A Touch of Night (2 page)

* * * *

Despite the insufficient breakfast, Jane was looking lovelier than ever when they left for the assembly. The assembly taking place in the evening and early hours of the night, Jane had always been able to hold off her transformation until it was over. Something for which Elizabeth felt they should be very grateful.

As it always was every month, the assembly formed a cozy gathering of neighbors and friends bent on amusement -- comfortable and calm except for the ripple of excitement that ran through the crowd. They were all eager to finally see the new resident of Netherfield Park, and the large party he was rumored to have assembled.

When they entered there was a hush, only broken only by Lydia saying, "Thank the Lord there are not five ladies after all!" and then giggling loudly.

Charlotte Lucas, Elizabeth's best friend in the neighborhood, though she was almost eight years older than Elizabeth, leaned towards her and said in a low voice, "The fair-haired gentleman with the agreeable smile is Mr. Bingley, and the two ladies his sisters. One of the other gentlemen is married to his older sister, and the other is Mr. Darcy. My father tells me that he is very rich -- ten thousand a year -- and that he has a grand estate in Derbyshire." Charlotte could normally be counted on to know all such gossip. Her father had been a businessmen till he had the occasion to speak before the king on a royal visit to Meryton. This, causing his elevation to a knighthood, was the cause of misfortune for his family. His elevation to the peerage made it, in his own mind, unsuitable for him to keep shop as he always had. That in turn caused him to move to town and try to live up to his dignity. This meant the family was much worse off than the Bennets and Charlotte, nearing twenty eight and still unmarried, often had to help in the kitchen.

"His sisters think themselves very fine, do they not?" said Elizabeth. The two ladies had fine figures, dressed in the height of fashion and cast bored, superior glances across the room. "Which gentleman is the rich friend? Not the portly one, I hope -- it would be too sad for all the hopeful ladies in this room to be denied a chance with the tall, dark haired one, though his expression is so very stern."

Charlotte giggled, but then sighed. "Mr. Darcy is a fine figure of a man. It would indeed be cruel if he were married."

"Not that he would look at the likes of us," said Elizabeth lightly.

Charlotte stepped back, gave her friend a long, evaluating look and smiled, "You are looking remarkably pretty tonight, so I see no reason for you to suppose that."

"He has the look of not being well pleased with his company," said Elizabeth, examining the man, who truly might be the most handsome man she had ever seen, but whose expression forbid even a thought of ever talking to him, let alone joking with him -- and Elizabeth dearly loved to laugh. "He must think us all very countrified and provincial."

It was not long after his arrival that Mr. Bingley sought out an introduction to Jane and asked her to dance. Elizabeth did not blame him for her sister was by far the prettiest girl in the room, but she followed them with her eyes, concerned for Jane. She had such a kind heart and gentle nature. If she fell in love it would be dangerous -- and Mr. Bingley's affable countenance was tailor made to attract her.

As was often the case at local assemblies, gentlemen were scarce. Elizabeth had danced a few dances but was now sitting on the sidelines beside Mary, wondering whether she should be happy that Jane was enjoying herself or worried because Jane seemed to show the same preference towards Mr. Bingley that he showed towards her. It was unfortunate that Mr. Bingley was not more like his friend, who had at first impressed the people of Meryton with his stately bearing and fine fortune, until they had become disgusted by his evident pride and arrogance.

He walked here, he walked there. He stared out the windows and behaved as though decidedly above his company, dancing only with the ladies in his party and conversing with nobody. At that moment he was standing not far from where Elizabeth sat.

Mr. Bingley said something to Jane and came to join his friend. She perked up at hearing Bingley address his friend.

"Come, Darcy, you have to dance," Bingley said. "I must have you dance."

Darcy sighed. "Bingley, I'll never understand your interest in getting so involved in society. For those like us, the more people we know, the greater the chance we'll get caught."

Caught? Elizabeth thought this an odd thing to say and wondered if the two of them were some sort of criminals, or if Mr. Darcy alluded in this indelicate way to the possibility of their getting caught into marriage by women he considered their inferiors. Considering Mr. Darcy's obviously insolent pride and self-importance, that was all too likely.

Half amused and half horrified, she listened on, prepared to laugh at Mr. Darcy's obvious pride, but was shocked as the conversation turned to her.

"Don't be silly, Darcy," Bingley said. "There is no one hunting for us. Lay aside your worries for one night and enjoy yourself! This assembly is exceptionally delightful. In fact I've never seen a pleasanter society or more handsome girls. Some of them are uncommonly pretty."

"Your partner is the only handsome girl in the room," responded Darcy, glancing over to where Jane stood waiting.

"She is divine! I don't think an angel could be more beautiful. But there are other pleasant girls as well and some of them are uncommonly pretty -- why she has a sister sitting behind you who is also pretty and looks most agreeable. Miss Bennet can introduce you to her."

"Which do you mean?" Darcy asked, and looked at Elizabeth. The minute he looked at her, his eyes widened, as if she were... Something dangerous, or perhaps poisonous.

He had uncommonly beautiful eyes, though she could only discern that as he looked at her directly and widened them. Dark green and expressive, they filled with horror at the sight of her. His cheeks tinged with a red flush. But before she could think very hard about what that might mean, Darcy looked away and said to Bingley. "She's tolerable, I suppose. But not handsome enough to tempt me. I am in no mood to give consequence to females who are slighted by other men -- it is bad enough to have to stand here and endure the rest of the evening without your wishing an uncomfortable situation upon me. Return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, you are wasting your time upon me."

Elizabeth's feelings towards Mr. Darcy, which had already been less than cordial, were now completely hostile. She had done nothing to deserve such contempt, much less such humiliation. He had to know she could hear him. And the look he had cast her was filled with abhorrence. As if he had sensed some evil within her, or some danger. But she could not understand what it was about her countenance that had disgusted him so. She had always been regarded as one of the prettiest girls in the community. He was clearly a strange gentleman, and she was heartily glad not to have been forced into dancing with him. She knew it would not have been a pleasurable experience at all.

She got up and walked across the room to join her friend Charlotte. As she walked she pondered the other comment she had overheard. His concern about mingling in society giving them a greater chance of being caught. Were they, then, not the gentlemen that they seemed? She had heard tell of scoundrels and thieves, men of gentility who had lost their fortunes through gambling and dissipation who came into the country and posed as upstanding citizens only to pull off some nefarious swindle in the community. Were Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy involved in just such a plot? Or were they in hiding because of political intrigue or espionage? Were they indeed traitors to the crown? Elizabeth was still mulling these thoughts over when she reached Charlotte's side.

"What is the matter, Elizabeth?" asked Charlotte. "Your expression is so very grim."

Elizabeth shook herself and laughed. It would not do to express her suppositions without any proof. "I have just been slighted, Charlotte, and it has cut me to the quick."

"By whom?" Charlotte asked, widening her eyes in surprise.

"Mr. Darcy, of all people does not think me tolerable enough to dance with!" she said, and felt the corners of her lips pulling up for above all else Elizabeth dearly enjoyed a joke. "He is so proud and fastidious one must be as elegant and showy as those vain peahens he is used to consorting with. I am not handsome enough to tempt him! He would not be seen dead dancing with a lady slighted by other men. As if I had the least desire to dance with him myself!"

"Careful, Elizabeth," said Charlotte. "Behind your laughter I detect some bitterness of spirit."

"Do not be foolish, Charlotte. I am merely disgusted with the gentleman's consummate arrogance. Assuming every woman would, naturally, wish to dance with him. I can assure you that he is the last man in the world that I would ever wish to dance with."

The two friends continued to laugh as Elizabeth found many other amusing ways to disparage the haughty Mr. Darcy. She made fun of his standing pose, and his walking, and above all his bored expression. "What does he expect to see out the window?" she asked Charlotte.

"Perhaps a dragon," Charlotte said.

"I beg your pardon?" Elizabeth asked, trembling.

Charlotte looked at her, a slight frown creasing her forehead between her eyes. "Oh, have you not heard the rumor in the village. We are, it seems, playing hosts to that most wild and forbidden of
weres
. There is talk of sending for the Royal
Were
-Hunters."

Involuntarily, Elizabeth looked towards Jane as her sister danced with the dashing Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth's protective instinct was so strong that she could never relax in her chosen duty of keeping Jane safe from detection and the deadly consequences it entailed.

Chapter Three

There was much excitement at Longbourn the next breakfast.

While Mrs. Bennet tried to relate the wonders of the assembly in minutest detail to her husband and Mr. Bennet made totally out-of-context comments from behind his edition of the Times of London, a letter arrived for Jane.

"A letter," Mrs. Bennet said. "Where is it from, Jane?"

Jane blushed. She seemed scarcely recovered from her nightly wanders which had started late and ended so close to breakfast time that Elizabeth had not managed to ask Jane whether she'd seen the hunting dog again.

"It is from Netherfield, Mama," Jane answered, softly.

"Oh, Netherfield. Well, read it my dear. Read it quickly. Do not keep us in anxiety."

"It is from Caroline Bingley," Jane said. "It says... My dear Jane, Louisa and I are alone today, as my brother and Mr. Darcy are dining with the officers. And you must know if you don't come and save us from each other's company, we'll hate each other for the rest of our lives, since that is the inevitable result when two women are forced to spend the day in tete a tete."

Mrs. Bennet frowned. "Well, you shall ride on horseback to Netherfield then."

"Why, Mama?" Jane asked.

"Well, for sure, because it looks like rain," her mother said and smiled sweetly.

Jane blinked and Elizabeth could practically see her wondering whether in her tired state she'd missed a step in the conversation. "I don't understand, Mama. Why should I ride on horseback because it looks like rain? Is the carriage not available."

"Certainly not! I'm sure the horses are needed in the field. Are they not, Mr. Bennet?"

"They are needed in the field far more often than I'm allowed to have them there," Mr. Bennet said. "But if Jane needs--"

"She does not need it. She shall go on horseback, for it looks like rain," Mrs. Bennet said, decidedly.

"My dear," Mr. Bennet said, for once setting down his newspaper, seemingly fascinated with his wife's reasoning. "I know that you must think you've given me every possible detail in this so charming plan of yours, but I must assure you that I see no relation between impending rain--" He cast a glance out the window, where the sky had turned grey and boiling with clouds. "And your daughter having to endure that rain on horseback. If there is such a lack of water for baths, perhaps I should--"

"Baths! Do not be nonsensical. Of course, she must go on horseback, for it looks like rain, and if it rains she'll have to stay overnight and wait till Mr. Bingley returns home."

The look which Mr. Bennet cast his spouse mingled admiration and not a little fear. "It is then decided that this poor man will be hunted down mercilessly and forced to marry our daughter?"

"Forced to marry her! Don't be ridiculous. Anyone who saw them dancing yesterday night couldn't but know they were in a fair way to being in love."

Elizabeth cast a worried glance at Jane, who was blushing brightly, but her father didn't seem to notice. "Well, if that is so, my dear Jane, you must make sure your Mister Bingley asks my permission first. It wouldn't do for you to cast yourself beneath reproach by eloping."

"I would never elope Papa, as you very well know. And he's not my Mr. Bingley."

"I think he is," her father said, looking up with a slight smile. "Or very soon will be. You see, your mother has decreed it so."

* * * *

Jane's look at Elizabeth wasn't as anguished as it might have been. The moon had started to wane and therefore her urge to change was lessened and more easily controllable. It was just the hopeless look the sisters were used to trading when their mother thought of matching Jane to someone. All Mrs. Bennet's machinations were for naught, due to Jane's condition, and both girls did their utmost to avoid any uncomfortable situations she contrived to place Jane in.

While helping her sister get ready to go to Netherfield, Elizabeth reminded her of the dangers of any gentleman forming an attachment for her.

"You have no reason to imagine I would have forgotten," said Jane, who looked very beautiful, with her hair arranged in an upward sweep and flowers woven through her curls. "Surely you don't think me so inconsiderate that I would risk cursing an innocent family with my blood."

"An innocent family indeed," Elizabeth said. "Any family should be lucky to have you amid them, no matter what your blood." They had discussed this many a time. They knew, from books and police accounts written in the papers that the curse didn't hit every generation. In fact, just a few weeks ago, a Lord had been arrested in London whose family had never -- to the knowledge of anyone living -- had a were amongst its members. But the man -- Elizabeth couldn't help thinking of him as a poor man -- had been found in lion form in the middle of Town one night, and had been arrested, tried and beheaded within the week. She shivered at the thought. She would do whatever she had to do to prevent such a fate befalling her sweet Jane. "And there is no guarantee it would show in the children. I'm just afraid of a husband who would not understand your need."

Jane made an impish face, worthy of Elizabeth. "Oh, as to that, there is no problem, then. I shall marry Bingley and you shall come and live with us. That way you can be at hand to hide my changes."

"And to teach your ten children to embroider cushions and play their instruments very ill indeed," Elizabeth said, and grinned. "Go, and I hope you enjoy your evening with the superior sisters."

"Elizabeth, they're not so very bad."

Elizabeth stuck her tongue out at Jane, so it reflected in the mirror Jane was looking into. "No, they are far worse. But you'll always think the best of people. So go, because it looks like rain, and though this might mean you get to see your Mr. Bingley, I don't want you soaked to the skin on the way there."

However, as fate would have it, it rained while Jane was on the way to Netherfield, and in the way of such things, Jane, who, in her other form, was fairly impervious to rain, immediately fell ill and had to stay at Netherfield.

Elizabeth could imagine her sister's torment and refused to sit idly at Longbourn while her sister was bereft of a friendly shoulder to cry on. Instead, she insisted on walking to Netherfield to visit the very next morning.

She arrived early in the morning and much to her astonishment saw Mr. Darcy in the gardens. He looked tired and disoriented and his cravat was askew, something she found surprising for he had given every appearance of being a fastidious man. This led Elizabeth to again consider the conversation she had overheard between Mr. Darcy and his friend at the assembly. It seemed almost as if he was just now returning from a night of debauchery.

She hoped to avoid his notice, but the very next moment he looked up. His eyes widened upon seeing her and, she was sure, he stared at her petticoats, which were three inches deep in mud. And though his green eyes remained attractive, even while widened to their extreme extent, she was sure they were filled with disapproval and something more. Possibly contempt. How could he judge her after whatever indiscretions he had come from? Elizabeth tossed her head and turned away from him. She walked quickly up the carriageway towards the front steps as Mr. Darcy stood, silent and brooding, beneath the overspreading bough of a great oak.

The butler showed Elizabeth into the breakfast room, where Mr. Bingley and his sisters were still partaking of their first meal of the day. After the initial greetings had been exchanged, Elizabeth asked to be taken to her sister, and a maid was summoned to perform this service. Just as she exited through the doorway, Darcy entered from an adjoining salon.

"Mr. Darcy!' cried Caroline. "You will never guess who just traipsed in and disturbed our meal!"

"I imagine it was Miss Elizabeth Bennet," said he, imperturbably."

How uncouth she is!" continued Caroline, as she wondered at Darcy's accurate guess. "Running all over the countryside and barging in uninvited just because her sister has a trifling cold."

"It shows sisterly compassion which I find very pleasing!" countered Bingley.

"Yes," said Darcy, "but does so slight an illness necessitate such lively concern?"

"Not at all," cried Caroline. "And what a figure she presented! Her petticoats all covered in mud and her hair positively windblown! You would not want your sister to make such a display, would you Mr. Darcy?"

He shook his head, and then excused himself and went up to his room. He could not erase from his mind the look he had seen upon Miss Bennet's face when she had spied him in the garden. It was one of disgust. His appearance had indeed been disheveled, but nothing to what she would have seen if she had happened upon him not fifteen minutes earlier. Then he had been completely naked. He would have to secrete his cache of clothing deeper in the bushes. This morning had been much too close a call.