Page 64 of Conundrums & Coincidences

Then there was the matter of preparing the house for Mrs Darcy’s arrival. Mrs Reynolds was a godsend, as always; but, needing everything to be as perfect as possible, Darcy wanted to oversee the refurbishment of the mistress’s apartments and nursery himself. A thrill shot through him at the very thought of Elizabeth in those rooms.

Rubbing his forehead, he banished those images and reviewed details of his current project and was confident nothing had been overlooked. Even the sky had cooperated. The night was clear, and guests would be guided to and from the venue by the light of a full moon. But after days of preparation, he had gained a greater appreciation for the time and effort stage-managers put into theatrical productions.

“So remember, Bingley,” Darcy had said to his friend hours ago, “the first with Miss Jane Bennet, the two third with Miss Maria Lucas, the two fourth with one of Mrs Long’s nieces, the two fifth with Miss Jane Bennet, the two sixth with my Miss Bennet, and Le Boulanger with⁠—”

“Yes, yes, Darcy! I remember!”

Once Jonesby had made the final touches to his cravat, Darcy inspected his valet’s handiwork in the mirror and nodded his thanks. When he arrived downstairs at half past the hour, six of the Netherfield party stood waiting in the vestibule, but there was no sign of Miss Bingley.

“Georgiana, Hadley, Mrs Annesley, and I shall go ahead in my carriage and await you outside the inn. Bingley, kindly ensure your sister does not cause a delay. We must make an entrance together, as we did on the fifteenth of October.”

Reassembled outside Meryton’s best—and one and only—inn, they paired up as arranged: Mrs Annesley on Bingley’s arm, Georgiana on Darcy’s, and Mrs Hurst on her husband’s, leaving Miss Bingley to be escorted by Hadley. Together they climbed the stairs and entered the hired assembly room, for which Darcy had paid handsomely.

In general circulation within five minutes of their arrival was a report of his being in desperate need of a wife. Want, not need. Well, yes, need.

The Master of Ceremonies beckoned them over. Clapping while the musicians tuned their instruments, Sir William Lucas said, “Capital, capital! What a charming amusement assemblies are for young people, eh, Mr Darcy?”

“Certainly, Sir William. There is, after all, nothing like dancing. It is one of the first refinements of polished societies.”

Miss Bingley sneered. “Then one should have stayed in London, where there is polished society.” She and the Hursts were much as they had been in the autumn, and Georgiana and Hadley seemed duly shocked at their supercilious remarks.

Disregarding Miss Bingley and her fault-finding, Darcy nodded to Sir William. “I hope to prove tonight that I am adept in the science of dance.” And off he went to do so.

In passing a gaggle of females frantically fanning their faces, he heard them complimenting his countenance and stature. “And he has such an alluring, inviting smile.”

Egad! Darcy cringed, and the tips of his ears reddened. Glancing down at Georgiana, whom he was shepherding about the room, he noticed the pretty blush upon her cheeks and the grin she tried to subdue.

Needing to be on his very best behaviour, he walked about the hall reacquainting himself with all the principal people and introducing his sister, her companion, and Hadley and making a valiant attempt to be amiable, mannerly, very easily pleased, and not above his company. It was quite exhausting.

And if all that was not enervating enough, there was the dancing. Georgiana and Mrs Annesley would not be partaking, but, between the three of them, Darcy, Bingley, and Hadley danced almost every dance.

While his friends stood up with local young ladies, Darcy danced with Elizabeth, her sisters, Miss Bingley, and Mrs Hurst. His good character was decided, and everyone hoped he would return to Meryton again and again, with or without a wife.

During his first set with Elizabeth, she said to him, “Should I be worried or happy, Mr Darcy, that you, my future husband, can be so secretive and scheming? I thought Jane had gone quite mad this evening when she rooted round the wardrobe, pulled out this old gown, and insisted I wear it to an assembly about which I had no knowledge. Although, come to think of it, of late you have been acting suspiciously.”

“Acting? Whatever do you mean?”

“Yes, acting. You belong on stage, sir, as I believe I told you at Oakwood.”

“Oakwood? What is Oakwood? I have no notion of what you speak, madam.” Darcy smiled and put his whole heart into it. I am enjoying this a bit too much, I think.

Halfway through the night, he was informed that—due to the trampling of her toes by an inept buffoon—Elizabeth had been obliged to sit down awhile, which, although terribly unfortunate for her, was fortuitous for him.

He fetched Bingley, and ensuring they stood close enough for Elizabeth to overhear a conversation between them, Darcy prodded his friend.

In a decidedly stiff, monotonous tone, Bingley recited, “Come, Darcy, I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.”

Good grief. Has he never acted before? Put some emotion into it, man!

“I certainly shall not.” Darcy feigned a groan. “My feet are killing me. Have you not noticed how many times I have danced thus far? Of course, at such an assembly as this, with ladies outnumbering gentlemen, it would be insupportable not to do so. Besides, it would be unwise of me to stand up with someone a second time, lest my intention be marriage. Gallantry is expected of a gentleman but is often construed as flirtation.”

“Upon my honour, Darcy. I never danced with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening.” Bingley’s intonation had improved. “And there are at least half a dozen of them who are uncommonly pretty.”

“Indeed there are many uncommonly charming and attractive young ladies here, and you just danced with one of the handsomest.”

“Oh, yes! Miss Jane Bennet is the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld!” Bingley’s vocal inflections were masterful. “If I am very fortunate, I shall marry her some day! Oh, but look. There is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you. She is very pretty and, I dare say, very agreeable. Why not ask her to stand up with you again?”

“A second time! Why, I might as well announce to the entire world that I ardently admire and love the lady and have chosen her as my bride. As you well know, Fitzwilliam Darcy does not dance twice with any woman at any ball. By the bye, which sister did you mean?” Turning round, Darcy looked fixedly at Elizabeth, never withdrawing his gaze. “By Jove, Bingley, thank you for bringing that exquisite creature to my attention. What fine eyes she has!” He lowered his voice a mite. “You know how discriminating I can be. She, however, is handsome enough to tempt me.” His eyes caressed her.