Chapter Eight

October 15, 1811

Meryton Assembly

Elizabeth

Miss Elizabeth Bennet stood on the edges of the assembly hall next to her mother and her four sisters. Her father had remained at home; he disliked such events and eschewed them as often as politeness would allow. His absence this evening had vexed Mrs. Bennet greatly; Mr. Bennet had teased her incessantly about Mr. Bingley, and now he would not be here to perform the introductions. The Bennet matron and her brood would be forced to rely on Sir William Lucas for introductions.

Elizabeth watched the arrival of the Netherfield party with interest. They were tardy; no doubt their Town manners dictated that arriving fashionably late to an assembly where they knew no one beyond their own party was acceptable. She shifted a little to gain a better view of the guests.

Jane tilted her head toward Elizabeth. "Which one do you think is Mr. Bingley?" she asked.

"I imagine he is the gentleman that Sir William speaks to, the one with the reddish-blond hair and blue coat." Elizabeth liked the look of him. He had a cheerful disposition and a ready smile. Two ladies and two gentlemen accompanied him. One lady was on the arm of a portly gentleman with a florid face; the other stood very near to Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth thought she detected a familial resemblance between the two and surmised that they were likely brother and sister.

The last member of the party was a tall, forbidding gentleman who bore an austere demeanor. He stood a little behind the others, and Elizabeth thought he might flee at the slightest provocation.

She watched as Sir William approached the party with his daughter Charlotte, who was also Elizabeth's particular friend. She was situated too far from them to hear what was being said, but each member of the Netherfield party bowed or curtseyed as he performed the introductions.

"That artful Miss Lucas!" Mama groused. "Look how she hovers at her father's side hoping to secure a set with Mr. Bingley!"

"Hush, Mama," Jane said mildly. "They are coming this way."

Indeed, they were. Sir William led the way toward the Bennets. They were the closest group to the newly arrived party and were to be the recipients of the first introduction.

"Mrs. Bennet," he said jovially. "Mr. Bingley, please allow me to introduce Mrs. Bennet of Longbourn. I believe you have met her husband, Mr. Thomas Bennet. And these are their daughters, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, Miss Catherine, and Miss Lydia Bennet."

Kitty and Lydia giggled madly when Sir William introduced them, and Elizabeth closed her eyes in mortification.

"It is a pleasure. I have indeed met Mr. Bennet when he called at Netherfield Park upon my arrival. May I introduce my party to you? This is Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire. He is to be my guest for some months. My sister, Mrs. Louisa Hurst, and her husband Mr. Reginald Hurst…"

Elizabeth stopped listening when her attention became focused on the tall, solemn gentleman. Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy , she thought to herself. Noticing he watched her, she saw the panicked expression that stole across his countenance when Mr. Bingley requested Jane's hand for the first set. He glanced around anxiously before bowing crisply and striding away to the edge of the ballroom, where he positioned himself against the wall.

"Do forgive my friend," Mr. Bingley said cheerfully. "He has only just arrived, and I am afraid I surprised him with our attendance here tonight."

That is no excuse for incivility , Elizabeth thought caustically. He had not even attempted to excuse himself politely.

Mama had plenty to say about Mr. Darcy's behavior after Sir William led the rest of the Netherfield party away, but Elizabeth did not listen. She watched him instead, noting the restrained intensity in his eyes as he maintained a slight rigidity in his posture, which seemed to suggest an inner turmoil.

She continued to observe him, and as the first set was called, he approached Mrs. Hurst to request her hand for it. Since Mr. Hurst was nowhere to be seen, Elizabeth presumed she would accept. She could see Mrs. Hurst's guarded expression as Mr. Darcy led her to the floor.

Elizabeth danced the first with Mr. Arnold Goulding. He was an amiable gentleman and heir to Haye Park, an estate worth fifteen hundred pounds a year. Elizabeth might have found him attractive had she not grown up with him. He was more a brother to her than a potential suitor. Still, he was a friend and a skilled dancer, so she was happy to accept him.

John Lucas, Sir William and Lady Lucas's eldest son and Charlotte's younger brother, claimed Elizabeth's second set. While they danced, he spoke incessantly about the lady from Stevenage to whom he was betrothed. She bore it all with patience—diverted to see her friend so besotted, and she wished the couple every happiness.

After the second set, Elizabeth found herself obliged to sit out. The scarcity of gentlemen, many having gone off to fight in the war with Napoleon, meant there were not enough partners for every dance. She did not mind taking a seat for half an hour so that some other lady could dance. She chose a chair close enough to the dance floor that she might observe the set.

Mr. Darcy was very near to her, looking as formidable as ever. Brows furrowed, he remained leaning against a wall. He surveyed the room with a scowl, leading Elizabeth to consider him one of the most disapproving men she had ever met. Watching Mr. Bingley join him there during a pause in the music, she was close enough to overhear their conversation.

Mr. Bingley scolded the taciturn gentleman for his refusal to partake in the festivities. She mentally nodded her approval at his chastisement.

Well said, Elizabeth thought. The man deserves a sound tongue-lashing. He had done nothing but stalk the edges of the assembly hall since he danced with Mrs. Hurst.

Mr. Darcy's compliments to Jane did little to ease Elizabeth's pique at his behavior. She had never met a man who did not find her elder sister lovely. Jane was a classic, fashionable beauty and had a serene, pleasant temperament to go with her physical qualities. She had no equal. Thus, Mr. Bingley's declaration that she was an angel came as no surprise.

The gentleman's efforts to prod his friend into action turned toward Elizabeth, and she fought to keep her eyes on the dance floor even as she felt Mr. Darcy's gaze swivel toward her. She bit her lip and waited for his displeasure to spew from his lips. His refusal would surely be swift in coming.

"You know I cannot," Darcy said, his voice melancholy. She scoffed inwardly. As I thought. He is too proud.

"Should I single any lady out, I mark them for destruction," Mr. Darcy continued.

Shock filled Elizabeth's heart. What could he mean? She scrambled to focus anew her attention on the conversation as Mr. Bingley replied to his friend's words. What followed left her more confused than ever. Mr. Bingley chastised Mr. Darcy for giving credence to whatever ‘curse' he had been referring to, asking his friend why he would suddenly change his perspective. Mr. Darcy's reply shocked Elizabeth to her core.

Fine eyes? Elizabeth felt immediate regret for all the negative thoughts she had harbored about Mr. Darcy since his arrival. She felt a rush of heat, and then a chill as disbelief gave way to fascination. He means me, she thought in amazement. He finds me attractive! The shame of her hasty judgments weighed heavily upon her. Her initial impressions, formed so quickly upon the very first moments of their acquaintance, might indeed be wrong. Elizabeth struggled to refocus on the conversation as the thrill of Mr. Darcy's revelation threatened to overwhelm her.

Mr. Bingley was laughing. He teasingly accused Mr. Darcy of letting fear overcome good sense before presenting a perfectly sound solution to the gentleman's problem. He encouraged Mr. Darcy to dance every dance; thus, no preference for any lady would be shown, and the ladies would be quite safe.

Elizabeth tilted her head. It was a brilliant solution. Mr. Bingley was not only charming and good-natured; he was also an intelligent man! Oh, Jane, you are a fortunate soul!

Elizabeth chanced a glance at the conversing gentlemen. Mr. Darcy was beaming. His entire countenance had changed, and where she had once thought him only handsome, now he was devastatingly so. He had best not employ that smile around Mama, she mused. She would swoon!

Her thoughts whirled as the conversation between the gentlemen continued. Mr. Darcy is talking about me ? My goodness! I have tempted him? He finds it intolerable not to dance with me? She was certain she must look like a beetroot; she was blushing so deeply, but she could not help but feel flattered that such a gentleman would have any interest in her. Mrs. Bennet always spoke of Jane's superior looks; indeed, who could compare to the eldest Miss Bennet? But Mama rarely withheld her words denigrating Elizabeth's appearance, and it thrilled her that such an eligible man spoke of her in such a flattering manner.

My eyes are fine, and he thinks me lovely. Elizabeth expelled a soft sigh in satisfaction as she attempted to hide her smile and calm the butterflies in her stomach.

She noted Mr. Bingley nudging Mr. Darcy and steering him toward her. She glanced up and smiled at the pair now standing before her. Mr. Bingley quickly spoke of his friend's desire to dance.

Elizabeth eyed Mr. Darcy with open curiosity. Did he realize she had been privy to the entirety of their conversation? Her mouth quirked up in a mischievous smile and she met his gaze in challenge. What will you do, Mr. Darcy? Will you have your revenge on my blatant eavesdropping?

Mr. Darcy requested a set, and Elizabeth accepted, regarding him steadily and hoping her smile reached her eyes. Would he retreat until their dance began? What could she do to relieve his distress enough to allow him to enjoy his evening? On impulse, she asked, "Would you care to sit with me while we await the next set?"

Mr. Darcy seemed to choke on his words, and he looked frantically at his friend as though he did not know what to say in reply. Her heart went out to him, and she rushed to continue speaking, suggesting that they join Mrs. Long in conversation. Her elderly neighbor was much like Elizabeth's papa and despised social gatherings. She had weak eyes, and the bright lights often left her with a megrim, but the lady bore it for the sake of her nieces. Mr. Darcy's relief was palpable, and he accepted with alacrity, sagging with relief.

The conversation with Mrs. Long was predictable. She complained about the number of candles in the assembly hall as she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. Elizabeth could sense Mr. Darcy's unease, and before he might note the pity she began to feel for him, she turned her attention back to Mrs. Long with a topic that would mutually interest the pair. When she told the matron that Mr. Darcy hailed from Derbyshire, the conversation came to life. Mrs. Long now wore a genuine smile as she recited her memories of her home county, just as Elizabeth had hoped. She often spoke of her days in Derbyshire to her neighbors.

Mr. Darcy's interest was immediate, and Elizabeth noted his posture relax as their discourse began. Elizabeth barely spoke, allowing Mrs. Long to wax long about her time in the north. She had heard every story many times. Mr. Darcy conversed with equal fervor, speaking of his home and estate and his favorite sights in that county. When the next set was called, he thanked Mrs. Long for the pleasant conversation, and offered his arm to Elizabeth.

"I believe this is our promised set," he said politely. She smiled in reply.

As they moved to the center of the floor with the gathering couples, the orchestra struck a few notes before the music began in earnest. Elizabeth felt pleased with the slower-paced dance and for the opportunity to learn more of the mysterious man with whom she partnered.

Unfortunately, his wits seemed to have abandoned him again after they left Mrs. Long's side, and he fell into banal pleasantries. "I am grateful for the kind reception my friend has been granted here," he said lamely. If she had not been moved by his plight, Elizabeth would have laughed.

Instead, she remarked on how excited the area was to see the great house once again occupied and inquired about the length of Mr. Darcy's stay in Hertfordshire. She was thrilled when he said he had no fixed engagements and would be remaining for some time. Furthermore, he declared his preference for the country to Town; Elizabeth wholeheartedly agreed with his assessment, and it pleased her to know their thoughts were so aligned.

At length, she noted Miss Bingley dancing with John Lucas and made a quip about the lady's clear displeasure with her brother's choice of homes. The lady was as haughty a woman as she had ever seen! There was no sign of enjoyment on her part as she danced in silence. Though Mr. Lucas spoke animatedly, the lady did not reply, only nodding occasionally. The feathers on her turban were no longer hanging straight and caused her entire headdress to appear askew. Mr. Darcy turned to look at the lady. Miss Bingley's frown grew more pronounced, and she looked away.

It was quite surprising when Mr. Darcy confessed that Miss Bingley had a low opinion of him. It was obvious she held something against her brother's friend. The glares she sent in his direction were like daggers. Elizabeth yearned for further understanding, questioning what could drive a woman to be so adamantly against such a handsome and eligible man.

Darcy appeared accepting of his hostess's dislike, remarking that he would be slightly less comfortable as a guest of Netherfield Park, but that the lady would not scare him off before turning the subject to local sights. She learned that Mr. Darcy was an avid rider; she barely hid her grimace of distaste.

Their conversation throughout the rest of the set was agreeable and predictable. They spoke of horses, walking and places that Mr. Darcy might explore as he rode about the area. Elizabeth boldly offered to show him Oakham Mount, hoping that he would accept. Maybe you might join me there, and I can work out the puzzle that you present.

They spoke of pleasant nothings after that, engaging only in small talk and social niceties as their set progressed. Elizabeth was rather annoyed, for she wished to sketch his character more fully. She reminded herself that they had only just met and would surely be in company often during his stay. She did not need to know everything about him before this night ended, even though curiosity burned through her and demanded answers.

After the set's conclusion, Elizabeth further aided Mr. Darcy by presenting one of Mrs. Long's nieces as a new dance partner. She shot him a look that she hoped spoke volumes as he glanced at her, a question in his eyes. She wanted him to know that she had overheard his conversation with Bingley.

Mr. Darcy's overall manner seemed to lighten as the evening went on. Elizabeth watched him surreptitiously, pleased that he mingled so well with her neighbors and happy that he had found some employment other than guarding the wall all night. More than once, she met his gaze from across the room.

As the evening concluded, she thought to herself: Who are you, Mr. Darcy? She puzzled over the events of the evening long after the carriage had returned the Bennets to Longbourn, and she was snug in her bed. She was determined to find the answer.

Despite the late hour, she remained awake in bed, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of the confounding man from Derbyshire. The overheard conversation replayed in her head, and she contemplated the ‘curse' that Mr. Darcy had mentioned. There was nothing for it. She must come to know the gentleman better, if only to satisfy her own burning curiosity.

The next morning, Elizabeth rose with the sun, as was her wont—even after a night of revelry. A local seamstress had designed several of her walking gowns with buttons down the front to enable her to dress without aid. The servants had enough to see to in the mornings; if she could dress herself, she would do so.

Elizabeth left Longbourn with an apple and a scone in her pocket, purloined from the kitchen with a smile and a wink for Mrs. Hill, who returned the gesture with a raised brow, on her way out the back door. Elizabeth sometimes suspected she had picked up that habit from the devoted servant.

Her steps took her through the walled garden to the pretty wilderness beyond the house and through another gate that led to her favorite walking path. The trail meandered over a field and through an orchard before steepening as the land sloped upward into a hill. Upon reaching the end of the incline, one would discover the summit of Oakham Mount. The name was silly, for it was little more than a large hill and certainly nothing compared to the peaks Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Long had spoken of the night before.

She stood on the highest spot and gazed toward the rising sun. The great orb climbed steadily into the sky. A horse's neigh drew her attention, and she turned to see a rider approaching upon a large black stallion. As he approached her position, she recognized Mr. Darcy. She smiled as he came to a halt beside her. He did not dismount; she stood on a rise a little above him, which placed them almost eye to eye.

"Good day, Miss Elizabeth!" he called from atop his horse. "How do you do?"

"Good day, Mr. Darcy," she replied. "I am well this morning. There are few warm days left, and I despise being kept indoors by inclement weather."

"Would you care to walk with me?" Mr. Darcy's mouth snapped shut almost immediately after voicing his question, and Elizabeth thought he looked equal parts agony and hope as he awaited her reply.

"I am afraid I must decline this morning," she said regretfully. "As you can see, I am unaccompanied. It would not do for us to be unchaperoned." It pained her to deny his wish. She longed to walk with him, but his conversation with Mr. Bingley the night before was still fresh in her mind. Although she had the option to disregard societal norms and accompany him alone, such a decision would jeopardize not only her own reputation but also that of her sisters, particularly if there were any potential risks associated with Mr. Darcy.

She clearly saw the disappointment in his eyes, and he nodded. "I shall bid you a good day, then," he said, making to turn his horse away.

Desperation pushed Elizabeth to stop his departure. "I walk out most mornings," she said hurriedly. "If you care to meet here tomorrow, I will have a maid with me, and we might walk together." She bit her lip and shyly glanced away. She truly wished to know him better, but she would do so intelligently and responsibly.

Mr. Darcy grinned broadly and accepted the offered boon. "Tomorrow it is." He smiled. "Same time?"

"Yes." She curtsied and turned away, dropping out of sight as she went down the hill away from him. She did not look back but quickened her steps to reach Longbourn as expeditiously as possible.

The house was yet abed, save for her father, when she arrived in the breakfast room, and she took her usual seat on his left.

"You seem in good spirits this morning, Lizzy," he observed, glancing up from his newspaper. "Out walking even after your late night? I might have known."

Elizabeth grinned cheekily. "You ought to have known. Since my come out five years ago, I have done so. Perhaps if I lived in Town, spent my days in idle pursuits and filled my nights with revelries, I would sleep in more often."

"You would wither and die to be so confined," Papa quipped. "In Town you must have a footman or maid accompany you whenever you go out, and there are not as many walking paths there."

"You have convinced me, Papa. I shall never leave Longbourn!" They both laughed merrily and finished their meal in companionable silence. As they stood to leave the table, Kitty and Lydia snipped at each other as they came downstairs.

"I believe that is my signal to withdraw to my study," Papa muttered. "Good morning, my dear. Bear their ill-humors the best you can." He bent and kissed Elizabeth's forehead before shuffling off to his sanctuary at the back of the house.

Elizabeth hastened to follow, instead going to her bedchamber to change into a day gown. Once presentable, she meandered down to the parlor and took up a novel she had been meaning to finish. An hour later, Jane and Mary joined her.

"The Lucases mean to visit today," Jane murmured after greeting her favorite sister.

"As they always do," Elizabeth confirmed. "I am eager to meet Charlotte and hear her opinion of our new neighbors."

Jane flushed and dropped her gaze to her lap. "I found Mr. Bingley to be very agreeable," she confessed, a shy smile spreading across her lips.

"I did not dance more than once with him, but he seemed to me to be an engaging and intelligent person." Thoughts of the overheard conversation returned, and Elizabeth's brow furrowed momentarily before smoothing out. "What of you, Mary? Did you enjoy the evening?"

"It was tolerable, I suppose," Mary sniffed. "I finished my book whilst keeping Mama company. She never watches Kitty and Lydia closely enough, you know."

"Did you dance at all?" Jane asked, perplexed.

"Not once!" Lydia's loud voice came from the doorway, and she brayed a laugh at her sister's expense. "Kitty and I danced every dance, though."

"I do not prefer dancing as a means of enjoyment," Mary said stiffly.

"No, you would rather bore us to death with your treatises and sermons or deafen us with your abysmal attempts at the pianoforte." Lydia scoffed and stuck out her tongue.

"Lydia, that is unkind," Jane chastised gently. "Not everyone likes crowded rooms and noisy spaces."

Lydia rolled her eyes and flopped onto the settee. "Where is Mama?" she complained. "It is nearly noon, and the Lucases will be here soon. I am dying to speak to Maria about Cynthia Goulding's gown. Did you see it? It was the ghastliest thing I have ever seen! Such an ugly color and covered in so much lace that she looked like one of Mama's tablecloths."

Elizabeth met Jane's commiserating gaze, saying nothing, as their youngest sister rambled on about the monstrous gown Miss Goulding had worn. Mama and Kitty then joined them, and soon, the Lucases were being announced.

Tea was served, and the ladies sat, speaking amiably about the prior evening's events.

"What think you of the Netherfield party, Lady Lucas?" Mama asked. "How fortuitous that your Charlotte received the favor of a set immediately upon their arrival."

"Yes, Mr. Bingley was very kind. But he danced with your Jane twice! I think it is clear where his favor lies." Lady Lucas cast a knowing look at Mama. Mrs. Bennet preened.

"He quite admired my Jane. Who could not, for she is everything lovely and genteel! Did you see the lace on Mrs. Hurst's cap? I declare it was very fine. It looked French! Do you think she managed to get French lace despite the war? I am quite envious and wished I could have inquired where she purchased it."

The matrons spoke together, ignoring the younger ladies. Kitty and Lydia promptly escorted Maria to their chamber, while Mary remained immersed in her reading and Jane and Elizabeth attended to Charlotte's amusement.

"And what is your opinion, Elizabeth? What think you of our new neighbors?" Charlotte asked.

"Jane finds Mr. Bingley agreeable," Elizabeth said in a teasing voice.

"No one could doubt Mr. Bingley's interest," Charlotte agreed, amidst Jane's protestations. "And the others of the party?"

"Mr. Hurst seems an indifferent sort," Elizabeth said slowly. "His wife and sister-in-law kept their noses so high in the air, I doubt they could see where they were walking."

"That is not a fair assessment, Lizzy," Jane admonished. "You were scarcely more than introduced to them last night."

"Ah, Jane, ever the voice of reason," she replied dramatically. "Very well, I shall give them another chance, despite having it on good authority that they dislike Hertfordshire and Meryton."

"And from whom did you receive this information?" Charlotte asked curiously.

Elizabeth felt her cheeks pinken a little. "Mr. Darcy mentioned it as we danced last night," she confessed.

"I see. He would have better knowledge than us, I suppose." Charlotte sipped her tea. "Tell me, do I detect some interest in that gentleman?"

Mama cut in. "Mr. Darcy seems to me a perfectly amiable gentleman. Did you notice he did not sit out a set after he danced with Lizzy? I suspect he was uncomfortable in the new surroundings. Trust my Lizzy to put him at ease! He danced with you too, Charlotte, did he not?"

"He did, ma'am," Charlotte confirmed. "We enjoyed a pleasurable conversation. Mr. Darcy seems well-informed and has impeccable manners."

"I was worried when he walked off asking no one to dance," Mrs. Bennet said seriously. "But he has more than made up for that lapse in manners. What serendipity it was to have more gentlemen at the assembly!"

"The ladies indeed had more opportunities to dance," Mrs. Lucas agreed. "There were very few that were forced to sit out for want of a partner."

"It will be no hardship to welcome our new neighbors," Mrs. Bennet said, nodding. "You must invite them to your soiree in two weeks, Lady Lucas."

"Certainly." The two matrons returned to their conversation, leaving the younger ladies to speak amongst themselves once more.

"You have evaded my question for now, Lizzy," Charlotte teased. "Do not imagine you can put me off forever."

"You are seeing things where there is nothing to see," Elizabeth protested. "One cannot accurately sketch a character in an evening, as Jane rightly pointed out. Only time can tell if Mr. Bingley and Jane will suit or if Mr. Darcy is as eager to make himself agreeable as his friend. I am content with learning more of our new acquaintances at my leisure."

Charlotte smiled wryly. "Be sure to show your interest before it is too late, my friends. Gentlemen need a little encouragement, you know."

They spent the last of their time together discussing the books they were presently reading and other pastimes. Elizabeth found her mind wandering to Mr. Darcy more than once and she looked forward to the next morning with anticipation.