All's Fair in Love and War and Death

by Anne Morris

  Elizabeth had not let her eyes move from that tall and auspicious figure. They followed him as Mr. Darcy moved down the aisle and out through the bell tower entrance. When she turned out of that entrance, Elizabeth found a crowd of neighbors, but his eyes had been looking for hers, and Mr. Darcy smiled. It lit up his face, and Elizabeth felt a burst of power and lightness at the same time, deep within her. She moved around the edge of the crowd, out into the graveyard. Mr. Darcy walked away from his friend to be close to her.

  “I had not realized that this was your little corner of the country,” he said to her. Elizabeth thought Darcy sounded as though he was teasing her. Elizabeth had so many questions she wished to ask him that she didn’t know where to begin.

  “Yes!” Elizabeth replied with a happy smile on her face. “This is my village, the corner of the country where I was raised. How are you?”

  “I am well, Miss Bennet.” They exchanged a more formal greeting then, and Mr. Darcy even went so far as to extend his hand, clasp her own, and bow over it. “I am pleased to see you,” Mr. Darcy said when their fingers reluctantly let go of their hold on the other’s.

  “I am pleased to see you as well, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth replied.

  “Miss Bennet, may I call on you?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she answered. “I believe we are good friends, are we not?”

  “Yes, we were good friends in London. I should hope we shall be good friends here, in the country as well.” A fine mist began, indicative that rain was sure to follow.

  “Lizzy!” said a voice, and the two of them turned. Mary stood a yard away.

  “Mary?” asked Elizabeth looking at her sister.

  “Mrs. Bennet is ready to return home,” Mary explained.

  “Mary…” began Elizabeth, but then she wondered whether such a man would want to know her family. Mr. Darcy was also the superior so should ask for the introduction.

  “Will you introduce me?” Mr. Darcy immediately asked.

  “Mr. Darcy, this is my sister, Mary Bennet. Mary this is Mr. Darcy, who I met in London this summer.” The two acknowledged each other. “I fear I need to run home,” Elizabeth said, gathering her skirts in one hand.

  Darcy stopped her by holding out his hand again. She clasped his hand as if to shake it goodbye. “Will you be at the assembly ball on Tuesday?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Elizabeth acknowledged.

  “Will you save the first dance for me?” Mr. Darcy asked, still holding onto her hand.

  “Yes,” Elizabeth replied as the mist gave way to rain. He squeezed her hand and then let her go.

  There was a great deal of talk in that fearsomely squished carriage ride. Elizabeth, Mary, and the two youngest had walked to church, but the weather meant that they all rode home in the carriage with Daniel sitting on his mother’s lap, and Catherine and Lydia practically sitting on their older sisters’ on the thankfully short trip back.

  Mrs. Bennet and Jane discussed meeting Mr. Bingley and his two sisters for most of the ride. They both thought these new tenants of Netherfield Hall would be an excellent addition to their local community. And the fact that Mr. Bingley said he would be coming to the dance on Tuesday night had most everyone excited. Elizabeth could sense, however, that Catherine and Lydia were less pleased since they were not allowed to attend dances.

  “But I am seventeen!” Kitty declared just as they passed by Lucas Lodge. Maria Lucas was seventeen as well and had been out for over a year. “Why may I not attend, Papa?” she challenged. Catherine was sitting next to Elizabeth on one side with Mary on the other, her small frame compressed by drawing her shoulders together and crossing her legs under her skirts.

  “I leave that to Mrs. Bennet’s discretion,” replied her father, deflecting any responsibility.

  “Mrs. Bennet?” pounced Kitty. “I have been behaved recently. May I not attend the assembly ball?”

  “This is not a topic for a carriage ride,” answered their stepmother over the top of Daniel’s head. Elizabeth thought that a part of Mrs. Bennet considered she would never marry off her stepdaughters if they were not allowed to attend public events, though Catherine’s behavior had not necessarily been exemplary. Kitty, however, was greatly influenced by the wild behavior of her younger sister. Catherine was weak-headed. She might benefit from being allowed to attend an event away from Lydia’s influence—but under the guidance of her more level-headed sisters.

  “I will consider it,” Mrs. Bennet nodded. That was more encouragement than either Mr. Bennet or their mother would have given, and the sisters had already learned to believe her. Catherine said no more.

  There was no discussion during the next two days at Longbourn which was not centered around the assembly ball on Tuesday. Jane, Elizabeth, and Mary looked forward to the event because of these new neighbors and spent a great deal of time considering what to wear; they had not taken such care about the last dance.

  Jane seemed quite impressed with Mr. Bingley in those five or seven minutes she had spoken with him just outside the church. Mr. Bingley had mentioned that he loved dancing and intended to dance every dance if it was at all possible for him to do so. But Mr. Bingley also mentioned that he felt an obligation to meet as many neighbors as possible at the assembly and did not wish to slight anyone in the process. Jane expressed admiration for such a belief: that he would put his obligations above his personal enjoyment. Mary and Elizabeth could see a certain sparkle in Jane’s eyes as she readied herself for the assembly.

  All of their gowns were relatively new, though Jane ran a critical eye over all of them and insisted on mending the slightest and imperceptible of faults before deciding which one to wear.

  When they retired to bed, Mary tackled Elizabeth about Mr. Darcy.

  “You spoke so much about your friendship with Lady Emma,” Mary began, “but you did not mention Mr. Darcy, not really.”

  “He is Colonel Fitzwilliam’s cousin,” Elizabeth began. She was happy that the candle had been snuffed, and they were lying in bed together. She feared her cheeks blushed. “He is an admirable man, Mary, and I like him very much, just like I admire the colonel. He often escorted Lady Emma and me around town. Though he also took me for rides in the Park.”

  “A ride in the Park, Lizzy!” Mary exclaimed, twisting in bed in an attempt to get a better look at her older sister. “You never told me about that!”

  “There was such a whirlwind of happenings at Longbourn and in Meryton when I first returned,” explained Elizabeth thinking back to that first fortnight upon returning to Longbourn. “There had been no time to talk about it.”

  Elizabeth paused, taking a long time to gather her thoughts.

  “I felt we admired each other, but he did not pursue me,” she continued. “And it seemed foolish to discuss him then when the wedding was done, and the chaos of getting everyone settled in their proper place or chamber at Longbourn was upon us. We had a new Mrs. Bennet and Daniel Meeks come live with us and to establish as part of our lives. It seemed foolish, Mary, to admit to an admiration which had no purpose.” There was a pensive note to Elizabeth’s voice.

  “But he is here, in Meryton,” observed Mary. “So now you must tell all!”

  “I suppose I must,” agreed Elizabeth. They stayed awake late into the night, lost in conversation.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Mrs. Bennet, the new Mrs. Bennet, was a far more reasonable woman, and less given to hysterics than her predecessor. When she said that the consideration of Catherine’s attendance at the ball was not for the carriage but that she would discuss it later, she meant what she said. There was a long discussion between Kitty and Mrs. Bennet (just the two of them) in Mrs. Bennet’s sitting room. Lydia chafed at not being allowed in. It was the first time any of the daughters had been allowed into that sanctum which had been decorated for Mrs. Bennet before she had married their father and moved to Longbourn.

  None of the other four daughters suspected that Catherine Bennet noted how it had c
hanged since it had been her mother’s chambers, for Kitty was focused only on the conditions of her attendance at the ball. She was given permission by Mrs. Bennet, though word was passed down that Catherine must always stand up with one of her sisters. She was not to be running off in any foolish or flighty manner if she spied any of her friends. She must remain decorous at all times. The three oldest thought it was a decent trade-off, even though it meant that they were put into a position of always needing to be Catherine’s companion.

  Jane looked forward to the dance with her usual good humor. Mary did because she had enjoyed the last month’s assembly. Away from the hurtful comments of her mother, Mary had actually danced at the September assembly for the first time; she looked forward to a possible repeat of that occurrence. And Elizabeth already had her hand solicited for the first dance of the evening.

  Mr. Collins made the rounds of all of his cousins and solicited a dance from each of them. He insisted that Jane, being the eldest, give him the right of the first dance. Jane took it well. He then went down the line in-turn, insisting that he was to dance every dance, but that the first four sets were to be with his Bennet cousins, so the second, third and fourth sets were all assigned to their Cousin Collins.

  Elizabeth considered that she never had her hand solicited before an assembly ball before, but now she had two sets assigned. She did not think there was ever a Meryton beauty who was so sought out. Not even her late mother—who was sometimes discussed as a beauty. But at country assemblies, gentleman rarely solicited a lady’s hand beforehand.

  ***

  The party from Netherfield arrived in good time, and Sir Walter Lucas was there as a sort of statesman to greet the Netherfield party to welcome them officially to Meryton. All eyes in the room were upon that group of five: Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley, his two sisters, and the other gentleman, who according to rumors was a husband to one of the sisters.

  Sir William introduced Mr. Bingley to his family, and though the Bennets were close by, they were not close enough to hear. They had taken seats nearby; for once, Elizabeth did not cross the entirety of the room to seek a position as an observer.

  She could see the smiles and charm of Mr. Bingley when she allowed her eyes to drift to him, but they were mostly focused on Mr. Darcy who was called to pay attention as Sir William made introductions. Elizabeth had caught Mr. Darcy sweeping the hall with his own gaze until he found hers, and he smiled with pleasure when they saw each other.

  The band began to tune, a sure indication that dancing was to follow, and Elizabeth watched as Mr. Bingley invited her friend, Charlotte Lucas, to dance. There were expectations then as eyes darted toward Mr. Darcy. He said something, and Elizabeth thought she heard him speak the name ‘Bennet.’ Sir William Lucas nodded and smiled in his affable way before he threw an arm out in the Bennets’ direction as he pointed out Elizabeth and her family to Mr. Darcy.

  Sir William insisted on escorting Darcy over. Elizabeth perceived that one of Mr. Bingley’s sisters looked thunderous, but she did not think too much about it as the pair continued to walk towards her. All eyes in the assembly hall moved from Mr. Bingley, leading Charlotte Lucas to the floor, to watching the handsome figure of Mr. Darcy being led from Sir William Lucas’ family grouping. The pair walked past various neighbors (who had crept over to be near enough to hear) to the Bennet family where Mr. Darcy was introduced, and he claimed Elizabeth for their dance.

  It was evident to most of the intelligent people in the room that Miss Elizabeth and this young man had a prior acquaintance. His name swept around the room like fire on dry timber does: Mr. Darcy, Mr. Darcy? Mr. Darcy from Derbyshire, Mr. Darcy of Pemberley! He was variously worth a different amount of money, and while reports varied wildly, the fact that Elizabeth Bennet was known to him set up such wild speculations that everyone in the room instantly had a theory as to why he was there.

  Elizabeth herself had a theory as to why he had come. Mr. Darcy had encouraged a friend, one she could not quite recall meeting in London: Mr. Charles Bingley. Elizabeth thought she might have met him in passing once in her early days there. Mr. Bingley had been in Town at the same time Elizabeth had been in London. Bingley’s circle of friends had not been the same circle of friends which Lady Emma enjoyed, so the parties which Elizabeth had been invited to had not included any of the ones which Mr. Bingley attended.

  She speculated that that said a lot about Mr. Darcy’s status in life and a lot about Mr. Bingley’s as well, that he was not as well known. There had been discussions already among some of her neighbors that Mr. Bingley, though wealthy, had the taint of someone whose wealth came from trade. He had not been born into a gentleman’s household, but his father and grandfather had made their money in trade.

  Had Mr. Darcy deliberately encouraged Mr. Bingley to consider leasing Netherfield Hall that he might affect a chance to encounter Elizabeth? Was he so…? Elizabeth paused in her thoughts. She could not say ‘in love,’ not even in her thoughts, so she changed the manner of her thinking. Did Mr. Darcy admire her so much that he would encourage a friend to lease a house so that he might seek her out? Obviously, the friend must have wished to lease a house. Friendship does not extend, even among the wealthy, to leasing houses on whims just for the pursuit of women or happiness. Mr. Bingley would not do such a thing just to support Mr. Darcy’s happiness.

  But her neighbors were taken with Mr. Darcy. The amazement from those friends that Elizabeth had secured such an illustrious partner was evident; she was satisfied and proud as they gazed at Elizabeth standing across from this stranger in their midst. But Elizabeth had eyes only for the man across from her.

  “I realize, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said to him. “In all our time together, we have never danced.”

  “That is true, Miss Bennet. I never had the pleasure before of dancing with you,” Darcy smiled at her again. She thought for the twelfth or twentieth or hundredth time how much pleasure a smile from him gave her.

  He danced well, but Elizabeth expected nothing less. It was a quadrille, which did not necessarily allow for conversation. She had to inquire after all of her London friends, and Elizabeth asked first about his cousins and then after other acquaintance. He answered that everyone was well, though he added that Colonel Fitzwilliam remained busy with his general. Once those requirements were over, Elizabeth was free to ask more open-ended questions, and as the dance permitted, she probed Mr. Darcy with other inquiries.

  “Are you to remain in the neighborhood long?” asked Elizabeth.

  “I have come for the shooting,” was his reply. She thought that it was a Mr. Darcy-sort of reply. He did not answer yes or no but stated his business.

  “Was Mr. Bingley in London when I was staying there? I seem to recall your mentioning his name once or twice,” she asked then.

  “He was,” answered her partner.

  “I am surprised that I did not meet him,” said Elizabeth.

  “He was quite occupied at the time,” replied Mr. Darcy, though he did not share how Mr. Bingley had been occupied, “but I was diverted from my usual routine by Emma, to escort her around.”

  “Is that all, Mr. Darcy?” she prompted.

  “And to escort you to the Park,” Darcy admitted. He had an interesting look on his face, almost sheepish, as though he did not wish to bring up those trips to the park which they had enjoyed together, just the two of them. At least, not yet. “How very suddenly you quitted London, Miss Bennet.”

  Elizabeth was going to ask him a different question but was distracted by his question to her.

  “Yes, my father remarried and, in typical fashion, gave me no forewarning, but instead sent me a letter with only two days’ notice that I should return if I wished to attend his wedding.” There was a laugh at the end of her speech.

  Darcy thought that it was a subject which pained her a little. He was not certain if it was the fact that her father had not shared his news, or if it was because she had been called away from London and their ti
me together. Darcy wished he could ask a question which would let her answer more fully about their time, those last few days especially, and her feelings towards him.

  Elizabeth had been wrenched from his side, and not a day had passed when he did not think of her. This country miss, with her country charms, her country fashions, and her country smile; all of which beguiled him. Darcy had kept an eye in the papers for that wedding announcement and had seen it, very short and succinct.

  Mr. T. Bennet, widower & Mrs. A. Meeks, widow. Meryton, Herts.

  That had been it. Then Darcy had done something that indicated what a love-sick fool he was; he had opened up a map book and turned the pages to find exactly where Meryton lay. Darcy soon found his fingers tracing roads all around Hertfordshire. He knew a corner of it, the one near Langley, his uncle’s estate. But he did not know the roads and fields where this Meryton lay, as if waiting for him to visit.

  For over a week, every day, Darcy would open up that map book and stare at that tiny dot as he considered Elizabeth Bennet’s residence somewhere in that town and the fact that she had slipped away from him. How could he effect to meet her again?

  Bingley fell out of love again, like Bingley always fell out of love. His friend was miserable and depressed and beside himself for a lady who proved she could not claim to be as virtuous and graceful as Bingley had imagined her to be. The heat baked London and Georgiana begged him to come home to Pemberley, so Darcy gathered his friend to him to cool off at his estate for the summer.

  Pemberley had the effect of inspiring his friend, like it often did, to purchase his own estate. It was a decision which Bingley discussed whenever he came for a visit, though his nature was one which would discuss something at length, of an evening, then become distracted by his next thought, or with an activity suggested by a friend. His execution was often wanting (though there was no more loyal friend).