Page 1 of Five Gentlemen at Netherfield (Pride and Prejudice Variations)

Assembly Room

Meryton

Elizabeth Bennet sat down on a chair with a sigh of relief. Her partner for the first set of dances, Mr. Simon Lucas, smiled and said, “Might I fetch a lemonade for you both?”

Elizabeth and her friend Charlotte Lucas nodded, and Simon grinned and departed in search of refreshments.

Elizabeth fanned herself and said, “Is it warmer in here than usual?”

“I think not,” Charlotte replied, “but I noticed that your dance was more vigorous than usual as you were trying to keep up with Simon’s steps.”

Elizabeth chuckled. “He is improving.”

Charlotte cast her eyes heavenward and said, “I know, but rather slowly, and he is only just eighteen. Thank you for dancing with him.”

“It was my pleasure,” Elizabeth said warmly and smiled at Simon as he returned with two glasses of lemonade, which he handed over with a bow before hurrying off in search of a partner for the next dance.

“Have you heard anything more about the party from Netherfield?” Charlotte asked.

Elizabeth took a sip of deliciously cool lemonade and said, “Nothing more than you have, that Mr. Bingley intends to bring seven gentlemen and twelve ladies tonight.”

“This morning I heard that there were five sisters and a male cousin.”

“Or perhaps Mr. Bingley will not come at all,” Elizabeth said with a shrug. “It will greatly disappoint the matrons of the area, including our mothers, but I daresay we will enjoy ourselves very well, nonetheless.”

“I am certain we will,” Charlotte agreed, and for a few minutes, the pair watched in companionable silence until the next set of dances began, and Mary Bennet, the third of the Bennet daughters, swirled by with Jonas Mackley as her partner.

“How is Mary doing?” Charlotte asked.

Elizabeth glanced at her friend and then back at the dance floor. “She is doing well enough, I think. The last few months have obviously been most peculiar.”

Another moment passed, and then Charlotte inquired softly, “Do you resent your aunt’s decision to make Mary her primary heiress?”

Elizabeth turned in surprise. “No, of course not! Aunt Amelia’s money was her own, and in any case, the rest of us were not ignored. A legacy of five thousand pounds is no small thing!”

“Compared to Mary’s inheritance, it is,” Charlotte said drily.

Elizabeth looked around carefully and, after ensuring that no one was close enough to overhear, said, “Poor Mary has been much neglected as she is the only one of us who did not inherit our mother’s beauty, and I think it is wonderful that our aunt bestowed a large fortune on her.

Furthermore, Mary is a sensible creature, and will not spend recklessly even if she could, which she cannot.

All of our money is tied up tightly until we are each five and twenty, with my uncle Gardiner and my uncle Phillips as trustees. ”

“Not Mr. Bennet?”

Elizabeth sighed and inched a little closer still. “Father has never been inclined to rein in my mother’s desire for spending. Mamma very much would like us all to spend the interest from our money on frivolous items, and thus it is best that our uncles are overseeing our funds so carefully.”

“That was wise of your aunt,” Charlotte said approvingly and then turned toward the door as a great murmur spread throughout the room. “Eliza, I think that is Mr. Bingley and his party at the door now.”

Elizabeth turned curiously toward the door and then stood up along with her friend as their neighbors surged forward in their eagerness to observe the Netherfield party.

While she found such behavior amusing, she well understood why there was such enthusiasm on the part of the mothers and daughters in the area.

Thanks to the long war against the French, gentlemen were often in short supply, and eligible gentlemen were as rare as hen’s teeth.

Mr. Bingley, wealthy and reputedly handsome, was a great boon to those families in the area with marriageable daughters, and while the Bennet ladies were as of four months previously no longer paupers, Mrs. Bennet was still absolutely determined that her daughters marry as soon as possible.

“Pray excuse me, Elizabeth,” Charlotte said, and Elizabeth nodded and watched as the eldest Miss Lucas hurried over to be introduced to the party by her father, Sir William, who acted as master of ceremonies at the monthly Meryton assemblies.

Elizabeth took a few steps closer and began counting the newcomers.

There was a dark blonde individual who was likely Mr. Bingley, as Sir William Lucas seemed to know him.

Behind Mr. Bingley were two women, both reasonably young and handsome, both very well dressed in silks and feathers, and one was on the arm of another man, a portly individual of some thirty summers.

Behind this party were no fewer than four more gentlemen, one of them tall and handsome, one of them tall and ugly, one of them of medium height and pleasant, though not particularly good looking, and the last…

The last gentleman, Elizabeth thought with a chuckle, would doubtless impress young men like Simon Lucas, as he was dressed in a black coat and pants, with a bright red waistcoat, which was adorned with numerous seals and knobs and the like.

His neckcloth was highly starched and tied in a remarkably complicated fashion.

He showed every sign, in fact, of being a dandy, which was a rarity in this area.

“Lizzy, do come over here!” a voice cried out, and Elizabeth turned to see her mother beckoning from a few feet away.

She obeyed and found herself standing near her eager mother and four sisters as the Netherfield party continued to circulate around the room, though Mr. Bingley had asked Charlotte Lucas to dance and was now on the floor with her, and the tallest and most handsome of the gentlemen was currently partnered with the younger lady from Netherfield Hall.

“So many gentlemen,” Lydia, the youngest Miss Bennet, murmured. “Oh, Mamma, I hope none of them are married!”

“Hush, Lydia,” Elizabeth ordered softly just as Sir William Lucas walked up with the remaining strangers in tow.

“Mrs. Bennet, Misses Bennet,” Sir William said, “may I please introduce you to Mrs. Hurst, Lord Stanton, Sir Quinton Marston, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Mr. Hurst. Lady and gentlemen, Mrs. Bennet, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, Miss Kitty, and Miss Lydia.”

The appropriate bows and curtsies followed, and Lord Stanton, the man with the seals and fobs, said to Jane, “Might I have the honor of the third set, Miss Bennet?”

“Thank you, I would be honored,” Jane replied, blushing prettily.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said, “may I have your third set?”

“Of course,” Elizabeth agreed with a smile.

Sir Quinton asked for Mary’s third set, which she accepted, and Sir William said, “We have yet a few more minutes until the third set commences. Would you care to meet more of my neighbors?”

There were murmurs of approbation from some, if not all, of the Netherfield party, and they moved on toward Mrs. Long and her two nieces.

“My dear girls,” Mrs. Bennet gushed, although thankfully after the strangers had moved beyond earshot, “how wonderful that you older three have been asked to dance. Kitty and Lydia, I am certain you will also have an opportunity later in the night, even if you are the youngest!”

“I may be the youngest, but I am the tallest!” Lydia declared confidently.

***

Third Set

Colonel Fitzwilliam was neither tall nor short, neither handsome nor ugly, but he was an elegant dancer, and thus Elizabeth was well satisfied.

“I hope that you are enjoying your time here in Hertfordshire,” she said some minutes into the dance, and the colonel said, “I am indeed, Miss Elizabeth, thank you. It is a pleasure to be welcomed by the community with such enthusiasm.”

Elizabeth laughed, finished a figure, and then said, “You must know, sir, that your party is manna from heaven for the families in the area with daughters. There is a dearth of young men in this area, and we are overjoyed to have more partners with whom to dance.”

She and the colonel twirled through a few more movements, and then Fitzwilliam said, “I am well aware that the wars with the Corsican Tyrant have taken away many fine young men from every region of England.”

“That is very true. Have you served overseas, Colonel?”

“I have.”

“I am grateful for your service.”

“Thank you, Miss Elizabeth.”

They spun and stepped in perfect amity until the end of the set, clapped heartily with the other dancers, and then the colonel guided her off the dance floor. “Shall I fetch you a drink, Miss Elizabeth?”

“Oh thank you, but no. I see my mother over on that chair, and if you would be willing to...”

“Miss Elizabeth,” a male voice said, and she turned to observe Lord Stanton a few feet away with Jane on his arm. “Might I have the honor of the next dance?”

“Yes, thank you,” Elizabeth said cheerfully.

“Miss Bennet,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said immediately, “may I have your next dance?”

Jane blushed and said, “My apologies, but Mr. Bingley has already claimed that dance. I have the fifth available.”

The colonel bowed and said, “Thank you. I look forward to that very much.”

***

Fifteen minutes later

Fitzwilliam Darcy stood against a wall, his eyes fixed on the merry dancers on the floor in the middle of the room.

The scraping of the musicians upon their violins and the plunking of the provincial pianoforte grated on his nerves.

The ride from London had been pleasant but wearying, and he had been anticipating a quiet evening in the billiards room, enjoying a conversation with his friend Charles Bingley.

His surprise and displeasure had been great when he had dismounted from his black stallion, Phoenix, and greeted his host, only to be informed that he would instead be required to spend his evening surrounded by the plebeian locals of this little backwater.

The expectation of his attendance to this rustic little assembly had not been the only unpleasant surprise of Darcy’s evening.

Charles Bingley had invited him to stay at his newly rented estate at Netherfield in order to help him learn how to successfully manage an estate.

Bingley had, with his usual impetuosity, leased the first estate that caught his eye.

Thankfully, the situation could be far worse.

Though Netherfield seemed a trifle neglected, it was not too run down, and some little attention and money could easily restore the estate to its full potential.

Furthermore, it was conveniently only five and twenty miles from Town.

In any case, Bingley had only taken a year-long lease, and he could thus simply give up the estate if he proved unequal to its management.

When Bingley had first suggested that Darcy come visit for a time, the house party had consisted of merely Bingley, his two sisters, his brother-in-law Hurst, and Darcy.

Though Darcy did not relish time with either shrewish Miss Bingley or the less shrill but equally irritating Mrs. Hurst, the house party was acceptable.

Darcy had reckoned without Bingley’s natural gregarious friendliness and the guest list had grown substantially in the last days.

Bingley had encountered Darcy’s cousin, Richard Fitzwilliam, one afternoon at White’s.

The colonel had been sent home on furlough to recover from a musket ball to the upper arm, and while he had blessedly not lost his arm, he needed to rest and heal.

Bingley, delighted at the prospect of furthering his acquaintance with the amiable Fitzwilliam, had invited him after a mere half-hour of conversation.

Darcy had greeted this news with only slightly impaired equanimity. He enjoyed his cousin’s company.

He had been more dismayed when Viscount Stanton, Richard’s brother and the heir to the earldom, seized the opportunity to escape from London and accompany his brother Richard to Netherfield.

Darcy did not know whether Stanton was escaping debts or was merely tired of the often unpleasant air in London.

Then, Sir Quinton Marston had encountered Bingley at the Clarendon during a dinner, and Bingley had invited him along as well and been accepted! Darcy did not know Sir Quinton well, but he had always found him a genial and pleasant man, though he was a decade older than himself.

Bingley’s hospitable nature was all well and good, but Netherfield was now quite full of people, and full of distractions for Bingley, who would already be unenthused about the amount of work that was required to run an estate well.

“Darcy, wipe that grimace off your face and drink this ratafia. It is quite palatable.”

Darcy turned to find Colonel Fitzwilliam at his side, holding out a glass of amber liquid, and he accepted it with a nod of thanks. He took a cautious sip and then another before declaring. “You are definitely right, Cousin. It is good.”

“You need not sound so very surprised.”

Darcy frowned and said stiffly, “What have I done to fall under your disapprobation?”

The colonel wrinkled his nose and said, “You are standing around instead of dancing, and that is not courteous given that even with the addition of our party, there are more ladies than gentlemen.”

“I certainly shall not dance. You know how much I detest it unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable. Bingley’s sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room with whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up. ”

The colonel shrugged and said, “I believe that you are being far too fastidious, but it is no great matter as the rest of us gentlemen are willing to dance.”

Darcy turned his gaze on the dance floor and said, “I confess to some surprise that your brother and Sir Quinton are dancing. Surely there is danger that some of the local matrons and their daughters will get the wrong idea?”

Richard huffed and said, “You are making this far more complicated a matter than it is. My brother and Sir Quinton will not, of course, ask any young lady for more than one set, but this is an assembly in a charming village in the country. I am confident that none of the young ladies will expect more than a pleasant time with new acquaintances.”

“I hope you are right,” Darcy replied gloomily.