Page 8 of A Most Favourable Match

Still amused, Bingley led the way towards the front door, his sisters pleading that they must stay on the paths due to their light footwear.

A stream of unwanted dance partners and mindless chatter? Bingley’s hopes for the Meryton Assembly sounded dreadful to Darcy’s ears, even without considering the necessary polite ritual of maintaining a careful but respectful distance from Caroline Bingley.

Well, he would grit his teeth and endure it at least once, hoping that with Lord Grantchester and Lord Keeble present, he might at least get some sensible conversation.

Chapter 3

“I do believe you are the finest looking man at the assembly, Lord Grantchester,” pronounced Mrs Bennet with great satisfaction and enough volume that Elizabeth blushed to hear her, even if Lord Grantchester himself only laughed off his future mother-in-law’s fawning. “And the best dressed. There cannot be another man here to match you!”

“Lord Keeble is very handsome too, Mrs Bennet,” replied Lord Grantchester with benevolent amusement and a smile to Jane, who stood beside him. “You must give my friend some credit for brightness of eye and liveliness of wit, surely?”

“Yes, do,” echoed Lord Keeble with a grin, equally unoffended by such over-personal remarks. “I very much like compliments, Mrs Bennet. In fact, I collect them wherever I can find them. I may be a very vain man.”

“Oh, indeed!” enthused Mrs Bennet, spilling drops of her punch onto a passing guest in her eagerness to extend her compliments to Lord Grantchester’s friend. “Lord Keeble is most handsome and eligible, too. Do you not think so, Lizzy? You cannot say that you have notnoticed. I do look forward to seeing you dancing together before long.”

Elizabeth had already been blushing for her mother’s lack of judgement, but at such blatant hints, she was forced to look away entirely. This was not the first time Mrs Bennet had made such a clumsy attempt to foist her onto Lord Keeble tonight. Her mother’s efforts were so marked, and made with so little attempt at discretion, as to be humiliating, especially in so public a place.

The knowing looks between local matrons spoke of their certainty that Elizabeth was angling to catch herself a rich man like her sister. Why did Mrs Bennet never seem to know when to stop? Elizabeth briefly wished herself in the anteroom where Mr Bennet and Mary had both taken refuge with their books among the pot plants and elderly widows.

“Miss Elizabeth is tired, I think,” Lord Keeble himself came to Elizabeth’s rescue with a small bow. Elizabeth smiled at him gratefully. Despite his own boundless sociability, Lord Keeble was always sensitive to the feelings of others in company. “Let us speak of dancing later. In the meantime, perhaps Miss Kitty or Miss Lydia would welcome another turn on the dance floor.”

“I certainly should,” announced Lydia, boldly taking Lord Keeble’s arm without waiting for any further invitation. “They’re going to play a reel next! Don’t you love a reel?”

“It’s not fair! It was my turn,” Kitty muttered sulkily as she watched them go. “There’s hardly any gentlemen here tonight, either.”

“Kitty,” Elizabeth said warningly, conscious of Lord Grantchester’s presence and Jane’s quiet demeanour. “There is plenty of time for dancing yet.”

Was Jane also feeling the same embarrassment as Elizabeth? Or did her reserve relate more to their mother’s loud trumpeting of her engagement to every acquaintance they met? While as pretty as ever in her fresh, white muslin, Jane seemed to be wilting like a flower in an inhospitable environment. Elizabeth hoped that Lord Grantchester would see this too and take her away to dance.

In any case, Elizabeth did not wish Lord Grantchester to feel obligated to abandon Jane and accompany Kitty in the reel. His attention was elsewhere, however. Lord Grantchester seemed to have spotted some acquaintance in the room and was turning to welcome them. For a moment, this puzzled Elizabeth. Surely Lord Grantchester had not been in Hertfordshire long enough to make any new acquaintance.

“It is his old friend, Mr Darcy, and Caroline Bingley, whom I met in London,” whispered Jane, who had stepped back shyly from her fiancée as a small group approached them. “I suppose the others must be Miss Bingley’s brother and sister.”

Elizabeth only had time to nod briefly before Lord Grantchester had turned back to them and begun introducing his friends, addressing Mrs Bennet first and then her daughters.

“Madame, allow me to introduce Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire, one of my oldest friends.”

A tall, well-built man with dark hair bowed towards Mrs Bennet, Elizabeth, and Kitty, although his eyes scarcely seemed to light on any of them.

“This gentleman is also a friend, Mr Charles Bingley, who has lately taken Netherfield Park and must be among your nearest neighbours.”

Fair-haired and amiable in expression, the second man smiled cheerfully and bowed to each of the Bennet ladies present. His sky-blue eyes opened a little more widely when he saw Jane, an effect she often had on young men, and sometimes older men too.

“May I also introduce Mr Bingley’s sisters, Miss Caroline Bingley, and Mrs Louisa Hurst, and of course, Mr Hurst.”

Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst dropped formal curtsies to the group, their superior smiles not lost on Elizabeth as Mrs Bennet curtsied far too low and gave one of her rather loud and affected laughs. Mr Hurst only grunted an acknowledgement, the redness of his nose and broken veins in his cheeks hinting that he might be more interested in drink than conversation.

“How wonderful to meet more of your friends, Lord Grantchester,” crowed Mrs Bennet before the introductions were completed. “We are honoured, Mr Darcy, Mr Bingley, Miss Bingley, Mr and Mrs Hurst. I do hope that you all like to dance…”

“This is Mrs Bennet, the mother of Miss Jane Bennet, whom you already know, I think,” Lord Grantchester moved on swiftly, “and this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Miss Kitty Bennet.”

Elizabeth and Jane curtsied and smiled politely, Kitty following their example.

“I certainly do like to dance,” Charles Bingley spoke up in answer to Mrs Bennet’s premature question. “Would you do me the honour, Miss Bennet?”

At this invitation, Jane looked almost alarmed, her pretty face blushing, although she had been pale all evening until now. No answer was required, however. Mrs Bennet laughed loudly again and shook her head at Mr Bingley.

“You had better ask Elizabeth to dance, Mr Bingley. Jane is already taken for the next dance and any others that Lord Grantchester might care to claim. Is that not so, Lord Grantchester?”