9. Barbarians at the Gate

Our Lady of Longbourn

Chapter Nine – Barbarians at the Gate

In the year of our Lord, 1811

The gentry, merchants, and people of Meryton danced and talked animatedly as the musicians kept up a near constant drone. They were not the best musicians, but they were good enough. Elizabeth finished the first set with a local man and then sought out Charlotte, who had stationed herself far away from the matrons' tables.

"A very full hall tonight, Charlotte. How are you?" Their relationship had suffered a blow after the disgruntlement of the populace over her father's knighthood. Despite Elizabeth's intervention, Charlotte was painfully aware of the deception her mother had encouraged and her father had agreed to. Though Charlotte had taken no part in the act, she still felt that her entire family was tainted by it. Though Elizabeth had brushed it all off, it still seemed an ever-present stain, much like Lady Macbeth's bloody spot. Time was healing the rift, however, and the two friends had slowly been rebuilding that close bond, enough now that Charlotte felt safe teasing her younger friend.

"I am well, Lady Elizabeth," her impish grin took any sting out of the tease.

Elizabeth groaned, "Please don't start that. It has taken me far too long begging and pleading to get everybody to stop calling me that. Lydia caught on to it, informed my mother, and there was no peace in the house for weeks." Elizabeth's voice took on the familiar pitch of her mother, "Don't you think for a second that anybody in this family will call you 'Lady Elizabeth'! What a ridiculous notion! My dear Jane is a real Lady now, a COUNTESS! You are nothing in comparison."

"Did she really say that?" Charlotte grimaced. She could never understand Mrs. Bennet's attitude toward her second daughter, "I'm so sorry Eliza. You know that the people do it because they love and respect you, don't you?"

Elizabeth colored, "I know… which only makes it more difficult to make them stop. You know how people are: once they get a notion fixed in their heads, it doesn't let go."

"It would be much worse if they knew who the true owner of Netherfield was," Charlotte said slyly.

Her friend's eyes widened in alarm, and then she tried to calmly say, "The real owner of Netherfield, Charlotte? Who might that be?"

Charlotte covered a laugh with her hand, "I'm not blind, Eliza. Our three estates make a triangle. We walk the same paths. I've seen you walking, riding, or being carried in your little trap to Netherfield Park many times. I've also heard the servants of Netherfield speak with you when they encountered you in Meryton… the answer was obvious." Seeing Elizabeth's growing alarm, she laid a hand on her arm, "Relax, Eliza. I solved the puzzle because I am around you often. Others might see all of the pieces, but won't understand how they fit together. Your secret is safe for now."

The musicians ended a set just as a new group entered through the main doors. Charlotte looked over, "And speaking of Netherfield…"

"Do you know who each is?"

"I'm surprised that you don't."

"I know details, but this is the first time I've seen… faces," Elizabeth's pause was caused by her sudden recognition of the last member of the party to step into the hall. It's him! How is this possible?

"The man with the blond, curly hair and the wide smile is Mr. Bingley. The shorter couple are his sister and brother-in-law, the Hursts. The taller young woman with the auburn hair is Miss Bingley. She will be acting as Mistress for the house. And the tall gentleman with the furrowed brow is Mr. Bingley's friend, Mr. Darcy."

Charlotte received no immediate reply and glanced over to see that her friend seemed tense and fixated. She followed her gaze, not surprised that it fell on the taller gentleman. "He is very handsome, Elizabeth, but probably out of our sphere."

"Huh?" Elizabeth startled out of her trance. She faced her friend, "What did you say?"

"I was commenting on the delightful shade of orange one of our new arrivals is sporting. Don't you think it goes well with red hair?"

This released Elizabeth from her trance and made her laugh. About the same time the musicians began to play again and the crowd began to circulate or dance.

Fitzwilliam Darcy was surveying the crowd with displeasure. His displeasure only increased when Caroline moved uncomfortably close and commented, "Shall we survive the evening, Mr. Darcy. It is all rather primitive."

Laughter drew Darcy's attention and he turned his eyes to see two young ladies off to the side, not staring like so many others. The shorter lady had dark brown, curly hair. She was facing away, so he couldn't see her face, but her figure was light and pleasing. Then she turned and Darcy's whole body tensed. It's her! Of course! I saw the shepherd, so why am I so surprised?

A man stepped up and claimed the lady for a dance. She graciously accepted and allowed herself to be led onto the floor. Darcy was torn about what to do, but he had to get closer to her. "Miss Bingley, may I have this dance?"

Caroline smiled triumphantly and laid her hand on his offered arm. She walked proudly and regally onto the floor and deigned only the smallest nod to the partners in front of her. The music signaled a quadrille and both partners easily began the appropriate steps. Caroline knew that she and Mr. Darcy made a very striking picture, and she gloried in the attention, even if it was only from country bumpkins. This will warn off any aspiring mushrooms. They need to know that Mr. Darcy is mine!

As if on signal, the line led the couple near enough to the matron tables to see heads leaning together and to hear one particularly abrasive voice loudly declaring, "… and Mr. Bingley's fortune is nothing to his! Ten-thousand a year!" The dance movements led to couples touching hands and Caroline felt her partner's tension, "Careful, Mr. Darcy. It seems that the barbarians are at the gate."

When the dance was over Caroline hoped that Mr. Darcy would ask for the second, thereby completing the set and firmly establishing Caroline's claim, but instead he led her off the floor, bowed silently, and walked off into the shadows. Well, it doesn't matter as long as he doesn't dance with anyone else except maybe Louisa.

Louisa and her husband had been a bit of a surprise. They remained in London most of the time, only occasionally leaving for one of his small estates in the far-flung regions of the country. Then, when Charles had announced this lease, Louisa had asked if she and Hubert could come as well. Hubert! Who marries a man with a name like Hubert?

Caroline knew that Louisa's marriage made her gentry, but only barely. Caroline intended to do much better and elevate herself firmly in the first circles. She had fixated on Mr. Darcy from the first moment that Charles had introduced his older college mate. He was not nobility, but his family was closely tied to an Earl and many prominent figures. He was wealthy too, much more wealthy than any of her other possibilities. And Pemberley! What a proud and prestigious feather that would be in her cap. Mistress of Pemberley… I think that it sounds quite perfect.

While Caroline was fantasizing about her future, Mr. Darcy was moving around the back of the room, nodding to some, ignoring others as his eyes sought out the young woman. He saw her dancing and moved in that direction, but the reel came to a conclusion and her partner escorted her to the opposite side of the room. He began to move around again when that same shrill voice from before demanded, "Lizzy! Come and meet our new guests!"

Darcy watched as the young lady gave a resigned smile to her friend, the older lady from before, and joined two other young ladies and a matron. Only then did he realize that the guests in question were his party… and he was on the other side of the hall. Before he could make his way back around, Bingley had claimed the girl's next dance. Frustrated, Darcy slowed his progression and ended up standing nearby the matron as she gossiped to another.

Peter Long, recently returned from Cambridge, had grown up with Lizzie. When he was younger he was challenged by her a slightly afraid of her. Before departing for Cambridge the first time, he was developing a tendre for her, but something about her made her seem even further out of reach. Nevertheless, he always hated it when outsiders came in and stole the prettiest girls. So when he saw the tall newcomer's obvious fixation, he decided to have some fun. He walked over to his friend and fellow prankster, John Lucas, "Hey John, want to have some fun?"

Darcy gritted his teeth as he failed to move close to his quarry again. To his side he heard the girl's obnoxious mother, "…who knows, he may even fall in love with Lizzy… though why he should choose her I can only wonder… my Lydia is much prettier and she don't put on so many airs. Either way, if one of them marries him, I shall be quite content. And that will throw my other girls into the paths of other rich men!"

Darcy stiffened and his ardor for meeting the young woman began to cool. She may be pretty, but that mother! I am glad that I received ample warning before I made a fool of myself. The young lady laughed at something Bingley said and the pleasant tinkle of that laugh made Darcy clench his fists even as his eyes were drawn to her again.

"Have you met 'the Lady' yet, Mr. Darcy?" Caroline's warm breath blew across Darcy's ear, causing him to cringe slightly.

He turned to regard her, "Pardon?"

"I have heard several references now to 'The Lady,' and they say this almost reverently. According to Charles, the only minor nobility in Meryton is that trumped-up shopkeeper Sir Wilbur Lucas…"

"William."

"Pardon?"

"His name is Sir William Lucas, not Wilbur. And no, I haven't met any other nobility. His wife is obviously Lady Lucas, perhaps it is her that they mean?"

"No, that was my first thought… but I've been watching, and most people act like she is one of them. When they mention 'The Lady,' it feels like I should genuflect." Caroline laughed. Darcy couldn't help but compare her grating laughter to the attractive laughter of the young lady, "Imagine anybody important choosing to live here!"

"Here, as you say it, is half a day's ride from London and this area has been settled for hundreds of years. Why wouldn't someone choose to live here?" Darcy realized that he was arguing about his own prejudice, but he couldn't make himself agree with anything Caroline said.

Caroline believed that the way to a man's heart was through agreement with anything he said, so she refrained from arguing. "Anyway, this person is here somewhere among these mushrooms."

Darcy scanned the crowd and for the first time noticed that many of the ladies were as fashionably dressed as the ladies of London. "This community is obviously wealthier than I had originally estimated. Notice that the fashion is much similar to what you see this year in London drawing rooms."

Caroline narrowed her eyes, "I did notice. Some local seamstress must be gifted at copying ideas, because I believe that several of these dresses look like poor copies of those designed by Katerina."

Darcy noticed the almost reverent way that Caroline said that name. He knew it from his sister and from his Matlock cousins. Katerina was the mysterious designer who was setting the current fashions. Even that fop Beau Brummel had complimented her work. He surveyed the ladies in this hall and couldn't see where Caroline got the idea that the dresses were poor copies. His eyes drifted to Charles and his partner who were nearing the end of the second dance of the set.

"Perhaps we could get a better view from the dance floor," Caroline hinted. She needed to dance twice with him to seal her pre-eminence in the locals' minds, lest any of them set their sights on her quarry.

"A good idea, Miss Bingley," Darcy said and walked over to Louisa to solicit a dance. Caroline gritted her teeth and surveyed the room again. This 'Lady' must be older. Perhaps she is sitting with the matrons?

As Darcy danced with Louisa, he noticed that Charles was now dancing with another sister of his young lady. This one was blond and very pretty, above the ordinary, and definitely Charles' type. Here we go again, Darcy thought. Charles always fixated on the same type, always fell madly in love, and usually lasted about thirty days before losing interest.

The night progressed and Darcy came no nearer to securing the girl's hand for a dance. He found his temper and jealousy rising as man after man reached her first. More than once their eyes met, but he was always too far away to approach her in time. When she wasn't dancing, men and a few women were conferring with her. She seemed not only popular, but well-respected… which didn't make much sense considering her embarrassment of a mother.

Finally he worked his way around to where she had taken a seat to sit out a dance. He was within yards of her when he realized that they had not yet been introduced. Standing there, unable to move forward and unwilling to move away, he watched as several young men walked over to speak with her. She laughed that wonderful laugh and Darcy felt a surge of anger.

"Come Darcy, I must have you dance!" Mr. Bingley's voice surprised him. He hadn't even seen his friend approach. "I can't have you standing around in this stupid manner. You must dance."

"I certainly shall not. It would be painful in such a gathering as this. I have danced with your sisters and there is nobody else in the room I wish to stand up with. You have been dancing with the only pretty woman in the room." This wasn't true of course, but Darcy never reacted well to being cornered.

"Yes, Miss Catherine is a beauty, isn't she? An angel! But, there are many beautiful ladies here tonight. Why, look, just over there is her sister and she is very attractive."

Darcy looked over to the object of his obsession and saw her once again engaged in conversation with several men. Gritting his teeth, he said, "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. Go find your angel, Bingley, and leave me in peace."

Bingley shook his head at his friend's intransigence and walked away. Darcy stepped back into the shadows, but not before he realized that several people had heard him and all of them were glaring in his direction.