“I am certain you will like Sir Edward, Darcy,” my friend interjected. “He is a gentlemanly, educated fellow, and his family are charming. Lady Gardiner is elegant and amiable, and his nieces delightful.”
“Yes, Charles, we have all heard your rhapsodies on Miss Bennet,” drawled his sister, rolling her eyes in a rather common fashion. “And next month you shall wax poetic over some other lady entirely, I am sure.”
Bingley had the grace to look rather abashed, but insisted that though his attention had often been caught by a pretty face and pleasing figure, he had never before met a lady of such sweetness, or whose opinions coincided so perfectly with his own. I was not concerned; all of the ladies who captured his heart were unique to him until they were not, and then they were swiftly forgotten. Sir Edward’s niece would surely be no different.
We were fortunate enough to encounter Sir Edward almost as soon as we entered the house, though not before Alvanley secured me for his daughter’s fifth set. Bingley performed the introductions to Sir Edward, Lady Gardiner, and the Miss Bennets. I paid little attention to the ladies beyond the necessary civilities, for I was most interested in the new darling of London Society. Even the Prince Regent was said to be an admirer of Sir Edward’s, which gave the man a certain cachet above even that which his patriotic actions and new title granted. He was well-dressed, well-spoken, and not at all coarse in his manner, at least during the few minutes of our initial meeting. Doing business with him would be no hardship at all, if this was how he continued to present himself. I secured his agreement to meet the following week, and was fortunate enough to be able to slip away while Miss Bingley was engaged in conversation with the man’s nieces, no doubt at her brother’s insistence.
I roamed the edges of the ballroom as I awaited my duty set with my host’s daughter, speaking with acquaintances when I chanced upon them and ensuring that Miss Bingley could not corner me. She was always prone to follow me through whatever company we shared, and as it appeared she had little acquaintance there, she had even less to distract her from her quest that evening. I had no desire to be seen with her on my arm—she had a regrettable tendency to claim it when I had not offered—thus it was important that I maintain an awareness of her whereabouts at all times.
By chance, I found a happy situation not far from the chairs set out for the chaperons and those ladies in want of a partner, where I was able to observe the company while largely screened by a tall plant. I remained there with my own thoughts, which primarily consisted of brooding over my young sister’s near ruin at the hands of a fortune hunter two months previous, through the first two sets and half of the third before Bingley sought me out there.
“Come, Darcy!” said he ebulliently. “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.”
I denied any interest in the activity, citing a lack of ladies with whom I was well-acquainted. He chided me for not wishing to dance with any and every lady present, claiming an unusual bounty of pretty girls. I complimented the beauty of his own partner for the set, his Miss Bennet, but could not be drawn to allow that any other lady in the room was worth my efforts. He was happy to speak on her perfections for a moment, but then insisted that I must dance with her sister, who was, he said, sitting nearby. I recalled little of the girl save that she was as dark as her beautiful sister was fair, and made it abundantly clear to my friend that she had not impressed me and I would not be requesting her hand for a set. At last, Bingley accepted my wishes and left me in peace. Catching sight of an old friend from Cambridge, I abandoned my refuge and moved to greet him.
CHAPTER3
ELIZABETH BENNET
“She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me. I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men.”
I heard every word, of course, during a break in the music, seated as I was not five feet away. It was all I could do not to burst out laughing. Such conceit! Such arrogance! When Mr Darcy was introduced to us earlier, I had been much taken with his handsome appearance, but it was now apparent that his manners and character did not reflect the near-perfection of his exterior. With relief, I saw him move off and allowed myself the softest of chuckles as I began to mentally compose a letter to my dear Papa, who would delight in the ridiculousness I had just witnessed.
When my aunt came to me shortly thereafter, I wasted no time in pulling her away to a private corner to relate the tale. Alas, it seemed Mr High and Mighty hails from the same corner of the kingdom as she, and she was too shocked that a Darcy of Pemberley could behave in such a manner to enjoy my story.
Jane’s next set was free and, while Mr Bingley fetched her a cup of punch, I gave my sister to know what had occurred, hoping that she would laugh with me.
“Oh, Lizzy, I am certain he could not have meant it, or intend to be overheard,” Jane said earnestly. “Such incivility could only be the result of some great strain or illness. Perhaps a sick headache.”
Dear, dear Jane. Always so unwilling to believe that anyone could have aught but the best of intentions. I love her for it, but I sometimes also want to shake her for it, and this was one of those times. “If he felt too unwell to dance, why not simply say as much?” I enquired with a huff. “It was hardly necessary to do otherwise.”
Jane sighed and gave me a stern, sad look which I knew to mean she thought I was being harsh for no reason. “People often behave uncharacteristically when ill,” she said firmly, and I shook my head and knew that I would not convince her.
Mr Bingley returned, thoughtfully bearing a cup for me as well, which I sipped as they spoke. I was beginning to wonder about Mr Bingley, amiable as he was—tonight was the first time we had encountered any of his intimates, and I had found both his sister and his friend greatly lacking in courtesy.
I danced the fifth with a Mr Lowry, who was quite pleasant despite his conversation being confined to his love of springer spaniels and the kennels he maintained at his father’s estate in Sussex. I like dogs and love to dance, so I enjoyed myself well enough. I caught sight of Mr Darcy once or twice, dancing at the head of the line with a blushing young lady who seemed better pleased with his company than he with hers. Bingley had engaged Jane for the supper set, while I had the pleasure of dancing with my uncle. We sat to the meal with my aunt and sister and the ever-present Mr Bingley, and made a merry party.
I did not think much of it when my partner failed to appear for the set which opened the dancing after supper; young men are not reliable creatures, and it was entirely possible he simply had not been able to locate me in the crush. My partner for the one following did not find me either, however, and I soon saw him moving down the dance with another young lady. I began to suspect that some mischief was afoot. To miss a set which had been promised was disappointing, but to seemingly be cast aside for a different partner was mortifying. Part of me wished to attempt to catch his eye as he moved down the dance, to perhaps discover from his response whether this had been a mistake or a choice. I certainly would have done just that in Meryton, but in this new society, among strangers, I did not feel I could. Instead, I pretended interest in a painting on the wall nearby, and attempted with moderate success not to squirm with embarrassment over having been so disregarded.
My aunt came to me as that set was ending. “Oh, my dear Lizzy,” said she in a low voice, pulling me to the side for privacy—in truth, to the very spot from which Mr Darcy had pronounced me unworthy of his notice. “I am afraid you were not the only one to overhear Mr Darcy’s comments. The Darcys are very influential...” She trailed off, appearing to search for words.
“And on the careless word of an important man, I am no longer seen as an adequate dance partner, is that it? You need mince no words, for I have already sat out two sets that were spoken for.” I turned my dance card over, the names scrawled thereupon attesting to the accuracy of my recollection. My cheeks grew warm as I caught sight of the entries for the next sets and understood that it was unlikely those gentlemen would appear to claim me, either.
My dear aunt’s face was a study in chagrin. “It would seem so. We may depart early, if that is your wish.”
My chin came up; it is not in my nature to be cast down by the foolishness of others. “There are only two sets remaining. Let Jane enjoy herself, and let no one think I have been driven away by that haughty man.”
“I have been standing too much this evening, Lizzy, but I see a pair of chairs just over there. Shall you keep me company?”
Her obfuscation was laughably poor, but I loved her all the more for the generous impulse which inspired it. “I can think of nothing I would like better. No doubt this will all be forgot in a day or two.” I tried to believe that it would be so, and resolutely turned my attention to the pleasure of my dear aunt’s company.
CHAPTER4
FITZWILLIAM DARCY
Several days later, I was surprised by a call from Bingley just after my breakfast, at an hour at which I had rarely known him to be awake, much less active. Alarmed, I allowed my butler to show him into my study, where I had only just begun to attend to the day’s business.
My friend entered with an air of great agitation, and having sat, he fidgeted for a moment before fixing me with a look of such pronounced disapproval that I believe I physically recoiled.
