“That is a hit below the belt,” he muttered, vexed. “So you are saying that what is good for the goose is good for the gander. Do not overstep, Elizabeth. I will not always be patient.”
She set down her cup and looked at him directly. “Mr. Lucas, as I said, there is no understanding between us; there never has been. I do not know what you mean by ‘overstep,’ and when you say you will not always be patient, it sounds very like a threat. I cannot imagine what you threaten me with. That if I do not act the wallflower and wait for you to turn your attention, you will forget me?”
His face changed at once. “No, that is not what I meant. I do not know what I meant. Pray forget it. It was ridiculous. I beg your pardon.”
“And, Mr. Lucas,” she added quietly, “we are in public. Because we grew up together does not mean you may use my name, nor I yours. We forget ourselves. I am Miss Elizabeth to you when we are in public.”
He scowled at her. “I go to town for three weeks and return to find you impertinent, and making eyes at other men.”
“Excuse me, sir,” Elizabeth said, with dignity. “I have heard enough.” She turned away.
His hand half lifted, then fell. She was right; there was no claim he might make.
The remainder of the evening passed pleasantly. Mr. Bennet’s timely intervention kept his younger daughters in order. The Bennet family made a good impression upon the Netherfield party, and Mr. Bennet found that he was satisfied with the actionhe had taken and was gratified that his efforts had been fruitful. As for Elizabeth, when she met Mr. Darcy’s eyes across the room, she was surprised to see promise there; and when she caught Alexander’s gaze upon her, she saw anger, and it struck her with grief.
Chapter 4: A Picnic
It was a lovely day, perfect for a picnic. The grass was green, the ground dry, and the wildflowers were in full bloom. Mrs. Goulding had set tables with tiny sandwiches and other delicate fare at the edge of her lawns, where the turf gave way to fields that rose into rolling hills and a wood. Beyond the trees lay a bluebell meadow in full glory.
The company had amused themselves with croquet upon the lower lawn and a turn at the butts for archery, when Mr. Goulding called out, in excellent spirits, that the ladies must pair for a race. Mrs. Goulding and her two daughters came forward with baskets filled with bright ribbons and, laughing, bound each pair by the ankle. In a few moments, a cheerful line was formed upon the grass: Elizabeth with Jane; Lydia with Georgiana; Charlotte with Maria; Mary King with Kitty; Abby and Anise, the Goulding sisters; and several other pairs besides. The gentlemen stood off to one side, prepared to cheer or to advise, as their temper inclined.
Miss Bingley refused to participate in the sport. She puckered up her sour face and pronounced, “It is a demeaning pastime.” When Mr. Goulding blew the whistle, she moved to the edge of the field and delivered an insult, her voice smooth as silk.
“Miss Eliza, I shall wager you will win. Your figure is more like that of a boy than of a woman. Wiry girls are made to toil in the fields or fisheries rather than to grace a ballroom or a box at the theatre.”
Elizabeth flushed, and her eyes stung, but Jane pressed her arm and cautioned, “Lizzy, it is nothing; she is merely jealous. Weboth know you are considered one of the local beauties, and you are not wiry, whatever she may say.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam was standing nearby watching the proceedings, and he leaned in and said, “Take no notice, Miss Elizabeth. She is merely jealous, for you are lovelier, more refined, and more elegant than she. And besides, you will contrive to run beautifully, even trussed like a sheep for shearing.”
Elizabeth’s eyes lit with amusement. “You are very kind, Colonel.”
“Not at all,” he returned easily. “Take it from a man who has marched half of Europe, keep the same step, mind your footing, and you will leave them all behind.”
Mr. Goulding lifted his whistle. “Ladies, ready!”
Darcy called, half laughing, “Remember, Georgiana, short steps. Keep in time with your partner.”
“Yes, brother,” Georgiana answered, smiling at Lydia. “We shall attempt to move as one.”
Lydia giggled. “Left—right—left—right—We will win for certain, Georgiana!”
Richard said in mock command, “Friendly diplomacy on the left foot; Bennet determination on the right. When in doubt, smile and hop.”
Miss Bingley folded her arms and looked on with cool disdain.
The whistle sounded. Off they went in a lively, hopping line: Jane and Elizabeth with admirable composure; Lydia and Georgiana all laughter with near-collisions; Charlotte and Maria, practical and exact; and Mary King and Kitty as earnestas if their lives depended upon it; all the other young ladies hopped with more laughter, squeals, and merriment than with forward movement. There was a general inclination to tumble, but the turf was kind, and the ribbons didn’t bite.
“Capital!” cried Mr. Bingley, clapping until his curls shook. “Miss Bennet, Miss Eliza, bravo!”
“Beautiful timing,” said Richard, cupping his hands. “Do not let Lydia lead you into the shrubbery, Georgiana!” He was too late. The two young girls landed in a heap in the bushes.
Elizabeth and Jane drew a little ahead with an easy, even rhythm. Mary King and Kitty rallied and began to gain on the two Bennet sisters; Charlotte and Maria at last worked out a rhythm and ran to catch the rest. Seeing that they were only a few yards from the finish, Elizabeth murmured to Jane, “Left, right, left, right,” and together they hopped over the line, just ahead of the Lucas sisters, who tripped up moments before reaching it.
The bystanders cheered, and many laughed heartily at the antics of the young women. Mrs. Goulding was satisfied with the success of her entertainment, and she ensured that all the matrons offered her their congratulations upon the scheme.
Elizabeth, breathless and laughing, looked up in time to see Colonel Fitzwilliam bowing to her with exaggerated ceremony.
“As foretold,” he said. “Elegance and strategy prevailed. I shall draft a report to Horse Guards at once.”
