Mr. and Mrs. Hurst came right behind them, Mr. Hurst unremarkable in his plain evening dress and Mrs. Hurst shining like a jewel in a deep green silk that set off her hair and eyes wonderfully. Despite their fine attire, Elizabeth thought in amusement, both women wore faintly unpleasant expressions, looking disdainfully about the company with their noses lifted.

Their brother, by contrast, was exchanging amiable greetings with their host, though he kept glancing over in the direction of the young women on the couch. When Sir William turned away at last, Mr. Bingley hurried towards the small group of young women.

"Miss Bennet, ladies!" he cried eagerly. "Good evening!"

Jane stood up and smiled with equal enthusiasm. "Good evening, Mr. Bingley. I hope you are well?"

"Very well, thank you!" he replied, beaming joyfully.

Jane hesitated a little and then deliberately walked away from the group of goggling ladies, and Bingley followed.

Elizabeth turned toward Charlotte in the hopes of allowing her sister some privacy, but she had sharp ears and heard Jane say, "Mr. Bingley, I realized I have not asked you about your home town in the north. What is it like?"

"Mr. Bingley and Jane seem to be getting along well," Charlotte said, drowning out the others' conversation.

"I think they are perfectly matched," Selina Long said with a dreamy sigh. "He is so handsome, and she is so beautiful!"

Elizabeth blew out a breath at these words but merely smiled. It was not an unusual opinion, certainly, but with her mother's warnings ringing in her ears, it seemed a foolish perspective. Thomas Bennet had appeared to be everything a girl could wish for, and now he was an irritable, ailing man, old before his time.

A voice from her left pulled her out of her reverie, and she looked up as Lady Lucas bustled up with a smile on her face. "Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, might you be willing to play the instrument for us?"

Elizabeth exchanged a quick glance with her sister and then, seeing Mary's nod of acceptance, stood up immediately. "Well, I insist on going first, because Mary is so much better than I am that everyone would be disappointed if I were to follow her!"

"Nonsense, Eliza," Charlotte said reprovingly. "You play very nicely."

"And your voice is far better than mine," Mary offered.

Elizabeth could not deny that this was true and obediently made her way to the pianoforte, whereupon she played and sang two songs. Her performance was pleasing, but by no means capital. This did not bother her; she knew that a woman who practiced more would be a much more accomplished player, but she had no hesitation in displaying her meager skills to entertain her neighbors.

Fitzwilliam Darcy, who had attended this party largely to evaluate Bingley's newest ‘angel', found himself strangely mesmerized by Miss Elizabeth's performance on the pianoforte. Strangely, because her performance was no great thing; she did not hit every note correctly, nor was the music particularly difficult.

It was, he thought, her demeanor and joy in singing and playing that caught his notice. Most ladies of high society put on airs to be interesting and showed little genuine pleasure in their creation of music. One of the few exceptions to that rule was Georgiana, who obviously adored playing both the pianoforte and the harp.

Maybe that was all it was? Perhaps Miss Elizabeth reminded Darcy of his own dear sister?

"I suppose," a sarcastic voice came from Darcy's right side, "that this is the sort of expert playing and singing that we can expect in these parts."

Darcy did not bother to turn his head; he would recognize Miss Bingley's voice from a hundred feet away. She also wore an expensive perfume, and the smell of lavender wafted into his nostrils.

He wished, at this moment, that she was one hundred feet away. He knew that she wanted to marry him, not because she cared for him, but because she wished to be the mistress of a grand estate.

He would never marry her. But she was also his best friend's sister, and a lady, so he was required to be courteous.

"Miss Elizabeth's performance was entirely pleasing," he said repressively.

"Oh, for this backwards locale, most assuredly," his companion replied drily. "Oh, and now we will be forced to listen to the third Bennet daughter – I do not remember her name…"

"Miss Mary," Darcy said absently, watching as Elizabeth relinquished the pianoforte in favor of her sister. The younger woman was not nearly as pretty as her older sisters, but she was, he discovered within a minute, a truly excellent performer, at least as good as Georgiana, and perhaps even slightly better. Based on the huff of frustration that escaped from Miss Bingley's mouth, he could tell that she thought so as well. Miss Mary Bennet was truly skilled.

The crowd obviously agreed, because they clapped with enthusiasm after Miss Mary's performance of two songs. Mary Bennet smiled and nodded, and then, after the eldest Miss Lucas murmured in her ear, promptly began playing a lively reel. Darcy, turning away from the instrument, observed that an area at one end of the room had been cleared for dancing. Even as he watched, a few militia officers asked some of the girls to dance, and a moment later, Bingley, smiling broadly, escorted Miss Bennet onto the dance floor.

There was a hiss of outrage from Miss Bingley. "Really, my brother ... oh Mr. Darcy, I fear that Charles is far too taken with Miss Bennet who, while admittedly very beautiful, has no money and poor connections. I do wish you would speak to him!"

Darcy did not deign to answer, but he did watch his friend. He knew Bingley well, and while the man was always congenial and sociable, Darcy was of the view that Bingley was, in fact, very interested in the eldest Miss Bennet. Given that the lady was blonde, blue eyed, and exceptionally beautiful, that was no great surprise. More than that, though, Miss Bennet appeared to be a kindly woman and did not boast of her accomplishments or subtly put other ladies down. She seemed an excellent woman, and Darcy thought it was nearly time for him to intervene before Bingley lost his heart even more than he already had.

"Mr. Darcy?" Caroline Bingley demanded sharply. "Will you speak to my brother?"

Darcy finally turned to look down at his unwanted companion and nodded his head once. "If necessary, I will intervene, yes."

Miss Bingley's tight expression faded into one of saccharine sweetness. "Then I have no concern at all! I am confident that my brother will listen to your concerns and break off his absurd pursuit of Miss Bennet immediately."

Darcy turned away, grimaced, and did not bother to answer. He had no intention of telling Bingley anything – the arrangement between them had never required words, but actions. And act he would.

He waited until the dance came to an end and then walked over to where Bingley and Miss Bennet were exiting the dance floor, both with flushed faces and pleased expressions.

"Miss Bennet," Darcy said, reminding himself to smile. "Might I have the honor of the next dance?"

Miss Bennet looked briefly startled and then nodded graciously. "Of course, Mr. Darcy. Thank you."

Darcy deliberately smiled more broadly and held out his arm to the lady. Bingley relinquished Miss Bennet's hand and wandered off toward Sir William Lucas, while Darcy led Miss Bennet onto the dance floor.

The ensuing dance was enjoyable enough, as Darcy's partner was a nimble and elegant dancer. The conversation was adequate, too, if not particularly scintillating. Miss Bennet might be the most handsome of the Bennet ladies, but her next younger sister was brighter and wittier. But that did not matter; it was Miss Bennet who had drawn Bingley's gaze, and thus Darcy must not waste much time thinking about Miss Elizabeth.

That was, he confessed to himself, more difficult than he anticipated, as that young woman was drawing more and more of his attention. But as fascinating as Miss Elizabeth was, she was poorly connected, and thus not a worthy bride for a Darcy.