Red Moon Over Meryton

by Emma Osborne

  She tucked her accessories under her arm and straightened her shoulders before going back to Kitty and Lydia’s room. Lydia was preening before the looking glass, fluttering her new fan and batting her eyelashes in Jane’s direction. Kitty’s cheeks were pink with frustration and her ribbons were clutched tightly in her fists.

  “Lydia, please get up! Mama will come to fetch us and I am nowhere near ready to leave!” Lydia sighed in disgust and reluctantly vacated the chair so that Kitty could sit. Kitty threw herself into the seat, held out her ribbons and began reciting specific instructions as to how she wanted her hair styled. Elizabeth released a sigh and placed her gloves and fan on the bed before handing Kitty the reticule and taking up her place behind the chair. Kitty squealed with delight over the reticule, and busied herself with putting her fan and dance card inside while Elizabeth pulled a hairbrush through her younger sister’s curls. Kitty cried out sharply as the brush caught a snarl, and Lydia snickered from her seat on the bed. Elizabeth shot a stern look at Lydia who covered her mouth with a gloved hand.

  Jane gathered up her things and pulled Lydia from the bed, “we will wait for you in the parlor. I will try to keep Mama distracted.” Elizabeth smiled gratefully and focused on Kitty’s hair once more.

  * * *

  “Kitty! Lizzy! We will be late! The carriage is here, now stop your foolishness and come down!” Kitty fidgeted in her seat at the sound of her mother’s voice, and Elizabeth pushed the final pin into her sister’s hair.

  “There. Go down and placate Mama. I will be there in a moment.” Kitty thanked Elizabeth, kissed her quickly on the cheek and raced down the stairs in a very unladylike manner, leaving Elizabeth to add some flowers to her own hair, and then gather her gloves and fan.

  “Lizzy!” Mrs. Bennet’s shout carried up the stairs and Elizabeth sighed. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and left the room, still very much undecided as to whether or not she wanted to attend this ball at all. She had a bad feeling about all of it. It was a feeling that she could not explain, but she could not chase it away either. Perhaps Charlotte would be able to lend her a sympathetic ear. Elizabeth resolved to take her friend aside at the ball and speak to her about her fears... Charlotte’s practical nature had come in very useful in the past, and Elizabeth had no doubt that her serious friend would be able to offer some advice.

  Mrs. Bennet fixed Elizabeth with a stern look as she came down the stairs, and Elizabeth ducked her head and moved quickly to the carriage that waited in the courtyard. Mary, Lydia, Kitty and Jane were already seated comfortably, and Elizabeth squeezed in as best she could, her mother following closely. Almost as soon as she was seated, the carriage lurched into motion and Elizabeth was surrounded by the excited chatter of her eager younger sisters. Netherfield Park was not far away, only three miles. But Elizabeth found herself dreading their arrival.

  Chapter 5

  Charles Bingley was alight with excitement. This was the first ball he had ever hosted, and while Louisa and Caroline had done the majority of the planning, they had leaned heavily upon the assistance of Lady Lucas when it came to engaging the very best musicians available, and Caroline had been insistent on making the ball a masquerade ball. However, she had decided this after the invitations were written and sent out, so it would be a surprise for the guests to be greeted by masked servants. She had ordered them especially from a shop in London and Charles had been rendered speechless by the beauty of the items that appeared when Caroline had excitedly opened the boxes that arrived just in time for the event.

  “You must choose your mask now, Charles, and you Mr. Darcy.” Caroline pulled a gilded mask depicting a fantastical ancient sun goddess from the box and held it over her face briefly before trading it for an equally fine representation of a sphinx. Darcy’s chuckle made Caroline pull the mask away from her face.

  “Perhaps not that one, Caroline. You will frighten away all of the young men seeking a witty conversation partner.” Caroline huffed angrily at Darcy’s words.

  “Are you implying that I speak only in riddles, Mr. Darcy?” Darcy shook his head, but did not reply, there was no sense in baiting Caroline, she was always ready for a fight, and much like the sphynx in her hand, and her words could often be as sharp as her claws. With a sour expression on her face, she pulled another mask from the box and held it out to Darcy.

  “Perhaps a Fool for you, Mr. Darcy?” She flicked a bell that dangled from the mask and a sly smile slid across her face. Darcy, however, seemed to be deaf to her thinly veiled insult, and he peered into the box for himself.

  “I believe I will choose something on the night. I have no need to plan my attire as some might.” Darcy reached down to stroke the feathers of a mask in the shape of a wolf’s dark muzzle, and then he straightened and walked towards the high windows, staring out towards the woods that embraced Netherfield’s parklands. With a sigh of annoyance, Caroline tossed the mask back into the box and crossed her arms over her chest, staring intently at Darcy as he walked away from her.

  “Come now, Caroline. Make your choice so that we may leave Mrs. Lakewood to the arrangement of the masks for our guests. This will be most enjoyable, I have no doubt.” Charles was tired of Caroline’s prickly demeanor; it was too early in the day for such talk.

  “I believe we can safely say that it will be the first masquerade ball to occur in this part of the country.” Caroline’s smile was frosty, and Charles felt heat rise to his neck. His younger sister was often in a foul mood, and now that he was spending more time with her and Louisa, it was beginning to get on his nerves more than he liked to admit. Darcy seemed to be immune to her moods, and Charles was suddenly envious of his friend’s unflappable disposition.

  “I am sure you are correct, Caroline, which is why everything must be perfect. We want to make the best impression possible on our new neighbors.” Caroline sighed and reached into the box once more, the sun goddess mask held in her hands once more. Charles gave her an encouraging smile and gestured for the waiting Mrs. Lakewood to take the boxes away. The masks would be hung from velvet curtains so that guests could select their personality for the evening.

  Preparations for the ball swirled through the house and Charles fought his nervousness. Lady Lucas and her daughter Charlotte had been most accommodating, and while Charlotte was of a similar age to Louisa, she was unmarried and had been pleasant company during the planning of the event. Louisa had been the first to comment on Miss Lucas’ involvement.

  “She seems to be a stern sort of young woman, but she is helpful and kind… and entirely agreeable in a practical sort of way.” Charles had been uncomfortable at Louisa’s observations, and wondered if his elder sister was conspiring to have him engaged to the young woman before he had gotten a chance to meet any of the other young ladies in Hertfordshire. Besides that, he was not even sure if he wanted to be married just yet. Louisa’s own marriage was not ideal, but she bore it with more patience than he could muster for Mr. Hurst. He had thanked Louisa for her recommendation, and he supposed that he would dance with Miss Lucas at least once before the ball was ended to thank her for her assistance. However, he could not deny that he had also heard that a Mr. Bennet was in possession of no less than five daughters, and that the eldest of them was closest to his own age.

  He did not mention his interest in the Bennet family, but he had been most grateful to receive Mr. Bennet who had come to visit and welcome him to Netherfield Park. The man was well read and pleasant, and Charles was looking forward to meeting his daughters. Their late father, who had been in business with the elder Mr. Hurst, had seen to the arrangements of Louisa’s wedding, and Charles was thankful to have been spared a similar arrangement. Perhaps if he had been witness to his parents own happy marriage he would have felt differently about the whole affair. Sadly, his mother had died when he was young, and Louisa seemed only to tolerate Mr. Hurst… hardly the paragons of the married bliss. What if a happy marriage did not exist after all?

  C
harles shook his head and strode from the parlor, leaving Caroline to her mood, and Darcy to his contemplation of the forest. He did not need to ask his friend what was on his mind; their mad dash through the trees weighed heavily on his mind. He had woken in the night, haunted by nightmares of the pounding of the hooves of the frightened deer and the screams of his horse as they raced through the woods to the safety of the open grass that led to Netherfield. But in his dream, the forest stretched on and on in front of them, and they gained no ground. Sharp teeth snapped at their horses’ slender legs, inching closer with each step… and then he would wake covered in sweat, his heart pounding in his chest and the sound of the forest in his ears.

  The courtyard was thick with carriages and lit with large torches and vibrant paper lanterns, and guests filled the stairs that led up to the ballroom. Mr. Bingley had made use of Netherfield Park’s opulent gardens and thrown wide the doors of the conservatory, which acted as the entrance to the ball. Elizabeth and her sisters stared at the footman who approached to open their carriage door. He wore a mask that covered half of his face in rich green velvet. His dark eyes shone in the torchlight and Elizabeth felt a blush rising to her cheeks.

  The footmen who rushed around attending to the guests and guiding them up the stairs to the glass doors of the conservatory were all wearing masks, and while it was a strange sight, it was immediately enchanting.

  “Whatever do you make of all of this, Lizzy?” Jane’s eyes were wide, and her voice was filled with expectant eagerness, and Elizabeth deduced that her elder sister was thinking about the young man who could have organized such an event. Charlotte’s lavish birthday dance was nothing to this Netherfield ball.

  Music spilled from the open doors, and as Elizabeth and Jane walked up the stairs, she suddenly wished that she had worn something a little finer than the dress she had chosen. At least her gloves were new. Jane looked luminous in the lantern light, and even Mary had some pink in her cheeks. Mrs. Bennet’s exclamations over every detail of their approach seemed to echo in the dark, and several people turned to look at their party over their shoulders. Elizabeth suppressed the urge to attempt to quiet her mother’s enthusiasm, but she knew it would be impossible.

  Jane’s hand tightened on her arm, and Elizabeth looked ahead at the conservatory entrance. The glasshouse was thick with hanging vines and exotic flowers, and the perfume of the lilies was thick in the air. Elizabeth inhaled deeply and closed her eyes.

  “Is it not magnificent, Lizzy? What a spectacular idea for an entry. I never would have imagined it would be like this.” Elizabeth smiled and opened her eyes as Jane continued her hushed praise. “If this is the entryway, I cannot begin to imagine what the ballroom will look like!”

  Masked footmen directed them towards the entrance to the ballroom; a large section of the hallway was hung with lengths of heavy brocade suspended from the ceiling, separating it from the rest of the house an effectively keeping guests from roaming the halls of Netherfield Park unattended. Masks in all shapes and sizes covered the curtains, and the footmen directed them to choose one that caught their fancy. The exclamations of delight all around her came from old and young, male and female alike. None of them had ever attended a masked ball before, and Elizabeth had a feeling that it would be the talk of the town for some time.

  Lydia rushed forward to choose a mask that was painted in the likeness of a delicate china doll, with perfect lips painted into a sultry Cupid’s bow and pale pink crystals perfectly placed along the edges to catch the candlelight. Kitty pouted briefly as Lydia affixed the mask to her face before choosing a plain but elegant half-mask with colors that matched the ribbons on her dress, and gold accents that brought out the tawny highlights in her hair.

  More masks were chosen, a swan, a peacock, a jester with bells on its hat, a pirate with an elegant cowl attached to the mask to sweep across the shoulders, birds, creatures of all kinds, fantastical and real alike… there was entirely too much to choose from. Mrs. Bennet took a feathered half-mask, and Mary settled upon one that looked suspiciously like an owl, and Elizabeth shook her head at the appropriateness of her sister’s decision. She tied the ribbon on Jane’s mask; an elegant half-mask, a pale yellow and blue affair decorated with crystals and painted lines that called to mind the graceful butterflies that flitted through the Longbourn gardens.

  “What about you, Lizzie? Will you let me choose?” Elizabeth paused a moment, and then nodded as Jane turned back to the curtain and retrieved a mask that Elizabeth had not seen initially. A half-mask in silver and white, with a silver crescent moon on the forehead. Elizabeth looked at it curiously, but Jane was insistent.

  “You wore white tonight, Lizzy; you never wear white to dances. Tonight you will be Selene, goddess of the moon!” Elizabeth smiled weakly and felt her cheeks redden as she turned so that Jane could secure the mask to her face.

  “There. Come to the looking glass, you will see that I have chosen well for you. Look how the silver shines against your hair.” Elizabeth allowed herself to be led to the large mirror that had been placed so that guests could admire their new personality before entering the ballroom. Jane was right, the silver mask fairly glowed in the candle light, and she could not suppress a shiver of delight at the thought that she would be almost anonymous to anyone who asked her to dance tonight.

  They would not know that she was Elizabeth Bennet, second eldest of five daughters and in possession of a meagre allowance to recommend her to any worthy bachelor who might seek her company. Tonight she could be a mystery. Lydia in her doll’s face was already on the dance floor, and Kitty stood nearby, a young officer bowing at the waist before asking her to the next dance. A smile crept across her lips as she entered the room with Jane at her elbow.

  The room was filled with candlelight; the masked musicians were elevated from the dance floor on a makeshift stage that was surrounded by exotic flowers and greenery from the conservatory. The same brocade that had created the entranceway was hung from the ceilings to create columns of dark fabric that couples swirled between and hid behind for a private conversation. A pair of officers, one in a crimson mask that concealed his face and the other in a beaked mask that made Elizabeth chuckle approached them. The men bowed gracefully and offered their hands, Jane took the hand of the man in the scarlet mask without hesitation, but Elizabeth declined her invitation. The young man nodded, and smiled at her from under the half-mask, and turned to the young lady to Elizabeth’s right, who accepted his hand and followed him to the dance floor.

  Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief, the masks were a novelty indeed, but somehow she felt that it would be preferable to see the face of her dance partner. She looked through the crowd for her mother, who had taken up a position near the high windows and was holding court with her friends. Mary was sitting nearby, a glass of wine in her hand, but although Elizabeth could not see her sister’s face, she hoped that Mary was enjoying herself. Jane had been abandoned by her officer and had begun dancing with a tall, fair-haired young man in a long dark coat who was wearing a fox mask, its colors picked out in a mix of vibrant feathers and white velvet. Elizabeth smiled faintly, Jane seemed happy with the change in partners, and Elizabeth could see the pink of her cheeks under the delicate edge of her mask. The young man had a ready smile, and he appeared to be keeping Jane entertained with conversation as well as his skill on the dance floor.

  Elizabeth took a step back, ready to join her mother and perhaps find Charlotte, when she found herself staring directly at the black uniformed chest of a militia officer. She apologized profusely and looked up at the man she had jostled. A black mask in the shape of a wolf’s face looked down at her, and Elizabeth swallowed hard. The man’s eyes were pale and unsettling, and the sharp shape of his jawline was accentuated by the cut of the mask. He was silent, and Elizabeth wondered if he had heard her apology. She murmured it again, and fidgeted nervously with her gloves as the man raked his eyes over her body. Long moments passed, and Elizabeth felt ea
ch one as though it were an eternity, and she was suddenly thankful for the mask that hid the furious blush of embarrassment that stained her cheeks.

  All at once, the man bowed sharply, and Elizabeth realized that a group of identically dressed officers, all in dark jackets with silver brocade and buttons, and all wearing similarly lupine masks attended him. They all bowed in her direction and Elizabeth felt a shiver rush down her spine. The leader of the group kept his coldly pale eyes upon her as he rose, and without a word the men turned and walked towards the dance floor, choosing partners as they went. Kitty appeared eager to take one as her partner, and Elizabeth bit her lip as she realized that these men were familiar. She had seen them in town just the other day, dressed in ill-fitted uniforms and looking unkempt and wild… the Prussian cadre, it must be.

  “It is not often that one may observe the true nature of the people around them…” Elizabeth turned quickly, surprised by the quiet voice behind her. A man in an elegantly tailored jacket and an emerald green mask that was decorated with silken ivy leaves that cascaded over the cowl that was slung almost carelessly across his broad shoulders stood before her, his eyes not on her, but on the assembled guests. Elizabeth followed his dark blue eyes to the dance floor where her sisters danced.

  “I cannot guess what you mean, sir. These are simply masks… nothing more.” The man looked thoughtful for a moment and then gestured at the dance floor.

  “I beg to differ, madam. You see that couple there?” He had singled out Jane and her partner, and Elizabeth felt her heartbeat quicken. She nodded in reply and he continued; “that young lady, for example, has chosen a butterfly for her mask. Thereby, I deduce that she is a handsome woman, though somewhat ornamental in her capacity… the young man at her side fancies himself as something of a cunning fellow, but that may or may not be the case. However, it is clear that they are not well matched, and that he is of a different species than she in more than one way…” Elizabeth looked at the man at her side incredulously. How dare he assume such things about Jane without knowing her, or even knowing her name?