In the Wilds of Derbyshire Read online

Page 11


  “We shall arrive in less than a half hour,” said Mr. Drummond as the carriage set off. “If you can maintain your composure that long, you shall have the promised amusement.”

  Olivia blushed, but she looked at her father with affection and gratitude. Mr. Drummond had seen his eldest daughter’s behavior these last days and had obviously recognized it as well as Elizabeth had.

  “And let me take this opportunity, my dear,” continued Mr. Drummond, “to solicit your hand for the first dance of the evening.”

  “Of course, Papa,” replied Olivia, with a hint of a giggle.

  “After, I shall take you to my friends and introduce you,” said Edward. “You will also make the acquaintance of their sisters, which should be of as much interest for you as dancing.”

  “Thank you, Edward. Will you do the same for Elizabeth?”

  “Of course.”

  The relationship seemed to have become a little closer since the conversation Elizabeth had with Edward on the day of the picnic. She could not claim to be the instigator of such better relations, but Elizabeth wondered if Edward had begun to see his sister as the woman she was becoming. Either way, she could not help but rejoice—would that Elizabeth had an elder brother and protector!

  “Elizabeth, will you dance the first with me?”

  With a smile at her cousin, Elizabeth indicated that she was happy to do so. Indeed, knowing no other man who would be in attendance—other than Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam—Elizabeth thought dance partners might be a little scarcer than she usually expected.

  The carriage moved along rather slowly, as the horses strained to pull it over the soaked road, which, though Elizabeth had thought was well-maintained, appeared to allow the carriage passage only with the greatest reluctance. There were ruts which jostled the occupants about, and more than once Elizabeth thought she heard a sucking sound, as the wheels were pulled free from the mud which held it in its grip.

  The first sign of trouble was when the carriage lurched violently to one side, throwing Elizabeth and Olivia against her brother. It seemed to rock in place for a moment, and then came to a sudden stop, though by this time it had been going so slowly that the girls did not fall to the floor. Outside, Elizabeth could hear the driver urging the horses forward, but though the horses whinnied and strained, the carriage shuddered and did not move.

  “Wait here,” instructed Mr. Drummond, before he opened the door and pushed his upper body out, and for a moment, Elizabeth could hear a murmur of conversation with the driver.

  “The carriage has become stuck in the mud,” said Mr. Drummond when he re-entered.

  “Can the horses not pull us out?” asked his wife.

  “The carriage is too heavy. We will have to step out to lighten the load.”

  Though Elizabeth could easily see that her aunt was not impressed with her husband’s words, she seemed to sense that there was little reason to argue. Elizabeth’s uncle stepped down from the conveyance, and after him Edward alighted, and they turned to help the ladies. After Mrs. Drummond was helped to the ground, Elizabeth stepped down herself, noting that it was fortunate that the carriage had become stuck on one side of the road, as there was a grassy section not far away. Her uncle held her up in his arms and deposited her in the relatively cleanliness of the grass and smiled at her.

  “If you ladies will wait here a moment, we shall see if the horses can pull the carriage from the mud. As an intrepid young lady, I am certain you will not be put out by a little wet grass.”

  “No, indeed, Uncle,” replied Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth stood with her cousin and watched as the driver urged the horses on with cracks of his whip. The two animals strained against the cross piece to which they were attached, but though the vehicle shuddered and their muscles strained under their sleek coats, the coach did not budge.

  “I suppose there is no help for it,” said Mr. Drummond with regret. “Edward and I will need to push to try to dislodge it.”

  “You will become muddy yourselves,” said his wife.

  “I know, but there is nothing else to be done. The horses by themselves are not enough to free the carriage. Edward and I can return to Kingsdown and join you after we change.”

  Though it appeared like Mrs. Drummond wished to say something further, she held her peace. For Elizabeth, she realized that the time consumed in such an endeavor would mean they would arrive very late, but there seemed to be little that could be done, as her uncle had indicated.

  “At least it is not raining at present,” said Olivia in a quiet voice to Elizabeth. Though Elizabeth agreed with her, she was not confident it would not begin yet again.

  The sound of another carriage approaching caught the company’s attention, and they looked as one as a large coach and four appeared out of the gloom. Though the light was poor and the approaching carriage was mired in the darkness, Elizabeth could see the faint gleam of enameled lacquer, the intricate filigree which adorned the doors and her attention was caught when one of the horses stamped and snorted. It rolled to a stop behind the Drummond carriage, and the side door opened, allowing two men to step down. They approached the waiting party, and a moment later, their identities were revealed as Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam.

  “Drummond!” exclaimed the former. “It seems as if you are having a spot of trouble.”

  “More than a spot, sir,” was Mr. Drummond’s reply.

  “This section of road has been a problem for some time,” said Mr. Darcy. He sounded exasperated. “I may have to do something about it myself.”

  “I apologize for delaying you and your cousin with our difficulties.”

  Mr. Darcy only waved him off. “There is nothing you could have done about it, sir. Let us push your vehicle out so we can get you on your way to the assembly.”

  “I would not wish for your clothing to be soiled dealing with our problem, sir,” said Mr. Drummond.

  “If someone is to become soiled, it makes greater sense for it to be me. Pemberley is much closer, and my conveyance, pulled by four horses, is better equipped to go through this area than yours. Come, sir, I insist.”

  There was little Mr. Drummond could do but thank Mr. Darcy for his civility. The two men took their positions behind the carriage, and with the assistance of the two footmen from Pemberley, they began straining against the rear of the old equipage. The horses squealed and the men shouted as they heaved against the heavy bulk, and for a time it stubbornly refused to move. But then with a great sucking sound, the carriage broke free of the mud and lumbered on for a few feet until it reached a section of the road which appeared to be a little firmer. It was a miracle that none of the men had fallen when it had suddenly moved.

  “I believe a change of pants is necessary, at the very least,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, as he looked down ruefully at his trousers. Indeed, though the man’s jacket seemed to have escaped unscathed, he was speckled with mud below his waist. Mr. Darcy was in the same condition.

  “Not until we are certain the Drummonds will have no further trouble,” replied Mr. Darcy.

  “Thank you, good sirs,” said Mr. Drummond. “We would have been in a fix, had you passed this way before us.”

  “It was our pleasure, sir,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam.

  “Now, let us get you underway,” added Mr. Darcy.

  The gentlemen escorted them to the side of the equipage where they saw them seated in the coach. Mr. Darcy extended his hand and assisted first Olivia and then Elizabeth up, and then bowed and stepped away. “I hope you will arrive with no further mishap. I know how ladies love to dance—you might still even arrive in time for the first.”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Elizabeth. “Are you, perhaps, as eager as your friend Mr. Bingley?”

  Mr. Darcy laughed, a rich deep sound. “I cannot claim any such eagerness, Miss Bennet. I believe there are few who can. But I will attempt to do my duty when we arrive.”

 
“I shall hold you to it, sir.”

  Mr. Darcy bowed and stepped away, allowing the rest of the Drummond party to enter the carriage, and with a spoken word from the driver and a shake of the reins, the horses once again began to pull them toward their destination.

  “Now, Mrs. Drummond,” said Mr. Drummond, “does Darcy still seem like an insufferably proud and disagreeable man? How many of his station would insist upon pushing us from the mire himself?”

  Mrs. Drummond did not respond, and well she did not, as there was nothing for her to say. For her part, Elizabeth found herself warmly disposed toward Mr. Darcy, and not only for coming to their rescue that evening. In fact, she had found him to be gentlemanly and warm, and she hoped to learn something more of him during her stay.

  When the carriage came to a stop in front of the assembly hall, the gentlemen disembarked, turned to assist the ladies, and they all entered. The hall was larger than Meryton’s and, as a consequence, could accommodate more dancers, and since the hall was already filling up, Elizabeth thought that was likely for the best. They stood as a party for several moments, speaking softly amongst themselves, and watching others enter.

  It was interesting for Elizabeth to witness those arrivals. There was a much greater variety in the situations of those in attendance, she thought, than existed in Meryton. In the neighborhood with which she was familiar, most of the landowners presided over small estates, her father and his two thousand five hundred being the largest of those permanent residents of the area. The one larger estate, Netherfield Park, had not been occupied since Elizabeth was a girl, and the man who finally leased it was certainly wealthy, but descended from a stock of tradesman, though that fact did not make him any less worthy in Elizabeth’s eyes.

  This neighborhood, however, seemed to have a much wider variety of residents. There were other gentlemen of Mr. Drummond’s general consequence, or so they appeared by their clothing and demeanors, while there were others of gradually greater exalted stations, all the way to whose deportment and dress practically oozed wealth, and whose manners spoke to pride aplenty.

  Her uncle obviously had many acquaintances, for he spoke with several other gentlemen, and it did not seem to matter if they were higher in consequence than he was himself—he seemed to be respected, regardless. Likewise, Elizabeth saw that Edward had many acquaintances of his own, and he seemed to be equally accepted among them.

  By contrast, however, Elizabeth witnessed more than one look of complete disdain directed toward her aunt—those who deigned to notice her at all—though the woman affected no notice of them. There were some few other women with whom her aunt stood and spoke, but unless Elizabeth was mistaken, it seemed like they were mostly of her own general consequence. It seemed rather incongruous that her uncle and cousin should be accepted by all, while her aunt was held in thinly concealed disdain by those higher than she. Elizabeth suspected it was the woman’s own doing.

  As promised, Edward introduced Elizabeth and Olivia to his acquaintances, and through him, they gained some introductions to their sisters, who took their standard up from there. Soon Elizabeth had been welcomed to the district many times over, and Olivia had been welcomed to society.

  It was due to a chance remark on Elizabeth’s part that the adventure of the evening became known to the locals.

  “Mr. Darcy and his cousin assisted you?” asked one young lady with wide eyes.

  “He is frightfully handsome,” opined another.

  “That does not make him amiable,” added a third.

  “Perhaps not, but he has never been anything other than a gentleman,” said a fourth.

  Elizabeth, trying to follow this conversation as she was, hastened to assure her new acquaintances of how she had always found Mr. Darcy to be perfectly amiable.

  “He rarely dances,” said the first young lady with an annoyed sniff.

  “He usually dances with only those with whom he is particularly acquainted,” corrected another. “When he does dance, he is attentive and civil.”

  “I suspect he does not wish to raise expectations,” said a new voice. “Most young ladies of any station would immediately raise their expectations from a dance to matrimony, if he were to be any more than civil.”

  The newcomer was tall and handsome, perhaps a year or two older than Elizabeth, with her exquisite blonde hair tied into an elegant knot at the back of her head. Her dress was made of costly material and of a fashionable design, and her ears and neck glittered with jewelry which appeared to rival to Mr. Bennet’s annual income. Elizabeth did not miss how the other young ladies, even those who gave themselves airs, deferred to her.

  “Why should he need to avoid raising expectations?” asked a persistent young lady, a Miss Burbage, by name. “I have heard that his aunt claims him for her daughter, and that there is an engagement in place.”

  “All the more reason for him to avoid being entrapped by one of you,” replied the regal lady. “But I have it on good authority that this engagement of which you speak is nothing more than the wish of his aunt. Furthermore, this cousin of his is a woman who is already five and twenty. Do you not think they would already be married had he intended to offer for her?”

  The looks of hope that appeared on several faces almost caused Elizabeth to laugh, and she was certain the newcomer had not missed them either. But she ignored them, instead fixing her attention on Elizabeth.

  “Will you ladies do me the honor of introducing your new companion to my acquaintance?”

  The introductions were readily taken up by Miss Burbage, and the woman was introduced as Lady Emily Teasdale, the daughter of the Earl of Chesterfield. Elizabeth curtseyed to the lady, and received a smile in return.

  “Welcome to our society, Miss Bennet, Miss Drummond. I hope your presence will enliven the society we keep.

  “As for the rest of you, though I doubt Mr. Darcy will marry his cousin, you would do well to remember that though he is a gentleman, he also possesses connections to the peerage, and his lineage is ancient and respected. He can expect nothing less than a wife of society, one with a splendid fortune and lineage herself. The daughter of a duke is not beyond his reach.”

  And with that, Lady Emily directed a pleasant nod to Elizabeth, and she turned away, leaving the ladies chastened behind her.

  “Who does she think she is to speak for Mr. Darcy in such a way?” demanded Miss Burbage, though Elizabeth noted the woman had kept her voice quiet.

  “She is the daughter of an earl,” said another woman, a Miss MacDonald. “I dare say she may speak however she wishes.”

  “Perhaps she is. But I do not care for her. Too high and mighty by far.”

  As the young ladies stood and spoke amongst themselves, Elizabeth watched as Lady Emily walked to some other ladies of her acquaintance and began speaking to them. Whatever her new acquaintances said, Elizabeth did not find the lady’s manner to be overly proud or disagreeable. Indeed, she had less overt conceit than Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, with much more reason.

  The result of Elizabeth’s comment about Mr. Darcy was that before long the news flew through the halls on the wings of gossip. It seemed like it was not long before the story was on everyone’s lips, with such a speed as to lead Elizabeth to believe that her uncle and cousin must also have shared the story. It seemed like many waited for the arrival of Mr. Darcy with bated breath, though she was certain that it would be some time yet before he would arrive.

  At length, the musicians began playing the overture for the first dance, and Elizabeth took her place with her cousin. But when Elizabeth made her observation to Edward, he disavowed any culpability in the matter.

  “Mr. Darcy is well known as a man who demands his privacy, and he does not appreciate those who intrude upon it. I do not know the man well enough to speak of the matter, knowing that word of it will make its way back to him. And I am certain my father would not have spoken of it either.”

  “Perhaps I
should have held my tongue,” said Elizabeth. “I had no intent to gossip.”

  Her cousin only shrugged. “I have not much experience with Mr. Darcy, so I cannot tell you how he will react. But I would not expect him to think ill of you for nothing more than a casual comment.”

  Elizabeth hoped that to be the case. For the present, however, she put the matter from her mind and concentrated on the dance and the rest of the company. Other than the words exchanged at the outset of the dance, Edward did not seem eager to speak, and so Elizabeth’s attention was free to wander about the room. Nearby, Olivia danced with her father, and if her laughter was any indication, it seemed the girl was enjoying her first taste of society.

  Elsewhere it appeared like those in attendance were eager to take to the dance floor. The attendance was much greater than what Elizabeth would have seen in Meryton, with couples spread across the length of a floor which was at least a third longer than the assembly hall near her home. Furthermore, there was no Kitty or Lydia to run amok, drawing attention to themselves and embarrassing Elizabeth.

  Once the first dance was complete, Elizabeth lined up for the second with her uncle, while Olivia lined up with her brother. Thus began a whirlwind night for Elizabeth. Contrary to what she might have believed, she had no shortage of dance partners that evening, and she rarely had to sit out a dance. There was something intangible about the evening, something she could not quite put her finger on. The gentlemen were interesting and the ladies, though it was true that some were gossipy and even silly, were amiable and welcoming. It was possible that the simple fact of associating with people with whom she had not previously been acquainted was the reason. But Elizabeth found herself enjoying herself more than she had at an assembly for many months.

  The evening was perhaps half gone when Elizabeth was approached from an entirely unexpected quarter and solicited for a dance. When she thought on the matter, she could not even remember noticing when the gentleman arrived. But the seriousness with which he approached her when she did notice him was unmistakable.