Miss Watson shook her head, taking the garment from Elizabeth’s hand. “You cannot wear this gown again!” she said. “You must wear something new.”
“I have nothing new,” Elizabeth replied, “and besides, I like this.”
“Your stepmother would never approve of you wearing this in public a third time, when she has provided an allowance specifically to furnish all the best fashions for you both!” She replaced the gown in the wardrobe and said with a wide smile, “If you will not wear the gray, you will have to wear something else new.”
“I told you, I have not bought a new dress in ages,” Elizabeth said, though she could tell by her governess’ tone that she had something specific in mind.
“Yes, I know,” Miss Watson said, still smiling from ear to ear. “I know you are never interested in these things, which is why it is very lucky for you both that I am interested. I have ordered new gowns for you, made exactly to each of your specifications, and this morning they arrived downstairs.”
Jane was rather more enthusiastic in her thanks than Elizabeth, but both girls felt all that was well-meaning and generous in their governess’ actions. That Lady Sarah demanded both girls be the absolute best dressed and most fashionable of their set, that Miss Watson was more than willing to support that wish however she could, and that the result of both of their efforts was a continual stream of attention from men and women alike were truths that the eldest Bennet sisters had more or less learned to accept. Jane, being more easygoing than Elizabeth, never suspected any harm would come from such gifts. Elizabeth could not be so sanguine, however. She could not teach her mind to forget that, though she was being supported by Lady Sarah now, she had little dowry to bring to her future. She could not help but feel disingenuous when she wore a gown that her natural family, without Lady Sarah’s fortune, never could have purchased.
It was the Easter holidays, and because the Miss Bennets were boarding at the school with their governess while most of their friends had been summoned home, Elizabeth and Jane had expected little pleasure for the week. Their expectations were most fortuitously altered, however, by the invitation sent by Miss Whipple to all of the young ladies in Mrs. Robinson’s school to attend a party being given by a cousin of hers. The occasion was that a foreign guest had come to town, and Miss Whipple had been charged with bringing as many of her school friends as possible for his amusement.
Jane and Elizabeth followed Miss Watson downstairs, where she had hidden the gowns purposely to surprise her young charges. Elizabeth could not long be suspicious or ungrateful when she saw the gown that her governess had purchased for her. It was emerald green in shimmering velvet, with a skirt that would flow most marvelously whenever its wearer spun around. Elizabeth’s eager eyes devoured it, and her hands followed, and Miss Watson had all the thanks she needed when she saw the sisters look up into each other’s eyes after beholding the gowns she had carefully selected for each of them and burst into excited laughter.
“They are perfect!” Jane said, turning then to their governess, who was also laughing. “Thank you. But what made you think to buy them? We had not known a week ago that there would be any such occasion.”
“We must always be prepared, however,” Miss Watson replied, smiling. The truth was that Lady Sarah had written to her and demanded that the girls have new dresses for the spring. She could not trust them to purchase these on their own, for the girls had never fully adjusted to the level of affluence in which her marriage to their father had placed them. For all their accomplishments, new connections, and fashionable possessions, their hearts were still humble, their wishes still modest, their tastes still simple. Miss Watson, as an admirer of all things fashionable, was much more to be trusted in all such matters, and Lady Sarah had sent a special clothing allowance to her for the purpose.
“It is so beautiful,” Elizabeth said, “that I am almost embarrassed to wear it.”
“Nonsense!” cried Miss Watson. “A young lady as beautiful as you absolutely must have a beautiful gown, as well. There can be no two opinions on the subject. You are required to be seen, and you shall make everybody envious when they see you!”
Such an idea was hardly a comfort to either Miss Bennet, but they did not object. Submitting to their governess’s wishes was a habit they had developed for many years. She had been with them before their stepmother had, and her preferences for their lives—without having their mother to guide them—had long been their highest rule of right.
Having no carriage of their own to bring them to the party, the ladies’ governess hired a carriage for their use, and they departed the school promptly at 9 o’clock that evening. The party was not far outside of town, in a mansion house to which they had never been. Without any gentlemen to escort them inside, the Bennet sisters liked to arrive rather later than the other guests to such parties. It had been Jane’s idea nearly a year before, when Elizabeth had first come out, that they were less likely to be observed walking inside with only their governess to escort them, if they arrived after the party had become crowded. This evening was no exception, but Jane’s plan of concealing her entrance did not quite work as it usually did. They entered the hall, having very little idea of whose home it was, and were met with the curious looks of at least a dozen gentlemen, all of whom were standing in the same room—at the moment, utterly devoid of ladies.
“Oh,” Miss Watson said under her breath, glancing at the Miss Bennets with surprise. “I—” Words seemed to fail her, and all three of them were just beginning to wonder the same thing—were they indeed at the right house for the party?—when a brown-haired, smart-looking young man approached them with a bow.
“Friends, I must apologize to you, for this must seem excessively odd. I told Mrs. Bilton it would be so, but she would have her game.”
“Her game, sir?” Miss Watson asked.
The young man chuckled, and behind him several other men laughed uproariously, though neither Elizabeth nor Jane could find humor in their present circumstances.
“We are playing forfeits,” he said, “but Mrs. Bilton did not want the ladies to have to perform any forfeits, and so she sent the gentlemen away, that they might all conspire and scheme against us.” This was spoken in so lighthearted a way that Elizabeth did not think it could be quite true, but Jane was particularly shocked by the idea.
“What?” she said. “And leave you here to be victims of their tricks? Why, how unfair! I cannot think—”
“There, there, Miss,” the young man said, smiling at Jane—whom he had only just now noticed was uncommonly pretty. “We each have our own bag of forfeits, you see,” he said, “and we are scheming just as they are. You need not worry on our behalves.”
Jane was embarrassed, but her blush made her only more becoming, and when at that moment, Mrs. Bilton opened the door to summon the gentlemen back into her drawing room, the brown-haired gentleman was rather disappointed to leave her behind.
The introductions then ensuing between the ladies and their hostess, who had indeed asked Miss Whipple to bring friends, were performed most pleasantly. How sorry she was to have created a situation in which they felt uncomfortable, and how pleased she was that they had come, and how lovely the girls were, were all her thoughts and words until they could rejoin the rest of the party in the next room.
Games were played, music was had, and refreshments were served, all while Elizabeth awaited the beginning of the dancing. There were several young men at this party whom she had seen before and would not be sorry to stand up with, but she was not shy about meeting somebody new, either. Her spirits were high, and her lively temper made her eager to dance and be merry, regardless of her partner. This attitude Jane had never shared, and Elizabeth was sitting near her sister and attempting to persuade her to join a game, when the ladies were approached by the same brown-haired gentleman.
“Forgive me, madame,” he said to Jane, “for approaching you without being introduced. We met in the hall, you see, and th
erefore I feel we are nearly acquainted already.”
Jane smiled, rising to her feet. “Indeed, sir, there need be no ceremony. I am sure we are indebted to you, for we did not expect to find only gentlemen in the hall when the servant led us in.”
“All harmless, however,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “All quite harmless.” Then, looking at Elizabeth for a moment, he turned back to Jane and said, “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Thomas Pembroke.” This was said with such pomp that it seemed he believed they must have heard of him before—yet neither sister had. Jane was so impressed by the delivery of these words that she could not quite muster the courage to answer him.
Elizabeth looked across the room toward Miss Watson, who was standing with another governess near the window and very engaged in speaking with her. Supposing the task of introductions must fall to her, she told him their names and professed themselves delighted to meet him. The gentleman, either due to infatuation with her sister or some other character flaw that made him a gentleman in name only, said not another word to Elizabeth. Without so much as a glance toward her, he bowed again to Jane, complimented her on her beauty, and asked her for the first two dances.
“I would be delighted, sir,” Jane said, smiling so becomingly that Mr. Pembroke probably believed she cared more for him than she did. Jane had never turned down any offer to dance in Elizabeth’s memory.
The younger sister was not alone for long, however. Shortly afterward, Elizabeth was approached by another gentleman, one whom she recognized from a party that winter.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” the young man said, bowing to her. “I had not known I would have the pleasure of seeing you tonight. Are you much acquainted with Mrs. Bilton and her family?”
“No, not at all,” Elizabeth answered. “How do you do, Mr. Fox?”
“I am very well, I thank you,” he said. “Or, I shall be well, after you tell me you will dance with me.”
She looked again toward Miss Watson, then back at the gentleman. “I do not believe it will be in my power, sir,” she said. “I do thank you, however.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Not in your power?”
“Nay, sir,” she replied. “Is that not what you told my friend Miss Margaret Campbell at the Sandersons’ Christmas party this winter, when it was suggested to you to dance with her?”
“I—do not recall,” he stuttered.
Elizabeth said firmly, “You did, for I remember it quite plainly. She had been seated for one dance, and you came in from playing cards, and your cousin Mr. Finley said—”
Interrupting her, he said, “You have a very good memory, better than my own. I do remember now. It was out of my power, indeed, to dance, for I did not know the steps.”
Elizabeth’s loyalty to her friend, and her disgust with petty nonsense—for she knew that the gentleman had only refused to dance with Margaret because she was plain—made her behave rather worse than she knew she ought. Cheekily, she replied, “And I do not know the steps to this one.”
Being young and beautiful as she was, Elizabeth had no fear of sitting down long. She walked away and was almost immediately found out by another gentleman whom she had seen at other parties that winter. He was tall and sandy-haired, and not at all arrogant in his speech to her. She liked him well enough to accept, and her enjoyment with him was not materially lessened by her observation of Margaret’s insulter dancing with another young lady just three couples down.
“I understand,” the young man said, “that you are acquainted with the Radcliffe family.”
“My stepmother is Lady Sarah, the earl’s youngest sister,” she replied. “But how did you hear about that?”
“Everybody knows it,” he said. “How dull an evening like this must seem, compared with what you are used to!”
“What am I used to, sir?”
“Nobility,” he said with a laugh. “Why, I can tell only from your gown that you are a class above the ordinary ladies one meets at a ball.”
Elizabeth, not agreeing but being rather too annoyed to reply, said nothing.
“I was honored that you agreed to dance with me.”
“I love to dance,” she said noncommittally, glancing again for Miss Watson, whom she could not see—for, unbeknownst to Elizabeth, her governess had just learned some very shocking news about another young woman she knew working in education, and her interest in this circumstance kept her from being as attentive as she ordinarily would be.
“I suppose you dance with everybody,” the sandy-haired gentleman said.
Elizabeth was not sorry that the dance necessitated a momentary parting between them, and when they reunited, she began to speak of something else.
There were indeed many dancing partners to be had that evening—neither sister was ever without a partner—but Elizabeth was disappointed to find most had a similar opinion of her to Mr. Fox’s. The name “Radcliffe” was spoken enough that even Lady Sarah would have tired of it. Nobody likes being pandered to, but for Elizabeth this treatment was all the more inappropriate when she considered how little privilege she truly had—she, who had no allowance for anything but gowns, who had no dowry to speak of, and who lived a life entirely guided by the whims of a stepmother whose affection she could never quite win.
Jane was not more pleased with the evening than Elizabeth was, though at least her night had a better beginning. Her fortunes took a turn, however, of a most unexpected and unpleasant nature. While the dancers and musicians took a short break, Mr. Bilton called for another round of forfeits—for they had been drawing items from a hat all evening.
Elizabeth had just gone to rejoin Jane, and they were standing together when the judge pulled a pocket watch from the hat. It was Mr. Pembroke’s.
“How odd,” Jane whispered to Elizabeth, “for he had it when he danced with me. I do not know when they could have taken it!”
“What shall I do to win back my watch, sir?” Mr. Pembroke asked the judge.
With a salacious smile, the man said, “You must kiss the most beautiful creature in this room.”
What an astonishing forfeit! The ladies all gasped, the gentleman laughed, and Elizabeth and Jane were quite diverted—until they observed that Mr. Pembroke was coming toward them.
Poor Jane! That she could have avoided notice was always a top wish of hers, and instead of being unseen and unnoticed, she was observed by all—and probably the object of considerable envy—as Mr. Pembroke came toward her and drew her hand into his, dramatically pushed back her sleeve, and kissed her firmly on the wrist.
The gasps and laughter in the room soon dissolved into scattered noises as the music resumed and the dancers reassembled. Only Elizabeth, Jane, and Mr. Pembroke were left reeling from the incident that had occurred—though Mr. Pembroke’s condition, in fairness, could not be pitied. He was delighted with himself. The ladies’ blushes he perceived as flattering, and their silence he believed was an invitation for speech of his own.
“I would be delighted if you would dance with me again, madame, though I know it may be frowned upon for us to dance together twice.”
“Oh, as to all that,” Jane said softly, “I never heed—that is, I am perfectly happy to—”
Without allowing her to finish, Mr. Pembroke took Jane’s hand and led her into the dance. Elizabeth was left to stare after them, quite dumbstruck. What an inappropriate liberty for a man to take with a young lady he did not know! And Mr. Bilton, she suspected, must be in on the scheme—for if Mr. Pembroke had truly had his pocket watch while he danced with Jane, then there ought to have been no opportunity for Mr. Bilton to get it.
Mr. Pembroke was forward. As the evening progressed, he became increasingly forceful and enthusiastic, never willing to let Jane leave him. In fact, Elizabeth observed Jane attempt multiple times to extract herself from his conversation, but he always pressed on, and in the face of such perseverance, Jane had not the determination to extricate herself from him.
Miss Watson did a
t last return to her regular duties, and when she did, she was as alarmed as Elizabeth had been to see the young man’s behavior toward Jane—though her alarm considerably lessened when another woman told her the amount of Mr. Pembroke’s fortune and income. However, preserving Jane’s reputation until she was fully assured of Mr. Pembroke’s faithful and lasting regard must be a priority. She approached Elizabeth, who herself was rather overwhelmed with potential dancing partners, and said, “My dearest girl, will you mind terribly if we end our evening early?”
“Not at all,” Elizabeth replied, eagerly stepping away from another gentleman who had just come to ask her to dance. “Good night to you, sir,” she said in parting, unable to conceal the relief she felt from manifesting in a broad smile.
Jane, too, was ready to come away at her governess’s bidding. She could not leave Mr. Pembroke, however, without his pressing to know more about her—where she lived, what her family did, and when he might see her again. She told him the name of her school but had little time for anything else before Miss Watson led her away. However, it was enough for Mr. Pembroke. Being a dear family friend of Miss Whipple, he knew that he could easily arrange to see Miss Jane Bennet again—and that was precisely what he planned to do.
How the ladies that evening rejoiced to see the Bennet sisters depart! Jane with her beauty, and Elizabeth with her charm, had monopolized the notice of the gentlemen for long enough. Their fashionable gowns, elegant hairstyles, and enviable connections were odious to all the ladies. Who could stand having such competition? Jane at least could be pitied by some for Mr. Pembroke’s shocking actions in forfeits, but Elizabeth had won no such good will. She followed her governess away, relieved to leave behind her a string of young ladies whose envy of her exceeded any pity they could have known for how overwhelmed and bewildered she felt.
CHAPTER 6
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Mr. Darcy & Elizabeth Page 6
