“It said nothing of the sort. Besides, that line sounds very much like Shakespeare.” Jane sniffed in mock hauteur, then winked. “No, the bard’s poetry is far superior to Mr. Wilson’s.”
Elizabeth laughed with her sisters, remembering the besotted gentleman who had once wished to court Jane. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet had refused him, of course—Jane had been only fifteen at the time. Still, her sister kept the insipid poem to remind her that a poorly written verse could starve any budding affection.
“There you are!” Charlotte looped her arm through Elizabeth’s and drew her aside. “Can you believe the crush? I tried to convince my father to limit the guest list, but you know how he is.”
“Is there a room on this floor that is not bursting?” Elizabeth asked, fanning herself vigorously.
“Only Papa’s study. The servants have opened the other rooms. Papa means to move the furniture in the drawing room for dancing after dinner. There are cards in the parlor, and refreshments will be served in the music room.” Charlotte shook her head. “He simply had to invite the officers.”
“I noted the plethora of red coats. Mrs. Phillips said they are to be quartered in Meryton for the winter.” Elizabeth glanced around the room. Everywhere she looked, another soldier sauntered by.
“It is true. The variety in our little society will be welcome. However, I believe caution is necessary. One cannot be too careful with strangers in our midst.”
She nodded in agreement. “Trust you to be sensible, dearest Charlotte,” she teased. “Let us hope that all ladies have the same intelligence.”
“I have already spoken to my mother about curbing Maria’s freedom,” her friend confessed. “My sister is a silly flirt. I worry she will end up in a bad way if no one is watching her.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I am thankful every day that my parents have kept Kitty and Lydia at home. They are too young to be out.”
“Is Thomas here tonight?” Charlotte asked after a brief pause. “I understood from my father that he had returned from university, yet I have not seen him at all.”
“Both Bennet gentlemen are here,” Elizabeth confirmed. “Mama cajoled and made them feel guilty for abandoning us until they agreed to attend. Thomas hates society as much as Papa, despite being gregarious and friendly.”
“It is a curious combination.” Charlotte’s gaze wandered. Elizabeth watched her friend, wondering for what—or for whom—she searched.
“The Netherfield gentlemen are here,” she said, nodding to the doorway. Elizabeth had already noticed them.
“Mr. Darcy looks as stern as he did at the assembly,” she observed.
“And Mr. Bingley appears as pleased as ever to be in company. What a pair they make! How do you suppose two such disparate characters became friends?”
“I thought character sketches were my purview, dear Charlotte.” Elizabeth swatted her friend playfully, and they laughed.
The announcement of dinner prompted the pair to link arms and move into the dining room. Extra tables had been set up, filling the room to capacity. Charlotte and Elizabeth found seats near the end of one table, relieved that no one had assigned places for the evening.
After three courses, the ladies removed to the drawing room. Lady Lucas called for the pianoforte to be opened and begged Mary to play for them. “It has been some time since we heard you,” their hostess said imploringly. “Since you are by far the most accomplished lady here, it would be a pleasure to see you perform.”
Mary was, indeed, a very accomplished pianist. Papa had indulged her desire to learn, hiring masters when she was only ten. Now, her playing surpassed that of all the other ladies in and around Meryton, Elizabeth included. She had far too many interests to dedicate the time to become truly proficient.
Mary obliged them, playing two pieces before ceding the instrument to another lady. Elizabeth played at Charlotte’s urging, choosing a simple tune she knew she could perform well.
The gentlemen soon rejoined the ladies, and Sir William called for assistance in moving the furniture and rolling up the carpets. “It is a perfect night for dancing,” he declared. “Miss Mary has agreed to further indulge us with a few lively tunes.”
Mary did not like to dance and preferred to remain behind the instrument. “It is not that dancing is not enjoyable,” she tried to explain, “but I find it terribly difficult to make my feet keep time with the music. It is easier to do only one at a time.”
Elizabeth remained with Charlotte as couples formed a line down the center of the room. Those who did not wish to dance either sat along the edges or made their way to the parlor for cards. Mary began to play a reel, and the dancing commenced.
“I believe I shall go for some punch,” Elizabeth told Charlotte over the din. Her friend nodded. She moved around the perimeter of the room, dodging dancers and seated guests. It was with great relief that she reached the door.
“Miss Eliza!” Sir William called. “Why are you not dancing? See, here is Mr. Darcy. I would wager he is willing to stand up with you. The pair of you looked lovely at the assembly.”
“I did not come this way to beg a partner,” she protested. “I am merely in need of refreshment.”
“Then allow me to accompany you,” Mr. Darcy offered. He regarded her steadily, his gaze roving across her face before he looked directly into her eyes. “I, too, am parched.”
“Capital, capital,” Sir William said. “Well, I shall just return to the card room.” He moved away in search of another guest to engage in conversation.
“Shall we?” Mr. Darcy gestured toward the room where a cool beverage awaited. Elizabeth nodded and preceded him inside. He secured a glass of punch for each of them, and they stepped away from the table. This room held fewer people and was, therefore, far more agreeable.
