Page 9 of Mission to Meryton (Pride and Prejudice Variation #25)
Jane Bennet bobbed her head nervously and answered, “Yes, I do speak some French, though not fluently.”
“That is good,” Darcy responded politely. “Miss Darcy speaks French well, far better than I do. It is a melodious language, do you not think?”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy,” his companion replied meekly.
Silence fell between them for a minute until Darcy, after cudgeling his brain for another topic of conversation, said, “I believe Miss Elizabeth enjoys playing chess with Mr. Bennet. Do you also enjoy the game?”
“No, I am afraid I am very stupid about chess.”
“But you enjoy spillikins,” Darcy continued, forcing himself to smile in what he hoped was a friendly manner.
“Very much,” Miss Bennet agreed, and lapsed into silence again.
Darcy sighed inwardly as he focused on the cheerful conversation between Miss Elizabeth and Georgiana, who were currently discussing Mozart. What did Bingley see in Miss Bennet, who while beautiful, did not hold a candle to her younger sister in terms of intellect and conversational prowess?
/
Darcy frowned suspiciously at the chess board. It appeared that Mr. Bennet had left a bishop unprotected but ... but no – if he took the bishop with his knight, his rook would be left vulnerable to a fork maneuver and would likely be a quick loss.
He nodded appreciatively and moved a pawn instead, causing Mr. Bennet to chuckle aloud and remark, “Very good, Mr. Darcy!”
Darcy glanced over to Georgiana, who was seated next to Mrs. Younge.
His sister looked not only comfortable, but interested in the conversation about Shakespearean plays.
As soon as the ladies had rejoined the gentlemen after dinner, Miss Bennet had made directly for Bingley and the twosome were now seated on a couch together, deeply engrossed in a mutually enjoyable conversation.
“Mr. Hurst and I once saw Kemble in Shakespeare’s Coriolanus ,” Mrs. Hurst announced. “I declare I have never seen anything so powerful and moving in my life!”
“Well, I think it sounds very dull,” Lydia Bennet declared with a toss of her dark curly head. “I have never seen a Shakespearean play, and I do not wish to do so; what is fun about actors raving on and on about war and power and death, after all? I much prefer a farce!”
Darcy looked back at Georgiana in time to see her rise to her feet, stretch out her hand, and begin to speak in a low, passionate voice:
The raven himself is hoarse
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements.
Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full
Of direst cruelty!
Make thick my blood;
Stop up the access and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
The effect and it!
Come to my woman’s breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances
You wait on nature’s mischief!
Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry ‘Hold, hold!’
A moment passed in stunned silence until Elizabeth Bennet rose to her feet with a sigh of wonder. “Miss Darcy, that was absolutely delightful! You have great skill!”
“I do not understand! Who or what was that?” Lydia demanded with a mixture of confusion and awe.
“Lady Macbeth,” Darcy and Elizabeth declared together, causing the pair to exchange startled glances. Elizabeth smiled and continued, “Specifically, it is the soliloquy where Lady Macbeth vows to murder Duncan, the king.”
Elizabeth turned her fine eyes on Miss Darcy. “Truly, you are a remarkable actress.”
Georgiana, who had reverted to her usual shy state under the combined stares of the assembled company, turned imploring eyes on her brother, who nobly stepped forward into the breach.
“Yes, Georgiana is gifted,” he agreed. “She and I both have participated in several amateur theatrics at Snowdon, the estate of our uncle, the Earl of Matlock. We have thus far only acted in comedies, but my sister greatly desires to play a tragic role someday and has memorized many of Lady Macbeth’s most famous speeches. ”
“So fascinating,” Georgiana managed to gasp as she sat down and lowered her head, her face red with embarrassment.
“It is wonderful!” Lydia Bennet exclaimed, walking over to sink down next to Georgiana. “Please, how do you do that? How do you use your voice so powerfully? I have never heard such a thing!”
“I do believe it requires being trained in elocution, does it not?” Miss Bingley suggested. “I daresay you have never had the opportunity to learn such skills from a master elocutionist, Miss Lydia.”
“I have not,” Lydia agreed, apparently unaware of Caroline Bingley’s slightly disdainful tone. “I should very much like to, however. Mama, might I learn from an elocutionist?”
At that moment, Mrs. Bennet, who had been staring blankly at the fire, was considering the fact that few people knew that tulip bulbs were in fact started from seeds, taking several years to grow into the bulb form.
It was quite impractical for an average person to start tulips from seeds, and thankfully quite unnecessary as .
.. She emerged from her reverie with difficulty, “Learn from who, Lydia?”
“An elocutionist,” Elizabeth repeated smoothly. She knew her mother often drifted into deep thought about tulips, and was used to helping overcome the subsequent conversational hurdles. “A person trained in voice production and gestures and delivery. Miss Darcy, have you had such training?”
“I have,” Miss Darcy managed to say, though in a soft voice. “My brother kindly arranged for a master of elocution to teach me in London.”
“Perhaps you may receive such training, Lydia,” Mrs. Bennet said, “though you will have to wait until spring, no doubt, when we move to London for the Season.”
“Are you going to London for the Season?” Miss Bingley asked in surprise.
“Oh yes,” Mrs. Bennet asserted. “We will rent a house for the Season and both Jane and Lizzy will be coming out. The other girls will wait at least a year, of course ...”
“Your move, Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Bennet commented, pulling Darcy’s focus away from the ladies and back to the game.
Even as his conscious mind grappled with his chess battle against a most skilled opponent, his subconscious mind marked another concern about the Bennets – a London Season for two young ladies was expensive; from where was the money coming?
/
“Well, what think you of Miss Bennet, Darcy?” Charles Bingley asked later with a triumphant smile.
“I think she far prefers you to me,” Darcy confessed. “I could barely get two words from the lady, but I heard her chatting with you entirely freely. In truth, it was a trifle odd.”
“It is odd that she prefers me to you?” his friend demanded, rather incensed.
“No, no, not at all! You are far more charming than I am, Bingley. It is odd that she was so very quiet. I would have almost thought it discourteous, except that she was clearly uncomfortable in my presence. She reminded me a little of Georgiana when she is feeling especially shy. Am I so imposing?”
“More so than I am, certainly,” Bingley returned jovially, his good humor restored. “Perhaps it is merely that Miss Bennet and I have so much in common.”
“Perhaps I will dance with her once at the upcoming Netherfield ball,” Darcy suggested, “and if she shows no continued interest in me, I will bow to your superior analysis of the situation. The lack of connection is still a concern, but ...”
“But I do not care about that,” Bingley continued with a wave of his hand. “Mind you, not a word to Caroline! I do not wish to have her buzzing in my ear while I consider my way forward in fixing Miss Bennet’s interest!”
Darcy opened his mouth and then closed it again.
He knew that Bingley would not believe that the Bennets could be part of a French spy ring and indeed, when he considered the father, mother and five daughters, it did seem most unlikely.
But Bennet himself was a truly gifted chess player, which indicated that the man had a strategic mind.
Were the man and his family gifted actors in a most dangerous play?