by Anne Morris
Miss Church looked at Elizabeth, "I believe you must be the same age as me, I am two and twenty. Perhaps you are even older?" she said it with a smile, but not with a smile that indicated that she was happy, but with smugness at being younger.
"You are quite right; I am actually four and twenty, as I had my birthday last week," replied Elizabeth.
Miss Phoebe made a face then which reminded Elizabeth of Lydia, "do you not hate this as we grow older and are yet unmarried? I believe I shall die if I do not marry before my next birthday. My sister married at seventeen!"
Elizabeth looked at her, "not at all. I am content with my life and its rhythms."
"But what would happen if you did not marry?" The concern in Miss Church's voice was evident.
"Live on the good graces of my brother," replied Elizabeth.
"And he would take care of you?" asked Phoebe Church.
Elizabeth could tell that her new companion was mortified at the idea of never marrying, and did not subscribe to this same point of view about her future. Phoebe Church's only goal in life was marriage, to not succeed at that would mean total and utter failure, so she continued on with her point by admiring all the gentlemen in the room. She started by saying that Mrs. Peterson had been such a good friend to her mother, and that her brothers and Mrs. Peterson's sons were good friends. As such, Mrs. Peterson had taken Miss Church under her wing. Because of her husband's position, Mrs. Peterson had been able to introduce Miss Church to a number of eligible young men. In point of fact, there had been a young man last fall who had paid his addresses to her, though nothing came of it.
Elizabeth wondered what sort of accomplishments this young lady had to offer; she was pretty, but not beyond the ordinary prettiness with reddish gold hair, and a sort of hazel-colored eyes. She did not seem highly educated, nor did she appear to have used her extra years—those beyond the age of a governess—for study. She was more of the type to pursue pleasure than study. Elizabeth wondered if Mr. Wolton-Fane had been introduced as a potential suitor for her, as secretary to Mr. Peterson he was considering his own candidacy and would want an intelligent wife. Phoebe Church, however, would not be that sort of wife. She might do as an officer's wife, but then an officer would be looking for a lady with a good dowry, and Elizabeth had no idea what sort of fortune Miss Church had.
There was Mr. Spencer and Reverend Tiploft, and Elizabeth was more inclined to think, given Phoebe's hints, that they had been selected as eligible young men for Miss Church and not Mr. Wolton-Fane who might simply have been invited because he was Mr. Peterson's secretary. Miss Church did not seem inclined to consider a schoolmaster or a clergyman, and she sniffed at them both, and even went so far as to say of Reverend Tiploft, "he is so old, he must be past thirty."
Elizabeth could not help but ask, "well, what do you think of Mr. Spencer?" because he had a dour expression on his face just then, and was the least handsome of the men. Miss Church was not inclined to talk about what she disliked of the men, but she did have an instant favorite.
"That Mr. Darcy is so handsome, and it is my understanding that he is a very wealthy man!" Elizabeth had forgotten about Mr. Darcy, but had to acknowledge that both her points were true.
"Have you met him before?" asked Miss Church with surprise. Elizabeth acknowledged that she had, and that he had come to her little part of the country in the fall, for a number of weeks with a friend who had let a house for the shooting.
"How is it that you did not fall in love with him?" cried Miss Church.
"I have found that I do not care for the gentleman," answered Elizabeth.
"How can you not care for him? He is handsome and rich! What else is there to recommend him, to recommend any gentleman?" cried the young lady.
"There is more to a gentleman, more to any person than their face and the depth of their pockets," replied Elizabeth, "their character, their manners, and the depth of your admiration—your love—for them."
She could tell that her new acquaintance simply did not understand, and it was at this point that Mrs. Peterson called for the card tables, and let them know there would be two of Whist and one of Loo since they were fourteen. The two youngest ladies latched on to the redcoats and instantly formed a table. Elizabeth and Phoebe Church had smiled at their hostess, and Mrs. Peterson apparently had pointed ideas and called out to Mr. Spencer and Reverend Tiploft for all of them to play together, so it was decided for the four of them to form a table. Elizabeth understood where she was ranked in Mrs. Peterson's eyes that she was to be paired with the schoolteacher and the clergyman, while Mrs. Peterson reserved Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wolton-Fane for herself.
The card game passed rather quickly, and Elizabeth had a delightful time. She enjoyed Reverend Tiploft's company though she reserved judgment on Mr. Spencer's character. Mr. Spencer was the type of man who seemed overly talkative as though he was used to standing in front of a room full of boys, having their rapt attention, and not being interrupted, so he talked continually at the table. He thought rather highly of himself because of his station in life. She wondered at his taking up such a venture—being a schoolmaster—and assumed he was good at his job and enjoyed it, that he had chosen it over the same profession as Reverend Tiploft since it seemed a step down in life for a gentleman.
Elizabeth noticed, by the end of the evening, that there were two conversations at her table, one where Mr. Spencer talked and Miss Church listened and tittered and encouraged him, and a side conversation that consisted of more intelligent talk between Reverend Tiploft and herself. Though altogether she could not say she had an unpleasant time. She glanced over at Lydia who was obviously enjoying herself with her friend and the soldiers, and her mother's laughter indicated that Mrs. Bennet was indeed having an enjoyable evening.
• • •
Darcy had anticipated an evening of cards, one in which his sister could participate, so he stopped short when they arrived, and looked about the room, and a room which appeared to have a far higher number of young men than he had anticpated. He heard his sister's gasp of delight as she looked at the assembled company before her.
"Miss Darcy, Mr. Darcy!" cried Mrs. Peterson. It was obvious from the smugness of her voice that they were the prize guests that evening. "I am so delighted you could come." She introduced her husband who was not known to Darcy. Mr. Peterson had always been busy with his constituency. With her arm on Georgiana, their hostess escorted the pair around the room. There was a young man—he looked like a gentleman based solely on the way he tied his cravat—a Mr. Wolton-Fane, who was a secretary to Mr. Peterson. He was of like age to Darcy with a charm that bordered on a swagger. His eyes lit up when they alighted on his sister, and he was all smiles and charm before her. Darcy could tell his sister was thrilled with the attention.
Next was a parson who paled in comparison. He was not the old and senile type, but somewhere between thirty and forty, and who said all that was correct. There were two red-coated officers, Captain Gage and Captain Wylde, who truly made Georgiana's face brighten, and his own frown. She bantered playfully with them in a manner that amazed Darcy. He wondered where she had learned such playful talk. Was it something she practiced with Mrs. Younge?
His own eyes moved farther into the room—apparently his hostess had taken to introducing the gentlemen first as Elizabeth Bennet stood speaking to Mrs. King and another young lady while Lydia Bennet and her mother spoke to one last gentleman.
This gentleman's clothes were not as fine as that of Mr. Peterson, or Mr. Wolton-Fane. Darcy was lost for a few minutes wondering about the man's occupation and missed his hostess' calls to form tables for cards. Because there were fourteen of them (his hostess had apologized, though only half-heartedly for this, she had obviously invited those people she wanted) there were unequal tables of cards and people. Darcy found himself playing Loo with the three matrons, Mr. Peterson and his secretary. It was not where he wished to be. The matrons chatted about children and chickens, and it seemed Mr. Peters
on spent far too much time speaking as a politician to waste words in his private life—he barely uttered a word. Mr. Wolton-Fane, however, was far more talkative.
Wolton-Fane was a gentleman with a small estate, though he worked in that secretarial position for Mr. Peterson. Darcy thought he must like the busyness of the life of politics since he did not have to work. A secretarial post was often a job for a younger son, and despite initial misgivings about the man, there was a companionable discussion over cards between them. He noticed that, after a while, Mr. Wolton-Fane's attention strayed to the Whist tables. In particular, to the one where Elizabeth Bennet and Miss King's daughter played with the parson and that other gentleman. Apparently, Mr. Wolton-Fane also felt betrayed by the way the tables had been chosen, or perhaps he had some loyalty to his employer that he stayed near Peterson as much as possible. He was not; however, entirely immune to the attentions of the young ladies, and the chatter from the three older women had to be wearing. Darcy wondered which of the two women held his interest, Miss Bennet or Miss Church?
• • •
It was the supper party that cemented Georgiana and Lydia's friendship. Lydia was elated to have a friend in Scarborough. From that point on, they had almost daily plans for their ventures around the city. Elizabeth was thankful that Miss Darcy still had a companion with her, so it was not necessary that her brother escort her every day, and most of her encounters with Miss Darcy did not include having the bother of seeing Mr. Darcy.
There were trips to all of the shops; Scarborough was quite a large town, far larger than Meryton. Lydia seemed well supplied with pin money which she had been slipped to her by her mother. There were trips to look at ribbons, and buttons, and that very bonnet shop that she had so admired her first day was visited, and the two girls came away with new bonnets.
There was also one trip to a store where they admired shawls, and Lydia had begged and begged to be lent money to buy one which matched Georgiana's newly purchased one. But Elizabeth felt the cost far exceeded anything Lydia should be spending; Elizabeth had seen the wind whip the shawls right off of the shoulders of ladies and watched them blow over the side of the terrace, only to be lost in the sea. She could only imagine such an occurrence happening with her sister. But Lydia could only see Georgiana spending money with an abandon that made her jealous, particularly when she understood the true disparity between their fortunes. Georgiana had a dowry of thirty thousand pounds to her one thousand, and Lydia reflected how grossly unfair life was.
There were trips to the shoe and boot maker, for with all the walking about they wore down their shoe leather, and decided they needed boots. They purchased subscriptions to the lending library, and then there were many subsequent visits to pick out books with such titles as Cruel Disappointment, Frederick, or the Libertine, or Unguarded Moments. The two young women could sit next to each other reading, giggling, and sharing whispered confidences about what they found beneath the pages of those books.
One day, when they were out walking—Lydia, Georgiana, Elizabeth and Mrs. Younge—a lady approached Elizabeth. "Mrs. Benton is it not?"
Elizabeth assured her she had the wrong person. The lady apologized profusely. "Excuse me!" she turned away but then turned back, "I am sure you are Mrs. Benton, were you not here a few years back, visiting Scarborough?"
"I have been here before," explained Elizabeth, "but I assure you, that you have the wrong person. I am not married; this is my younger sister and our friends." The lady was even more apologetic, excused herself and walked away.
"What a rude person," said Lydia and as she often did she made a face.
"She just was mistaken," exclaimed Elizabeth.
"The names are similar," said Mrs. Younge.
"I suppose you are correct," said Elizabeth with a slight smile, "perhaps I have the sort of face that is familiar to people? I have, once before, had someone mistake me for an acquaintance."
"I think that would be very rude to have someone walk up to me off of the street and simply speak to me," said Miss Darcy, who stopped to think more about it, "really, that is too odd, very insulting!."
"But if it was an acquaintance, would you not like to renew it?" asked Elizabeth.
"I suppose, but as I have so few acquaintance, I do not know what it is like to renew one," said Miss Darcy, "which is why I am so glad we have become such good friends." She smiled at Lydia.
"Shall we walk along the Spa Terrace again today?" asked Lydia.
"It is so windy today," Elizabeth attempted to discourage them, "I am afraid we will lose our bonnets."
"Yes, but there are always so many officers out there!" cried Lydia. Elizabeth lost her point, and they walked to the end of the terrace and back again before heading to Silver House.
• • •
A letter from Jane was over a week in coming. The Gardiners, Jane, Mary, and Catherine had settled into Mrs. Perkin's house, though it seemed to Elizabeth that they must surely be bursting at the seams with the Gardiner children, and the three Bennet daughters all under that roof. Jane, however, mentioned nothing about the tightness of the accommodations beyond saying that she and Mary were sharing a room, and that Catherine found herself sharing with the eldest Gardiner child—a girl of eight—as the nursery could just handle the other three children plus the nursery maid and governess.
Mrs. Perkins is a lively lady, despite her age, warm and gracious to have invited us to stay! We have had an excess of rain, so have mostly stayed indoors, which suited Mary just fine to practice and to sketch, but Catherine has been anxious to explore, and has used what brief periods of sunshine we have had to walk around our little neighborhood. Going down to the beach to see the sea has, so far, been out of the question, but Kitty remains hopeful that we shall have the opportunity to do so soon.
There were some further words about each of their little cousins. She concluded with:
I hope, dear Lizzy, that you have enjoyed your own sojourn away from home, and the chance to expand your horizons a little. Do not fret so much about us—we are all well, and enjoying ourselves, though we do miss you, Lydia, Simon, and Mamma.
• • •
Lydia had introduced Georgiana to a certain fascination with officers, and it seemed that every day the two added to their knowledge of them. Miss Simnel discouraged this as much as she could, but Mrs. Younge—who was a widow—had been married to a naval officer, so had a liking for men serving in the armed forces, even if she knew she should not encourage such behavior in her young charge.
Mrs. Bennet arranged a supper part of their own, with the same set of people, though they had come to know more of the local army officers. They did not, however, know many more ladies to keep the balance even. Mrs. Bennet had suggested to Elizabeth that they not invite Mrs. King and Miss Church so as to make the numbers come out even for the card tables, but Elizabeth said there would be more men than women then—which was likely her mother's point. Elizabeth would not budge, so the same set of people gathered again at Silver House for an evening of cards and supper.
Miss Church latched onto her as soon as she arrived, as though wishing to promote the acquaintance, and they spoke together, or rather, her guest chattered on about all of her little parties and amusements in the past few days, detailing the young men she had met. Elizabeth listened patiently though finally interrupting her when the Petersons arrived to greet them, Mr. Wolton-Fane, and Mr. Spencer who had come with them in their carriage.
"Not that I do not have one of my own," said Mr. Spencer, looking pointedly at Elizabeth. "I am well able to afford one, but the Petersons have been so gracious as to offer me a seat in theirs." He smiled then, and she felt the gesture relieved the plain face.
"I, alas, have no proper carriage," whispered a voice. She turned to Mr. Wolton-Fane at her side, and raised an eyebrow.
"Truly?" she said, and his eyes danced in amusement.
"I am mincing words, Miss Bennet, as I do own a curricle—but no proper carriage that
I might be offering up extra seats to my friends—I only have the one extra."
"Are you a good friend to sometimes be offering up that seat?" she asked, her own eyes joining in now.
"Not at all, I rarely do. Only to the most special of my friends," he replied, his face breaking out into a grin then.
The two captains arrived to complete their little party for the evening. Elizabeth knew her mother had plans as to how the tables should be laid out, with the two youngest to play at Loo, that there might be a third gentleman in their party if Elizabeth would join them.
Elizabeth was not one to give in to such obvious manipulations, and protested when her mother suggested she play at that table, but Mr. Wolton-Fane invited her over saying he would play as well which broke her resolve. She spared a quick glance at Miss Church to see that lady's face light up as she took a seat with Mr. Darcy, then thought no more of the others as she lost herself in speaking to Mr. Wolton-Fane.
It was rare that she found herself so lost in conversation with another. At home, in Meryton, she knew all of her neighbors' abilities to hold a meaningful conversation. There were not many, and most of the time she spent observing those little foibles and absurdities of her neighbors, as a means of amusing herself to pass the time. But here was an extremely intelligent man, and their conversation eclipsed their card-playing abilities, but neither seemed to care. Their neighbors did not appear to mind if the pair lost too many hands, and they reaped the rewards of their neglect.
• • •
Mr. Darcy attempted to concentrate on his tricks, but he thought of the perverse luck to be saddled with the three most prolific talkers of the party—and those with not much substance to their conversation. He felt he had exhausted his observation of Mrs. Bennet—there was nothing new to be seen there. Miss Church was so exactly like any other young and empty-headed woman who thought wide smiles and false compliments were all a man wished to hear from a woman.