Pride in Meryton, page 11
“Today is the 15th, Sir,” the servant responded nervously.
Darcy stared at the servant, then at the date on the newspaper and back again at the servant. Realizing that his circumstances had indeed not changed after all, he formulated an excuse: “Yes, of course. It seems that I have lost all sense of time here in the country.” He thanked the servant and was left alone.
He contemplated his current predicament: “What is causing this most remarkable repetition of this most excruciating day?” He thought back over the days of his life and recalled several that would be better candidates for repetition than this one: “Fishing with Father; getting my first horse; my first trip to the continent; graduating from Cambridge – all excellent days! Any one of those days would be a far better choice for repetition than this one!” However, in reflection, he noticed that all of those days were well in his past; some ten years or more! Since the death of his parents, he could not recall a time in his life that he truly cherished. Even the birth of his dear sister was marred by the passing of his beloved mother. This reflection, however, provided no insight into the cause of his current predicament.
Resolving to make the best of a bad situation, he left his chamber, went to the breakfast parlour and greeted his hosts. “What a beautiful day in the country!” he exclaimed. “Do you not agree, Mrs. Hurst?” he asked, noting that he had never really tried to engage her or her husband in conversation. They spent the next hour discussing the beauties of the countryside, country fashions and their anticipation of the country ball they were to attend that evening.
When they arrived at the assembly that evening, Darcy smiled broadly and walked briskly into the room, eager to dance. Sir William approached him and offered to introduce him to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who he described as “the jewel of the county”. He gazed at her more carefully while they were being introduced and noticed the brightness of her eyes and her spirit. She seemed to be quite lively; he asked her to dance and she graciously accepted. He remembered that she enjoyed conversation during the dance and asked her: “Is your family in attendance this evening, Miss Elizabeth?”
She smiled brightly and replied: “Yes, Sir, my four sisters are here as well as my mother. My father is at home in his library, enjoying the company of his books,” she told him as she continued the dance.
“I also enjoy spending time in the library. Do you enjoy reading, Miss Elizabeth?” he asked.
“Oh yes, Sir, I read everything I can find. It is my most favoured pastime – that and walking; I am very fond of walking,” she replied.
“I enjoy walking but I prefer to ride. Are you also fond of riding, Miss Elizabeth?” he asked her, noticing how much at ease he felt with her. Conversing while dancing did not seem to be all that challenging to him now; however, he failed to notice that everyone else in the room was doing exactly the same.
“I wish it were so, but unfortunately horses are not fond of me. I have been kicked, bitten and thrown more times than I can remember. I think I shall maintain walking as my favoured pastime,” she told him cheerfully. He could not recall any woman of his acquaintance who would consider telling a story of being abused by horses with such liveliness and good humour.
At the end of the dance, he escorted Elizabeth to the refreshment table where he was introduced to her mother: “Oh, Mr. Darcy, it is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance. I do hope you enjoyed dancing with Elizabeth. She is an excellent dancer, is she not?”
“She is a delightful dancer, Mrs. Bennet,” he agreed. “Quite delightful indeed!” thought he. “May I offer you ladies some refreshments?” he asked, and they graciously accepted. He picked up two cups of punch and decided to get a third for himself. When he turned back to them, he bumped into a man passing by and spilled all three cups on Mrs. Bennet, who reacted with an ear-piercing shriek. The man passing by spilled his punch on Elizabeth, who reacted with an exuberant laugh. Apologizing profusely, Darcy quickly grabbed a napkin from the table and offered it to Mrs. Bennet, unaware that he had actually grabbed the tablecloth instead. Punch was sent flying, spilling and splashing everywhere causing an uproar and ruining the gowns of several ladies standing nearby.
Elizabeth went to her mother’s aid, trying her best to console her without showing her amusement. Darcy stood there in the middle of the bedlam as if frozen in time, lost in his confusion and mortification, mumbling his apologies. Sir William came to his rescue, escorted him to a chair and notified Mr. Bingley that his friend was in need of assistance.
Most of the local residents thought Mr. Darcy as amiable as Mr. Bingley, but hopelessly clumsy. The women with stained and ruined gowns were not as kind in their assessments of him.
When the Netherfield party returned home that evening, Miss Bingley bitterly complained that Mr. Darcy had not danced with her. Darcy muttered under his breath about the cursed punch, which had soaked through his jacket and stained his shirt, which then adhered uncomfortably to his skin. There was little enthusiasm for the evening’s events.
Chapter 5: Tuesday Star
In the morning, Darcy approached the breakfast parlour cautiously, hoping to overhear the conversation. Mr. Hurst was commenting on the excellence of the meals at Netherfield and Bingley confirmed that he was quite pleased with the talents of the kitchen staff. Breathing a sigh of relief, Darcy entered the room and greeted everyone in attendance.
“There you are, Mr. Darcy!” Caroline said in greeting as he went to the sideboard to select his breakfast.
“The meals here have been quite enjoyable, have they not, Mr. Hurst?” Darcy asked him, hoping to draw him into the conversation.
“Quite so, Darcy. I was just telling Bingley here how much I have enjoyed the meals at Netherfield,” Hurst confirmed.
Desperate for Darcy’s approval, Caroline spoke up: “Yes, I agree, Henry, the meals are quite enjoyable. But the kitchen staff here is nothing compared to the staff at Pemberley. Of course, it would not do to compare a modest country kitchen to the kitchen of an estate as grand as Pemberley.” When Darcy merely nodded as he sipped his coffee, she added: “And the grounds here at Netherfield are quite enjoyable as well; of course they are no comparison to the grandness and beauty of Pemberley. Do you not agree, Mr. Darcy?” she asked, expecting a positive response.
He then choked on his coffee; gagging, coughing and sputtering until his face had reddened as though he was about to expire.
Mrs. Hurst jumped to his side to dab his shirt with a napkin and instructed a footman to remove and replace his spilled coffee cup. “Mr. Darcy, are you quite alright? How may I assist you?” she asked with great concern, handing him a glass of water. Through this entire scene, Caroline sat there stupefied, motionless, and uncertain of how to react.
Darcy drank the entire glass of water and dabbed at his face with a napkin. “Yes, yes, I am fine now, Mrs. Hurst. Please forgive me; I apologize for causing you any concern and thank you for your kind assistance.”
Caroline breathed a sigh of relief: “Oh thank goodness, Mr. Darcy! You gave me quite a scare! I thought we might have to cancel our plans to attend the country ball this evening.”
Everyone at the table stared at her in disbelief, none more so than Darcy.
When they arrived at the assembly that evening, Darcy walked directly to the refreshment table. He studied the placement of the cups, punchbowl, ladle, napkins and tablecloth, making sure he was certain of the location of each and their relative proximity to each other. He was determined not to be the cause of another calamity.
Sir William then approached him: “Mr. Darcy, I hope the refreshment table is to your liking. May I offer you some punch?”
“Ah, Sir William, it is a pleasure to see you again. Might I trouble you to introduce me to Miss Bennet?”
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet?” Sir William inquired.
“I was hoping to make the acquaintance of Miss Jane Bennet, if you please,” he clarified.
“Yes, of course,” Sir William responded as they walked to where Miss Bennet was standing and the introduction was made. She smiled at him pleasantly and he requested the first dance, which was accepted. She was quite beautiful, in a serene way, and very pleasant; but not as lively and vibrant as her sister.
Having danced the first set with Miss Bennet, he then requested introductions and danced with additional women: the next set with Miss Charlotte Lucas, the third set with Miss Mary King, the fourth with Miss Maria Lucas, the fifth with Miss Bennet again, the sixth with Miss Bingley and the last set with Mrs. Hurst.
Darcy believed that his current predicament was related to the number of women he danced with, so he formulated a strategy to his best advantage. His plan to dance with multiple women; including his two hostesses, to spare any grief during the ride home and at breakfast in the morning, had been successfully completed.
At the end of the evening, Sir William approached Darcy and offered to introduce him to Miss Elizabeth, who had accompanied him. When Darcy agreed, he said: “Mr. Darcy, may I present Miss Elizabeth Bennet, the brightest star that shines on a summer night. Miss Elizabeth, please meet Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire.” Having completed his task, Sir William left them alone.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Elizabeth. I fear that the evening is over and that I shall be denied dancing with the brightest star that shines on a summer night,” he said regretfully. However, glancing at her green gown, he was relieved that he had spared her and her mother another dousing of punch.
“I must warn you, Mr. Darcy, Sir William is prone to exaggeration,” she said with a laugh. “Perhaps we shall have our chance to dance when we meet again.” They parted amiably and he did indeed look forward to meeting her again in the future. He was captivated by her sparkling eyes.
Most of the local residents thought Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley were both amiable and hoped that their daughters would be favoured with a future call by one of the two respected gentlemen. One young lady was particularly pleased that she had been flattered by a handsome gentleman who had asked for a second dance that evening.
When the Netherfield party returned home that evening, most of the party was in high spirits, having just spent an enjoyable evening dancing. Mr. Bingley however, was less enthusiastic about the evening’s events.
Chapter 6: Tuesday?
In the morning, Darcy approached the breakfast parlour, overheard Henry Hurst comment on the excellence of the meals at Netherfield and stopped breathing. When he heard Charles confirm Henry’s remark, he turned quietly and walked out the back door. He continued walking, knowing not in which direction or for how long. He could not imagine why his plan of dancing with multiple women last night did not resolve his current predicament. “I was pleasant, friendly, engaging, and sociable; I spilled no punch, stepped on no toes and knocked no one over! I even danced with Caroline and Louisa and they seemed satisfied with my attentions.” He lost track of time and sense of direction as he continued walking and struggling with his thoughts.
He suddenly looked up and was startled to find Miss Elizabeth standing before him, also looking startled. Remembering that they had not as yet been introduced, he smiled and said: “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, I presume?” and bowed formally.
“Yes, Sir, but I do not recall ever making your acquaintance,” she said warily.
“I am Fitzwilliam Darcy of Derbyshire, a guest at Netherfield Park,” he explained. “Mr. Bingley and I are old friends from Cambridge.”
She curtsied and said: “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Darcy; however, I might ask how you knew that my name is Elizabeth. I have four sisters and you might very well have encountered any one of us this morning.”
“The answer is quite simple, Miss Elizabeth. I met Sir William yesterday and he told me that you are the jewel of the county; the brightest star that shines on a summer night!” he said with a smile. “And seeing you now, I can confirm that his descriptions are most accurate.” He was rewarded as she blushed at his compliment. He remembered her fondness for walking and said: “I am afraid that I have interrupted your morning walk,” he said as he looked around, “and quite possibly trespassed on your family’s property. I seem to have forgotten from which direction I came,” he awkwardly admitted.
She laughed merrily and said: “Yes, Mr. Darcy, you are indeed on Longbourn property now, but have no fear; I shall not set the dogs on you. I shall direct you back to the path that links the two estates.” As they walked toward the path, she asked: “Are you enjoying your stay at Netherfield, Mr. Darcy?”
“Yes, it quite reminds me of my own home in Derbyshire. It is a refreshing change from the hectic pace of Town,” he responded. As he watched her, he noticed that her demeanour was as bright and lively as he remembered from the ball, or one of the balls, he had lost track of them.
“Yes,” she responded, “I also prefer the country to Town. I can walk for miles here and never encounter a single soul – or perhaps just the occasional lost soul,” she said, teasing him.
“You have no idea,” he thought to himself. He then asked her: “If you will be attending the ball this evening, may I request a dance with you, Miss Elizabeth?”
Her eyes sparkled as she replied: “Yes, Mr. Darcy, I shall look forward to it.” When they reached the path to Netherfield, she told him: “This is where I must leave you, Mr. Darcy. I should not want us to be seen together unchaperoned.”
He thanked her for her assistance and they parted. He watched her as she turned and hurried down the path away from him. He followed the path back to Netherfield, all the while contemplating her and her bewitching eyes.
When he reached Netherfield, he had planned to use the back entrance to avoid possibly running into Caroline; but was not surprised when his plan went awry and he encountered her anyway. “Mr. Darcy! There you are! I have been in such a state looking for you! I feared that you had been lost in the woods!”
“I was in need of exercise, Miss Bingley. The clean air and the beautiful scenery of the country are so refreshing, are they not? It quite reminds me of Pemberley,” he said, repeating her very words, certain of her response.
“Yes, however, the grounds and the gardens of Netherfield do not compare to those of Pemberley, Mr. Darcy. Do you not agree?” she noted.
Darcy gritted his teeth in an attempt to stifle a laugh and merely nodded his agreement. “Caroline Bingley, how predictable!” He was quite certain that she would not mind at all if they were discovered unchaperoned; she would probably even arrange it herself as a way of securing him! He left her standing there and headed towards the stairs, taking them two at a time. When he reached his chamber, he rang for a servant and requested a meal and coffee. When the tray was delivered, he asked the footman to notify Mr. Bingley that he was looking forward to dining with the rest of the party that evening.
When the Netherfield party arrived at the assembly that evening, Darcy smiled broadly and walked briskly into the room, eager to dance with Miss Elizabeth. He approached her and Sir William and requested an introduction. “Mr. Darcy, may I present the charming Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Miss Elizabeth, please meet Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said with a sly smile.
“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Elizabeth. May I have the first dance?” he inquired.
During the dance, he engaged her in conversation: “You are most fortunate to have sisters, Miss Elizabeth. My younger sister longs for a confidante. I am afraid that having a dull, older brother is a poor substitute for a sister.”
“Yes, I adore my sisters, especially my eldest sister Jane. Mr. Bingley is dancing with her now,” she told him.
“She is quite lovely,” he observed.
“Yes, she is lovely inside and out. She never has a harsh word to say about anyone.”
“Mr. Bingley is the same; he is quite the optimist. He always sees the sunny side of every situation.”
“I am afraid that I am quite the opposite,” she said with a laugh. “Are you an optimist or a pessimist, Mr. Darcy?”
“I suppose if Mr. Bingley is the standard for optimism, then I am surely a pessimist,” he admitted.
“I must confess to being the same, although this attitude has not always worked to my best advantage,” she said with a smile.
“How so, if I may ask?” he inquired, fascinated by her.
“I am forever jumping to conclusions and misreading signals. It is a terrible flaw,” she confessed, with a smile.
“You bear it well, Miss Elizabeth,” he told her, returning her smile.
“I doubt that a distinguished gentleman such as you has any imperfections, Mr. Darcy,” she teased.
“If I did, would I dare confess them to you, Miss Elizabeth?”
“You are very wise to be cautious, Mr. Darcy,” she said, smiling.
“She is altogether charming, captivating and enchanting!” He noticed how she had put him at ease and drawn him into conversation; normally he was unable to find common interests with someone he had just met, but he had no such difficulty with her. Admittedly, he had already met her on several occasions, but she was the most delightful woman he had ever met and he wanted desperately to know her better.
At the end of the dance, he escorted her to the refreshment table, but stood well away from it. He was introduced to Mrs. Bennet and greeted her amiably, with great caution. They chatted briefly until she was called away by one of her other daughters.
Hoping to have a few moments alone with Miss Elizabeth, Darcy guided her to the back of the room to continue their conversation. However, the crowd seemed to hover closer to them. “Too many people; too many interruptions!” He grabbed her hand and ran out the back door.
“Mr. Darcy, what are you doing? Unhand me!” she demanded, as she ripped her hand away from his.
“I apologize, Miss Elizabeth, but it is so noisy inside; I just wanted to speak with you away from the crowd.” Seeing the anger in her beautiful eyes, he struggled desperately to form an intelligent question to continue their conversation: “May I inquire; who is your favourite author?” hoping she would linger outside with him a few minutes more.
