Page 24 of Most Truly the Gentleman

“Very well. We shall seek him out as soon as the roads are passable.”

Lydia pouted and sulked for a full day, hardly deigning to speak to anyone, before arriving at breakfast in her usual high spirits, though she yet refused to acknowledge Kitty’s presence. Mrs Bennet, too, had been unusually quiet the previous day, though she had set aside some time to complain of her nerves and of people who seemed intent upon trying them.

On this morning, however, she and Lydia chattered on about whether the rain would affect the soldiers’ training, and whether it might be hoped that a fresh stock of ribbons would arrive at the milliner’s on Monday. Mary and Mr Collins were absorbed in a convoluted discussion of the variances between the gospels of Luke and of John, but the rest of the family beheld the cheerful conversation between Mrs Bennet and her youngest with some bemusement.

Lydia had nothing to say to her sisters when they assembled in the parlour, spreading the contents of her sewing box across the work table and holding scraps of fabric and ribbon up to the light until she had assembled a small pile. Cutting out what appeared to be the pieces of a new reticule, she sat in the chair next to her mother’s and, once Mrs Bennet joined them after her daily conference with the housekeeper, they spoke of neighbourhood gossip and of the officers, as though all were as it had been three days before.

The reason for Lydia’s good humour emerged later in the day, when Jane ventured to praise her for accepting her punishment with good grace. “La!” the girl exclaimed, tossing her head, “Papa will have forgot all about it by Tuesday. How silly I should feel then if I had not made ready! Do you not think this reticule I am making will go well with my green ballgown?”

Jane was entirely at a loss for how best to respond, that was clear. Elizabeth ventured, in as mild a tone as she could manage, “I do not think my father is likely to allow you to attend.”

Mrs Bennet replied sharply, “I have been married to him for three and twenty years, Miss Lizzy. I think I know him better than you do. He becomes cross about some trifle or another, blusters about, and then his mind turns back to his books, and it is as though there was never a quarrel at all. Lydia shall attend the ball.” She turned and beamed at her youngest. “I think it probable that Mr Bingley will invite some of his friends from town. It may be that you will meet your future husband there!”

Lydia giggled. “Only if his friends are officers! I shall not marry any man who is not in a red coat, I am determined. Still, it may be that I will dance with my future husband at Netherfield, for the officers here like me very well, you know.”

Mrs Bennet heartily agreed and Elizabeth, with some effort, held her tongue. It would do no one any good to anger Lydia now, and besides, she was not entirely certain that her father would hold fast in the end.

16

THE BALL AT NETHERFIELD

“Miss Bennet, you are a vision,” Mr Bingley declared when Jane, on her father’s arm, appeared before him in the receiving line. He bowed to the family. “Mr Bennet, Mr Collins, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, Miss Catherine, how do you do? But where are Mrs Bennet and Miss Lydia?”

“My father feels Lydia is too young for such an event,” Jane said, smiling, “and Mama unfortunately is unwell tonight. She is most disappointed to miss the occasion.”

Mr Bingley uttered words of sympathy, and Elizabeth exchanged a glance with her father. Though Jane had not been untruthful, her brief reply had contained no hint of the utter chaos which had erupted as they made to leave for the evening.

They had been assembled in Longbourn’s front vestibule, donning their cloaks and coats, when Lydia came tripping down the stairs in her ballgown, wearing Mrs Bennet’s pearls, demanding that Mrs Hill fetch her cloak. Elizabeth’s heart had sunk; either there was a confrontation ahead, or her father would give way and Lydia would be allowed to come to the ball. Neither was desirable, though the former was preferable.

Mr Bennet had sharply asked what she thought she was doing, and upon hearing her careless reply that she was going to the ball, had made it clear that the only place she was going tonight was back upstairs, where silly, disobedient little girls must stay while their better-behaved sisters enjoyed a night of entertainment.

Lydia had shrieked that she was not a little girl, she was a woman grown, claiming that ‘all the officers’ were expecting to dance with her. Mr Bennet had no sympathy for her or these forlorn swains, and remained unmoved. Neither had Mrs Bennet’s wails and pleas done anything to sway him, much to Elizabeth’s relief. She would not have been at all surprised had the plaster begun to crack from the cacophony her mother and sister were creating.

“Mrs Hill,” he had said even as they continued to assault his ears with their complaints, “please take Lydia to her room.” There had been a distinct martial glint to the housekeeper’s gaze as she marched up to the youngest Bennet, seized her by the arm, and pulled her towards the stairs.

“Why are you so cruel, Mr Bennet?” the lady of the house had wailed. “You would deny your daughter a night of entertainment and the chance to secure a husband, merely for a bit of flirtation with a handsome officer?”

“For not having the sense to stay well away from a known seducer, I most certainly shall!” he had declared, his temper fraying. “And as for marriage, she is far too young and far too ignorant for it, though I admit the notion of allowing her to become some other man’s problem is tempting.” Though Elizabeth was proud of her father for standing firm, she would have wished he had not chosen to say something quite so provocative just then.

“You have no compassion for my nerves! You care not that I have such tremblings, such flutterings all over me, such pains in my head, and all from your unkindness!”

“It sounds as though you are very unwell indeed, my dear.” She had agreed eagerly, only for him to reply, “In that case, you had best take one of your tonics and go to bed. Come, Collins, come, girls, let us leave your mother in peace and hope she will be well again tomorrow.” He had ushered them out as Mrs Bennet stood gaping like a fish at this sudden reversal of fortune.

Miss Bingley’s welcome was civil, but decidedly chillier than her brother’s. Once past her, they entered the ballroom and separated to greet their friends. Elizabeth made directly for Charlotte and discreetly gave her to know that their plans had apparently been for naught, as Mr Collins had hardly strayed from Mary’s side since the evening at Haye-Park.

“That must be a great relief to you, however,” Charlotte said. “I am a little disappointed, but it is better for your family that he wed one of your sisters, and one who is much more suited to him.”

“The only one who is at all suited to him,” Elizabeth agreed. “But we shall find someone for you, my dear friend. Unless I miss my guess, we are very likely to meet all of Mr Bingley’s friends in the coming year.”

“I would very much like to be married,” Charlotte replied wistfully. “To have my own home to manage how I like, children to love and raise, and the knowledge that I will not be a burden on my brother when Father is gone.”

“Your brother would not mind at all if you lived with him forever,” Elizabeth objected.

“No, but whomever he marries very well might.”

That, Elizabeth could not deny. Much as she often wished for the security of a loving brother, she could very well imagine how uncomfortable it would be to live in a household where the mistress resented her for claiming a share of resources that would otherwise fall to her and her children. “It would be so very convenient if I could fall in love with your brother, and he with me, but alas, neither of us is so inclined.”

Charlotte laughed. “I have wished for that often, myself.”