Chapter 7

Easter 1806

Elizabeth Rose Bennet was in anticipation of the assembly upcoming which would be a fortnight after Holy Friday. As sad as the mentioned day was when the Son of God had been crucified after Judas betrayed Him, she could not help but look forward to her first assembly.

Even though she would not be considered out in wider society until she was seventeen, like Jane before her, Elizabeth would make her local debut at the first assembly after she had turned sixteen. Dancing was one of her many pleasures. Until the ball she would attend she had stood up with her sisters when the dance master had come to impart his knowledge. Due to Papa being busy with his business interests and the fact she was one of five sisters, it was only very occasionally Elizabeth, like her other sisters, would have the pleasure of dancing with her father. Of all of her sisters, Elizabeth was closest to Jane.

Jane had turned nineteen in January past. She was, in Elizabeth’s completely unbiased opinion, by far the most beautiful of them all. Not only that, there was none in the neighbourhood who approached Jane in looks. Elizabeth was very careful not to emphasise Jane’s beauty as she well knew Jane wanted to be appreciated for the content of her character and not for the outer fa?ade, over which she had no control, which she presented to the world.

Jane’s aversion to being judged and appreciated purely on her looks was brought into stark relief when the son of Admiral Crawford, the then tenant of Netherfield Park, Henry, had become enamoured of Jane when she was sixteen and had come out locally. However, it was obvious to anyone, especially Jane, that all he saw was her outward shell and had no interest in her beyond a pretty bauble to decorate his arm.

The final straw was when he wrote some romantic verses he claimed to have been his own. Jane thought she recognised them from some poems she had read. Hence, she had shown the poetry to Lizzy who was sure she knew who wrote them. They went to see Mrs. Frost in the schoolroom, who confirmed Elizabeth’s claim they had been written by the poet Anna Dodsworth. When Mr. Crawford had been confronted with the proof of his plagiarism, he had, thankfully, withdrawn from the field. It was no coincidence the Crawfords had quit Netherfield Park before the end of their lease.

Since then, there had been no more serious beaus who had pursued Jane. She had spent some months of the current season in London, staying with the Gardiners. From Mary on up, the Bennet sisters loved their time being hosted by the Gardiners on Berkeley Square. When Cathy and Lydia reached the age of thirteen—which for the former was next year—they too would begin to spend time in Town.

By mid-1803 the Gardiners had outgrown their house on Gracechurch Street in the City. Their second son, Peter was born in June 1800, then they were blessed with a second daughter, May, in February 1803. Once Madeline had become with child for the fourth time, they had realised they would need a larger house.

A house in a fashionable part of Town had not been their aim. However, through Gardiner’s business contacts, he had heard about the house they now occupied. A gentleman who had lost heavily at the tables was in dire need and had been desperate to sell to try to save his ancestral estate. It had been a necessity to completely refurbish and fix up the house—the man had sold off almost anything which was not attached to the physical structure, which had been part of the rationale for the reduced price. With the price being as low as it was, there had been more than enough funds to bring the house back to its former glory. This May upcoming would be three years in their new house. It was only a few doors down, on the same side of the square from Fitzwilliam House.

When Jane had returned to Longbourn, not many days before Elizabeth’s sixteenth birthday, she had not been very forthcoming about her time in London other than to say she had enjoyed dancing at some balls. Given how reticent Jane could be, Elizabeth did not attempt to force a confidence from her sister, knowing Jane would share when, or if, she was ready to do so.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~

The Matlock’s Ball to open the Season, February 1806

“Aunt Maddie, how is it we have been invited to a ball hosted by one of the leaders of the Ton?” Jane asked in wonder the day of the aforementioned ball.

She had returned to Berkeley Square with the Gardiners after they had spent Christmas past at Longbourn. No invitations to Twelfth Night balls had been accepted. The reputation of those balls among the denizens of society was well known. The Bennets would not allow, and neither would the Gardiners, for Jane to attend a ball where unbridled debauchery was the order of the day.

“Lord Matlock is one of your uncle’s investors, and we have become acquaintances of theirs, especially since our move to Berkeley Square,” Madeline explained. “You have heard mention of Fitzwilliam House on the square, have you not?” Jane nodded her head. “It will belong to their second son in the next year or two, I believe.”

“They invited us even though Uncle is in trade?” Jane verified.

“Yes, Janey. Your Uncle Edward has many connections within polite society. His ability to make money for them seems to obscure their normal disdain for those in trade.” Madeline decided to change the subject. “It is a great pity Charlotte could not accompany you. There is a much greater variety of men to be met in Town.”

“She chose to remain and help her mother nurse Sir William,” Jane averred. “He has had a hard time of it since he fell from his horse and broke his leg. Her parents granted their permission for her to join me, but she felt it was her duty to remain and assist Lady Lucas.”

Soon it was time to change and prepare for the night among some of the upper ten thousand.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~

When she traversed the receiving line with her aunt and uncle, for the brief moment she had stood before the Countess of Matlock, Jane had thought the woman reminded her of someone. As she was taking in everything around her, she gave it no more thought, being very distracted by all of the new experiences, as she and the Gardiners moved on. Once passed the receiving line, Jane, her aunt, and uncle slowly followed those making their way into the ballroom.

Jane had never seen a ballroom as large as the one she entered in Matlock House. It was glowing with the light of hundreds, or possibly thousands, of beeswax candles. She was grateful she had allowed Aunt Maddie to talk her into ordering the gown she wore especially for this night. Jane’s only concern was that she would not embarrass her aunt and uncle, she would not. She looked ethereal in the new pale blue silk gown.

The Fitzwilliam brothers, William Darcy, Jamey Carrington, and the two relatively recently married couples—Andrew had married his cousin Belle and Sed had joined his life with Emily in a joint ceremony, which had packed St. Paul’s and left not an open pew in December 1805—were standing in a group speaking when Richard’s eye caught the vision of beauty which had just entered the ballroom.

Richard had graduated from Cambridge in May 1804, and William had done so the following May. Since their graduation—there had been no grand tour thanks to the war with the little tyrant—the former had spent all of his time at Rosings Park which would become his property in less than two years. The latter was at Rivington gaining experience of running an estate on his own.

Thanks to the proximity of the estates, the two cousins’ already deep bonds had become even deeper. Not long after he had taken up residence at his estate, Lady Catherine had attempted to work on him believing him too weak and inexperienced to know better. She had been told that unless she returned to her dower house and never tried to interfere again, she would be banished per the terms of her late husband’s will. She had tried to appoint a newly ordained clergyman to fill the living at Hunsford. The sycophant had been sent away with his tail between his legs, and told in no uncertain terms of Lady Catherine’s impotence to control anything regarding the estate.

William did not miss the direction of Richard’s eyes. “Now that is one who would absolutely fit Bingley’s requirements,” William observed.

In his final year at Cambridge, he had met the affable Charles Bingley from Sheffield. He was the son of a tradesman—a wealthy one—who manufactured cutlery and jewellery in silver and other metals, including electroplated nickel silver, and items in pewter as well. He had been assigned to be the first-year’s mentor.

At first, William had balked at being connected to the son of a tradesman, but he soon discovered Bingley’s loquaciousness was a perfect balance for his taciturn nature. Where he was uncomfortable in social settings when he was not familiar with those attending, Bingley was at ease with all and eased William’s way taking the attention away from him. By the end of William’s final year, he and Bingley were the best of friends.

There was only one rather large negative associated with Bingley and that was in the form of Miss Caroline Bingley, the youngest of the three Bingley siblings. Not only was she someone to whom no one in the Bingley family said no, but she was an inveterate social climber and fortune hunter. No sooner had Bingley mentioned the wealth associated with the Darcys than the shrew, who was seventeen at the time, set her cap for him. It was providentialthat after seeing her reaction to himself, the only time he had the displeasure of meeting Miss Bingley, William had admonished Bingley not to discuss his family with his younger sister. He could only imagine her reaction to his noble relatives. On telling his parents about her, they had instructed she was not to be invited to any of their homes.

There was an older sister, now Mrs. Hurst. She was, in fact, the eldest of the three and had married a few months before William had met Bingley. It was good news as he was sure it would have been two Bingley sisters, not one, who would have seen him as her prey.

In one of their discussions before William had graduated, Bingley had described his ideal woman, and it was all based on physical attributes. He was enamoured with tall, willowy women with blonde hair and blue eyes. The lady who had entered with the older couple matched all of his friend’s requirements.

Bingley was supposed to have been in attendance, but his absence had nothing to do with his final year of study at Cambridge. A tragic fire at the Bingley home in Sheffield had claimed his parents’ lives in mid-January of this year. William had attended the funeral—at which the harpy had dropped hints of why she would make him the ideal wife—but he would not see Bingley until the three months of deep mourning was complete. He shook himself out of the ruminations about Bingley. Richard’s eyes were still fixed on the blonde.

“You know not if she is from the first circles or she is appropr…” William closed his mouth at the growl Richard emitted.

“How is it in our family you are the only arrogant horse’s arse?” Richard demanded so only William could hear. “I look for far more than connections and fortune. I neither need, nor do I ask for your counsel.”

“It was kindly meant,” William sniffed.

Seeing the couple and their charge speaking to one of his neighbours on Berkeley Square, Richard approached Huntington-Jones and requested an introduction. He recognised the name Gardiner. Not only was he the man with whom his father and uncles invested, but the man owned a house a few doors away from Fitzwilliam House. Knowing how it would irk Lady Catherine, he had had his father change the name from de Bourgh House soon after Uncle Lewis’s mourning period was complete. The veritable angel was Miss Jane Bennet of Longbourn.

Richard had danced the second set with the lady, and then he had solicited her hand for the supper set. During their discussions, he had discovered she was so very much more than just a pretty face. As much as his selfish desire was to request permission to call on her, he was well aware he would be extremely busy for the next few years completing his education in estate management and then taking possession of his inheritance in February 1808.

Regardless of his desires, he did not want to excite expectations in the lady. All he could do was hope she would not be lost to him by the time he was ready to settle down and seek a wife.

For Jane’s part, she felt an attraction to Mr. Fitzwilliam. He was not the most handsome of men, but he was certainly not homely. Even better, it seemed he saw past her outward looks. He had elicited many smiles from her at dinner. She had never reacted to a man in this way before.

From his table at dinner—William had kept away from Richard since being admonished by him—he thought the lady smiled too much.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~

Much to Jane’s disappointment, Mr. Fitzwilliam had not called on her and by the time she had departed for the celebration of Lizzy’s birthday, Jane was rather disappointed she had not seen Mr. Fitzwilliam again.

In her mind, it meant he had no interest in her. It saddened her, but she vowed to keep her serene mask in place when she returned home. She would not be able to discuss anything regarding her feelings of loss, not even with Lizzy. Jane deemed she had been silly to think there would be something more than they had shared at the ball.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~

The Present

Elizabeth had noticed the look of sadness in Jane’s visage when the latter thought she was unobserved. All she could do was hope at some point her beloved older sister would feel able to share her tribulations with her.

She smiled to herself when she thought of the games of chess she continued to play via the post. Master Darcy had come close to beating her in a game a few months before she beat Papa the first time. Since then, neither he, nor some of his cousins who had asked to challenge her had come close. The best he had done was to play her to a draw a few times. Every table in the chess parlour was in use. Between herself and Papa, they had more than fifteen games going at once.

These days she and Papa won as many games as they lost against one another. She had not met any of those she played against, thanks to Papa’s aversion to going to London, unless there was no alternative. On the rare occasions when her father had to travel to London, it was never for more than an overnight stay, hence he never took her or one of her sisters with him.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~

William Collins was at a loss as to why he had not been preferred to a lucrative living in a parish. He had been positive the munificent Lady Catherine de Bourgh was about to prefer him to the valuable living open at the Hunsford parish when he had been ordered to leave the area.

It had been so very humiliating that Lady Catherine, according to her disrespectful nephew, had no authority to appoint anyone, and was not as she had told him, the mistress of Rosings Park. The disrespect which had been displayed when he, a clergyman, had been ordered away from the estate, was beyond the pale. If his father had been alive, he would have been able to seek his wise counsel.

Clem Collins had met his end by a ball from a pistol when he had tried to intimidate the wrong man in April 1804.

Some years before his father was murdered, William had managed to convince his father of the myriad advantages of having himself educated. At first, the older Collins had forcefully rejected the idea. Once his son’s cuts and bruises had subsided, he had managed to explain the advantages to his father. His father had approved and hence William had been schooled eventually and by the skin of his teeth, graduated, taken orders, and had been ordained. His honoured father had been brutally murdered before the day his son had completed his studies.

As much as he thought the position of curate was below him, without being preferred to any living, Collins began the search for any position he could gain.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~

At the assembly, Elizabeth had danced the first set with Papa. Much to her delight, other than the one set all young ladies sat out, her card was without an opening. In fact, she had to turn men away.

She was well aware Johnny Lucas had a tendre for her, one she did not return, so she had to refuse his entreaty to dance a second set explaining her parents had restricted her to one set per man. It was basically true, except Elizabeth withheld it had been her request her parents impose such a limit.

As much as she liked Johnny as her friend’s brother, it was the only way she saw him. She knew in the depths of her heart she could not, and would not, ever love Johnny Lucas in the romantic sense. It did not make it easier when Charlotte dropped hints of her brother’s regard for her younger friend often enough. Elizabeth was aware at some point she would have to be brutally honest regarding Johnny and her lack of feelings for him.

By the end of the night, there had been enough dancing, even for one who loved the exercise as much as Elizabeth. On the one mile trip to their home in the carriage, Elizabeth watched Jane and in her opinion, Jane looked as she always did.

All Elizabeth could do was hope what had caused an ache in Jane’s loving heart, was no longer doing so.