Page 4 of Moments Frozen in Time (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

Shortly after we entered the assembly hall that evening, I had met her mother and had not been impressed by her behaviour, nor by that of her younger sisters.

However, after the “encounter” with my mother, I began to view the company differently.

I saw the younger girls for what they were—lively, excitable creatures experiencing their first taste of society amongst a close circle of friends.

They were near in age to Georgiana, and it was clear that all young ladies could make mistakes without proper instruction—a truth I knew all too well.

I frowned at the recollection of Georgiana and waited too long to speak, for I saw Miss Elizabeth’s face transform into one of worry and, perhaps, mortification.

I rushed to speak to alleviate any concerns she may have about my silence.

“Forgive my lack of response, Miss Elizabeth; I was thinking about what you said. There are many in so-called polite society who have never learnt proper manners but are accepted for material reasons or due to their status. But even a tiny misstep can cause a person to be excluded from society.”

The dance separated us once again, and I could tell from my partner’s face that she was considering what I had said.

“ Society’s rules can be harsh at times.

As a woman, I feel them most acutely—for if I or one of my sisters were to make a single misstep, it could lead to our entire family being disdained and cut off from society.

It is a difficult line to walk at times, and I wish my father would do more to restrain my youngest sisters’ behaviour in public.

Fortunately, our friends here understand, but, as you said, polite society would not welcome them or excuse their improper actions as readily. ”

“They are young yet; perhaps with additional guidance, they could be taught better. If not for Miss Bingley’s presence, I would invite my sister to join me here at Netherfield.

Your sisters might encourage her towards liveliness, and she might influence them towards more appropriate behaviour in public,” I offered, although I was unsure what caused me to do so.

However, I was pleased when my response evoked a laugh from the lady.

“Alas, Miss Bingley strikes again,” she teased, before turning slightly more serious.

“I would be more worried about my sisters influencing your sister than the reverse. Although Lydia is younger, Kitty follows her about, doing everything she is told. Lydia has a way of persuading others, particularly Kitty and their friend Maria Lucas, into doing everything she demands. I am uncertain how she manages it, but the older girls are afraid of losing her good favour and so follow her blindly. If she could be contained, then both my sister and Charlotte’s would likely behave better.

My Uncle Gardiner, who lives in London, has tried to persuade Papa to send Lydia to school, but he refuses to do so. ”

I hated seeing that look of… was it defeat?… on such a lovely lady’s face. However, I did not know what else I might say or do to remove it. We were separated again by the steps of the dance, and I contemplated her words.

“Do you… do you think there is any chance if I or Bingley were to say something to him, he might be persuaded? I do not want to overstep on such a slight acquaintance since I have not even met him yet. He is not here tonight, is he?” I asked.

She sighed. “No, he is not. He attends few events, preferring to remain at home with his books and his port.”

I fell silent for several moments, surprised at the turn of the conversation. Miss Elizabeth had been a lively and interesting companion, and I was suddenly unsure what caused the conversation to take such a despondent turn.

“Forgive me, Miss Elizabeth, for upsetting you in such a way. Perhaps we could finish our dance with a more pleasant conversation.” At her nod, I sought another topic to discuss, finally settling on a discussion of the surrounding areas.

“Can you suggest places where I might ride in the mornings to see any of the sights Hertfordshire has to offer? ”

She smiled then. “If I understand correctly, your seat is in the Peak District, is it not?” I nodded in reply.

“Whilst I am certain it is nothing to the Peaks, about which I have heard wonderful things, and I dearly hope to see one day, the tallest mount in our area is between Netherfield and Longbourn. It is called Oakham Mount, and from it, you can see much of the farms on both estates and many of those that surround them. The view is one of my favourites in all of Hertfordshire, and I walk to its peak as often as I am able.”

“You do not ride?” I could not keep the surprise from my voice as I asked the question.

“My father did not keep horses appropriate for us. Only Jane had the opportunity to learn when she was young, and she retains enough skill to occasionally ride Nelly, who is nearly as old as I,” Miss Elizabeth responded.

I frowned. “Bingley may have an appropriate horse, should you wish it. I would be pleased to teach you.”

The dance ended, and we each honoured the other before she took my arm for me to escort her towards her elder sister.

“I would be delighted, sir, but I am afraid such a request would be tantamount to a proposal in my mother’s eyes.

It is likely she will have much to say about your dancing the last with me even though you also danced with Jane and Charlotte.

Perhaps Mama will believe that you and your friend will both seek Jane’s hand since you each danced with her tonight.

” This last was said with a grin, and I once again struggled not to laugh at her obvious impertinence.

“I will see what can be done. If I can persuade Bingley to invite you and your sister to Netherfield, that might circumvent your mother’s gossip.

Of course, we would have to first do something about Miss Bingley, for if you and your sister started visiting Netherfield frequently, I have little doubt she would complain. ”

She laughed again. “Inviting us there might also make it worse. But I can stand the comments if you can, for I would dearly love to learn to ride. ”

“And I would be delighted to teach you,” I said, bowing over her hand.

It was most unlike me to flirt so brazenly with a young lady, particularly one I had just met, but Miss Elizabeth differed from any woman I had met before.

I felt… comfortable around her, not awkward or uneasy as I did around so many others.

Something—beyond simply my late mother’s words at the assembly—told me that I had found one lady in England who would not seek my attention solely for what I could offer her, either financially or socially.

Miss Elizabeth was content with her lot, and I truly believed her when she said she would marry only for love.

The ride back to Netherfield was, to say the least, unpleasant.

Miss Bingley was visibly displeased with how I had spoken to her at the assembly and even more so that I had danced with several of the local ladies but not with her.

Although I had partnered with Mrs. Hurst for a dance, after my conversation with my friend’s unmarried sister, I had done my best to avoid her entirely.

That lady spent the entire ride complaining about the assembly: the music, the food, the drinks, and the company.

She lectured her brother about his poor taste in companions, obliquely referring to my so-called rudeness to her earlier, though she would not reference it directly.

In her typical fashion, she simply ignored whatever she did not agree with and continued on as though no one else had spoken.

I did my best to ignore her, allowing her words to wash over me as mere noise.

However, between the smell of her perfume, which seemed to have grown stronger over the course of the evening, and her shrill voice, my head began to ache.

By the time we arrived at my friend’s leased estate, I desired peace and quiet.

When Bingley requested that I join him in his study for a nightcap, I accepted out of a sense of obligation.

“Bingley,” I said as I entered the room, “I am exhausted. Might we wait until the morning to speak further of your estate? From what I saw as I arrived, everything appears to be in good order, but there is nothing we need to speak of tonight, is there?”

My friend looked at me for several moments. “You were surprisingly pleasant tonight,” he said, but then he laughed. “Well, to all but my sister, who accused you of being most ungentlemanly towards her.”

“I did speak to her rather sharply,” I acknowledged. “Her disdain for the community was on full display, and that would not have served you well as you are attempting to make your place in this society.”

“She merely emulates those she sees in town and acts in a similar fashion. Lady Matlock would have found little good in this society tonight, although I admit I found it pleasant enough,” my friend countered, excusing his sister as he always did.

“Lady Matlock would have been all that was charming and pleasant to those in company,” I said as guilt laced my conscience at my own initial assessment of the company and the area.

“She would not have spoken as your sister did, nor would she have judged the crowd on such superficial concerns as I initially did.”

I continued, holding my hand up to stop my friend when he opened his mouth to speak.

“However, you can scarcely compare your sister’s behaviour to that of my aunt.

The Countess of Matlock is in a vastly different social sphere than your sister.

Your sister will not do well in this society if she treats those higher than herself with disdain.

Yes, you are wealthy, but you are not landed as so many of those in attendance tonight were.

Your sister might have a large dowry, but she is still the daughter of a tradesman, and even when you purchase an estate, you will still be only newly landed.

Your sister thinks much too well of herself. ”

Bingley shook his head. “I am aware, Darcy,” he replied.

“However, she is not the reason I asked you to join me tonight. I wanted to thank you for being more pleasant in company than is your wont. For a moment, I was concerned that your behaviour would have affected my welcome in this area, but I believe even you ended up enjoying yourself. I should not have badgered you into dancing when you informed me clearly that you had no intentions of doing so, and I confess that I am relieved you did not say something worse when I offered to introduce you to Miss Elizabeth. It would have been my fault for pushing you, but I think that even you found her company engaging.”

For a moment, I could not speak, so I merely nodded.

Whatever apparition had come to me in that moment, preventing me from saying what would doubtlessly have been cutting and sharp, had been a blessing.

In hindsight, I doubted that it was my mother who had come to me, but as I recalled the incident, I felt… odd.

“I was churlish, but I am glad to have allowed the introduction in the end,” I admitted. “Miss Elizabeth was a pleasant companion, and her sister and friend were charming and intelligent. Perhaps there is more to be said for country manners than I first thought.”

After finishing my glass, I listened to Bingley a little longer before finally pleading exhaustion to make my escape and retire for the night.

In my room, I took a few moments to reflect on the evening, beginning with the strange conversation with my mother and then turning my thoughts to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

She was lovely—perhaps not as classically beautiful as her elder sister, but by no means plain.

I had always favoured brunettes, and the candlelight had caught the rich tones of her dark brown hair.

She was tall for a lady, though still a fair bit shorter than I, and we danced together with surprising ease.

Her eyes had sparkled with wit and intelligence, and I found myself enjoying the playful teasing that passed between us as we spoke and later danced.

She was articulate and clearly well-read, especially for a woman.

So many of my acquaintance—male and female—would scarcely admit to reading anything beyond the society pages, yet she spoke comfortably of the classics and more recent poets alike.

She confessed to reading novels, but not for the novelty or shock value, and when she introduced me to a local landowner, he addressed her as someone knowledgeable in agricultural matters.

Her response was intelligent, well-considered, and thoroughly respectable.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet intrigued me. She was not at all the sort of woman I had expected to encounter in the country, and yet—perhaps—there was truth in what my mother had said.

Or rather, what I imagined she might say, had she truly been present.

It had been her voice I heard in my mind earlier, sharp and clear as ever, insisting that this was the kind of woman I needed. I was still uncertain.

Whether it was a product of memory or something more, the thought lingered in my mind in sharp counterpoint to all that my father had said since my mother’s death.

That she knew he had made a mistake in advising me to marry for wealth and connexions was particularly interesting, and the whole matter gave me pause.

These thoughts danced through my head as I completed my nightly ablutions and as I lay in bed, eventually falling into a fitful sleep.