“She is perfection itself, is she not?”
“I find her sister more to my tastes, to be honest.”
Bingley fell silent. Darcy waited for him to speak, and when he said nothing, he nudged his friend’s boot.
“There is something about her, Darcy,” Bingley whispered. “It is as if a ghost from my past has arisen. But it cannot be so. She is not…” Bingley’s voice faded.
“Not what?” Darcy probed.
Bingley sighed. “Nothing, Darcy. It is nothing.”
Chapter Seven
October 1811
Longbourn
Elizabeth
“Charlotte!Welcome.”Mrs.Bennetgreeted the Lucas ladies as they entered the parlor. To the youngest lady, she said, “Maria, Kitty and Lydia are upstairs waiting for you.”
Maria Lucas bobbed a quick curtsey and rushed from the room. At just sixteen years of age, the younger Miss Lucas had been allowed to attend the first half of the assembly the night before. Kitty and Lydia had begged their parents to allow them to go as well, but Mrs. Bennet firmly reminded them that all her girls were required to wait until eighteen before attending even local events.
“You will have time enough to enjoy yourselves,” she said. “Perhaps you might walk into Meryton and pick a pretty ribbon.”
This had pacified the youngest Bennets, and they reluctantly agreed to bring the matter up no more.
Nineteen-year-old Mary had stayed home the night before. Having caught a cold three days previously, she did not feel up to attending the assembly. “I can barely breathe as it is,” she reasoned when Mama tried to convince her to go. “It would not do for me to swoon on the dance floor.” She looked much improved that morning and now sat at the pianoforte, playing quietly in the corner.
Papa and Thomas had also remained at home. Neither liked assemblies, preferring the peace of the library to the noise of a ballroom. And though Mrs. Bennet often tried to cajole her husband and son into escorting the ladies to events, they more often than not refused.
“How did I marry a lady so fond of society?” Mr. Bennet teased his wife with a twinkle in his eyes. “We are very much the opposite, my dear.”
“They say that opposite temperaments attract,” Mary would reply. “Perhaps Mama is just different enough from you to keep things lively.”
Elizabeth greeted Charlotte warmly. She looked very well that day, dressed in a new blue day gown that Elizabeth had never seen before. “You look lovely, Charlotte,” she said.
“I thank you, Eliza,” she replied. “Mama has convinced Papa to take me to town for the season. This is one of the new gowns we ordered. Good morning, Jane! What a pretty shawl!”
Jane, too, hugged their friend, thanking her for the compliment. The three ladies seated themselves on a settee by a window, far enough from their mothers that they could speak with privacy.
“Mr. Bingley paid you a good deal of attention, Jane,” Charlotte said. “What a triumph!”
“He danced the first with you, Charlotte.” Jane tapped their friend’s hand.
“But he danced two sets withyou,” Charlotte countered. “We all know where his attention will fall; you are quite the prettiest girl he will ever meet, with a gentle temperament, too.”
“Mr. Bingley has been to town. Surely, he has seen other ladies that surpass my physical features.”
“They may be lovelier in looks, but I doubt he has ever encountered a lady whose inner goodness is a match for her outward appearance,” Elizabeth insisted. “You, the golden-haired goddess, make us all appear inferior by comparison. Oh, you cannot deny it, my dear sister. I, for example, am far too judgmental to ever have your goodness.”
Charlotte and Elizabeth teased Jane a bit more before the subject turned to Mr. Darcy. “What do you think of Mr. Bingley’s friend, Eliza? He watched you a great deal.” Charlotte raised an eyebrow appraisingly. “I have never seen a more handsome man.”
“Yes, he is very well favored. And so tall! His towering height makes me seem more diminutive than ever. And as for his attention, I am certain you are imagining things,” Elizabeth demurred. “He watched the dancers and the other guests. That is all.”
“He was kind enough to dance with Miss Bates,” Jane observed. “I do not recall the last time she stood up for a set. The smiles his attention prompted were the most genuine I have seen in some time.”
Yes, Elizabeth had noted his patience with the spinster. Miss Bates’s father had been a solicitor in London before he died. After his passing some ten years ago, she had been shipped to Hertfordshire and was now dependent on the goodwill of a relation. Her aunt, Mrs. Norris, was a hard, bitter woman, who hardly embodied generosity. No effort had ever been made to secure a match for her niece.
