Page 13 of His Pride and His Prejudice

Charles picked up the invite from the mantle, nodding as he read it. “Darcy and I will be planning my campaign. It will begin at Sir William’s ball!”

“Your campaign?” Darcy asked.

Charles clapped him on the shoulder, his smile widening for on the strength of Darcy’s regard, he had the firmest reliance, and of his judgment the highest opinion. It was natural therefore that he would seek his friend’s guidance.

“You will aid me, I hope,” Charles said. “As I attempt to discover if Jack Bennet is indeed as intriguing as he seems to be.”

Darcy sighed even as he nodded his agreement. Charles had never seemed to realise, throughout the many years of their friendship, that though Darcy was clever, he was often perceived as haughty, reserved, and fastidious—and his manners, though well bred, were not inviting and so not at all ideal for giving aid at a ball!

In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage.

Bingley was sure of being liked wherever he appeared.

Darcy was continually giving offence.

Seven

The invite for afternoon tea arrived the very next morning and Elliot reflected that had Mrs. Bennet known it was coming she would have worked herself into such a state of raptures that Mr. Bennet would have been obliged to apply a liberal dose of laudanum to calm her down!

Her delight upon opening the invite involved a lengthy description of the quality of the card, the thickness of the seal, and then the prettiness of the penmanship. She paused slightly when she realised that the invite was from the Mrs. Hursts and Miss Bingley rather than Mr. Bingley himself but soon rallied. An invite from his sisters was very nearly as good as an invite from the alpha himself!

“It is just as I said it would be, Mr. Bennet!” she cried, smoothing the invite out across the table where they were all sat breaking their fast. “Jack has captured Mr. Bingley’s particular attention!”

“May I see the invite?” Jack asked but Mrs. Bennet continued as though he had not spoken.

“And such an invite! For all of us to be welcomed to Netherfield! This is a coup indeed, Mr. Bennet. I have not yet heard of any other family being given such an honour.” She paused. “Though little time has elapsed since the ball so it may simply be that they are making their way through their social obligations, and of course the Lucases would be invited first were that the case.” Another pause. “It is disappointing indeed that we do not know if that has happened. For if we have been invited first then it is quite clear that Mr. Bingley favours Jack!”

“We are all invited?” Jack asked and Mrs. Bennet nodded.

“We must give some consideration to your dress,” she said. “You cannot, of course, go in clothes as fine as those at the ball but certainly we must ensure you look your best. I wonder if now is the time to consider that embroidered waistcoat? I had thought it slightly alarming but now I begin to wonder if it is not just the thing for company such as this.”

“The invite, mama?” Jack continued.

Mrs. Bennet did not answer her favoured son but instead listed the advantages of the waistcoat versus a plainer version. Elliot privately considered the waistcoat to be utterly alarming and pitied Jack if he was to be forced to wear it. With his sympathies so roused, Elliot leaned forward and filched the invite from under Mrs. Bennet’s fingers, passing it then across to Jack.

“It says here that they would like us all to attend afternoon tea with them,” Jack said. “I assume by all they mean our brothers also?”

Mrs. Bennet gave him a confused look. “Of course, they mean your brothers, Jack,” she said. “We will all attend excepting your papa who never attends afternoon tea.”

“Because it is a foolish practice,” Mr. Bennet said. “I have never understood why anyone would want to sit down to drink tea—always an insipid undertaking—and eat cake, which as well as being overly sweet does nothing to aid digestion!”

“You called on me for afternoon tea,” Mrs. Bennet said.

“In order to mate with you!” Mr. Bennet replied. “Good God, woman, I would not have been there otherwise. Competing for your attention with a group of foppish young men and even more foolish women! If memory serves your mother did not even serve cake but those hard biscuits which were impossible to chew. My jaw ached for days after the fact.”

“The cook in our employ was not very good at his job,” Mrs. Bennet confirmed. “But he was a lifelong friend of mama’s and far too old to put out. His entire family were omegas you know with little in the way of social opportunities. Mama ensured they had a home and stability though our meals were far from pleasant for many years.”

“I remember him now that you mention it,” Mr. Bennet said. “Did not your brother inherit his son?”

“Yes, but Roland put some effort into learning the job.”

“His biscuits had spices in them…”

Mr. and Mrs. Bennet continued on with their recollections about the household servants including their own, of which there were few and always had been, given their limited financial resources. Elliot moved his chair down the table to converse with Jack who was still looking at the invite, a slight frown creasing his forehead.

“Are you quite alright?” he asked.

It took Jack a moment to answer. “Yes but…I thought the invite…of course the whole family would be invited…but…well…that is to say…”

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