The Bennets pulled up to the Meryton Assembly, packed tightly into their carriage. They had all borne the admonitions of Mrs. Bennet, Lydia and Kitty to not wrinkle their dresses, but in the end, all of them had realised that some rumples were unavoidable.
Elizabeth, who had Lydia on her lap, was grateful that the short journey was over. Lydia bounced with excitement the entire way, and Elizabeth felt bruised from the movement.
“Look at all the officers!” Lydia exclaimed, leaping from the carriage and stepping hard on Elizabeth’s foot, but not noticing anything beyond the sea of red coats.
“There are not enough officers in all the world to tempt me to repeat this journey,” Elizabeth grumbled, rubbing her sore foot.
“If officers do not tempt you, my girl, then perhaps Mr. Bingley will!” Mrs. Bennet said, a bit too loudly for Elizabeth’s comfort.
“Mama!” Elizabeth said sharply. “You must not say such things.”
“And why should I not?” Mrs. Bennet said, she too eagerly examining all of the officers. “You and Jane have already made such a favourable impression, I should be surprised if he does not seek you out immediately.”
Elizabeth climbed out of the carriage and tried, in vain, to smooth the wrinkles that covered the front of her dress. Her efforts were for naught, and she sighed in vexation.
“If he does, it will be out of politeness,” Elizabeth said crossly. “To enquire after our health, not because he has fallen violently in love with one or the other of us.”
“Well, we know that he has not fallen for me,” Jane whispered mischievously in Elizabeth’s ear, far too quietly for anyone else to hear.
“I shall never forgive you if you put that idea into her head,” Elizabeth whispered back, nodding toward Mrs. Bennet.
But Mrs. Bennet was not paying attention to them any more, having spotted a friend. Elizabeth knew that she was already launching into the story of her and Jane being caught by highwaymen. It was too much to hope that Mrs. Bennet would leave out the part about being rescued by Mr. Bingley. It was much too good a story.
“Shall we see if we can find Charlotte?” Elizabeth asked Jane and Mary, everyone else having departed into the crowd.
“No, thank you,” Mary answered. She pulled a small book from her sash. “I am going to find someplace to read. Please do not tell Mama where I’ve gone.”
Elizabeth nodded her agreement, knowing that Mrs. Bennet would force Mary to dance if she were found. Mary hated dancing. Mary hated balls. In fact, Elizabeth realised, Mary disliked most things.
“I hope she hides well,” Jane said, watching Mary weave through the crowd. “Mama will be most unhappy if she finds her reading alone.”
“Too true,” Elizabeth agreed. “We’d best go in as well. Mama will be equally displeased with us if we do not make ourselves available to the throngs of available bachelors swarming the Assembly tonight.” She put a ridiculous tone on her statement because she believed her mother’s obsession with matchmaking was truly silly.
Jane smiled and they made their way inside.
Elizabeth searched the crowd, her eyes open for any sign of their dear friend, Charlotte Lucas. If she happened to see the stranger from a few days before, that was just the nature of balls such as this. So many people all together, one could hardly plan who they would see and when. Elizabeth blushed at her thoughts.
“Lizzy!” She heard her name and turned towards the voice. “Jane!” Charlotte Lucas was pushing her way towards them, politely apologizing to everyone she passed. Finally, she reached them, breathing slightly hard. “Lizzy, your face is bright red,” Charlotte said in greeting. “Have I missed something exciting?”
Elizabeth put her hand to her face, and quickly said, “Oh, it is the heat. It is amazing how hot it becomes when there are this many people!”
Charlotte nodded her agreement.
“I’m glad, for what I hear, you have had quite enough excitement! Highwaymen, I cannot even imagine!”
“Where did you hear that?” Jane asked as Elizabeth’s heart sunk.
“Your mother told my mother as soon as they met,” Charlotte explained. “Is it true that Mr. Bingley rescued you?” Elizabeth’s face flushed again.
“No!” She said quickly.
“Yes,” Jane said at the same instant. Charlotte looked from one of them to the other.
“Perhaps,” Elizabeth amended. “I cannot remember the name he gave, but my mother has decided that it must have been Mr. Bingley.”
“There is evidence supporting that conclusion,” Jane said fairly.
“Well, he made no mention of the incident when he met my father yesterday,” Charlotte said. “Not that it means anything, for what reason would he have to tell such a story?”
“Have you met him, then?” Jane asked.
Elizabeth moved closer, eager to hear what Charlotte said. She had good reason to be curious about the man.
“No,” Charlotte said. “But my father says that he is an easy-going man, kind, with a quick smile and a quick laugh. Does that sound like the man you met?”
“Maybe,” Elizabeth said slowly. In truth, it sounded nothing like the man they had met. Elizabeth had not seen the man smile at all, let alone laugh. And he hardly seemed like someone described as “easy-going.” “But the situation in which we met was hardly one that would have allowed the qualities you describe to be seen.”
“I should think not,” Charlotte said with a shiver. “I cannot imagine such a horrible situation. I am so relieved that you are safe.” She squeezed both sisters’ hands affectionately. Something over Elizabeth’s shoulder seemed to catch Charlotte’s eye. “I have not met the mysterious Mr. Bingley, but I should think that is him now.”
Elizabeth turned quickly and saw a party of four walking into the crowd uncertainly. People turned to stare at them, turning and whispering to their friends as they passed. But what caught Elizabeth’s attention so firmly, was the tall, dark-haired man wearing a dark green jacket. It was the man they had met on that awful night.
“It seems that our saviour was, indeed, Mr. Bingley,” Jane murmured softly.
“Do not tell Mama she was right,” Elizabeth whispered back, her eyes still on the party. “We will never hear the end of it.”
Charlotte laughed softly at this, but Elizabeth was still distracted. The women with Mr. Bingley were dressed in the finest clothing Elizabeth had ever seen in Hertfordshire. They would not have been out of place in fashionable London, or even Paris, but here, they looked like two beautiful roses among so many daisies. The man with Mr. Bingley was not quite as tall as he, had light hair and was clearly delighted with everything he saw.
Mr. Bingley was slowly examining the room, and Elizabeth held her breath as his eyes passed over her. Except they did not pass her over. As soon as his gaze fell upon her and Jane, he stopped and stared. Then, he bent his head to his companion’s ear and began to walk towards them.
“It seems Mr. Bingley wishes to reacquaint himself with us,” Jane said neutrally, smoothing the front of her dress.
“It is polite,” Elizabeth replied quickly, but could not say anything else before the group was in earshot. Quickly, Elizabeth dropped into a curtsy to greet the newcomers. She felt Jane and Charlotte join her.
“Miss Elizabeth, Miss Jane,” the dark-haired man said, bowing to them both. “I am quite pleased to find that you are well.”
“Quite well, thank you,” Elizabeth replied, standing straight once more. “Please allow me to introduce our friend, Miss Charlotte Lucas. Miss Lucas, Mr. Bingley.”
For some reason, the pale-haired man bowed and responded.
“A pleasure, Miss Lucas,” the man said. He turned to Elizabeth and Jane. “Though, I apologise, I do not recall making your acquaintance.”
Confusion swamped over Elizabeth, quickly replaced by humiliation. The dark-haired man was not Mr. Bingley! This smiling, blue-eyed stranger was. She suddenly wished she could disappear forever.
“Mr. Charles Bingley, Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Miss Jane Bennet,” the dark-haired man offered, introducing the sisters.
“Ah, Bennet, yes. I met Mr. Bennet several days ago!” Mr. Bingley said with a laugh. “A truly charming man with five daughters! You must be two of them.”
“Indeed, we are, Mr. Bingley,” Jane replied quietly. Elizabeth noticed that Mr. Bingley’s gaze had not yet left Jane, and Jane seemed equally interested in him. “I am the eldest, and Elizabeth next to me in age.”
One of the women with the two men cleared her throat loudly. Mr. Bingley seemed to come to himself and wrenched his eyes from Jane.
“Where are my manners? You must forgive me, the shock of learning that Darcy actually knew someone here has completely robbed me of my mind. Allow me to introduce my sisters, Miss Caroline Bingley.” The woman wearing a deep red gown, with several strings of pearls around her neck and an elegant feather in her hair, inclined her head slightly. “And Mrs. Hurst.” A slightly older woman wearing blue, with equally fine jewellery, nodded.
Elizabeth felt an immediate dislike for both women; they obviously thought themselves above this gathering. But there was one good thing that came from the introductions: Elizabeth now knew that the dark-haired man was called Darcy.
“But I am still confused,” Mr. Bingley continued. “Darcy, how do you know the Bennets?”
“We met on the road,” Mr. Darcy replied elusively. “They had a bit of trouble, and I was able to lend a hand.”
“For which we are deeply grateful,” Elizabeth added quickly. She hoped that everyone had forgotten her mistake. Mr. Darcy was certainly giving no indication that he was offended. Yet another thing for which she had deep gratitude.
“Are you the ones who met the highwaymen?” Mr. Bingley asked excitedly. “The whole Assembly is buzzing with the story.”
“Yes,” the one Elizabeth thought was called Caroline said. “There was a woman screeching about it to anyone who would listen.” Elizabeth’s jaw tightened, feeling certain she was referring to her mother. Her dislike for the woman grew.
“We were unfortunate enough to fall prey to some despicable men along the road as we travelled home from London,” Elizabeth answered, turning to face Mr. Bingley. She purposefully turned away from the sisters. She knew it was rude, and that Jane would chastise her later, but Elizabeth did not care. The slight on Mrs. Bennet hurt partially because, deep down, Elizabeth knew it was probably accurate. “They beat our coachman and demanded our valuables while threatening harm. Luckily, Mr. Darcy happened to be passing at the time, and he saved all of us.”
“Why, Darcy, you never told me this story!” Mr. Bingley looked at his friend in surprise.
“It was nothing,” Mr. Darcy said, looking uncomfortable. “It was more lucky that I decided to carry my pistol. And you, Miss Elizabeth, were handling things quite nicely without my help. It was your quick thinking, and strong kick, that allowed me to end the situation so easily.”
Elizabeth smiled, feeling warm at his compliment.
“I know ladies are not supposed to use violence,” she said with a laugh. “And my mother would die of shame should she learn, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“I should say so,” Mr. Bingley agreed with a smile, his eyes back on Jane. “I hope that you are on my side if ever I find myself in such a situation.”
“I have no intentions of taking up banditry,” Elizabeth said with a laugh. “So I shall always be on your side. I cannot, however, promise that I will be at your side.” Elizabeth immediately regretted saying such a thing—she was teasing a man she barely knew! And she well knew that not everyone reacted favourably to such treatment.
“You have quick wit to make light of such a small slip of the tongue,” Mr. Bingley said with a laugh, his eyes dancing. Elizabeth sighed in relief, it seemed Mr. Bingley truly was as easy-going as everyone claimed. “Miss Bennet,” he said suddenly to Jane. “Would you honour me with a dance?”
Jane turned bright red and seemed as though she could not speak, but she nodded her assent. Mr. Bingley’s smile widened, a feat Elizabeth had not thought possible.
“Wonderful,” he said warmly. “And Darcy, why don’t you ask Miss Elizabeth to dance as well?”
Darcy, instead of immediately agreeing, as Elizabeth expected he would—he was a polite man, after all—stared hard at his friend. Elizabeth felt an unexpected rush of shame overtake her. She certainly did not want to force the man to dance. She was about to free him from the obligation when he turned to face her with a bow.
“I would be pleased if you agreed to share a dance with me,” he said quietly.
Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw Caroline Bingley tug at her dress in annoyance. Elizabeth wanted to dance with Mr. Darcy, she was still intrigued by the man, but the opportunity to annoy Caroline sealed Elizabeth’s decision.
“It would be my pleasure, Mr. Darcy,” she replied with a smile, and she, Mr. Darcy, Jane and Mr. Bingley, turned to make their way to the floor.
As they left, she heard Mrs. Hurst say something to Charlotte and the conversation resumed behind them. A stab of guilt hit her; she was perhaps too hard on Mr. Bingley’s sisters. They were in a strange place, after all, and needed friends. She resolved to be kinder to them upon reacquaintance.
As soon as they stepped onto the dance floor, however, all thought of Caroline and Mrs. Hurst left her mind. Instead, she found herself face-to-face with Mr. Darcy, the music about to start, her heart beating very fast, and her mouth very dry.