The Heir and Spare (Jane Austen Adaptations)

7. Elizabeth

Chapter 7

Elizabeth

E very time Elizabeth thought she was getting to know the real Mr. Darcy, the memory of his own unkindness returned. And she perhaps should not have ruined their moment, but how could they openly discuss being kind to others when he had been unkind in his thoughts and conversation about her? Even if he didn’t know she heard him, his words, his thoughts about her had not been kind or kindly directed. And he had yet to even mention their time at the assembly in Meryton. Could he not remember her at all? How could she believe him to be truly interested in her if she was so completely forgettable by him?

It was too much to understand. But she could not forget. She would not let herself forget because of the very conversation they had just had. It was so easy to pretend to be any manner of person. And she had seen a side to Mr. Darcy that would certainly be an unpleasant surprise.

Though she entered with Mr. Darcy, they were not seated together. Instead she was near Lord Shackley at the head of the table to his right and across from a lovely man who had not been present until the very call to dinner: the vicar, a Mr. Miller. To her right sat one of the lords so intent on discussing the hunt, Lord Smathering. Mr. Darcy sat way down at the other end of the table near Mary and Lord Perceval. He did not look overly pleased, while Mary and Lord Perceval seemed to be chattering away as though catching up like old friends.

What a lovely turn for her dear sister. Perhaps something wonderful could happen for her as well as Jane. Elizabeth might have to wait. Though there were some she had not conversed with yet at this party.

At the table, six pairs had begun their first course. Everyone there was interesting in their own right and quite handsome or lovely as the case allowed. The vicar and Lord Shackley were a pair she guessed; otherwise the numbers were even, and the party was well planned. She would give her compliments to the housekeeper who had likely done the brunt of all the work to create such an event.

She had not met many of the women. Miss Lilly, a lovely woman from outside of Brighton, seemed fresh from home with very little worldly experience. She sat at Mary’s other side. Elizabeth was pleased to see that as well. Every woman needed another who could be trusted. And something about Lilly was all about innocence. Elizabeth would be surprised to see even a drop of guile in her. But then there were a few women in the middle of the table with intelligent expressions and narrow eyes who seemed to be more of the calculating and managing types, the kind who had already matched everyone at the table in the most advantageous of ways for their own benefit. Of course Elizabeth did not know as much about them yet, but they had a certain air of condescension and omniscience that Elizabeth would as soon avoid if possible.

One of those three looked at Mr. Darcy more than any other person in the room, but he had as yet to notice or return her gazes. Elizabeth smiled. Good luck to her winning his attention, let alone his hand.

One more woman was left to know or figure out, and Elizabeth was inclined to like her. She seemed a tiny bit older than the rest, but she sat on the other side of Lord Smathering and so Elizabeth could not hold a real conversation with her, but their gazes met enough times in reaction to the many hunting references coming from Lord Smathering that Elizabeth felt she was a kindred friend already. She heard her being referred to as Miss Vincent. She reminded Lizzie of a really nice governess; though she was beautiful in every way, she seemed to be the governess type, or at least someone who had responsibility for others. She had an air of independence and intelligence about her. Elizabeth simply felt she could learn much from her. And so she resolved that when the women separated out, she would seek out Miss Vincent.

The vicar surprised her with many very direct questions. It lent itself to an enjoyable conversation, if not a slightly embarrassing one.

“Tell me, Miss Elizabeth, are the young men of your acquaintance men of God?”

She swallowed, trying to gather her thoughts. “Without speaking ill of anyone, I will have to say I’m not certain. Mary is actually the better person to ask such a question. Who is one to say if one is a man or woman of God?” She sipped her drink, attempting to wet her lips. “Such things can easily be hidden, can they not?”

He dipped his head in acknowledgement. “I quite agree. Let me rephrase my question. Are there any you feel would be a good vicar?”

At this she laughed. But at his perfectly serious expression, she smoothed her face and chose to take his question seriously. “I suppose so, yes, perhaps the Lucas’ oldest son. They are a family in a neighboring town to ours. But he might be the only one. We do have a regiment stationed in Meryton at the moment.”

At the mention of Meryton, Mr. Darcy’s gaze flitted to her for a moment and then drifted away.

So he might remember her? What an odd thing to forget, a whole person in one’s life. She couldn’t fathom such a thing, not yet anyway. Perhaps as she grew older…

The vicar nodded, knowingly. “Those men in the military are at times good candidates for a position in the clergy. They need a living often. And they have seen hardship in some cases and would have some depth and compassion for others.”

“Do you feel then, that an important responsibility for a man of the cloth would be to feel that compassion? What about the need to teach your flock, to exhort them to better behavior?”

He considered her a moment and then shook his head. “I feel that the more a person is loved, the better they will behave. Teachings from the pulpit may abound, but to feel loved is a changing phenomenon indeed.”

Elizabeth nodded more than was socially acceptable, but she’d never heard such a concept before and it was sinking in in ways that were working a change in her. “I do believe that is one of the most remarkable things I’ve yet heard. And I will admit to many a long sermon being ignored, but the vicar who came by and prayed with my mother when she first took to her nerves, was a man I would follow and listen to.” She thought of his many actions with the tenants and the assistance he was to their whole village, and she resolved to pay better attention to him and to ways she might assist in their own congregation.

Mr. Miller ate his food carefully with small bites. “Are you and your sister of influence in your area?”

“My sister perhaps more than I when it comes to the flock. She finds herself studying Fordyce’s sermons and visiting tenants with mini sermons of her own, I’m afraid.”

The vicar’s lips twitched, and he studied Mary from down the table. “Extraordinary.”

Elizabeth did not share how unbearable it felt to be a recipient of one of her sister’s lectures. She nodded. “She is quite remarkable and unique among women.”

At length, Lord Shackley stood. “And now we invite the lovelier sex to please partake of some respite in the lavender drawing room while we take to our more uncouth pursuits here.” He laughed.

The women stood and Elizabeth found her sister’s arm. “Goodness, you have had quite the conversation.”

Mary blushed for a moment. “He is most diverting. I think you would enjoy his humor.”

“I’m certain I would if you do. Do we know anything about him?”

“What is there to know besides our complete compatibility?” She smiled a dreamy and utterly na?ve smile, and Elizabeth realized her mistake in not preparing Mary for the euphoric sense of infatuation up against the cares of determining if it was a truly wise direction to follow. “Well, as a matter of fact, there are many things to know.”

They entered the lavender room together and Miss Vincent joined them. “I have been wanting to know the sister of the intriguing Miss Mary.” She smiled warmly and Mary introduced them. “Miss Vincent comes from the coastal town of Scarborough. She has actually been sea bathing before.”

“Have you? I must know how it is done.”

“I am happy to give you all the details, though some are more palatable than others.” She shivered.

Elizabeth laughed. “Now I must know.”

“Perhaps in less crowded company.”

She nodded, more than a little intrigued.

The housekeeper, Mrs. Godly, joined them, followed by maids with trays. “We have some cordial and tea as well as some of our cook’s excellent tarts and small cakes. I think you will find it all to be delectable as she is much applauded in the area.”

An appreciative murmur and small exclamations of delight seemed to gratify Mrs. Godley enough. She curtseyed and left them to themselves.

“Shall I pour?” One of the ladies with calculating eyes stepped forward as acting hostess for their group. A more competitive side of Elizabeth would have bristled at that, but as things sat, she had no need to position herself in any which way. She was more of the mind of Mr. Darcy, seeking connection before posturing. Though she was rather particular about her tea. “Thank you. Shall I assist?”

The flat-lined smile sent in Elizabeth’s direction was not the friendliest of reactions, but she chose to ignore it. Perhaps she simply did not know how to be friendly. Though that idea was ridiculous, it was easier to swallow and respond to as well.

Miss Vincent and Mary laughed together while Elizabeth dealt with the flat-lipped tea pourer. “I don’t believe we have been introduced. I’m Elizabeth Bennet…”

The other woman sniffed and then nodded. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I’m Miss Winderly, from London.”

“Oh, you are the only person here from actual London, I do believe. So many are from so far.”

“I cannot account for it myself. Lord Shackley was a dear friend of my late governess.”

“And of your parents?”

“Certainly, though they have much less to do with me than my governess did.”

Much needed explanation in that situation in Elizabeth’s mind but she let it pass. “Do you know anyone else at the party?”

“Not from before, no. How about you?”

She was about to explain Mr. Darcy’s brief meeting but decided against it. “My sister. Mary Bennet.” She indicated Mary.

“Ah yes, she’s lovely.”

“Thank you.”

They poured and passed out tea to everyone’s specifications and at last for themselves. They moved to sit but not before Miss Winderly poured a sizable amount of cordial into her tea.

Elizabeth wondered at that but pretended she didn’t notice.

They had been offered cordial, had they not? Miss Winderly could drink of whatever she liked even if she hid it in her tea.

A shadow passed in the hall.

“Mr. Darcy!” One of the other two ladies nearly shrieked out his name.

He stepped back into the doorframe with his eyebrows up. “Yes?”

She rushed to his side and clung to his arm. “Would you care for some tea?” She nearly dragged him forward.

He paused their entrance. “I do believe I’m intruding, am I not?” His eyes sought Elizabeth, who could only shrug in general amusement.

He frowned as though she was no help. Which, in all honesty, she was too busy being entertained to assist. But as he fumbled his way forward with several excuses half-begun on his lips, she took a bit of mercy. “I think I heard that Lord Shackley plans to discuss our enjoyment with the men this evening. You do not wish Mr. Darcy to miss an opportunity to be paired with one of us.”

“Oh no!” She stepped back, nearly pushing him out. “Yes, I suppose we will all get a turn to be paired with you, no? Not simply always the same woman?” The flitting gaze that washed over Lizzie felt less than friendly. It was not her fault at all that she’d spent time with the much sought-after Mr. Darcy.

He glanced at Elizabeth then dipped his head. “I do hope to be paired with those Lord Shackley deems compatible as well as have an opportunity to know you all better.”

She seemed mildly pacified by his response and turned from him as he bowed to the room in general, then with one last look at Elizabeth, exited again.

What had he been doing wandering the halls anyway?

Miss Vincent stood at her side. “I suspect Mr. Darcy would prefer your company above all others here.”

She raised her eyebrows but Miss Vincent had moved away. Where had that come from?

At any rate, they had finished their tea and were growing restless before the men joined them.

Servants followed, and tables for cards were set up in different corners of the room.

Lord Shackley announced whist and chess, and soon table groups were clustered around each game.

Mary moved toward chess and Lord Perceval was about to join her, but Mr. Darcy, in a barely polite manner, slipped in the chair opposite. “Might I enjoy the pleasure of your company, Miss Mary?”

She nodded and to her credit did not fumble through her response. “It would be my pleasure. How are you at chess?”

Elizabeth tilted her head, unsure what to think about that development. She did wish for Mary to continue such a good connection with Lord Perceval. What was Mr. Darcy trying here?