Page 36 of London Holiday (Sweet Escapes Collection #2)

Chapter thirty-six

E lizabeth would much rather have stayed home. Nothing could repay her for the discomfort of sitting on the edge of the room all evening, shunned by all the gentlemen and openly ridiculed by the other ladies. “Jane,” she whispered, “I am going to experience a headache in a moment.”

“ Lizzy,” cautioned her sister, “everyone will know it is a fraud. You would do better to smile and pretend that you prefer sitting out to dancing.”

“If we are not asked to dance for the next set, Mama is going to find some poor waiter or musician and drag him over to us by his ear. Do you truly think that could be less mortifying than pretending to have a headache?”

Jane said nothing, but the artificial smile on her face appeared wooden as she nodded in the direction of Maria Lucas. The Lucas family was one of the few who still addressed them freely, but this evening, Charlotte and Maria had been much in demand as dance partners, while the formerly favoured Bennet girls sat in Charlotte’s usual place.

“I do not mind being passed over tonight, Lizzy,” Jane decided with hollow optimism, “for look how happy Charlotte is! I think the new rector has taken a fancy to her. He has asked for a second set.” There was a softening around Jane’s eyes, and she continued to smile out on the dancing populace of Meryton. It seemed everyone, simply everyone was in attendance, and all having a merry time of it… save for themselves .

“Where is this mythical new neighbour of ours?” Elizabeth wondered. “I thought we had depended upon his vaunted good humour and his ignorance of our family’s circumstances, not to mention your great beauty, to purchase us at least one dance this evening.”

“When I called on Charlotte earlier today, Sir William assured us all that he is planning to come and that he is bringing a guest. This friend is only lately arrived, I understand—a passing wealthy gentleman, but no one seems to know much of him yet. There is great hope in general that he also might prove to be unmarried. You must imagine Lady Lucas’ delight at hearing of him.”

“And Mama’s, if she has heard. Her nerves will not withstand the evening.”

Jane cast a watchful eye over to their mother, whose fluttering fan concealed excited whispers traded with that very neighbour. “I believe she already knows.”

Little more was said on the subject of Mrs Bennet and her nerves, however vexing the topic might be to the conversants, for shortly there arose from the general assembly a low murmur of expectation and curiosity. Some new arrivals had graced the entrance, and it required no great powers of discernment to conclude that the newcomers must, indeed, be this very Mr Bingley’s party.

“Lizzy, can you see his face?”

Elizabeth shook her head, leaning slightly to peer through a parting in the line of dancers. Indeed, there was some disturbance near the door, but from their seats at the back of the room, only Sir William’s broad shoulders could be seen as he made the first general introductions. Elizabeth felt her sister drawing a shaky breath and sitting slightly taller beside her, her trembling hands smoothing the front of her gown.

Dearest Jane! It was not for their mother’s sake alone that she wished to please this gentleman, but also that she had heard it said what an affable and pleasant young man he was. Jane had confided to her sister that her dearest wish was to meet an amiable gentleman who might find her worthy of notice and whose regard she could return. She could then, she hoped, give happiness to all her family, and not least to her favourite sister.

Elizabeth watched her with some sadness. Sweet, sensible Jane deserved so much better than the disappointment which was to be theirs this evening! There seemed no way to tell her that their family was beyond recovery.

Darcy tugged surreptitiously at the inseams of his formal jacket and strained his stiffening neck. What the devil was he doing here? She would not be here, surely! Bingley had assured him that this assembly would be well attended by all in Meryton, but the price of the tickets alone could be prohibitive for his Elizabeth’s family, with five daughters to dress.

Far better that he should have started in the morning by casually paying his custom to the various shops in town, perhaps beginning with Mr Philips, the attorney, and learning which business might be under the management of Mr Bennet. Yet how was he to do that, if he was expected to spend half the night prancing about a dilapidated Hall with the unpedigreed gentry of the county? There was no help for it. Nearly as soon as they entered the door, a portly older gentleman, who seemed to think a great deal of the brass medal upon his chest, stopped their party and bowed most humbly.

“Mr Bingley, it is an honour and a pleasure to see you attending our humble assembly. I do hope our little event adheres to your expectations and you find nothing which does not please.”

Bingley seemed to be floating three inches above the ground as he took in the atmosphere. Nothing would dampen his spirits on such an occasion, and Darcy had the mortification of seeing a grown man’s eyes sparkle when they met pale muslin and coiled tresses everywhere they turned. He was a man ready to be charmed, and he had found a willing market. Darcy nearly left the building, but Bingley was already answering.

“Splendid, Sir William, splendid! Oh, Sir William Lucas, you have met my sister Mrs Hurst and her husband Mr Hurst, as well as my younger sister, Miss Caroline Bingley. Allow me also to present my good friend Mr Darcy from Pemberley, in Derbyshire.”

Though he had probably never heard of the place, Sir William’s eyes widened in appreciation for the impressive introduction, and he bowed deeply. “Mr Darcy, what a great honour it is, sir! May I present my daughters; Miss Maria here, and my eldest, Charlotte, is dancing over there.”

Bingley smiled at the younger girl and dutifully offered her his arm for the present set. Darcy, however, found himself staring across the room at the elder. Charlotte ? Had Elizabeth not mentioned that was the name of her dear friend? How many Charlottes could live in such a village as Meryton? He watched the young lady and her plain-faced partner with interest.

“Indeed,” Caroline Bingley sniffed in disdain after leaving her wrap at the door, “I am abominably sorry we came. Why, look at the gowns of these third-rate ladies, and the attire of the ‘gentlemen!’ Pray assure me I must not stand up with any farmers with soiled fingernails.” She stood beside Darcy now, her lip curled in fashionable distaste as she surveyed the room.

“Even the cloak room was a disgrace,” she sniffed. “Why, it is full of nothing but rumour and ill-bred gossip! I have no doubts of rodents as well.”

Darcy’s eyes still roved the room, as he paid Miss Bingley as little notice as possible. “Cloakrooms in London are rife with malicious talk. I daresay, perhaps they have set the example.”

“Oh, but you have never heard the like of this backward country set! It must prove what a simple, unsophisticated little village this is. Why, the whole talk is of how some young chit, a Miss Bennet was her name, went off one evening for amusement and was found the next morning at a public-house, playing cards. They say she had been at it all night and had a pile of shillings and three impoverished companions to her credit.”

Darcy jerked to face her. “A Miss Bennet, did you say?”

“Oh! You must have heard the same report, I see. She is perfectly ruined, of course, and her sisters with her.”

“Her sisters?” Darcy’s chest was quaking in agitation, and his fists clenched.

“Oh, indeed! Do you remember what I said of rodents, Mr Darcy? Apparently they breed in Hertfordshire. Five daughters, and no sons at all! I have heard even that one of this strumpet’s elder sisters was later found in some disgrace of her own, but of course, I could not dignify the report by feigning interest enough to enquire further. But really, playing cards at a public house, all night with strange men! Can you fancy it?”

An elder sister disgraced? His head shook in denial. Had some report of Elizabeth already been spread about her home village? He must find her, and rapidly! Darcy gazed mutely about the room until he found a face which might answer for his present wants. Ladies dancing, ladies sitting on the edge of the room with fans over their faces, matrons chattering in the corner… and Miss Charlotte Lucas, just being led from the floor.

“I declare, they might have hired an orchestra that could play in harmony,” Miss Bingley sneered. “We are a long way from Grosvenor Square, are we not, Mr Darcy? I fancy you did not relish coming here this evening to watch the swineherds stomp some milkmaid’s toes with their muddy boots.”

“No,” he answered with forced steadiness. “Much to my relief, we are nowhere near Grosvenor Square, and that is not the reason I came here this evening.” He gave her a brisk nod and walked in the direction of Sir William, and it was with some wicked delight that he heard her indignant huff.

“Sir William,” he bowed upon reaching that gentleman, “may I importune you for an introduction to your elder daughter? ”

The gentleman looked as if he would fall over from delight, but he collected himself tolerably well and made the honourable presentation. Charlotte Lucas was a plain girl, and that was a generous assessment. Her girlhood looked to be long gone, and she had the aspect of one who was looking down the long shadow of spinsterhood with resignation. She smiled and performed her curtsy, but unlike her father, there was no mercenary twinkle in her eyes when she heard his name. She seemed a sensible young woman… exactly the sort his Elizabeth might befriend.

“May I offer you some refreshment, Miss Lucas?”

She sighed in obvious relief. “I thank you, Mr Darcy, for I am much in need of it. I have seldom danced so much in my life as I have tonight!”

“Then I shall spare you the exercise. Perhaps, as I am a stranger to the region, I might impose upon you to tell me something of the neighbourhood.”

“This is your first visit to Hertfordshire, Mr Darcy?”

“It is. However, I have been longing to visit, for I recently made an acquaintance who lives in the area. I was hoping to meet with my friend again, while in residence.”

“Indeed? Is your friend here this evening?”

He smiled. “I have only just entered the room, but I find it doubtful.”

“Perhaps it is someone I know, in which case I would be pleased to give you what information I may.”

“I think it likely.”

“Well, sir,” she pursed her lips, a mannerism so like his Elizabeth that it might have been learnt from her. “If you will but give me the name of the gentleman—or lady—I may tell you whether or not they are to be found here.”

He was silent a moment, amused at the coy tease and the sensible, easy tone in which it was delivered. Yes, surely this must be the Charlotte, friend of Elizabeth! He swallowed and dared to confess the fateful name. “The lady’s name is Miss Elizabeth Bennet. ”

Miss Lucas raised her eyebrows, and a little puckering of her lips betrayed her as an interested party. “Lizzy? You say you met her in Town?”

Darcy felt his palms begin to ache and sweat, and anyone looking on would surely have noted the burning flush he felt spreading across his face. “Indeed, last week,” he managed. His voice did not crack, did it?

“Oh, how very interesting,” she mused. “My poor friend has been most unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate? How is this?” he asked, altogether a bit too sharply. “Have there been ill tidings of her, or unfavourable talk? There was an uncharitable relation, I am to understand.”

“Poor Lizzy! It has been a dreadful affair, with her family and Mr Collins and all that. She never did wish to marry him, but recent days have been worse even than she feared.”

“Mr Collins! You do not mean that there is still some connection there?” His heart began a series of turns, flipping incautiously against his breastbone until he was certain Miss Lucas would perceive a fluttering of his cravat. He had thought her safe from that tyrannical buffoon! Had he followed her from London, exposed her, and made demands? Was she publicly betrothed, after all?

“Of course, there is still a connection,” Miss Lucas was tilting her head in puzzlement. “He is her cousin, after all, and heir to Longbourn estate.”

“I do not see why it should signify what he is to inherit. He ought not to have claim upon her hand if she does not wish to bestow it.”

Miss Lucas stared. “It signifies because when Mr Bennet dies, the family shall be turned out of Longbourn and Mr Collins shall claim his inheritance.”

“Mr… Mr Bennet… he is the master of Longbourn…” Darcy could scarcely breathe well enough to form the words. Her father owned an estate rather than some shop? She… she was a gentlewoman? A modest one, but… but… but !

“But she is not betrothed to Mr Collins,” he insisted. He opened his mouth to beseech her for every assurance, then closed it again and simply waited in dreadful suspense.

“Oh, goodness no, I can assure you of that. I understand he has been most offensive, and Mr Bennet let Lizzy off the engagement, but you know, matters are far from well, what with Lydia and Mary.”

He could breathe again. The stars ceased spinning in his vision, and he fought to steady his voice. “Lydia and Mary? And who are they?”

“Her sisters, of course.”

“Ah! She mentioned something of them.”

“Poor Elizabeth! Lydia’s folly is beyond help, but Lizzy and Jane tried defending Mary. Public talk prevailed, as it always does, and Mr Bennet was obliged to keep her home.”

“Miss Mary was… the sister who was disgraced?”

“There was no help for it. They were all searching, but it was Mary who found Lydia, escorted by Mr Collins and his manservant.”

Darcy was leaning intently close, so closely that if Miss Lucas’ mother were watching, she might already be sending for a dressmaker. He forced himself to straighten. “Found her… at the public house?” he blurted out.

“It was a bad business! It might all have been settled quietly, but for Mr Collins. I see that you are sympathetic to my friend, sir, and so you must know something of that man’s crimes against civility.”

“In—” Darcy cleared his throat. “Indeed. He is an unscrupulous, indecent sort of man.”

“I almost cannot blame Lydia for refusing to go home under Mr Collins’ escort. They say he promised such doom upon silly Lydia that she refused to be trapped in the same carriage with the man. Not that he offered to take her at any rate, of course, for it would have been a shame upon his office, so he said, and so he and his manservant simply left. Poor Mary waited in a corner all night—she would not leave her sister, do you see—but they were both ruined in the affair when it all came out.”

“And this… this sister… no, the other—Miss Jane, I believe her name was, that she praised so highly—?”

“Who could not feel pity for Jane? Lizzy is my particular friend, of course, but Jane is nearly as dear. She deserves none of the scorn she has received.”

“Then she is still at home?”

“Well, not at present. Do you see? She is sitting over there with Lizzy just now.”

Struck with awe, he jerked his head about, and there, just as the line of dancers moved in the right way, he found a dark head bowed before the world. Her beautiful face was cast down, the sparkling eyes fastened on the floor. Was she aware of his presence? Had she seen him already?

His neck reached its limit, and careless that it caused him to turn his back on Miss Lucas, he impatiently turned his body the other way, and then he saw. Her eyes lifted bashfully, she blushed, and then addressed a blonde girl beside her. She raised her fan to shield her face as if she hoped she had not been noticed, and he was forced to look instead at the blonde. She was as stunning as Elizabeth had declared her to be, but as sad and dejected-looking as her sister.

A sudden urge seized him. It was not enough merely to go to Elizabeth. He must procure Bingley’s company as well! She could not be easy while her sister looked on in pain and solitude, and if all that was said of Jane Bennet were true, he would be securing for his friend the finest treasure in the room—besides the one he meant to win for himself.

“Sir,” Miss Lucas interrupted his reverie, “you may think me vulgar, but I have little of prospects to lose, and I do not mind appearing unladylike. May I ask the nature of your interest in Elizabeth? Are you truly a friend? ”

He looked back down to the lady who had been so accommodating. “What manner of question is that? Did I not consider her a friend, would I have enquired after her welfare?”

“I would not see my friend injured,” she explained shortly. “But if you do indeed hold good intentions, pray, do not be discouraged. Elizabeth is not usually how she appears tonight. Any other friend of hers would already know this, but I am surprised at how much has been new information to you. May I ask, sir, precisely how did you meet Lizzy and claim friendship with her if you truly know so little about her circumstances?”

The smile on his face must have been ridiculous, but he cared nothing for it. “I was her servant for the day.”