Page 10 of Most Truly the Gentleman

He chuckled. “At the time, I will admit we were all quite convinced that we were sunk. Only after we were safely returned to our own lines did it become amusing in retrospect. There is a surprising amount of absurdity in war, and those who can laugh at it fare better than those who cannot, I think.”

6

A COMPANY OF MILITIA

Darcy did indeed find the meal more pleasant than what preceded it. He was seated between Miss Lucas and Miss Bennet, neither of whom fluttered a single eyelash at him, but made commonplace, undemanding conversation with him between the courses. The meal was better than he would have expected from such a house, and as Miss Elizabeth had assured him, the dining room did not collect sound like a dragon hoarding gold.

Across the table and a little to his right, his cousin sat flanked by Miss Elizabeth and Miss Mary Bennet. He attended to the latter with ease and civility, though Darcy did not think he particularly enjoyed her company, while with the former he appeared to have a grand time, indeed. They seemed to laugh as much as they conversed. Bingley was on Miss Bennet’s other side, and could not be seen without rudely leaning over the table, but in the rare glimpses Darcy caught of him, he was always smiling.

After the meal, when the gentlemen gathered for port and cigars, Darcy had the comfort of being able to sit with his cousin and his friend, though both paid most of their attention to their host and the other gentlemen. He did not mind in the least; he simply felt most relaxed when in their immediate company. He exerted himself to contribute to the general conversation when it ventured into areas with which he was familiar—farming, the state of Parliament, and the like.

This reasonably pleasant interlude unfortunately came to an end when the gentlemen joined the ladies in the drawing room, which was, if anything, even louder than it had been before dinner. He made his way as quickly as possible to the ‘quiet corner’, but this time he had been watched and he was soon joined there by Miss Bingley. She grasped his arm, though he had not offered it, and proceeded to chatter in his ear about the lack of every fine quality in the company. He regulated his expression into one of cool civility and resolved that, if he could not be as engaged with the company as he had intended, he would at least exert himself to provoke no more displeasure. He could endure the remainder of the evening, surely.

“I shall be happy indeed when this evening is done,” Miss Bingley was saying as he emerged from his own thoughts. “We must urge Charles to accept no more invitations for a fortnight at least!”

“I am sorry to spoil your plans,” he said, “but Bingley has already assured Sir William Lucas that we shall attend his dinner party three nights hence. It was mentioned over port. But as a lady, you are in the fortunate position of having the option to claim a headache, and no one will fault you for remaining at home.”

The lady frowned. “I see that I must speak with Charles as a matter of urgency, and make him cease accepting every invitation which comes our way. As to Sir William’s dinner—” Her lips pursed in displeasure. “I could not in good conscience leave you to suffer it without a single like-minded friend. I shall attend, though it pains me to do so.”

He had been very much afraid she would say that.

The day following, the ladies of Longbourn called at Netherfield, and the day before Sir William’s dinner, the visit was returned. Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst expressed a wish of being better known to Jane and Elizabeth, though to Elizabeth’s mind it was a wish grudgingly and insincerely expressed, designed more to denigrate her mother and youngest three sisters than to compliment her and Jane.

Jane, however, was delighted by it, and Elizabeth held her tongue on the subject. Her sister and Mr Bingley had spent the last hour at Mrs Denby’s dinner party speaking only to each other; it was quite apparent to Elizabeth that they admired each other and might do a great deal more than admire if left to conduct their own affairs without her mother’s ‘assistance’.

Though the gentlemen had not been in evidence when the Bennet ladies called at Netherfield, they all three appeared at Longbourn with Mr Bingley’s sisters. Mr Bingley seemed greatly desirous of advancing his sisters’ friendship with Jane, and so sought her attention for himself only half the time, or perhaps a little more.

Colonel Fitzwilliam bore manfully with the giggles and fluttered eyelashes of Kitty and Lydia, to say nothing of Mrs Bennet. He told them light, amusing stories of army life, nothing more shocking than a much-disliked general refusing to hear his aide’s warning and thereby finding himself standing in a great horse dropping. Mr Darcy was not in evidence at all, for after greeting the ladies civilly, to Mrs Bennet’s openly displayed shock, he voiced a wish to be made known to Mr Bennet, and was conducted by the housekeeper to the master’s study, where he remained until she was sent to fetch him to depart with his party.

At Lucas Lodge the next evening, there were new acquaintances to be made—the colonel of a regiment of militia had arrived in Meryton, to seek out lodgings for his officers and a suitable place to erect a camp for his men, as they would be stationed in the neighbourhood for the whole of the winter and into the spring. The colonel, a gentlemanly fellow of about forty by the name of Forster, was accompanied by a trio of his trusted officers, Captain Carter, Mr Saunders, and Mr Denny. The younger men were pleasant and gentlemanlike also, and when informed that a colonel of the Regulars was in residence, they were very eager to meet him.

This wish was fulfilled soon after the arrival of the Netherfield party, some twenty minutes behind everyone else. Elizabeth sensed that Mr Bingley and his two friends were more than slightly annoyed, though they strove to conceal it. Mr Hurst was all happiness the moment he set eyes on the sideboard with its offerings of wine, sherry, and orgeat, while his wife and her sister regarded the company with their typical expressions of ill-concealed disdain.

Sir William, always delighted to forward a new acquaintance and so rarely offered the opportunity of doing so, wasted no time in presenting the militia colonel and his officers to Colonel Fitzwilliam, who received them with the amicable good cheer Elizabeth had already come to expect of him. The men kept their heads close together during the short time before dinner was announced.

The new arrivals circulated more widely after the meal, and Elizabeth and Charlotte had the opportunity of speaking to them. Colonel Forster remarked upon the warmth of their welcome, hinting that his regiment was not always received with pleasure by the townsfolk, whereupon Elizabeth laughingly suggested that if he wished for the neighbourhood to truly love them, he and his officers ought to give a ball. “For gentlemen are scarce hereabouts, and it is often the case that young ladies must sit out a set or two for lack of a partner. With so many young men at your disposal, Colonel, you might delight us all with an evening in which none of us sit down once, and then we shall never allow an ill word to be spoken of any of you!”

Chuckling, he replied, “Now there is a notion I will happily consider. Many of my officers love to dance, and I am not above a turn or two myself. My wife also enjoys a ball and will rejoice at a chance to don her ballgown and wear out a pair of slippers.”

Mr Darcy, who had been attending to the conversation from its inception, drifted a step or two closer, and Elizabeth thought to tease him into opening his mouth to a larger group. “What do you think, Mr Darcy—did I not express myself uncommonly well just now, in suggesting Colonel Forster give a ball to win the hearts of the neighbourhood?”

“With great energy,” he said, “but a ball is a subject which always makes a lady energetic.”

She might have taken that statement amiss, had she failed to note the very slight smile which accompanied it. Instead, she smiled back and said lightly, “You are severe upon us, sir.”

“It will be her turn soon to be teased,” said Miss Lucas. “I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows.”

Elizabeth protested, not very seriously, that she had not thought to perform that evening, but when Charlotte insisted, she capitulated and followed her friend to the pianoforte, where she played a popular air and sang a favourite song before yielding the instrument to her sister Mary, who was always very eager to display.

Having been early in life marked out as the plainest of the Bennet daughters, Mary had long sought to distinguish herself by accomplishment and piety, and in this instance, chose to impress the gathering with a long concerto, performed with a conceited air. Poor Mary had never understood that a much greater excellence than she had yet attained would not make up for the manner of her delivery, and so she was always disappointed when her playing was received with less enthusiasm than Elizabeth’s less proficient but more sprightly performances. Elizabeth and Jane always tried to swell the volume of the applause for their younger sister through their own vigorous efforts, but this did not much increase it.

Lydia, supported by Kitty, entreated Mary to play a tune they might dance to, and seeing the approval with which much of the company greeted the suggestion, she conceded with unusual grace. Sir William ordered the rugs rolled up at one end of the room and the youngest Bennets, with the officers and Bingley and Jane and some others, formed a dance there.

Elizabeth, crossing the room to join Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss Lucas, was stopped by Sir William, who broke off his conversation with Mr Darcy to exclaim over the fact that she was not dancing, and to urge Mr Darcy to escort her to the floor, going so far as to take her hand and attempt to place it in Mr Darcy’s.

7

DANCING AT LUCAS LODGE