Page 1 of Darcy in Distress (Pride and Prejudice Variation #17)
Assembly Hall in Meryton
Elizabeth Bennet smiled at her close friend, Miss Charlotte Lucas, and said, “Come, my dear friend, you must give me your latest knowledge about Mr. Bingley and his party from London. Do you know how many gentlemen and ladies we can expect for this evening’s assembly?”
Charlotte chuckled and shook her head. “Indeed, Eliza, I truly do not know. The last I heard, Mr. Bingley will be accompanied by his five sisters and a cousin, though I have no knowledge as to whether the cousin is a gentleman or a lady.”
“’Tis far too many ladies,” Elizabeth responded with a comical twist of her lips. “There are not enough gentlemen already without adding five or six more potential female partners to the mix.”
“I hope Mr. Bingley will make up in his person and character for such discourtesy as having five sisters.”
“Well as to that, you are entirely correct. We are indeed blessed to have a wealthy, eligible, single gentleman now installed at Netherfield Hall; I hereby forgive him for having five sisters, or ten, or even twenty, so long as he graces us with his august presence before the end of the night.”
There was a sudden flurry at the entrance to the hall as several newcomers entered, and Charlotte turned her head and said, “I believe that is Mr. Bingley and his party now! Mr. Bingley is the one in the blue coat, and there are three more gentlemen and only one lady!”
Elizabeth laughed and declared, “I like him already, my dear Charlotte, but come, I see your brother approaching, and I promised him the first dance.”
Charlotte watched wistfully as her friend departed; she was seven and twenty years of age, plain, and poor, and she was rapidly dwindling into an old maid.
She did not fault Elizabeth for being handsome, intelligent, and charming, but she wished that some man would gaze upon her with the admiration she saw in her own brother’s face as he looked down upon her friend.
/
Fitzwilliam Darcy, master of the great estate of Pemberley in Derbyshire, reluctantly followed his friends into the large room where an assembly was in progress.
He ought not to be here, he knew that. He should be back in Netherfield Park ensuring that his beloved mother and sister were settling in well.
It was not fair to the people of this little town for him to intrude upon them so; they did not know that his very name was the subject of scandal and gossip in the great houses of London.
He was tainted by his blood; his father had left his wife and children in anguish, and now his uncle, the Earl of Matlock, sought to destroy the fragile bonds which were welding the Darcy family back together again.
“Darcy?” Bingley asked softly. “Are you coming?”
Darcy grimaced as he observed a stout man of some fifty years, his countenance alight with welcome, waiting a few yards away.
“Mrs. Hurst,” Darcy said hastily to the only female member of the party, “might I have the honor of this dance?”
Mrs. Louisa Hurst smiled sympathetically and nodded. “Of course, Mr. Darcy.”
He grasped her hand and bestowed a grateful look upon the lady. He was thankful that Bingley and his married sister and her husband had welcomed the Darcys with open arms, even in the midst of dishonor and turmoil. He led her out to the dance floor as the music struck up for the next dance.
/
“Charlotte!” her father’s voice said heartily from her left. “Please allow me to introduce Mr. Bingley and his party.”
Charlotte turned and curtsied toward the group, which was composed only of three gentlemen since the tallest of them all, a dark haired, exceptionally handsome man, was leading out the lone woman of their party to the dance floor.
“Charlotte, Mr. Bingley, Mr. Hurst, and Mr. Wickham. Gentlemen, my elder daughter Charlotte.”
“Good evening, sirs,” Charlotte said politely. “It is wonderful to meet you all.”
“It is our pleasure to be here,” Mr. Bingley returned, a smile filling his handsome and cheerful face. “Miss Lucas, might I have the pleasure of the next dance?”
Charlotte nodded and held out her hand, “I would be honored.”
/
Elizabeth had been acquainted with Samuel Lucas since they were both children. She knew he was passionate about hunting and horses, and thus she was able to keep up an inconsequential conversation through their time together while also observing Mr. Bingley and his party.
The new master of Netherfield had invited Charlotte Lucas to dance, which Elizabeth approved of tremendously. She knew that her friend sat out many dances because gentlemen were scarce and Charlotte was not pretty, though she was sensible, intelligent and kind.
Of the four other newcomers, one was a finely dressed, pretty woman of some five and twenty years, another a plump man with a rubicund complexion, and the remaining two men were a startling contrast in male beauty.
The one dancing with the lady of his party was tall, dark, and grim while the other gentleman, who was currently circling around Charlotte’s younger sister, Maria, was of medium height, blond, blue-eyed, and wore a winsome smile on his fair countenance.
Elizabeth chuckled aloud at her mother’s likely response to this deluge of handsome male humanity at the assembly, though of course it remained to be seen whether the Mr. Bingley’s companions were single and wealthy; both were vitally important to Mrs. Bennet of Longbourn, who was most eager to find rich men as husbands for her five poorly-dowered daughters.
/
George Wickham looked down happily at his partner.
He had been working hard for many weeks and, as a friendly soul, was delighted to spend a pleasant evening dancing with comely young ladies.
His current partner was one of five Bennet daughters, four of whom had inherited their mother’s considerable beauty.
“I do enjoy London very much, Miss Elizabeth,” he said cheerfully, “but the country has its own pleasures. Do you visit London often?”
“I generally visit my uncle and aunt in Gracechurch Street at least once a year,” Elizabeth answered as her feet glided through the familiar steps of the cotillion. “I enjoy London, though I love my home as well.”
“I understand completely,” Wickham said heartily. “My childhood home lies in Derbyshire, on the great estate of Pemberley, and I always feel at peace there, though I relish traveling to other places as well.”
Elizabeth twirled in place and asked, “Pemberley? Is it a large estate?”
“A very large estate, yes, whose owner is propping up the wall of your assembly room even now. ”
Elizabeth followed her companion’s glance toward the dark haired, handsome gentleman and lifted an inquiring eyebrow. “I assume he is a friend of Mr. Bingley’s?”
Wickham nodded and said, “Yes, that is Mr. Darcy, master of Pemberley, whom I am honored to call my friend as well. We grew up together, you see, though I was but the son of the steward and he the heir of the estate. He has been very kind to me.”
Elizabeth cast another long stare at the gentleman and turned her attention back to her partner. “He has a very fine figure, Mr. Wickham, though he is not quite as handsome as you are.”
Wickham managed a slight bow in the midst of their rotation around one another and said, “Why thank you, Miss Elizabeth; most ladies find my friend more appealing.”
“No doubt due to his wealth?” Elizabeth inquired archly. “Does that explain his disinclination to dance with any of the local ladies? I daresay he is used to being feted and flattered and fawned over at the parties in London.”
A shadow crossed Mr. Wickham’s face, and he shook his head. “No, Miss Elizabeth, my friend is quite a ... a humble personage, truly. I suspect he is not asking any of the fine ladies to dance because he is not certain that he is an acceptable partner for such beautiful young women.”
Elizabeth curtsied as the dance came to an end, and she smiled up into Wickham’s face. “I am certain your friend is a most acceptable partner, at least so long as he does not trip over his toes or worse yet, mine.”
“He is quite an accomplished dancer,” Wickham assured her. “Might I introduce him to you?”
“Certainly!”
Lady and gentleman walked in perfect amity toward Darcy, only to realize that Mr. Bingley, the new master of nearby Netherfield Hall, had similar thoughts.
“Come, Darcy,” he insisted from his position next to his taller friend, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.”
The tall master of Pemberley ducked his head and murmured something too quietly for Elizabeth to hear, and Bingley responded indignantly, “Nonsense, my friend, nonsense. You are not making an offer of marriage, but merely asking...”
He broke off as Wickham arrived with Elizabeth at his side.
The lady considered the unknown gentleman with interest; now that he was standing directly in front of her, she realized that he was even more handsome than she had discerned from across the room, blessed with height, wavy black hair, a tall, muscular form, and dark brown eyes which at the moment were filled with worry.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Wickham said, “may I please introduce you to my friend, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. Darcy, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
The lady curtsied and the man bowed before saying hesitantly, “Might I solicit your hand for the next dance, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Certainly, Mr. Darcy.”
/
“Is this your first journey to Hertfordshire, Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth asked courteously as the pair twirled in a country dance.
“I have never stayed in Hertfordshire,” Darcy responded, “though I have ridden through it on occasion. It seems a pleasant area.”
“It is,” Elizabeth agreed.
Silence fell again as Elizabeth considered her partner.
He was rich, along with being an excellent dancer.
It was most peculiar that the gentleman seemed so uncertain of himself.
Perhaps he was shy? Elizabeth enjoyed analyzing the characters of new acquaintances, and it seemed that Mr. Darcy would prove an interesting study.
“Mr. Wickham tells me that you have an estate in Derbyshire,” she said a few minutes later. If the poor man was bashful, she would do her best to give him easy conversational topics.
“I do, yes,” Darcy answered, and lapsed into silence again.
Elizabeth suppressed an irritated groan. Pulling conversation out of this man was like trying to squeeze blood from a turnip.
“What is the geology like, sir?” she tried. “I enjoy rocks and mountains and hills and forests.”
The man’s gloomy countenance lightened a little at this, and he finally managed to speak more than a few words. “It is very different from here in Hertfordshire, Miss Elizabeth. My estate is not far from the Peak District, which is renowned for its mountains, rivers, and gorges.”
“It sounds delightful,” Elizabeth said with an encouraging smile. “Is much of your estate forested?”
“Approximately half of the demesne is covered with trees... ”
George Wickham, who was dancing with Miss Kitty Bennet, relaxed as he and his partner swirled by Darcy and Miss Elizabeth. It seemed that the lady had managed to entice Darcy to speak, which was encouraging.
He sighed inwardly as he looked down at his fair partner. His poor friend had indeed suffered these last months, and Wickham hoped that here in Hertfordshire, Darcy would find both rest and friendship in the kindly locals.