The 26th of November, a Pride and Prejudice Comedy of Farcical Proportions

by Elizabeth Adams

  Not getting the answer she wanted, Caroline began to rise from her seat when Elizabeth made a sound resembling a snort. Caroline looked at her through narrowed eyes.

  “Does something amuse you, Miss Eliza?”

  “You do,” said Elizabeth, her good humor restored. And by Miss Bingley of all people!

  “Me?” Caroline was incredulous and curious at the same time. “What have I done that is so amusing?”

  “Your relentless pursuit of a man who has no interest in you whatsoever is quite amusing, Miss Bingley.” She tilted her head to the side slightly. “Though it is also sad, in a way. I’m sure someone somewhere would appreciate what you have to offer. It is a pity Mr. Darcy does not.”

  Caroline flushed more deeply than anyone Elizabeth had ever seen. She would have felt sorry for her actions if Caroline was not also shooting daggers at her with her eyes.

  “How dare you!” Caroline said in a low voice, filled with venom.

  “I speak nothing but the truth, Miss Bingley. I know it is hard to hear sometimes, but there it is.”

  Caroline huffed. “You know nothing! How dare you say such things to me!”

  “How dare you hound a man who is simply trying to enjoy his friend’s company and a little hunting in the country!”

  Caroline gasped and leaned closer. “I do not hound him,” she whispered furiously. “I see to his needs, like a good hostess. Something you would know nothing about.”

  Elizabeth made no effort to hide how her eyes rolled at that statement. “Mr. Darcy has given you no encouragement and shown you no attention above that of his hostess and his close friend’s sister. Has he ever given you reason, true reason, to believe he intends to offer for you?”

  Caroline’s jaw clenched.

  “Or have you simply been hoping to wear him down? If that is your plan, I believe you are doomed to failure. Mr. Darcy is not one to tire easily, and if he finds himself annoyed by his company, he may simply leave. He is his own man. If you believe he will come to appreciate your qualities, you are deluding yourself. How long have you known him? How often have you been in company? If he wanted you, he would have proposed by now. He has not, so he must not desire your company for the remainder of his life.”

  The last bit had perhaps been a bit harsh, but really, Elizabeth had been talked down to, insulted, ignored, and treated shabbily by this woman from almost the first moment of their acquaintance. Caroline deserved whatever she got.

  “You scheming little chit!” Caroline hissed. “Who are you? What do your opinions matter to me? You know nothing of Town, or the ton, or fashionable society.” She flicked the lace on the sleeve of Elizabeth’s best gown and sniffed. “As if the opinion of a Bennet matters to anyone. You are as ridiculous as your mother.”

  She might have left peacefully had Caroline not compared her to her mother. “At least I do not throw myself at men who do not desire my company. I may be a girl from the country, but the name Bennet has long been a proud one in Hertfordshire. We have held our estate for seven generations. Can you say the same?”

  Caroline flushed again and sneered at Elizabeth.

  “My mother may be ridiculous at times, but she loves her children and wants the best for them. Do you want the best for your brother? Or are all your machinations for your own selfish gain?”

  Caroline sneered and finally said, “You question me? About my family?” Her affront knew no bounds and her indignation could not be contained.

  Elizabeth stood and grasped the back of her chair with both hands. “I am a gentleman’s daughter from a long line of landed gentlemen. You know what they say, Miss Bingley,” she looked down her nose like a practiced society matron and spoke deliberately, “blood will out.”

  She turned on her heel and left the dining room. In a matter of minutes, she had gathered her cloak, asked a footman to inform her father she was leaving, and set off for Longbourn in the moonlight. She did not notice the tall man watching her leave from an upper window, nor did she notice the hot tears spilling down her cheeks.

  Chapter 13

  One Last Try

  The next day was Tuesday once again, but Elizabeth couldn’t bring herself to care. She went through her morning ablutions with a heavy heart, though she couldn’t really say why. She thought it was distress at her many quarrels the day before, or exhaustion from the late night. It could be fatigue from this entire ordeal, living the same experiences day after day after day. She had many reasons to feel anxious and tired. But she knew in her heart it was none of these things.

  No, her distress was wrapped up in a tall man from Derbyshire, and his unerring sense of duty that would not allow him to court her, or even call on her; he certainly would never offer for her. Somehow, knowing that he wished to, that if the decision was merely his and he had no family name to consider, no sister in his care, no grand estate to plan for, made it more painful.

  She would not want a man who shirked his duty. She would not want a man who cared little for his own family or thought nothing of how his decisions affected them. It would have been so much easier to think him a coward and hate him for it. She couldn’t even be properly angry with him.

  She could not agree that their alliance would be so very bad, but she could respect his wish to honor his family name, and his desire to not hurt her by raising expectations he could not fulfill.

  If only she had a proper dowry! Or at least one important relation on whose name she might trade. But she did not. She was Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn, a small estate in Hertfordshire. Nothing more, and nothing less.

  ~

  She could not continue like this. Her heart was a little more wounded each time she danced with him, each time she drew out that almost smile. She was so very happy at the thought of seeing him again, and so very sad when she remembered that he did not come to each ball with the memory of their past dances and conversations. He did not feel a little closer to her each time they danced or conversed.

  She could not take this anymore! Something must be done! She had no idea why she was repeating the same day incessantly, but she could not simply sit back and allow her life to be taken over by some horrible curse. She must act.

  She had stopped her family from embarrassing themselves, encouraged Bingley to propose, worked on Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley. None of it had worked.

  But… she had never tried all of her plans together. Armed with the most intricate plan of all, Elizabeth set to work.

  Her first stop was Jane’s room, where she encouraged her sister to encourage Mr. Bingley. She knew Jane would need to be told multiple times and in a variety of ways throughout the day, so Elizabeth started early. Then she went to Mary. Her next youngest sister was given sheet music for the evening, unsolicited advice for her attire, and an offer to help with her hair.

  Elizabeth next made her way to the stillroom with a bottle of laudanum, then asked Lydia to try the mulberry wine she had made. (She was in no mood to try another attack on the stairs.) Once Lydia was safely ensconced in her bed, Elizabeth took tea to her mother, and brought the bottle of wine just in case. Soon Mrs. Bennet was sleeping peacefully and Elizabeth stopped by Jane’s room to give her another round of reassurance. She was already feeling fatigue from her exertions, but at the same time she felt an undercurrent of energy.

  Her plan just might work.

  When she arrived at the ball—and survived her awful dance with Mr. Collins (that was one event that never improved with experience), she did everything in her power to convince Miss Bingley not to leave Hertfordshire. She complimented her looks, scared her with stories of disease in London, and hinted that her intimacy with Mr. Darcy was greatly increased while they resided in the same house. She left Miss Bingley looking thoughtful and sought out Mr. Bingley for a set.

  They were halfway through the dance when she boldly asked, “Are you a good brother, Mr. Bingley?” He looked at her with confusion and she continued, “I would like to know what I am getting into.” She smiled
slyly and he flushed crimson and looked at Jane.

  She would have thought herself too bold but for her knowledge that he truly did care for her sister and only wanted a little nudge to propose. She saw the moment he gathered his courage and decided to speak.

  “Yes, I believe I am a good brother, but Louisa and Caroline would probably be better judges of that.”

  She thought differently, but she kept that to herself. “I am glad to hear it.” The dance separated them for a moment and when she returned to him she said, “Am I to gain such a good brother soon, do you think?”

  He was clearly shocked by her audacity, but Elizabeth was well past the point of caring whom she shocked anymore.

  When his face returned to its usual color, he said, “I imagine it will be soon, Miss Elizabeth. I see no reason to delay.”

  She smiled brightly at him. “I am so very glad to hear that, Mr. Bingley. I am certain my sister will be, too.”

  “Truly? You believe she is ready to,” he fumbled for words and turned about in the dance, then returned to her looking flustered but determined. “It is your belief that Jane is ready to receive my proposals?”

  “She is ready and eager, Mr. Bingley. You need have no concerns on that count.”

  He smiled so brightly she could count all his teeth and skipped through the movements like a colt in spring. She could not restrain her laughter and he joined her, spinning her about a bit too strongly, but they were both too happy to truly mind.

  “Soon I shall claim a brother’s privilege and call you Lizzy,” he said, proud as a peacock.

  “I would like that. Shall I then call you Charlie?”

  He made a face and she laughed at it, prompting him to smile and say, “You may if you wish. Louisa called me Charlie when I was a boy, as did my mother, but no one has done so in many years.”

  She thought she saw sadness behind the brightness in his eyes and her heart went out to him. The dance ended and as she rose from her curtsy she said, “Then I shall look forward to a sister’s privilege. Now go claim Jane before someone else does!”

  He practically ran across the room and took her sister’s hand, whispering in Jane’s ear. Soon they were walking out to the garden and Elizabeth was sighing with relief. So far, all was going according to plan.

  “Is Mr. Bingley going to propose, do you think?” asked Charlotte.

  Elizabeth smiled. “He is. He as much as told me so during our dance.”

  “Truly?” Charlotte looked impressed.

  “They will be very happy together, I think.”

  “Yes, I think they are well-suited. Your mother will be pleased.”

  Elizabeth groaned. “Do not remind me of what is to come. I was having such a lovely evening.”

  Charlotte laughed at her friend. “What mother wouldn’t be happy at seeing a daughter so well settled? And if Mr. Collins marries one of her daughters, her home will be secured for her lifetime.”

  “I do not think that will happen,” said Elizabeth firmly.

  “You intend to refuse him then?” asked Charlotte.

  Elizabeth whipped her head to look at her friend. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised Charlotte had noticed her cousin’s dogged pursuit of her. “Yes, I do. He would make me miserable, and I am certain I would make him so. I don’t know what Mama was thinking when she pushed him towards me.”

  “She was thinking Jane would make a match with Mr. Bingley and you were the next eldest. Not to mention the prettiest of the remaining sisters.”

  “How neatly you qualify remaining sisters,” she teased. “I know I am not as pretty as Jane—”

  “No one is as pretty as Jane,” interrupted Charlotte.

  Elizabeth nodded in agreement. “But Kitty is quite pretty, and Mary is more attractive when she makes an effort. Besides, I believe Mama put me forward because I am her least favorite, not because of my seniority. She did not want to waste one of her favorites on Mr. Collins.”

  Charlotte made a face. “You may be right. Your mother’s tastes have always been suspect.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “What a true friend you are! How shall I repay you for such a lovely compliment?”

  “Convince Mr. Darcy to dance with me. My mother will not be able to stop crowing of it and it will bring me no end of amusement.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Very well, my friend, I will do it if it can be done.”

  Charlotte looked over her friend’s shoulder. “Good, because I believe Mr. Darcy is coming over to ask you to dance.”

  After sharing a mischievous look with Charlotte, Elizabeth turned and smiled brightly at Mr. Darcy. She accepted his request for the next set and Charlotte would have teased her mercilessly for it had Jane not come rushing over to tell them about her engagement to Charles Bingley. Bingley had gone straight to Mr. Bennet to ask for his blessing and an audience the next morning. Elizabeth was truly happy for her sister, and when Mr. Darcy collected her for their dance, she was positively glowing.

  “Is it not a lovely evening, Mr. Darcy?” she asked dreamily, floating on the happy cloud of her success and her sister’s happiness.

  “Yes, quite.”

  “Come now, Mr. Darcy! You can do better than that! The moon is bright, the stars are shining, the music is lively, and your partner is light of foot. Could anything improve this night?”

  He smiled at her joy and said, “You are quite right, Miss Elizabeth. There is everything to be pleased with tonight.”

  “That’s much better. Now what shall we talk about?”

  The left side of his mouth quirked up again in the half smile she had come to know so well. “Tell me what you would most like to hear and I will endeavor to oblige you.”

  She shook her head and said, “Tell me about Pemberley.” His surprise was obvious so she helped him along. “Does it have a large wood?”

  “Yes, the woods are extensive.”

  “Are there riding or walking trails throughout? What manner of wildlife live in it? Is there a brook or river you fish in?”

  His half-smile appeared again and she looked at him expectantly. “Very well, Miss Elizabeth. I see what you are after. There is a brook of a decent size, and a few smaller streams, and most of them run into the larger river on the east side of the estate.”

  He continued talking, telling her about the deer and the birds and the seasons of the Peak District. She asked about the river and the lake he told her stood near the house. He spoke of his favorite place to fish and she agreed it sounded lovely. He gave her an overview of the entire estate, from the house to the home farm to the hunting lodge, and she asked intelligent questions and remained interested throughout their two dances. She had never heard him speak with such ease or at such length, and both were a little surprised when the music stopped and the other dancers began bowing to their partners.

  “Thank you for the dance, Mr. Darcy. It was delightful.”

  “The pleasure was mine, Miss Elizabeth.” He bowed very correctly.

  “I wonder if I might ask a favor of you?”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “My dearest friend, Charlotte Lucas, has not had many partners tonight. Would you be so kind as to ask her to dance?” When she saw his serious expression she added hastily, “She is an excellent dancer, sir, and her conversation is well informed.” She smiled beguilingly and felt a moment of triumph when she saw his shoulders relax slightly and his resolve give way.

  “Very well. I shall ask her.”

  She beamed at him. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. It is kind of you.”

  Elizabeth had a very pleasant ball after that. Her mother and Lydia were not there to embarrass her, Mary played a simple—and blessedly short—song at supper, and her father announced Jane’s engagement. Elizabeth thought he made the announcement partially to aggravate her mother. Mrs. Bennet would be terribly put out when she found out she had missed not only the most important ball of the season, but her own daughter’s engagement. Elizabeth chose not to worry abo
ut it. She would never be able to change her parents, and it would be futile to try. But she would remember to keep laudanum on hand in future.

  Finally, the ball came to a close. Elizabeth happily fetched her cloak and was about to wrap it about her when it was taken from her hands. She looked up into the dark eyes of Mr. Darcy.

  “Allow me, Miss Elizabeth.”

  She nodded silently and he wrapped the cloak around her shoulders with the utmost care. He fastened the button at the top and his hands lingered there for just a moment until Elizabeth broke the silence.

  “I would like some fresh air. Will you escort me?”

  “Of course.”

  He led her out the front door and down the steps, out of the way of the drive where carriages were being pulled up and loaded with passengers. They stepped off the gravel into the grass where the house receded, falling into the shadow of the grand structure.

  Elizabeth took a deep breath and looked up at the stars, then to Mr. Darcy.

  “Thank you for dancing with Charlotte. That was kind of you.”

  “You need not thank me. It is the duty of gentlemen at balls.”

  She swallowed her laugh and looked at his profile. He really was terribly handsome. “Jane also enjoyed her dance with you.”

  “She is to marry my friend,” he said by way of explanation.

  She smiled. He was so very proud, and so very sure of being right, but she did not find it as off putting as she once had. She would almost call it endearing now. In essentials, he was a very good sort of man. He was wanting in liveliness and manners, but the right person might bring out a lighter side to him, and his manners could improve with time.

  She ceased her musing long enough to notice Mr. Darcy staring at her, his dark eyes fixed on hers.

  “Forgive me, sir, I was woolgathering.”

  “May I ask to where your thoughts roamed?”

  She flushed. “I do not think that would interest you, Mr. Darcy.”

  “Oh?”

  She wondered how he could disarm her with one tiny word.