Elizabeth smiled faintly. “It would only be for a few hours. And then you might return to your book tomorrow with your conscience intact.”
He chuckled and looked down at the volume. “It is a very good book.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said, “but I believe Jane will look better tonight than words and paper.”
He glanced over at his eldest, who looked uncomfortable. “I daresay Mr. Bingley will be so taken with her beauty, he will introduce himself as opposed to waiting. No, there is no purpose for me there.”
“Papa,” she said quietly, taking a step closer, “this is not a trifling matter to Mama. Nor to the rest of us.”
“Nor is it to me,” he replied. “Which is precisely why I prefer to remain at home.”
Fanny wrung her hands. “But Mr. Bennet,whowill introduce the girls?”
Mr. Bennet did not even look at his wife, instead turning back towards the direction of his study. “I have full confidence in your abilities to orchestrate a social siege without my assistance.”
“Papa,” Elizabeth said once more, in her most reasonable voice, “it would cost you nothing but an hour. You could even return home and send the carriage back for us.”
He looked at her over his shoulder, not unkindly. “An hour is precisely what it would cost. And I find I value mine too dearly to trade it for the privilege of watching young men stumble over themselves in awe of your sister’s face and form.”
Elizabeth sighed but said nothing more.
Fanny threw up her hands. “It is a mercy I have any nerves left at all,” she cried. “One day, when we are destitute and friendless, then you will all see the error of ignoring my pleas!”
“Not I, for I shall be in my grave.” Mr. Bennet shrugged before disappearing from sight.
“Oh, Mr.Bennet!”
Mrs. Bennet stared after her husband, looking crestfallen. Elizabeth felt a rare twinge of sympathy for her mother.It cannot be easy, being treated by your partner in life with so little respect.
Straightening her shoulders, Mrs. Bennet turned and cast an appraising eye over her daughters. “Very well! Into the carriage, all of you. Lizzy, fetch your wrap. Jane, be careful of your hem. Mary,do notread at the assembly—it is not becoming. And Kitty, if you do not stop squabbling with Lydia, I shall make you stay behind and help Hill with the dishes!”
The girls obeyed, herded by years of experience into swift, half-chaotic movement.
Elizabeth closed her ledger, tied the ribbon around it, and slipped it into her writing drawer.
As the girls crowded out to the carriage, she lingered behind for a brief moment, glancing once toward the ledgers she had just left.
Just one night,she told herself.Let it be enough. Let this Mr. Bingley be everything that Mama hopes for Jane.
Then she turned and followed her family into the evening.
Chapter 10
The assembly room above the town hall had not changed in living memory. Its walls were a faded cream, the floors waxed smooth, and its tall windows always too drafty in winter and too warm in summer. But on nights such as this, when the fiddlers took their seats and the lamps were freshly lit, it could be almost grand.
Meryton may be a modest market town, thought Elizabeth as the Bennet carriage arrived,but on assembly nights, it dresses itself in borrowed splendor and pretends to be Bath.
Jane descended first, assisted by the footman, her rose-pink skirts settling gracefully around her. Mrs. Bennet followed with her usual fuss, then Kitty and Lydia—giggling before their slippers had even touched the stones—and finally Mary, who held a well-thumbed book of collected sermons as though it were a shield.
Elizabeth followed last, her mind far from things. She had left her tenant folio at home, but some question about barley tariffs had lingered in her head all afternoon, and she feared it would haunt her through at least the first two reels.
Inside, the hall was already half full. The musicians were tuning at the far end, and the Lucases had claimed one corner with strategic precision. Sir William beamed from his post nearthe refreshment table, where he held forth on the virtues of public assemblies to a pair of bored-looking militia officers.
It did not take long for Jane to draw attention.
Within moments of entering the room, she was approached by Mr. Goulding’s nephew, a newly arrived curate. Elizabeth stifled a giggle at her mother’s face; the matron appeared to be torn between encouraging Jane towards a prospective husband, or upset that she would not be available when the newcomers arrived.
Jane accepted the young man with a faint blush. Elizabeth moved her gaze from her sister to look around the room, which was already filled with familiar faces. The Kings had claimed their usual corner, Mrs. Long was parading her two nieces with feathered caps and anxious smiles, and Sir William was vigorously shaking hands with the vicar.
