Bingley stifled another yawn. “There’s an assembly this evening. It’s a good way to meet people.”
Miss Bingley sniffed. “I don’t think there will be anyone at the assembly who I would like to meet.”
Darcy privately agreed.
“According to Sir William, all our neighboring families will be there,” Bingley said.
“I’ve not met Sir William. Is he a baron?” Miss Bingley asked hopefully.
“No. He’s a knight.” Bingley’s expression was bland. “He was in trade, but now owns an estate.”
Miss Bingley wrinkled her nose. “I see.”
“He’s very affable. We should get to know our neighbors.”
“You are assuming there is anyone worth knowing.” Miss Bingley’s tone suggested she didn’t believe there would be.
“I rented a manor in the country for the purpose of enjoying myself,” Bingley said, a hint of exasperation in his voice. “As much as I appreciate the company journeying with us, I have no intention of spending the next several months in Hertfordshire not mixing with local residents.”
“Yes, but an assembly? Anyone could be in attendance. All they need is a sixpence or whatever trifling pittance a countrified region deems acceptable.” Miss Bingley sniffed again. “The people there will be nothing to us.”
Her harsh tone met with silence. Bingley turned a somewhat vexed look out the window. Darcy agreed with Miss Bingley but saw no reason to pursue the subject.
“I would like to dance at an assembly,” Georgiana said into the silence, voice wistful.
Darcy turned to her in surprise. He hadn’t even realized she’d been aware of the conversation, she’d been so fixated on the passing buildings as they headed toward the edge of London. “Why?” he asked. “You do not like to be with strangers, and you won’t know anyone there. Do you even enjoy dancing?”
Bingley cast him a quick, surprised look. Darcy immediately regretted his harsh words, but Georgiana’s declaration confused him. She rarely spoke, not in the months since Ramsgate, but now she wished to enter a hall full of strangers?
“I like dancing,” Georgiana said, cheeks turning pink. “But I’ve only practiced with my dancing master and the girls at school. In Hertfordshire, you could dance with me or Mr. Hurst or Richard or Mr. Bingley. None of you will expect me to talk, so it will be easier.”
“But you could dance with any of them in London as well,” Miss Bingley pointed out. “I’m sure Charles would always be pleased to partner you.”
Georgiana shook her head. “It would matter in London,” she said, voice soft. “Before I dance with men where it matters, I would like to try dancing with strangers who don’t matter watching me. It may be I could even dance with someone to whom I’ve just been introduced. Maybe then, when I come out, I’ll be more comfortable.” She stared at her hands, resting in her lap. “If I make a fool of myself in Hertfordshire, it won’t matter.”
“Yes, but in going to their assembly, you may be forced to interact with them,” Miss Bingley said with another wrinkle of her nose. “And you’re rather young to expose to such vulgar personages.”
“I would like to go,” Georgiana said quietly. She turned questioning eyes on Darcy.
Darcy was more surprised by how much his sister had spoken than by her request. Perhaps she was recovering from the incident at Ramsgate and should be encouraged. He understood Georgiana’s point. The people they would meet in Hertfordshire truly didn’t matter. Since Ramsgate, his sister lacked confidence. Maybe going to a place where her superior breeding would make her shine would restore some of her poise.
He’d attempted to do so through small gatherings with her equals, to little effect. In Hertfordshire, the absolute lack of consequential people might be exactly what she required. He knew little of girls, but he was aware boys could be cruel to those they thought were weak. Even as a Darcy, his sister would be somewhat subjected to that behavior in London, whereas Georgiana’s obvious superiority should make her immune to such treatment at a country assembly.
“If you wish to go to this assembly, you certainly may,” he finally said. “You will not have to dance if you are not comfortable doing so. Nor should you feel obligated to speak with your partners. I will take you home the moment you ask.”
Miss Bingley made a tisking sound, but Georgiana smiled. That smile only grew as she turned back toward the window, the scene without one of rolling hills now. Sometime during their conversation, they’d passed out of London.
Darcy tried to feel pleased with his decision. Turning from his sister, he listened to Bingley and Miss Bingley discussing how old a child should be to secure employment in a cotton mill, with Miss Bingley arguing for laxer laws so work in the mill might begin at any age. Though he rather vehemently disagreed, Darcy couldn’t focus on the conversation, partly because he knew that Miss Bingley would change her opinion to match his as soon as he spoke and partly due to his sister. Anytime he glanced at Georgiana, her face angled slightly toward the passing scenery, his disquiet increased. There was something about her smile, an almost cunning edge, that didn’t set well. Such a smile couldn’t possibly be because he’d granted her permission to dance with him, Mr. Hurst, Richard or even Mr. Bingley.
The journey to Hertfordshire passed incident-free, which Darcy accounted in large part due to his participation in planning the jaunt. Netherfield Park, as well, proved acceptable. To be certain, the manor and grounds were amiable, even if they lacked the perfect blend of manmade and natural that his family achieved at Pemberley. As well, Pemberley shone with a greater attention to every minute detail. As they made a tour of the Netherfield manor, Darcy reflected that the sort of perfection his home boasted could only be created by years of dedication and would never be found in a property put up for rent.
Still, the satisfactoriness of Bingley’s choice in properties did much to ease Darcy’s mind. Unfortunately, that state of contentment lasted only until that evening, when their carriages bounced up the drive toward the assembly hall. One look, and all serenity fled.
Not a single carriage in the gaggle they maneuvered toward possessed anywhere near the style or value of theirs. Worse, many people flocked to the event on foot. He saw men without hats. Ladies in desperate need of another strip of lace. One family rolled up the drive in what could only be described as a cart, pulled by a mule.
Georgiana stared out, wide-eyed. Darcy looked from his sister to the scene without and back again, frowning. A glance showed Bingley wore his usual cheerful smile, unfazed.
Miss Bingley leaned forward, peeked around the curtain, and issued a sniff. “How very…rural.”
“Are those gentlemen singing and dancing a jig?” Georgiana asked.
Darcy followed the direction of her gaze to see several young men, hopefully not permitted inside, who appeared soused and who were, indeed, dancing. He reached out and tugged the curtain closed. “Let’s hope those within are of at least slightly superior quality.”
“You may as well ask a horse to speak,” Miss Bingley said primly.
“I enjoy a lively gathering,” Bingley countered.
Darcy clamped his mouth closed over a rejoinder. He would need to remain close to his sister. Undoubtedly, she would be exposed to a myriad of ill manners that evening.
Inside proved marginally better. It turned out that neither the dancing men nor the family in the cart meant to attend. Apparently, those who weren’t even worthy enough to join the hodgepodge assembly routinely gathered without to mingle and observe their betters come and go.
Still, Darcy partnered Georgiana first, to gain time to observe the room and form a plan to protect her. He made no attempt at conversation, intent on studying the other occupants of the hall. Nor did his sister speak. She did, however, dance well. Her skill proved a surprise, and noticeable enough to penetrate his distraction.
He relinquished Georgiana into Richard’s care, then stood up with Miss Bingley, followed by a set with Mrs. Hurst. During
that set, Georgiana danced with Bingley. The few glimpses Darcy got of her showed she spoke little to Richard, and even less to Bingley. She then danced a set with Mr. Hurst, while Darcy watched on, relieved he wouldn’t be called on to dance again that evening. He’d done his duty to his party. Now, he could concentrate on chaperoning Georgiana.
Oddly, his sister spoke more with Mr. Hurst than any of her previous partners. As they danced, he even smiled several times. After her set with him ended, Darcy expected she would decline whichever man next approached her. By tradition, that refusal would end her participation in dancing for the evening. He might take her home soon, as there was nothing to occupy them save being accosted by country gentry. Her set with Mr. Hurst drew to a close, and Darcy gestured to catch their attention, waving Georgiana over.
She saw him but turned away as a young man approached her and Mr. Hurst. The man chatted with Mr. Hurst, who introduced him to Georgiana. Before Darcy fully grasped his sister’s intention, Mr. Hurst strode toward him and Georgiana began the next set with the unknown young man.
Darcy didn’t hide his frown as Hurst joined him along the wall. “With whom is my sister dancing?”
“A young Mr. Lucas,” Hurst said. “Seemed an amiable chap. Eldest son of Sir William Lucas. If you remember, Bingley introduced us when we entered.”
Darcy couldn’t find any actual fault with that. He turned his attention back to watching his sister. Oddly, she seemed to be carrying on an animated conversation with the young man. She looked rather…happy. When the set ended, the two were approached by another young man, and Georgiana danced again.
Darcy’s frown deepened. Perhaps he’d been mad to let her attend. She wasn’t out. Not really. She would come out with a grand party in London, or at Pemberley. Eventually. In a year. Maybe two. After the incident in Ramsgate with Wickham, Darcy wanted Georgiana kept away from all men until she was old enough to make intelligent decisions.
An excess of giggling caught his attention. He sought the source with his gaze to find an older woman, several younger ones beside her, chortling in an unacceptable manner. Darcy watched for a moment as the older woman leaned over and whispered to the youngest of her companions, the one he’d spotted without who required more lace. They both laughed in an over-loud way. Looking at the eldest of the bunch, it occurred to him that he may have to keep Georgiana away from men for longer than he’d thought. It appeared some women never attained the ability to make intelligent decisions.
“That’s Mrs. Bennet,” Hurst informed him. “Those are three of her daughters. She has five, and no sons, poor woman. I’m going to inspect the card room. You should dance, Darcy. There isn’t a woman here who wouldn’t be happy to stand up with you.”
Darcy shook his head and returned to glaring at Georgiana and her partner. As he watched, both Richard and Bingley sailed by, each with an unknown young woman as their dance partner. Darcy tried to calculate for how long he’d be made to remain. He began to wish he’d brought Mrs. Annesley after all, for she could have escorted Georgiana back to Netherfield Park.
As the evening wore on, Darcy couldn’t avoid certain introductions. Each proved less acceptable than the last, yet he’d no opportunity to depart. Georgiana danced on. Richard and Bingley were enjoying themselves. Both danced indiscriminately with anyone who happened to be available. They weren’t even exclusively partnering the attractive women. Early on, they both danced with Miss Lucas, sister to Georgiana’s first partner outside their group, who was very plain.
After what felt like hours, Richard left off dancing and headed Darcy’s way. Darcy dared to hope his cousin had come to his senses. It was high time they headed back to Netherfield Park.
“Georgiana isn’t going to come to any harm,” Richard said. “You should dance.”
Darcy grimaced. “Why? You know how I detest it unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. I danced once already with Georgiana and both of Bingley’s sisters. All are engaged now.”
“You shouldn’t need me to point it out to you, but there are other women here,” Richard said. “Many of whom are in want of a partner each set, there being a shortage of gentlemen.”
Darcy shook his head. “Bingley is monopolizing the only beautiful woman in the room. There is no one else here who is pretty enough to dance with.”
Richard looked over to where Bingley spoke with a young woman Darcy had come to understand was Miss Bennet, eldest of the five Bennet sisters, whom Mr. Hurst had mentioned.
“She is beautiful, and very pleasant as well,” Richard said. He turned back to Darcy, grinned, and held up a finger. “First, it is your duty as a gentleman to dance.” He added a finger. “Second, as I warned you long ago, Bingley is wont to monopolize the most beautiful woman in every room.” A third finger, and a pleasant expression aimed over Darcy’s shoulder. “Third, Miss Bennet’s sister, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, is very pretty, and she is behind you. I could introduce you to her.”
“Which do you mean?” Darcy turned around and caught the eyes of a young woman who stood a few paces away, beside Miss Lucas. Her interested expression revealed she eavesdropped on their conversation. Her impudence caused him to frown. “She is tolerable, but not beautiful enough to tempt me; I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men.”
The young woman’s eyes, which were far more tolerable than he’d acknowledged to Richard, widened slightly. Beside her, Miss Lucas issued a small gasp.
Darcy hid a wince. Perhaps, in his ire, he’d gone too far, but he wouldn’t apologize. He was a Darcy, after all, and these people were beneath him. There was little anyone, even Richard, could say to convince him otherwise.
Chapter Six
Richard stepped around him, obscuring the two women and filling Darcy’s vision. “Darcy, come with me,” he said in a tone he had probably used for ordering troops.
Puzzled, Darcy took in his cousin’s hard expression. Richard gestured for Darcy to follow, then led the way toward an empty corner of the room, far from the dancing. Since the musicians were taking a break, conversations were increasingly filling the room, with everyone speaking louder to be heard over the din.
Richard reached the wall and turned. His censorious expression hadn’t slackened. “Darcy, you did me a great favor by helping me with Rosings and I’m going to do you one now.”
“I beg your pardon?” Darcy said, for Richard didn’t appear in the mood to grant a favor, but rather like he wished to lecture.
Richard’s mouth quirked in a wry smile. “The difference is, I appreciated your intervention. You will resent mine.”
Darcy held up a hand. “Can it not wait, then? This evening is already intolerable.”
Richard’s face became once more devoid of humor. “No, I do not believe it can wait,” he said, tone serious. “You behaved insufferably just now. You insulted a lady. Not only that, she overheard you. I don’t care how wealthy you are or how distinguished your ancestors were. I’ve heard from others that you are resented by many. I didn’t understand it before. Now I realize that is because I’ve only seen your behavior among people you respect.”
“Come now, it can hardly matter what I do here,” Darcy cut in defensively, chagrin surging through him.
“It always matters,” Richard said, implacable. “Good manners aren’t only about behaving properly when you want to. For no reason at all, you insulted a woman. If she’d any brothers, they’d be tempted to challenge you.” Richard shook his head. “I thought you were taught better than that. Your father would never have behaved that way.”
Annoyance and humiliation did war in Darcy’s gut. “My father knew how to insult people,” he muttered. “I’ve heard him do it.”
“Yes. So, have I, but he did so deliberately and when he had a reason. That woman did nothing to deserve your insult.”
“She didn’t have a partner,” Darcy said, that paltry excuse ringing hollow.
“What if it had been me?”<
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Darcy whirled to find Georgiana behind him. He stared at her in surprise.
“I said, what if it had been me?” she repeated, steely eyed.
Darcy had never seen his sister so angry. “You shouldn’t listen in on a private conversation,” he said stiffly.
That, after all, was how this Miss Elizabeth Bennet had become insulted. The fault for her mortification resided with her, for eavesdropping, not with him, for speaking the plain truth. Looking between his sister and cousin, he decided not to voice that thought aloud.
“I heard very little of what you and Richard are discussing, but I can guess,” Georgiana said. “I overheard Mr. Lucas tell his brother about your insult.” She maintained her glare. “Must I repeat my question a third time?”
Was any conversation private here? “It couldn’t have been you,” Darcy said to stave off that repetition. “You wouldn’t be without a partner.” He could all but feel the disapproval radiating off his sister and Richard. Within Darcy, annoyance began to win out over mortification.
“Only because of my wealth,” Georgiana stated. “There are more women here than men. If that happened in London, I could easily be without a partner. Would that make me worthy of insult?”
Darcy clamped his mouth closed, having no good reply. Why did Georgiana have to choose this moment to find her voice?
Georgiana moved closer to glare up at him. “Besides which, Miss Elizabeth Bennet is prettier than I am. She dances better, too. Are you saying that, without my connections and dowry, I wouldn’t be worthy of a dance? I, myself, have no merit beyond what you and our father chose to provide me?”
Darcy looked from his sister to his cousin. There was no give in either’s expression. He did not think he’d done anything so terribly wrong. Certainly not wrong enough to warrant so much disapproval, but he was willing to placate them, people he did respect, even if they were being trying. “If I dance with her, will that make you both happy?”
A Duel in Meryton Page 5