10. Disgruntlement

Our Lady of Longbourn

Chapter Ten – Disgruntlement

Thanks to all of my readers and reviewers up until now. I'm very pleased with the reception of this story. Note to csad21: good guesses, only one of which is correct and another is sort-of correct, but not in the way you might think. As to the rest, you will just have to wait and see. I hope everyone will like where the story goes from here.

In the year of our Lord, 1811

Elizabeth felt his words like a punch in her stomach. "She is tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me. I have no intention of giving consequence to a woman who has already garnered plenty of male attention."

From the moment that this Mr. Darcy had walked into the assembly hall, Elizabeth had been intensely aware of him. He was the same man from last year: at the auction, the park, and the theater. Her entire body had tingled with the feeling of some manifest force driving her towards something new.

During the entire assembly up until this moment, she had known exactly where he was in the room at any given moment. She had hoped for an introduction and perhaps a dance, but so many local men were seeking her out for dances, to flirt, or to talk business that she was becoming frustrated. She had begged off the previous dance with the excuse that she needed to rest her feet, and still the men kept approaching her… all except for the one she wanted to meet.

Elizabeth had never been self-aware when it came to her own appearance. She liked pretty dresses as much as the next woman, and she felt pretty in them, but it wasn't something that she gave much thought to. With Jane as a sister, and with both Kitty and Lydia growing in beauty every day, she had long ago resigned herself to being just pretty. So when Kitty had gifted her with her newest design, made specifically for Elizabeth, she had been pleased and honored, but she hadn't spent much time in front of a mirror.

So Elizabeth didn't see what others did… especially the men. Elizabeth had been slower to grow into her true beauty than Jane, but now she had arrived. In this dress she was radiant and quite alluring. Her figure had matured into that of a desirable woman. Her dark, curly hair was tied up stylishly to display a slender neck, her shoulders, wider than the usual lady who laid about all day, leant shape and frame to her upper body, and her slender waist tapered out to shapely hips. In all hers was a shape that drew men's eyes.

But it was her personality that gave that special allure to her and set her apart. There had always been intelligence, energy, and intensity about her. Coupled with her ready laugh, her impertinence, and her caring heart, she was appealing in ways that made her glow like a flame in a dark room.

Of course, she didn't see any of this. She had spent years under the same roof as a woman who seemed to despise her and who regularly told her that she wasn't pretty and would never marry well. Like waves on rocks, her mother had worn down her self-esteem. Elizabeth had found her own esteem in other ways, and she had done very well, but her self-image had never been what it should be.

So when the first man who had ever truly captured Elizabeth's attention described her as "tolerable," it hurt intensely. Worse still, he seemed to imply some negative interpretation of the attention she was receiving from other men in the room. What must he think of me? Why should I care? Proud, insufferable man! He hasn't said a word to the people in this room… as if none of us are good enough for him!

Elizabeth had years of practice shaking off insults and pretending that they didn't hurt. She rose now, pasted on a smile, walked past the arrogant man, and found Charlotte. Putting on an amused face, she related the details of the tall man's insults. Charlotte laughed with her, but she knew her friend. She could see in Eliza's eyes that those words had hurt.

oOoOOoOo

Darcy saw the beautiful figure pass by him. He saw her smirk, but he also saw her eyes. Good God man, what have you done? You've just ruined any chance to get to know her.

He saw Caroline making her way his direction and quickly moved on. He was surprised when he was jostled several times in passage. The men who bumped him did not apologize. In fact, several glared at him. After numerous frustrating encounters, he tucked himself into a shadowed corner and tried to find the girl with his eyes.

"You seem to have a talent for stepping in it up to your knees, Mr. Darcy," A deep voice said. Darcy turned to see Mr. Matthews, the steward of Netherfield Park.

"I do not take your meaning, Sir," Darcy ground out, irritated at being addressed in such a manner and troubled by the truth of the man's statement.

"Son, I've watched you stalk this room for almost two hours trying to get close to Miss Bennet. Then, when your friend offers you that chance, you insult her."

"How do you know this? You are sitting halfway across the room."

"Mr. Darcy, by now everybody knows about it. You have no idea what you've done or who you've insulted. Allow me to give you some advice: you are here to help your friend. You've just done almost the worst thing that you could do to make your entire party unwelcome. You need to fix this tonight, or you may all be driven out of town by weeks end."

Darcy suspected hyperbole, but there was no denying the hostile looks or the jostling. He sighed, feeling both ashamed and defeated, "How can I do that? I am positive that she heard me and I doubt that she will never allow me anywhere close to make an apology."

The rangy steward set down his punch and rose from his seat, "Come with me."

Elizabeth was just finishing a dance and her partner was returning her to the side when his face suddenly became hard. She followed his gaze and stiffened as Mr. Matthews led Mr. Darcy up to the pair. Her dance partner glared, but she signaled him that she was not in need of assistance and turned to the men.

"Miss Bennet, you are looking particularly lovely this evening," Mr. Matthews saw Elizabeth's unwelcoming expression but pressed on, "This young man has expressed a desire to make you acquaintance and to share a dance." He looked sternly at his one-time apprentice turned master, "I hope that you will be pleased to meet Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy, please meet Elizabeth Bennet."

Darcy bowed and tried to communicate his repentance with his eyes. "Miss Bennet, I am honored to make your acquaintance. And if you have the next set available, I would be honored to dance with you."

The young woman seemed to look straight into his soul, sifting him, before she finally nodded and curtsied, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Darcy. I am not engaged." Mr. Matthews nodded in satisfaction and returned to his seat.

The music began and the partners took their places. Darcy quickly realized that most of the crowded hall seemed to be watching them, and it made him even more shy. They danced silently for seven minutes. Both were excellent dancers and as a pair they painted a pretty picture, but neither was smiling or seemed to be enjoying the dance.

Finally, Elizabeth broke the tense silence, "Come, Mr. Darcy, we must have some conversation. I talk about the size of the room…"

"I am deeply and terribly sorry!" Darcy blurted out, turning red from embarrassment.

Elizabeth stumbled in her step at the abrupt interruption and the mortification on the handsome man's face. Recovering, she had to cover her mouth to hide a laugh. Then the remembrance of his words stung her again and her smile melted, "Then why did you say such words in the first place, Mr. Darcy. Those were hardly the words of a gentleman?"

His mortification deepening at the truth of her words, he struggled to find the right answer. What came out was something that he hadn't intended. "I was jealous."

"Pardon?"

The music came to an end and the couples stepped to the side, but Darcy stayed by her so that she wouldn't escaped the second dance of the set. After a quick scan to ensure that nobody else was listening, he finally said, "I've been trying to meet you all night… actually, for far longer than you might suspect... and other men kept getting to you first."

It was Elizabeth's turn to blush. The musician's signaled the start of the second dance of the set and Darcy led her back into position. They danced in silence for another minute before Elizabeth finally state, "That won't do for an explanation. Your friend offered to make an introduction, so if what you say is true, then you had your opportunity… but since I am only tolerable…"

Darcy groaned and blurted, "You're beautiful! I'm just… I'm… I cannot talk to others as men like Bingley can. I cannot seem to find a common interest. I cannot catch the flow of their conversation… my words get jumbled… I…"

Elizabeth was startled by this stumbling monologue, but what she began to understand that this handsome, wealthy, man of the world might be shy. It seemed inconceivable, but there it was. Finally, she said, "Then I forgive you, Mr. Darcy… but I will extract a penance."

Darcy looked into her dark, sparkling eyes and at the moment he would have given all he possessed to her. "A penance?"

"Yes," She smiled as the dance took them apart and brought them back together, "I will introduce you to ten locals. You have to politely make their acquaintance and try to join their conversations."

The dance ended and for the next forty minutes Elizabeth dragged Mr. Darcy around and introduced him to people. Some were gentlemen, some were tradesmen, others were tenants, and a few were professionals. He tried his best to be polite and friendly, and he saw as their eyes turned from hostile to cautiously friendly. Then he realized the truth: She isn't making me do this as penance. She is smoothing the troubled waters. Without her intervention, and that of the Netherfield steward, life in this community would have become very uncomfortable.

The other thing that he noticed was the great respect that everyone seemed to accord to this young woman who could not be more than twenty or twenty one. The only exceptions to this were her mother and her youngest sister, who were deliberately insulting at times. How could such a woman come from such a mother?

By the time his "penance" was complete, there was only the final set remaining. Darcy seriously considered asking for the dance, but one of the local men already had that honor. Darcy felt a little let down, only to realize that he had actually considered dancing more than one full set with a woman. Have you lost your mind? Do you intend to raise expectations that can never be? Nevertheless, he felt disappointed.

When the assembly was over and the Bingley carriage was headed back toward Netherfield, Caroline Bingley was delivering a litany of criticisms and complaints about the town, the people, and most specifically the Bennets. "And the locals described the girls as local beauties! For my part I couldn't see much in the way of beauty. Oh, the second girl was pretty, but 'Kitty' is such a childish name. And the youngest! What a flirt!"

Mr. Hurst grunted and shifted in his seat, earning a resigned look from his wife and a glare from Caroline. Darcy surmised that the man had had too much to drink again.

Caroline continued her diatribe, "But it was the eldest who everyone pointed out as the one to meet. I didn't notice anything special about her. She was well dressed, to be sure… I still wonder where these locals managed to find such fashionable dresses... You danced with her Mr. Darcy, you must have noticed the lack of symmetry in her features; and she's shorter than fashion; and do you know that someone told me that she runs the family estate, not her father? Have you ever heard of such a thing?"

This did startle Darcy, but he kept his face placid as he contemplated this. The Bennets own Longbourn, the estate I looked at on the day I arrived. It was very well run. Does she really run it herself? If so, it might explain the unusual level of deference and respect shown to her.

Caroline continued her critique, but Darcy ignored her.

OooOOoOo

At the noon meal on the following day, Elizabeth did her best to ignore her mother's loud and judgmental recap of the night's event. Mrs. Bennet was telling all about Kitty's conquest of Mr. Bingley and all of the men who danced with Lydia. Not for the first time, Elizabeth was thankful that her mother routinely dismissed her, since she didn't wish her interactions with Mr. Darcy to become the fodder of the dining table. She honestly didn't know what to make of the evening herself.

When Fanny drifted into a description of every lady's dress, Mr. Bennet had enough, "No Lace! Your descriptions were quite complete, my dear, and very comprehensive. Now, I have things to attend to." He rose and made a quick retreat to his book room. Elizabeth was momentarily concerned that the woman's attention might swing her direction, but thankfully Lydia began a humorous but unkind description of Mr. Harper tripping and spilling punch on Millicent James. While the two gloried over the poor girl's humiliation, Elizabeth made her escape.

Once outside, her eyes drifted toward the direction of Netherfield... and her mind reviewed every look, every movement, and every word spoken by a certain tall, dark, and very handsome gentleman.

oOoOOoOo

Your Most Gracious Majesty,

This is only a preliminary report, but as I know that you desire to be kept informed, I will share what I have gleaned thus far.

Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy is a gentleman of some standing in England. He is twenty-eight and is undisputed owner and master of one large estate, Pemberley, and several smaller estates. The belief of many is that his annual income is ten-thousand pounds, but I estimate at least double that. He inherited from his father, who passed away suddenly five years ago. Since then he has had the guardianship of his ten-years-younger sister and full management of his properties.

Whereas other wealthy young men have spent these same years on gambling and other debauchery, Mr. Darcy has devoted himself to learning his responsibilities and improving his properties. I believe that he is what you seek for this inheritance: an honorable and industrious man of character.

His general attitude has undergone an unpleasant alteration due to some recent event, but his habits of industry and self-discipline are unaltered. He has always been proud, but now he is more withdrawn, less trusting, and more judgmental. This alteration seems to trace back to something that occurred in the summer of the previous year, but I have not yet discovered the catalyst. He is still respectable, just less pleasant to be in company with.

On the second subject, Your Majesty, I have made an interesting discovery. While talking with the men at a local gathering I mentioned Sir William Lucas. Several of the men acted cold and two were angry. It seems that they feel that he took credit for actions which were not his own, namely the gathering of the medicines. The person who they feel should receive the credit is a woman. I do not have a name yet, but they refer to her as "Our Lady."

There is a young lady who seems to engender an inordinate amount of respect in the community, far more than can be justified by her family situation, social standing or physical beauty, but I cannot yet confirm that she is the person of whom they speak.

I tried to glean more, but the men seemed to signal their compatriots to silence. I will continue to investigate and will employ my team to find the answers that you seek.

As always, your loyal servant,

Reginald