Mr. Darcy and the Secret of Becoming a Gentleman (5 page)

The Summer Assembly at Meryton

As he dressed for the assembly, Darcy tried to calm his nerves and stop squirming. He was sure his valet had already noticed his odd behavior. He had asked the man twice what he had chosen for him to wear for the evening. While not an unreasonable question in itself, it was an inquiry that Darcy hardly ever made. When he asked for the second time, having failed to listen for an answer to his first request, his man could not hide his astonishment.

To make matters worse, Darcy knew this was not the first time in the last two days that he had appeared inattentive or out of character. He had returned from Longbourn in a swirl of emotions, choosing to retire to his room after a perfunctory meal. He had failed to anticipate how much seeing Elizabeth would affect him. On reflection, he had to admit that the visit had passed in an acceptable manner. He had secured a private interview with Miss Bennet and arranged a means of speaking to her again. Her genuine kindness toward him was both unexpected and a balm to his battered soul. Despite the awkwardness of his visit with Elizabeth's family, he had escaped without causing anyone serious embarrassment. He may have unreasonably raised Mrs. Bennet's expectations regarding his interest in Miss Bennet, but that was unavoidable. Given that his goal in coming to Hertfordshire was to secure Bingley's happiness, he should have been satisfied with the progress he had made. Instead, he could only remember Elizabeth's icy stare followed by her refusal to look him in the eye.

He tried to remind himself that he had not come to Hertfordshire to persuade Elizabeth to rethink her opinion of him. But when he saw her, he knew in his heart he had nurtured the unrealistic hope that upon reading his letter she had miraculously changed her mind. It was clear from her reaction that his fantasy was as foolish as his initial proposal. He spent the night in a restless sleep, attempting to come to terms with the fact that he had to put her out of his mind, once and for all.

He awoke the next day determined to exorcise her ghost. He took a long, reckless ride through the countryside, trying to exhaust his mind by fatiguing his body. He returned in the afternoon having come to the realization that all he had accomplished was to make himself and his poor horse sore and uncomfortable.

That night he decided to try a different tack. He began drinking liberally before dinner and continued until well after midnight. He retired to his chambers, barely able to walk. He waved off his valet and fell asleep in his clothes. He awoke in the morning with a splitting headache and the faint memory of torrid dreams he had had about Elizabeth. Hot coffee and a long bath eventually repaired his ailments, and he realized that despite his efforts, he had gained no ground in his battle to purge Elizabeth from his mind.

He was brought back to the present by his valet, who had finished his task and asked, “Sir, are you satisfied, or is there something particular you require?”

“Oh, no. Well, yes. I was just concerned that I... that I… No. That will be all. Thank you for your help.”

Hiding his amusement, his valet bowed curtly and bid his master good evening. Having already reviewed his own behavior and finding it lacking, Darcy turned his thoughts to his impending social obligation. He laughed as he thought that the evening ahead could not have planned to make him more uncomfortable had the devil himself orchestrated it. He would be attending a local assembly—by himself—where dancing would be required and small talk mandatory. He was only truly acquainted with one family, and his interaction with each of its members was fraught with potential danger.

It was clear that Elizabeth would want nothing to do with him, and he could not imagine what he would say to her that could improve the situation. Miss Bennet would surely have told her the reason for his visit, which might have softened her heart toward him. But the idea that she would improve her manners toward him out of gratitude—or out of fear that her sister's happiness depended upon it—held no allure. Such an encounter would be awkward at best and, in the end, a hollow victory. He would prefer her honest animosity. Avoidance was his best option.

Discussion with Miss Bennet would be necessary and most likely more than pleasant. He had to smile when he thought of her generous and forgiving nature. Bingley would be very lucky to win her. But he knew he could not spend the whole of the evening talking to her. Her mother and the local gossips would misconstrue the attention he had already shown her. He would need to ask her to dance so that he could ask her about Bingley, but any further interaction would put them both in an uncomfortable situation.

Who did that leave? The very idea of talking to Mrs. Bennet again only rekindled his headache. He could imagine her on his arm prattling away while she introduced him to her neighbors. She would most likely require him to make his introduction by listing his assets in descending order of value.

He could ask Elizabeth's sisters to dance, but in the past he had found their behavior so inappropriate that he could not imagine how he would endure the experience. He also wondered what Elizabeth would make of such a request. Would she think he was mocking her, since he had berated them in his letter, or would she imagine he was trying to curry her favor, and wonder to what end? No, there would be no point in trying to further an acquaintance in that direction.

He instinctively felt that any interaction with Mr. Bennet would be foolhardy. If Mr. Bennet knew about his previous dealings with Elizabeth, he had every right to be furious with him on several levels. If Mr. Bennet had no information as to his past interactions with Elizabeth, then he probably believed, through his wife's intelligence, that Darcy was hoping to court Miss Bennet. Knowing that his real aim was to leave Hertfordshire for good as soon as possible, any interaction with Mr. Bennet would be an insult in hindsight. Any prior explanation was impossible. The less said, the better.

Looking at his watch, Darcy realized that it was far too early to leave. He knew any occupation would be futile given his level of apprehension. So he poured himself a brandy and continued to imagine the derogation that the evening would bring. Yes, the less said, the better. He would arrive, seek out Miss Bennet, hopefully obtain her agreement as to his discussion with Bingley, and retire early with the excuse that he needed to travel in the morning. It would be the only way to minimize his discomfort.

As he reconfirmed the wisdom of his plan, he was struck with a vision of Elizabeth at Hunsford telling him it was his selfish disdain for the feelings of others that formed the groundwork of her disapprobation. But surely her criticism could not extend to his present predicament. It was natural for him to not want to mix with the inhabitants of the neighborhood. No one in his situation would be comfortable. But then again, he had to admit, this situation was of his own creation. If anyone should be uncomfortable, it was him. Given his inability to converse easily with strangers, wasn't he being considerate by not forcing his company upon others? His memory of Elizabeth again answered his query, this time by asking, “Why would a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, be ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?” The words of his cousin provided the answer: “It is because he will not give himself the trouble.”

Could that be true? Was he awkward at large social gatherings because, as Elizabeth once told him, he would not practice? He knew there was some truth to it. There was no question that he was naturally reserved, but he had overcome his innate shyness at certain times in his life. When he first went to Cambridge, he had been shy and uncomfortable among so many strangers. He had often relied on Wickham, who made acquaintances effortlessly, to ease his way into social circles. But Wickham had soon showed his true colors, and Darcy tried to avoid all contact with him. As a result, he had been alone more often than not. He had already been homesick, and despite his efforts to put all his energies into his studies, he had found that he needed some human contact. He had resolutely forced himself to attend social gatherings and make new acquaintances. Eventually, he had found a circle of friends he valued. Toward the end of his time at Cambridge, he had met Bingley and they became fast friends.

When he returned to Pemberley and his father's health began to fail, he hardly had time to socialize at all. When he did venture out, usually to fulfill an obligation, he came to the painful realization that much of the attention directed his way stemmed from his imminent position as the master of Pemberley and not from any sort of genuine regard. As a result, he developed an instinctual suspicion of new acquaintances. After his father's death, he maintained only his friendship with Bingley. He knew he truly valued Bingley's companionship, but on some level he also relied on him, as he had done with Wickham before, to ease his way in social gatherings. To that extent, Elizabeth was right; he was no longer practiced at the art of making friends because he counted on Bingley to do it for him. Unfortunately, Bingley would not be at the assembly tonight. Truth be told, after he advised Bingley of his meddling, he would probably never agree to share another evening with him again. He suddenly felt as alone as he had at Cambridge. Checking his watch, Darcy summoned his carriage.

At Longbourn, preparations for the assembly were progressing in a much more chaotic fashion. Elizabeth's requests to stay home were denied. Her mother explained that once Jane secured Mr. Darcy, he would be in a position to introduce Elizabeth to other rich men. Since she was not getting any younger and she had already rejected what might be her only suitor in the person of Mr. Collins, she needed to take every opportunity to exhibit herself. Elizabeth endured her mother's lectures with fortitude. She took consolation in the fact that the evening might be worth it if, by its close, the situation between Jane and Mr. Bingley had been resolved. That outcome, however, remained uncertain. Despite Elizabeth's offers to talk, Jane kept her own counsel. Elizabeth believed that Jane was inclined to make the decision by herself since others had previously decided so much of what had happened between herself and Mr. Bingley. This time, she would at least rely on her own judgment.

While Jane sat composed in the sitting room, Elizabeth's other sisters rushed to finish dressing. Mrs. Bennet continued to instruct Elizabeth on her duties for the evening. “Now, Lizzy, do not go about giving impertinent opinions that no one is interested in. It can only hurt Jane's chances with Mr. Darcy. A man does not want to marry into a family that he does not like.” Ignoring the irony of her mother's statement, Elizabeth nodded in acquiescence.

Once her mother went to see to her younger daughters' progress, Elizabeth joined Jane as she heard the carriages being brought to the front door. Reaching for Jane's hand, Elizabeth said, “Well, Jane, I suppose the time is upon us. Are you ready?”

“I suppose I am. But what about you? Are you feeling awkward about seeing Mr. Darcy again?”

“To be honest, I think it might be uncomfortable for us both. But there is no reason for us to interact. He only really wishes to speak to you.”

“Yes, I suppose you are right. But if you do speak with him, I hope you can find it in your heart to be a little charitable. I feel somewhat responsible for him since he is only coming tonight on my account.”

“Jane, for your sake, I will be perfectly civil.”

“I never doubted you would.” After a pause, Jane added, “Lizzy, I know you must be wondering what I have decided to do. I didn't mean to keep you in suspense, but even though I have given the matter a great deal of thought, I was only able to come to a decision just now. It may sound odd, but after spending so much time trying to decide, I have decided not to decide at all.”

“Jane, Lizzy,” interrupted Mrs. Bennet, “come at once. The carriage is ready. It would not do for us to be late. Oh, Jane, you look lovely. Mr. Darcy will not be able to resist you.” Exchanging a resigned smile, Elizabeth and Jane walked with their mother to the carriage.

“Mama,” Jane pleaded, “I have told you before, Mr. Darcy is simply a friend. He has no intentions toward me.”

“Yes, yes, Jane. I cannot fault you for being naïve. But I must tell you, a mother has a way of knowing these things. Kitty, stop your fidgeting, or you will wrinkle your gown! Well, let us be off. I want the girls to be there early enough to secure partners for the first set.” Nodding his acquiescence, Mr. Bennet signaled the carriage to depart.

Darcy entered the assembly as he had planned, after the start of the first set. He knew he could not ask Miss Bennet for that dance, as his meaning for doing so might be misconstrued. He had hoped to enter without notice, but he detected several heads turn his way as he strode into the hall and slipped into a corner. Bearing out his worst fear, he saw that Mrs. Bennet was one of his observers. He also noticed that she was disentangling herself from her conversation. He knew it would be only a matter of time before she was upon him. Retreating, Darcy maneuvered his way behind a group of women in an attempt to obscure her view.

To his astonishment, he found that he was the subject of the group's conversation. Unable to avoid them, he overheard a woman comment that Fanny Bennet had been wrong before about Jane's impending wedding. “It was more likely that she misconstrued Mr. Darcy's visit. You know Fanny's fondness for making a mountain out of a molehill.” Another woman replied in an authoritative tone, “Well, I think we will be able to determine for ourselves what his intention is. Everyone knows that Mr. Darcy hardly ever dances. If he singles Jane out tonight, then there may be some truth to the suggestion.”

Darcy knew he should leave before he was discovered, but he did not know where to turn. Making matters worse, he saw that Mrs. Bennet was searching for him. In distress, he surveyed the room for someone he knew. Upon noticing that Sir William Lucas was talking to a circle of people only a few steps away, he approached him.