Darcy in Want of a Wife

Chapter 1

The Meryton Assembly Hall

15 th October, 1811

The plucking of strings drifted over the assembly hall as the musicians on their dais warmed up their instruments. Chatter rose into the candlelit air along with the clink of glasses filled with lemonade or punch. The polished wooden parquet of the dance floor shone in the light of the dozens of candles set about, while flower-toned young ladies and gentlemen in their best coats swirled around the center of the room.

“Elizabeth!”

Elizabeth Stowe peered over the crowded room and then made her eager way over to her closest friend outside of her family, the elder daughter of Sir William Lucas.

“Charlotte! I hope you are well?”

“I am,” Charlotte replied and took a step back to regard her friend carefully. “My dear, you look magnificent!”

Elizabeth smiled and said, “Thank you! Aunt Bennet arranged for all of us to have new gowns for the autumn, and this is the first time we have worn ours to an assembly.”

Charlotte nodded and said, “Mrs. Bennet has a wonderful eye. I see that your cousins are dressed in blues and yellows, but you would be washed out in such colors.”

“I like greens and dark reds,” Elizabeth agreed. “But come, enough about me; have you heard anything more about the mysterious Mr. Bingley? I understand that he has brought five sisters and a cousin to our little area of England.”

Charlotte laughed and said, “All I know is that my father assures me that he will be present tonight at the assembly, and my mother insists he will be bringing twelve ladies and seven gentlemen!”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes dramatically. “I dearly hope he does not bring a full dozen ladies! We already do not have enough gentlemen for dancing!”

There was a sudden upsurge of noise from the entrance of the hall, and both ladies turned toward the door, where a party of five was making its way into the large room.

The man in the lead, his hair a dark blond that was set off to advantage by his deep blue coat, was looking around the room with obvious enthusiasm, a broad smile across his handsome face. The cluster of people behind him appeared far less pleased by their surroundings and company; a tall, dark man with a saturnine look to his mouth and a haughty tilt to his nose, two extremely well-dressed women glimmering in silks and jewels and feathers with sneers on their handsome faces, and a portly man whose coat, despite its neat cut, could not quite flatter his figure and who gave off an air of wishing he were instead at home.

Sir William Lucas hurried forward to speak to the blond man, and Charlotte said, “That must be Mr. Bingley.”

“He seems pleased to be here,” Elizabeth remarked just as Sir William turned to look around the room and then, spying his eldest daughter, gestured. Charlotte blew out a breath, pinned a smile on her face, and said, “I will see you later.”

“Until later,” Elizabeth agreed, just as Charlotte’s brother Samuel appeared at her side and asked her for the first dance.

She nodded her agreement and put her hand on his arm, and together they walked onto the dance floor. Within a minute, the music started for a country dance, and Elizabeth trod with joy through the familiar steps, smiling brightly upon her partner and the other couples in their set. Her cousin Jane, further down the room, was partnered with Samuel’s younger brother, Matthew. Kitty and Lydia had also been asked to dance and were now twirling with the Basset boys from the other side of Meryton, both girls giggling. The newcomers were in their set, Mr. Bingley still beaming as he danced with Charlotte, the dark and haughty gentleman visibly bored as he proceeded automatically through the dance with the younger woman of Bingley’s party.

Elizabeth repressed a desire to laugh. She could not imagine being bored while dancing – she loved the assemblies and the chance to move in time with the music and to see all her friends and neighbors. Even now, her soul was filled with such joy that she favored Samuel with a brilliant smile, unaware of the picture she presented with a delicately flushed face and sparkling eyes.

Samuel, long familiar with Miss Stowe, was scarcely affected by this lovely sight, but grinned back and led her gallantly off the dance floor to the punch table, where he ladled out a glassful for her. Elizabeth accepted with gracious thanks and looked around the room as she sipped her drink. Across the floor, Charlotte Lucas was introducing Mr. Bingley to Mrs. Bennet and her four daughters. Mr. Bingley, not surprisingly, was gazing at Jane with patent admiration. He bowed and offered his hand, and Jane favored him with an enchanting smile before accepting his hand with delicate grace and letting him lead her onto the floor.

“Miss Stowe, would you be willing to dance the next with me?” a young male voice inquired from her left.

Elizabeth turned and smiled at Mr. Adam Allen, the eldest son of the rector in Meryton, who had recently graduated from Cambridge and was serving as curate under his father’s direction. “Of course, Mr. Allen. I would be honored.”

Mr. Allen guided her onto the floor and two minutes later, a cotillion began.

Elizabeth, as she danced the figures, was close enough to her elder cousin, Jane, to observe her dance with Mr. Bingley. Jane was Elizabeth’s favorite cousin, and she was pleased, but not surprised, to see Bingley staring with rapt admiration at his partner. Jane was generally considered to be the most handsome woman in the entire district, with blonde hair and blue eyes and an elegant figure. Jane was also intelligent and kind, and her only hindrance in finding a husband was her lack of a dowry.

That was a great pity, as Elizabeth’s cousins and aunt faced a frightening financial future; after Mr. Bennet died, the Bennet estate of Longbourn would go to a distant cousin due to a most unfortunate entail.

The music ended, and Elizabeth curtsied to her partner before leaving the dance floor on his arm. A swift glance around the room showed couples already taking their places for the next set, and no gentleman moving towards her. Elizabeth, accepting with equanimity her lot to sit out the next dance, drifted to the chairs where Charlotte Lucas also sat.

Miss Lucas, age seven and twenty and plainer than any of the Bennet ladies, was a sensible, intelligent woman, and Elizabeth did not mind even the slightest bit sitting out to speak with her dear friend.

/

Darcy glared at the glass of punch in his hand. The vessel itself was heavy and clunky, not like the thin ornate glasses he was used to; it was very appropriate to the dowdy little backwater it served. Nonetheless, he took a swallow of his punch, which was actually quite good, and lifted his eyes to the dance floor. The dancers did well enough in their movements, but the dance could not hold his attention. He had already, as propriety dictated, danced once with his hostess at Netherfield and once with her sister, and he now was retired to the sidelines. None of the local women interested him, and he had not the slightest intention of arousing the interest of matchmaking mothers in his own person.

He knew that he looked forbidding, with his dark scowl and cold eyes, but he was too weary to try for a pleasanter expression. He had only arrived at Netherfield that very day, and the two previous months in London sat heavy on mind and body and spirit alike. He had been looking forward with eagerness to a leisurely night in, perhaps a stroll in the gardens to take a fresher air than could be found in Town.

Instead, Bingley had met him at the door with the news that they were all to attend the local assembly that evening, his very manner that of one conveying an unexpected treat. Darcy had been dismayed but allowed himself to be dragged along – he himself was acutely aware of the duties of country gentlemen, and it certainly behooved Bingley to be on good terms with his neighbors. Not that Bingley saw the task of the requisite socializing as an onerous one; by nature a cheery and friendly sort, Bingley deeply enjoyed dancing and conversation with many partners.

Bingley was charming in discourse, with a handsome face and fine figure, so it was of little surprise that he had captured the attention of the loveliest lady in the room. Blonde, of course, as the ladies that enchanted him always were, with celestial blue eyes and a refined manner. Bingley might have his blondes with Darcy’s blessing; he usually found such women insipid, dull in conversation and manner alike.

At least one of the party was enjoying himself, Darcy thought, more sour than wry. A swift look at Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst showed them obviously dissatisfied with their company, both loftily ignoring any man fool enough or brave enough to attempt to catch their eye. Hurst half-dozed in a chair near the fire, holding a cup of punch negligently in one hand. Darcy understood his boredom but disapproved of the impoliteness of such behavior, and he turned pointedly away to look back out at the dance floor. Bingley was smiling brightly as he revolved around his current partner, and Darcy had no doubt that time was flying by for him.

For his own part, he willed the clock to move faster. It would be necessary to stay at the assembly some time longer, an idea he regarded with gloomy dissatisfaction. He had little desire to engage in conversation with these rustic folk, wishing only to return to Netherfield and there seek the tranquility of the outdoors or the coziness of his prepared bedchamber.

The music came to an end, and the clapping was more exuberant than appropriate, and a moment later, he heard his name being called. He turned as Bingley, eyes shining, cheeks pleasantly flushed, hurried up to him.

“Bingley,” Darcy returned, though rather stiffly.

“Come, Darcy,” Bingley said, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.”

“I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable. I have already danced with your sisters, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.”

“I would not be so fastidious as you are,” cried Bingley, “for a kingdom! Upon my honor, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening, and there are several of them, you see, uncommonly pretty.”

“Youare dancing with the most handsome girl in the room,” said Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.

“Oh, she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld!But there is one of her cousins sitting down just behind you who is very pretty and, I dare say, very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.”

“Which do you mean?” he asked, as he turned round and looked at the lady in question. She was seated next to a plain young woman whom Darcy vaguely remembered as the elder Miss Lucas.

He felt as if he had received a punch to the stomach. The cousin was not a blonde, but a red-headed beauty with twinkling dark eyes. Even as he watched, she lifted one delicate eyebrow and tilted her head with a slight smile. It was obvious she was listening to the conversation and found it amusing.

With a quick inhale of breath, Darcy realized with shock that she was, in fact, more than handsome enough to tempt him.

“Yes, Bingley,” he said, regaining at least some of his equanimity, “would you be so kind as to have your partner introduce the lady?”

Bingley looked startled and then nodded eagerly. “Of course. Wonderful! Please wait a minute.”

Bingley’s partner, whom he introduced as Miss Jane Bennet, was thankfully free; within five minutes, Darcy was standing in front of the redheaded beauty, waiting for the necessary introduction.

“Elizabeth,” Miss Bennet said, “may I please introduce you to Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy. Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, may I please introduce you to my cousin, Miss Elizabeth Stowe.”

The lady curtsied and the gentlemen bowed, and Darcy said, “Miss Stowe, might I have the honor of the next dance?”

“Of course, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth replied.