Page 33

CHAPTER 33

A Dinner Party at Netherfield

21 OCTOBER 1811

F or the next two days, things in Meryton were quiet.

Heavy rain kept everyone indoors on Saturday, and on Sunday, those at Netherfield encountered the family from Longbourn only briefly at church.

At Bennet’s invitation, Darcy had attended Longbourn chapel each Sunday he had been in the area, but this was the first morning the rest of the Netherfield party joined him.

Darcy and Georgiana sat beside Elizabeth in the Bennet pew, much to Miss Bingley’s displeasure.

Although he returned to Netherfield with the rest of his party and made no effort to seek out Miss Bingley’s exclusive company, she took some comfort in the fact that he had not visited Longbourn or spent another day with Miss Eliza.

Even so, the countess’s pointed treatment of her, along with the sharp remarks she had endured from both that lady and her own aunt, left her unusually subdued.

She offered only a few small comments, mostly remarks about how fortunate she felt to be spending her time in what she termed “superior society. ”

On Monday morning, Darcy and Georgiana set out early on horseback and met with Elizabeth during their ride.

After acknowledging Elizabeth’s footmen, they rode the last little bit to the cottage, where Darcy and Elizabeth began to tell Georgiana all that they had discussed over the past few days.

“Mr. Wickham is here?” Georgiana asked, her voice trembling as the colour drained from her face at the mention of his name.

“He is,” Elizabeth replied gently, placing a comforting hand on the girl’s arm.

“But you need not be afraid. Your brother and cousin have taken every precaution to ensure that neither of us will come to harm.”

Georgiana closed her eyes, visibly shaken.

“This is all my fault,” she whispered, breathless.

“I should never have spoken to him in Ramsgate. If I had not, none of this would be happening.”

“No, Georgiana,” Darcy said firmly, his tone brooking no argument.

“This is not your fault. You had no way of knowing what kind of man Wickham truly was—that failure lies with me. I should have warned you about what he had become. I know you tried to distance yourself from him and that Mrs. Younge encouraged you to receive him. She was complicit in all of this, and you were misled.”

He paused, his expression tight with guilt.

“Richard and I kept you too sheltered, thinking we were protecting you. But in doing so, we left you vulnerable. I should never have left you alone in Ramsgate. Still, that is not the full story.”

He drew a slow breath before continuing.

“Although I cannot prove it, I suspect our uncle, Lord Matlock, was involved. I believe he orchestrated the situation to create leverage over me—to force my compliance to his wishes. If that was his intent, he will be sorely disappointed. I will not yield to his demands.”

Darcy’s expression darkened as he spoke, and he rose abruptly, beginning to pace the small cottage with measured, agitated strides, while Elizabeth and Georgiana watched him.

“Richard and I are doing everything in our power to protect both you and Elizabeth,” he said, repeating Elizabeth's previous assurance. His voice was tight with suppressed fury; his fists clenched at his sides. “Wickham will not come near either of you.”

“Calm yourself, William,” Elizabeth said gently, rising to her feet and stepping beside him. She took his clenched hands in hers, and after a moment’s hesitation, he let go of his fists and folded his fingers around hers instead.

She watched as Darcy drew in a slow breath through his nose and exhaled sharply, a visible attempt to calm himself before he turned to face her.

“I will not yield to my uncle,” he said firmly.

She held his gaze. “William, I know you will do all you can to protect your sister and me—and all my sisters—from whatever Lord Matlock or Wickham might attempt.”

Darcy sighed heavily. “I do not believe I have mentioned what my aunt told me about Miss Bingley, have I?”

Elizabeth lifted her eyebrows. “No…you have not. What did she say?”

He released her hand to run his through his hair in frustration, his fingers lingering for a moment at the back of his neck before he dropped his arm. “It appears Miss Bingley may have been meeting with Wickham.”

Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath, her expression shifting from confusion to alarm. “With Wickham? Why?”

“Although she claims to understand that I will never offer for her, she has been overheard suggesting she would rather see you ruined than allow you to marry me,” he continued bitterly. “She has been furious with me since arriving at Netherfield. I embarrassed her, in her view, by ignoring her, and, as she put it, choosing a ‘low country chit’—her words, not mine.”

Elizabeth’s brows rose, but she said nothing.

“For years, she has believed she is the ideal woman for me, when in truth, she merely wants my name and my wealth. She considers you unworthy of the position and has not liked that I have paid you attention while ignoring her. In fact, since coming here, I have made it very clear that I would never marry her, regardless of what she tried, and I suspect that has pushed her to act outrageously,” he concluded.

“You mean—even if she compromised herself?” Elizabeth asked quietly.

Darcy nodded. “Even then, I made it clear that nothing would induce me to marry her. According to her aunt, she went into Meryton without her brother’s knowledge the day after my aunt’s arrival when we were all at Longbourn. Richard believes she intended to spread rumours about the Bennet family. She was seen speaking with Lady Lucas, then several militia officers. Nothing is confirmed, but Richard suspects the one she spoke with the most was Wickham. That may be why Wickham seemed to have targeted you when you first met.”

His voice lowered. “We now have an officer shadowing him—his task is to gain Wickham’s trust and uncover whatever plans he may have.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened in alarm, her voice trembling. “I knew Miss Bingley disliked me—but to conspire with Wickham? Was she content to destroy my reputation, or…or was something even more terrible intended for me?”

Darcy’s expression darkened. “We do not know yet. That is what we must find out—and quickly. Whatever they are planning, we need to be ahead of it.”

Elizabeth stepped forward and slipped her arms gently around Darcy’s waist. The unexpected gesture caused Georgiana to gasp .

Darcy turned, surprised by both the embrace and his sister’s reaction. Elizabeth followed his gaze, her arms still loosely encircling him.

“Forgive me,” Georgiana said softly, her voice tinged with hesitation.

Chuckling lightly, Darcy loosened his grasp on Elizabeth and turned to face his sister. “Apparently, we have told you so many things, but what we have forgotten to tell you is that Elizabeth and I are engaged. Her father knows, as do our aunt and cousin—but very few others. For now, we have chosen to keep it a secret. If Wickham finds out, Lord Matlock will know soon after. And I am not certain what Miss Bingley might do with the information or how she may react.”

Georgiana nodded solemnly. “I will not say a word. But Elizabeth—may I tell you how glad I am to know we will soon be sisters?”

Elizabeth’s expression softened as she moved from Darcy’s embrace to pull Georgiana into a hug. “You may, and you may call me Lizzy, if you like. My sisters do. It is only your brother who insists on using my full name with such frequency,” she said with a grin.

“That is true,” Georgiana said before giggling. “Just a few days ago, my aunt scolded Miss Bingley for calling me by my Christian name. She has often tried to make it seem as though the two of us were closer than we are. I never returned the liberty—I never called her by her name—but she would slip mine into conversation whenever she could as if we were the best of friends. She particularly did it when we were in company.”

Elizabeth laughed. “I would have liked to see your aunt put her in her place.”

“It was rather satisfying,” Georgiana admitted.

“Miss Caroline Bingley clearly looks down on everyone in Meryton,” Elizabeth added. “I have no doubt she believes I am unworthy of marrying your brother. But it does not matter—he has chosen me, and I am quite content to be that choice. ”

Elizabeth turned to her intended, mischief dancing in her eyes. “I am certain she will not be the only lady disappointed by your choice.” Her smile widened when she noticed the tips of his ears turning pink.

“There may be a few disappointed ladies,” Darcy replied, his tone gruff, but his eyes betraying his humour.

Elizabeth leant in, eyes bright. “And I daresay there will be many who are quite put out that you chose me instead of them. After all, you are very wealthy, and Pemberley is rather grand, is it not?”

She pressed a playful kiss to his cheek, drawing a scowl from him—half-hearted and full of affection. His eyes, warm and steady on hers, betrayed no real annoyance.

Elizabeth laughed and leant lightly against his arm, her heart full.

Georgiana, watching quietly, felt a smile tug at her lips. It warmed her to see her brother so unguardedly happy.

At last, the three realized how long they had spent tucked away in the small cottage and agreed it was time to part ways.

“I am loath to leave you,” Elizabeth said, “but we must go. I am glad we will see you again tonight at dinner. Miss Bingley, or, rather, Miss Horatia Bingley, has invited the Lucases, so it will be…an interesting gathering.”

She smiled. “We will say nothing of our engagement, of course, but I intend to spend as much time with you as I can. I am certain the Lucases approve of our match—even if Miss Caroline does not.”

With a small laugh, she continued, “I am particularly glad to see my friend Charlotte again. It has been too long—other visitors have been keeping me far too busy of late.”

Darcy chuckled and walked them outside to where their horses were tethered. He helped Georgiana mount first, then turned to Elizabeth. Before he lifted her into the sidesaddle, he lingered for a moment with his hands on her waist, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead .

Once Elizabeth was in the saddle, and after ensuring the footmen assigned to guard Georgiana and Elizabeth were ready, he gave a final nod.

The party then separated, heading to Longbourn or Netherfield and their respective breakfasts.

The Bennets were the first to arrive at Netherfield for the evening’s dinner party. They were shown into the drawing room, where the Bingley party awaited them, and after a few polite greetings were exchanged, everyone began to settle into smaller conversational groups around the room.

As was his custom, Charles Bingley immediately crossed to Jane and led her to a comfortable grouping of chairs. He seated himself beside her, speaking in low, cheerful tones, seemingly unaware of the rest of the gathering. Colonel Fitzwilliam joined Bennet nearby, both listening as much as they were speaking, while Mrs. Bennet made her way to a sofa occupied by Lady Matlock and Horatia Bingley, launching into spirited conversation with her usual enthusiasm.

Mary and Catherine soon found Georgiana and took seats near her. The three spoke quietly, occasionally glancing around the room under the gentle supervision of their elders.

In the far corner, Darcy and Elizabeth found a quieter spot, removed just enough to speak in relative privacy. For a few precious minutes—no more than ten—they enjoyed the rare luxury of uninterrupted conversation.

Then Caroline Bingley entered the room.

Her absence when the Bennets had arrived had gone entirely unnoticed. Now, as she stepped into the room, both her aunt and Lady Matlock looked up. Neither spoke, but their eyes followed her as she moved, without hesitation, straight towards the corner where Elizabeth and Darcy sat.

Without so much as a glance towards anyone else in the room, Caroline crossed the drawing room with affected poise, her gown, which was more suited to a night at the theatre than a country dinner party, shimmering in the candlelight. She stopped beside Darcy and offered him a practiced smile.

“Mr. Darcy,” she said sweetly, holding out a sheaf of music, “I thought I would play for everyone to pass the time before dinner and am in need of someone to turn the pages for me. Might I impose upon you to assist me?”

Darcy turned to look at her, distaste clearly written in his eyes. “Perhaps your brother would be more appropriate. I am occupied at present.”

Miss Bingley’s smile faltered, momentarily, but she quickly recovered. “But I would far prefer your company at the pianoforte. I recall you were always so precise with timing.”

Before Darcy could answer, Elizabeth spoke, her tone polite but firm. “I am sure Mr. Darcy is flattered, Miss Bingley, but we were in the middle of a conversation. Perhaps another time?”

With a huff barely concealed beneath a thin veneer of composure, Miss Bingley turned from the couple and swept away to the pianoforte. She launched into an elaborate concerto that was complex and demanding. Although her technique was undeniably polished, the performance lacked the warmth and expression that had made Elizabeth’s playing so captivating when he listened to her before. The instrument, positioned uncomfortably close to where Darcy and Elizabeth sat, now filled the room with sound, making further conversation between them all but impossible.

Darcy grimaced at Elizabeth, and leant closer to speak directly into her ear. “I prefer to listen to your playing. ”

Elizabeth smiled in return but said nothing. For the next several minutes, the couple sat together, his hand wrapped around hers, hidden from sight in her skirts, as they listened to the music.

Soon, Miss Bingley’s playing was interrupted by the arrival of the remainder of the guests. Darcy and Elizabeth took the opportunity to move away from the pianoforte as they went to greet Charlotte Lucas. After a few words were exchanged, and before anyone could settle back into their seats, the butler arrived and announced that the meal was served.

It did not take long for everyone to move into the dining room. Darcy escorted Elizabeth and Charlotte and followed closely behind their host and hostess. As soon as they entered, they noticed the confusion on the faces of all the guests.

Aunt Horatia’s eyes narrowed as she surveyed the dining table. The place cards were not as she had left them—that much she was certain. As she moved around the table, reading each name, her jaw tightened. Someone had deliberately rearranged them. Although irritation simmered beneath her composed exterior, she maintained her calm.

“Everyone, please sit wherever you like,” she said clearly, her voice firm and carrying. “It appears a mischievous child has been at the table. Do ignore the place cards.”

Then, she began guiding the seating of a few. “Mr. Bennet, if you would sit to my right. Sir William, please take the seat to my left. Caroline, do sit beside Sir William.”

Her voice, which had been filled with warmth when speaking to the rest, was cold when she mentioned her niece’s name. Miss Bingley only glared at her aunt, but she complied with the command, unwilling to push her aunt too far.

The remainder of the meal passed pleasantly enough for most. The youngest girls—Georgiana, Mary, and Catherine, together with Maria Lucas—were seated together near the centre of the table, chatting easily about their lessons, music, and recent attempts at watercolours. Their laughter occasionally drew fond glances from their companions and the others nearby.

At the far end, Bingley and Jane remained content in each other’s company, speaking in low tones and exchanging quiet smiles, seemingly oblivious to the rest of the table. The colonel sat near them and occasionally joined in, but as was his wont, he mostly listened.

Close to the head, Elizabeth and Darcy were seated near Lady Matlock, Lady Lucas, Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, and Mrs. Bennet. The conversation there was more general, touching on the weather, the improvements at Longbourn, and the celebration in Meryton that would be held on Guy Fawkes Day next Monday.

“I am told the musicians for the event are much improved,” Lady Lucas said, reaching for her wine glass. “At the last assembly, they were off-pitch.”

“I only hope they are not quite so fond of the hornpipes this time,” Mrs. Bennet added with a dramatic sigh. “It is terribly hard to carry on a proper conversation over such noise.”

“I believe you will be delighted to dance that evening,” Lady Matlock said with a teasing glance towards her nephew. “Will you not? I know that dancing is not among your favourite activities, but I believe it has become more acceptable in your mind.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow, his tone dry. “I have always enjoyed dancing but not conversing with a partner who can say nothing that is not about the weather or fashion.”

Elizabeth smiled, unable to resist. “Yes, I can believe you are particular in regard to your partners.”

“Only with the ones I intend to remember,” he said, casting a glance her way .

A faint, pleased flush rose on Elizabeth’s cheeks, which did not go unnoticed by Mrs. Hurst, though she chose—for once—not to comment.