Not All Wealth is Bought with Gold
Chapter I
(With many thanks to JA and Shakespeare)
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. Equally, although less vocally true, is that a woman in possession of no fortune must be in need of a husband.
Although Lady Lucas would never admit the latter.
After all, had not she one daughter comfortably (if not well) married? - with the further consolation of the promise of Longbourn? Indeed, such ruminations suited her admirably, and were frequently employed whenever my lady happened to notice her younger daughter, Maria, whose chances of a successful marriage were now considerably lower than that silly Kitty Bennet - ever since the elder Miss Bennets had exchanged their names for Bingley and Darcy respectively. But days were even the thought of the Longbourn entail brought no consolation for the knowledge of who presently inhabited that estate.
Of course Sir William never distressed himself on the subject - not with sons to raise and gentlemen to impress. Even if he had exerted himself to reflect on Maria's future - Lady Lucas thought - her husband's verdict would no doubt leave much to be desired. Nevertheless apply to Sir William my lady did - for she was as shrewd as she was proud, and excessively determined.
"We must send Maria to Bath, Sir William - we must send her to Bath."
"Bath, what? Capital. With whom, my dear?"
"We may apply to Lady Catherine for that, in time - but she must go ere she turn twenty and she is well past sixteen!"
"Twenty? I see no reason for such haste. Yes, yes, to Bath - but so sudden? Let her tend on Charlotte first, as has been arranged."
"But my dear Sir William, there are no husbands to be got at Rosings! To Bath and without delay!"
"A husband, what? Capital. Shame the regiment moved away, eh? There were husbands to be got there, indeed, what?"
"Husbands, yes - but of such a sort! It could not be endured. Nay, it is not to be considered. We shall not be like certain neighbors, shall we? Nay, Maria shall not marry a red coat. For she is young yet, and pretty, too. I dare say, more handsome than Charlotte, if sillier. But what man of fortune could resist her - should we send her where men of fortune are readily to be found? The readiness is all...so you must see, Sir William."
Sir William at once admitted to perfect clarity, before excusing himself to pace some half-hour in his study, lost to doubt and infrequent cognition - at the end of which was decided that Maria should go to the Collinses, and from thence forth to - with a shudder of fear - perhaps to...but only if Lady Catherine condoned it - well, perhaps to Bath, what?
And, although Sir William was not a praying man - being more concerned with matters of appearance to those immediately around him - after squeaking his answer to his formidable lady, he quickly retired to his study to beg for the prompt destruction of Bath and the equally prompt return of eligible men of fortune.
Chapter II
The news of Maria's impending journey to that most infamously romantic of places was received with shouts of joy and envy in nearly equal parts throughout the whole of Meryton and --shire. Lady Lucas was perhaps the most noteworthy of the former, while a good deal of the latter was harbored in Kitty Bennet's heart -- for Mr. Bennet's injunction that his youngest but one should not follow in her sister's, Mrs. Lydia Wickham's, path still held firm. Poor Kitty Bennet seemed doomed to a life spent within the confines of Longbourn -- although Mr. Bennet had extended her tether to include Bonham and Pemberley (whither Kitty was to be sent within a fortnight to tend on her sister, Mrs. Darcy, who was some five months pregnant).
To this brew of communal emotions was the element of despair -- and that from the fortunate girl herself.
"I've no desire to go to Bath, Kitty," Maria confided one day when she and her compatriot had escaped the morning niceties due Mrs. Bennet.
"Whyever not? I think the idea is more than exciting. Imagine the adventures a young lady might encounter there!"
"Imagine what peril!" Maria retorted, tearing the petals from her nosegay. "I should die of fright -- and no Kitty there with me."
"Perhaps Lady Catherine will forbid it."
"Yet my mother is resolved. I must secure a husband -- and more, I must secure one with an income to match or exceed Jane and Lizzy, if I am to live peaceably. I will be fortunate if I find one to match Mr. Collins!"
Both girls shuddered.
"Perhaps," Kitty ventured at length, "you might come with me to Pemberley. Lord only knows how dull a time I should have there, since Mary is to accompany me. She shall spend all her time with Lizzy, moralizing to the midwife -- I shouldn't wonder --, and I shall be left with Mr. Darcy."
"Yet he is greatly altered, is he not? ...And the connections are not all bad," Maria said, swaying a little.
"Indeed -- Mr. Darcy is altered in many respects -- but he is still too silent for me...Why do you smile so?"
For Maria had ceased tearing her nosegay and had begun grinning foolishly into the bedraggled flowers. Kitty pressed her friend again, but could elicit no response beyond a smothered giggle. The envy which had been growing in Kitty progressed rapidly to frustration and then surprise as she realized that Maria's present behaviour -- including this absurd abhorrence of Bath and all that Bath implied -- sprang not from a fear of marriage, but from the desire for a specific marriage -- one that apparently was not to be found in any Roman structure.
"Who is he, Maria?" Kitty asked suddenly.
Maria stopped and looked down the road for the man Kitty had promised. No man was forthcoming, however, and so Maria was obliged to answer, "I see no one."
"No -- I meant to ask what man has caught your fancy? For you are behaving as intolerably giddy as Jane ever was."
Maria blanched and professed most inefficaciously that she had no thought of any man. Again Kitty inquired and again Maria denied, until Kitty -- losing all patience and maturity that she had gained in a year, cried, "Another insipid remark like that, and I shall tell my Aunt Phillips that you long to marry Captain Denny! Nay! That you aspire to -- oh, what is his name -- Col. Fitzwilliam! And soon all of Meryton shall profess you to be nothing but a fool and a mimic! What shall you say to that?"
"I shall say," Maria tremored, "that you are a most unkind friend, Catherine Bennet!"
And with that Maria fled back to her own home, where not even Sir William's cheerful comments lightened her despair, nor Kitty's plea for forgiveness from downstairs alleviated her distress, nor the knowledge that tomorrow she was bound to the Collinses where she would inevitably be called to wait on Lady Catherine who might -- please Lord! -- forbid her travel to Bath, comforted her in any regard.
For Kitty had been only too correct in her spiteful jests, and Maria Lucas was deeply and violently in love with Col. Fitzwilliam -- with not the slightest hope of ever realizing her desires.
Chapter III
Even pleasures once considered delectable can become bland if not dreary when indulged in too frequently. Mr. Collins' speech, however, has never been considered more than tolerable, and his regular superfluity of grandiloquence was well nigh intolerable.
"This chamber is, as you see, dear sister, very happily situated, being neither directly east nor directly west, and therefore our dear little Catherine - named, I need not remind you, after our very dear patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh - who, herself, condescended to recommend the name to us, should our child be a girl - which, of course, you see she is - but that our dear child should not suffer from the morning nor the evening sun shining in too brightly when she either deigns to rise or sleep - and thus, so Lady Catherine herself informs us - little Catherine might benefit from the same precautions my patroness was sure to afford her own daughter, Miss Anne De Bourgh - whom, I might add with no great fear of trespassing on that formidable lady's privacy - for she is as sweet, patient, good and condescending as Lady Catherine herself - has been greatly restored by the baths...at Bath, as you no doubt guessed, dear sister - being of a ready wit yourself, although none could ever hope to match the mind of my dear Lady Catherine - nor your sister, my wife, who has made me the happiest of men - but at Bath, whither, I have been informed by no less than Sir William himself - information that has been confirmed by my cousin, Mr. Bennet - and which information I have taken the very great liberty, which I beg you would forgive, dear sister - the great liberty of relaying to lady Catherine, that she might advise you on every particular of your journey and stay at Bath - for she is indeed most attentive - yea, that she might condescend to shower you with such advice this very evening - for we have been invited to Rosings to dine - indeed, were invited nearly as soon as I heard news a month ago that you would be visiting our humble abode this very day - at which time Lady Catherine de Bourgh so graciously said that it had been too long, far too long since you had waited on her, dear sister, and that we should present you as soon has you had the opportunity to avail yourself of a bath (ah-hem, yes) - for Miss Anne's health, although much improved is still adverse to dirt or dust of any kind - but, in short, that we shall all thither to Rosings as soon as you may be presentable...dear sister. Ah! Here is your room! And I shall leave you and Mrs. Collins alone, for the present, ah, yes - as soon as possible, my dear wife, for Lady Catherine must not be kept waiting! Until very shortly then, dear sister - very shortly. Ah, yes, good then. I shall...I shall be in my study, Mrs. Collins, if you have need of me - attending to the Holy Writ, in preparation for this Sunday's sermon...."
Thus with many scrapes and bows, Mr. Collins extracted himself from his lady's and her sister's presence, with the great aid of Mrs. Collins' tight smile. Upon the grateful and long delayed closing of the door, Charlotte turned to her sister - who had grown remarkably well within a year's time, so Charlotte marveled again - and bestowed on Maria one of her few embraces.
"I have missed you," Charlotte said simply, opening Maria's trunk and sorting through its contents to find a suitable gown for the evening.
Maria replied in kind, fidgeting her gloves from her fingers and pacing anxiously to the window. In the distance, she could see Rosings with its numerous windows frowning between the tall poplar trees. Her eyes slowly wandered to the park, and she leaned against the sill, barely listening to the thump and rattle and occasional comment of her sister behind her. How long ago had Maria stayed in this very room on her first visit to the Collinses with Lizzy - Mrs. Darcy, she must now remember - and met with the Colonel? And that lovely morning, not a few weeks before Mrs. Darcy and herself removed from -shire, when she had waited with the Colonel for Lizzy to return. Mr. Darcy had stopped in briefly that day, too - when only just before he had proposed and been rejected by his lady! Maria sighed - the paragon of true love and determination, she thought. Would that she were half so fortunate.
"The yellow figured muslin?" Charlotte's voice awakened Maria from her reverie. Absently, Maria assented and betwixt the two sisters, managed to dress Maria appropriately.
Within twenty minutes the whole assemblage, including little Catherine - for Lady Catherine took much delight in beholding her namesake, Mr. Collins informed Maria - hastened to Rosings, and from thence to the gargantuan parlor where her ladyship waited in state. Mr. Collins at once expressed his gratitude, his overwhelming gratitude to his patroness for such distinction both on his own humble behalf and on the behalf of his wife and daughter and his very dear sister - who admitted to being overjoyed to wait on Lady Catherine once more. The party were quickly ushered in to the dining hall where Mr. Collins took it upon himself to laud every drop and morsel and point out the especial shine of the silver and delicacy of the squabs. Lady Catherine received the attentions well, adding that she had always possessed refinement in every manner of taste, as did Anne, naturally.
Maria listened little and partook less, except to answer - when Mr. Collins did not first - Lady Catherine's direct questions regarding her family, her parents, her prospects and plans, and all other particulars Lady Catherine demanded.
Miss Lucas' absent behaviour did not go unmarked by Lady Catherine - who at once said, "You eat little, Miss Lucas. Do you not approve of the menu?"
Maria jumped, nearly scattering the smothered peas in her surprise.
Mr Collins at once interjected - intent on excusing his sister's behaviour on the grounds of the arduous journey - but was silenced almost immediately by Lady Catherine saying, "Yes, you are very pale and sickly looking tonight. Are you feverish?"
Maria replied that she was not.
"Then you ascribe to the dictates of fashion? You aspire to tiny waists and fainting spells?"
"No indeed, Lady Catherine!"
"And why not?"
Maria was obviously bewildered by this strain of questioning and glanced to Charlotte for assistance.
"The attack of the vapors in public is most ill-bred, is it not, Lady Catherine?" Charlotte said.
"Only if habitual."
"Indeed, Lady Catherine, is most correct," Mr. Collins enthused, shooting a warning look at the Lucas sisters. "I assure you my dear sister will be well-fed at the Parsonage."
"I have no doubt she will, but I long to hear Miss Lucas' response! Miss Lucas, you look most absently about, have no appetite, and answer none of my queries. Are you, perhaps, in love?"
Maria shook her head, curls bobbing every which way, and began fumbling with her knife and fork as though unsure what they were.
"Ah...I see you keep a most eventful house, Mrs. Collins. But I hope that we shall not have an encore of when last Miss Lucas and Miss Be...Mrs. Dar...my nephews visited?"
Charlotte assured Lady Catherine on this matter while Mr. Collins at once sought his patroness' advice on the matter of Bath, to which Lady Catherine readily - and at some length - replied, continuing her advice well past dinner and into the drawing room. Maria's preoccupation was rewarded at the card table, for Lady Catherine enjoyed any petty victory, and Miss Lucas' disposition that evening was soon forgotten.
Maria's wandering attention focused quickly enough, though, as the party stood waiting in the great hall for the carriage to come around, and Lady Catherine turned to Mr. Collins and said, "You may call on Sunday next for tea, Mr. Collins, but not before. My nephew is to visit me, and although you may meet with him (here she glanced suspiciously at Maria) to shew your proper respects, I shall have no need of your prolonged company until a fortnight hence."
Mr Collins at once declared that Lady Catherine was all politeness and generosity. But no effusion of obsequiousness could quite mask the remarkable change in Maria's countenance, and Lady Catherine found herself as much distressed by this as she had ever been by another impertinent girl.
Chapter IV
(Indebted, and a modest tribute, to Charlotte Bronte; with equal thanks to Sense and Sensibility; and a mocking sneer to the fanciful imagination of your humble authoress who is longing for a moor right about now....)
With nary to do for another se'ennight but listen to Mr. Collins' prattle, Maria - a normally unadventuresome young girl - took it upon herself to examine the surrounding environs. What she found was most pleasing, even to her inexperienced eye, and one especial view caught her fancy almost immediately.
Atop a lonely ridge, dotted here and there with violets and Queen Anne's lace, stood one particularly immense tree whose branches dipped low enough that even the slight Maria - encumbered, as she was, by skirt and petticoat, bonnet and reticule - could clamber into its branches and sit some hours together quiet and alone. The nearest inhabitant was at least two miles away, and completely indiscernible from her leafy vantage; although the spreading valleys, opening to the bright sky overhead, were unobstructed and seemed to the citified Maria like the verdant footsteps of some long-past giant, or the most pleasant crystal-drop dream glimpsed just before one awakes.
Unfortunately, having grown up with so many siblings constantly around her, Maria was unable to bear the absolute silence for long and had, upon no more than a quarter-hour of hushed wonder, begun humming to herself. Her voice was quite pleasant, if untrained, and provided the necessary distraction sometimes necessary to we merely mortal who cannot long bear beauty. However, her humming not only eased the silence, but also kept her from noticing the gentleman who rode up to her very hiding place.
He - a tall fellow even without the aid of horse or hat - pulled short when he heard the sylphic voice coming from he knew not where, and listened for some long minutes while Maria continued oblivious. Thereafter, had a passerby been in attendance - which, of course, no passerby was - he would have seen that same gentleman return every day. Perhaps, though, our interloper would not have seen the expression on the gentleman's face, since it was often hidden by the shadow of the hat and the dark curls pressed beneath it - but if he had, he would have marked the strong features accustomed to reserve and judgement (not unlike this gentleman's cousin's own countenance had once been observed) softened barely perceptively in his shoulder's stance and cheekbones. But perhaps, had our non-existent passerby dared to examine so imposing a figure more closely, he might also have seen the proprietary gleam within that gentleman's dark eye.
Maria, of course, was unaware that any but the flora heard her, and so took no precaution humming and clambering and occasionally conversing with no one in particular. She happily filled the hours she stole from the Parsonage anticipating Sunday - and entertaining the hope that the nephew Lady Catherine spoke of might be the Colonel himself. So had she passed one late morning, the day before they were to return to Rosings, dallying in her tree, when it began to rain and very soon after began to pour - and so a drenched Maria cried out, stumbling and entangled in the foliage.
The gentleman's mouth quirked, but he offered no help to the young lady as she extracted herself and toppled to the ground, slipping a little in the dirt and pushing her damp hair out of her eyes. Her face was completely hidden by her bedraggled bonnet, and her dress clung awkwardly around her figure. She wore only one glove, having snagged the other on a branch in her haste to descend and consequently giving it up for lost. Distressed, she threw down her arms in agitation, and began the long tromp homewards.
Only after thoroughly enjoying the picture did the gentleman approach her, riding his chestnut horse around from behind and barring her passage. Maria looked up, squinting against the rain, and pushing back her bonnet - which immediately fell and was filled up with water. The man's eyes glimmered and he murmured something Maria didn't quite hear over a convenient roll of thunder. But the motion of his hand to help her mount was unmistakable.
Miss Lucas had been known in Hertfordshire as a silly girl, but had gleaned some sense within the past year, and so - although taken aback that there should be any gentleman in the vicinity whatsoever - she ignored the man and walked around the horse. Once more the man circled her and barred her path - once more Maria refused him.
"Will you deny me again, oh fair nymph?" the man said.
Maria hesitated.
"Or do you prefer the rain?"
"No, sir. I am on my way to the Parsonage."
"You live at the Parsonage, then? That tree is not your bower?"
"I am visiting my sister," Maria attempted, only to be drowned out by a sheet of rain that plastered her ringlets to her cheek and blew away her reticule.
"What?"
"I am visiting my sister!" Maria cried, as she dashed after her windblown possession.
The man watched surprised for a moment, before digging his heels into the chestnut's flanks, and pulling up beside her. "Then let me bring you home."
"N-no! I thank you."
"Truly - I insist. You shall catch a cold and ruin your voice."
"No...I sha...a...n'tch!" sneezed our heroine.
"Have you no idea who offers you his aid?"
"Yes - a peep-eye and a scoundrel!"
"A peep-eye! Scoun.... You mistake yourself, nymph!"
"Then I am sorry. Let me pass."
"You are determined to walk some three miles in this...condition?"
"La! Is it three miles?"
Once more the man extended his hand. But Maria, seeing (as our passerby - who seems to have completely lost his way, and so never made any of the observations he might have, had he invested in a map - did not) the awful gleam in this stranger's eye as he bent towards her, pulled back.
Then with a shrug and a parting glance, the man laughed and rode away, leaving Maria to make her treacherous path down the ridge, through the meadow, across the park and to the Parsonage - where she was greeted with Charlotte who at once tended to her sister with warm blankets and rebukes, remarking, in passing, that had not Maria been more attentive to her respects due to Mr. Collins she might have been at home some fifteen minutes previous to greet Gregory Fitzwilliam, Earl Wendell, the nephew to Lady Catherine - who, Charlotte added, had been rather sodden himself.
Chapter V
The long-anticipated Sunday was now at hand - it could not be postponed - it was here.
But, oh, how Maria dreaded it.
She could not sleep - she huddled in her bed and coughed (still cold through from the previous day's debacle). She could not eat - and neither Mr. Collins' admonitions on behalf of Lady Catherine nor Charlotte's stern disapproval could move her to touch one crumb. And she certainly could not pay attention at the service. Mr. Collins' homily lasted forever - nay, a mere eternity - 'twas a simple infinity! - had no end....
And still Maria sat and fidgeted and coughedÉd and sneezed and looked about her and rubbed her eyes and twisted her fingers and kicked her legs and sighed and sneezed again. Charlotte brushed her sister's arm to settle her, dark eyes shifting quickly to where Lady Catherine sat across from them, that lady's squinted features rounding to glare at Miss Lucas. So turning, Maria saw Miss De Bourgh who sniffled near as much as she, and beside Miss De Bourgh a tall figure become all too familiar yesterday - Lord Wendell.
Maria stilled - the sermon could not last long enough.
But even Mr. Collins was not inexhaustible, and in due course he paraded from the chapel, assisting Lady Catherine on her way, thanking her for her gracious presence this morning and even more generous engagement this afternoon, which he anticipated with great pleasure - although Lord Wendell had called on them the previous day - in the rain, Mr. Collins? Yes, in the rain, but only briefly and - he assured Lady Catherine - but shortly...that is, shortly but lengthily enough to offer the new Earl every courtesy due him, indeed, every amenity had been offered her ladyship's nephew....
Miss De Bourgh followed her mother, assisted by Mrs. Jenkinson, who was in turn followed by Charlotte and little Catherine - leaving Maria to scurry behind. Lord Wendell did not come immediately after - much to Maria's relief - but dallied to view the chapel. Unfortunately, our heroine's safety was short-lived, for Mr. Collins would do nothing less but attend on Lady Catherine as she waited for Lord Wendell's return - and further, he must engage her in conversation.
Maria was of half a mind to continue walking to the house despite the incredible rudeness of such an act, when Lord Wendell appeared and declared the chapel to be "quaint." Mr. Collins blanched at this, bowing a little and expounding on its humble but sincere congregation who - if it were not for her ladyship's presence, and Lord Wendell's own - might indeed be named "quaint," if not "rustic." Lady Catherine did not take well to such censure either, and hushed Mr. Collins with the sharp retort of what, if anything, did the young earl find lacking?
Lord Wendell turned to face his aunt with such an expression of condescension and patronage - as well as proud mirth - that Lady Catherine could only reply that if it did not inconvenience Lord Wendell overmuch, he might accompany his lady kinfolk to Rosings - at once! This my lord did, glancing casually at Maria (although, he had been watching her from the corner of his eye during the whole of the service and had spent only a few minutes inspecting the chapel after its desertion, at which time he wandered covertly to the door to observe Miss Lucas better), before bidding the whole adieu until that afternoon.
Charlotte, who paid little interest to her husband's constant effusions, watched my lord's ocular direction with great attention, saying privately to her sister as they walked back to the Parsonage, a playful smile tugging at her lips, "Lord Wendell seems to have taken quite a fancy to you."
Maria colored, but could not deny it.
"However, you would do well to remain on the side of caution, Maria. I doubt Lady Catherine would take well if she were to lose another nephew. And Mr. Collins might suffer for it."
"Oh, I've no interest in Lord Wendell."
"Your interest may be of little concern to him, Maria. The nobility is sometimes insensible to consequences beyond their immediate desires."
No more was said of the matter, though, until the whole were assembled in Rosings. Maria had taken every precaution to seat herself beside Charlotte - but to no avail. Mrs. Jenkinson and Miss De Bourgh took the place she had desired, and poor Maria was forced to take a seat by Lord Wendell who appeared unsuitably satisfied with the arrangements.
"Do you play, Miss Lucas?" Lord Wendell inquired as soon as formal introductions were made.
"No, I have never learnt."
"A grave oversight on your mother's part," Lady Catherine sniffed.
"Neither does my cousin play," Lord Wendell replied with little consideration for Miss De Bourgh's feelings. "Yet I believe you do sing, Miss Lucas?"
"But not proficiently."
"And there are none to accompany her," Lady Catherine declared.
"Oh, I had no thought of anyone accompanying Miss Lucas, Aunt. She sings well enough alone."
"Alone! Quite unseemly."
"Yes, quite unseemly. And most prettily, too. Would you honor us, madam?"
Maria gulped.
"I hear you are but lately come to your title, Lord Wendell," Charlotte said quickly.
"Indeed, I am. My father passed away but two months ago."
"Pray, Nephew, how does Richard fare?" Lady Catherine asked.
Maria sat up straighter at the sound of Col. Fitzwilliam's Christian name, her eyes rounding in discreet joy.
Lord Wendell laughed. "He does well enough, although I believe he still grieves. His regiment has been moved westerly, though, to Avon, I believe - and that's some consolation."
"Consolation to whom?"
"Both. We have...never got along well, Aunt."
Lady Catherine sniffed. "No. You have not. He would do well to marry, I think. As would you."
"Your matchmaking is singular, Aunt. You may, of course, impose your dearest wish upon my younger brother - for he is much in want of a wealthy woman, but with his disposition is likely to allow his heart to rule rather than his duty. It seems to be a failing amongst all your nephews."
"I would ask you to refrain from mentioning such wretched incidents in my presence."
"And I would ask you to refrain from pairing me with my cousin."
Several voices collided at that moment, but surprisingly, it was Maria's delicate instrument that rose above them all. "How cruel, Lord Wendell - 'for shame!"
Silence reigned.
"For shame, Miss Lucas?" Lord Wendell said at last. "I am all astonishment."
Mr Collins hastened to excuse his cousin's behaviour - but Lord Wendell professed to have taken no offense - and the remainder of visit was spent in reviewing old news and mouthing customary niceties. Maria took little part thereafter in the discussion, grateful that Lady Catherine demanded the majority of Lord Wendell's attention and that Charlotte was always ready with some question whenever my lord appeared disposed to engage Maria in conversation.
Never had Maria been so grateful to leave a place - never had she a greater appreciation for the possibilities of Bath over familiar surroundings - never had she realized the folly of her morning rambles. And yet to secure an Earl! - Lady Lucas would be overjoyed. And not a soldier of any stripe, either. What more could Maria desire? - wealth, position, esteem, security....
"He has not made you an offer!" Maria chided herself when she was alone in her room. But, nevertheless, a small bead of sweat trickled down her back and the linen on her pillow grew wrinkled in her tight fists as Maria prepared to spend another sleepless night at the Parsonage.
But exhaustion eventually overcame her, and all she could remember of her dreams the next morning, was the constant repetition of Lord Wendell's face and tone - with only the distant, wavering reflection of his brother, echoing faintly in the youthful wilds of her heart.
Chapter VI Wherein Maria receives a most welcome letter and a most unwelcome visitor.
The next day passed without incident, for Maria would not leaveì her room that morning, and would not quit the house that afternoon. The day after, she ventured downstairs before the sun's zenith, but would go no farther than the parlor. Yet on the third day, she was coaxed to take a turn about the Parsonage's modest grounds - on the clear understanding that she would not even so much as look at the Park, nor be forced to tread near it. Charlotte tolerated all this with exterior equanimity, but was perhaps more pleased than her sister when the post arrived with a letter for Maria from her friend Kitty Bennet.
Maria at once escaped to the Parsonage and sequestered herself in her room.
My dear Maria,Wonderful news! Most joyful! I have been....
But allow me to be proper (something that Mr. Darcy, who is even now smiling smugly, has been attempting to teach me something forcible!).
We are all well here at Pemberley. The journey was of no great difficulty, although Mary's presence lengthened it, somewhat. Lizzy is doing well, although grossly pregnant - or so it seems to me, although I am assured by any and all that she is but showing yet. Mr. Darcy attends to her something awful - he is indeed a most considerate husband! Lizzy bears Mr. Darcy's constant presence well, and with great humor - and I may tell you, Maria, that you are indeed correct in your assumption that he has altered - for I have seen him smile no less than thrice since I have come here! I must give him credit, too, for he has eased the burden of Mary's sermonizing by introducing her to his library - which Mary informs him at every meal, is most thorough, enlightening, and immense. Lizzy is as ever, but she smiles still more at all our foibles.
We have had visitors, too. Jane and Mr. Bingley have dined with us, and we are expected at Bonham to return the compliment in a week. My Aunt and Uncle Gardiner have also called, but I saw little of them for my Aunt immediately tended on Lizzy and nothing would suit my Uncle and Mr. Darcy better than to go fishing. I have not seen Lydia, although I dearly long to - she and Mr. Wickham have been refused from setting foot on Mr. Darcy's grounds. Lizzy agrees with her husband, naturally, but I do think it most cruel of both of them to deny me the opportunity of seeing my own sister!
Miss Georgiana Darcy and I are becoming friendly, although she is far too shy for me and of such a timid disposition that I sometimes fear she shall break. Lizzy assures me that Georgiana is not quite so fragile that I mightn't spent more time with her - and I am not completely adverse, for she reminds me of you, in a few respects - but she is so good, I hardly know what to make of her. She loves everything - her brother, Lizzy, the Bingleys, Pemberley, Mrs. Reynolds - nothing is not wonderful. Nothing, perhaps, but Lydia's husband - for she becomes most distressed when I speak of my sister. I dare say she plays exquisitely, though, and I am assured that she dances quite as well.
For - oh, no, I have not written that yet - we are to have a ball presently (although not at Pemberley - even though its ballroom is the most elegant I've ever beheld - Netherfield cannot compare!). Lizzy cannot attend, being in confinement, but Georgiana and I are to go and I suppose we must bring Mary, too - and Colonel Fitzwilliam is to escort us! He is en route to Bristol, so Mr. Darcy informs us. Imagine, Maria - that is near Bath, is it not?
Which brings me roundabout to my censured opening -
My father has allowed me to accompany you, Maria! Or rather, he has allowed me to join with you. Mr. Bingley has business in that part of the country, so I understand, and he will escort me there, whither I shall meet you. Is it not lovely? Is it not grand?
My Father professes that 'twas my Mother and your Parents that 'drove him to it' - but I hardly care the means! Oh, Bath, Maria - wìhat adventures shall we have there! And you must now be longing for adventures, after all this time with my horrid cousin and his horrid patroness. A dull time, I am sure. Although Lizzy tells me that many events of a most unusual and adventurous nature took place there when she visited. I have no idea what she can mean by such a cryptic statement, but Mr. Darcy's composure - no matter how stern - always rallies when she mentions it.
How I long to see you again, Maria! May your visit go swiftly - I am sure mine cannot go swift enough. Mr. Darcy is now raising his eyebrows, and I must draw to a close.
I remain yours, &tc.,
Catherine Bennet
Maria read the latter part of the missive several times through, clutching the paper to her chest and nearly crying with relief. Her determination to read the entirety once again, however, was interrupted by Charlotte's knock at the door and the information that Lord Wendell was waiting downstairs and would not remove until he had visited with Miss Lucas.
"Mr Collins is with him now," Charlotte said, "but Lord Wendell is of such a disposition that he cannot long wait upon my husband's entertainment."
"La! Perhaps Mr. Collins will drive him off!"
"I should be more concerned that Lord Wendell might take it upon himself to seek you out."
"He would not dare!"
"Indeed, there seems very little that he would not dare."
"You jest, Charlotte!"
"Perhaps I do, but it serves no one to be rude. Visit with him for some fifteen minutes - that should serve propriety, I think?"
"And you shall remain with me?"
"If I can."
Maria nodded and put the letter aside, walking down the stairs like a soldier to his execution.
"How pleasant to see you again, Miss Lucas!" said Lord Wendell, rising. "I had begun to fear you should never return to your bower - and I might never have the pleasure of your clandestine company. Shall we walk?"
"Whither, Lord Wendell?"
"But three miles hence might serve admirably."
"My sister has been ill, my lord," Charlotte interjected. "She cannot walk far."
"Then we shall take a turn around the park, Miss Lucas - alone, if your sister does not object."
Charlotte could not, and Mr. Collins would not, so together Maria and Lord Wendell set out.
Maria was at quite a loss for what to say, but Lord Wendell had conversation readily at hand, although the brunt of it was directed at Lady Catherine. At the end of one particularly spiteful diatribe, he glanced sideways at his companion and said, "Will you call me cruel now, madam?"
"I might indeed!"
"And scoundrel, as well? No, never mind. I've no wish to provoke you further."
"Your behaviour is provocation enough!...Lord Wendell."
He laughed. "You play the innocent well, Miss Lucas. I give you credit for that. So many of our cultured ladies have the air of naivete - but you are she herself! My brother painted no mean picture of you."
"He...he has spoken of me?"
"On occasion. But I fear he was gravely mistaken in one regard."
"Yes?"
"You are more charming than he let on."
Maria blushed, and silently cursed her own simple response.
"Of course," Lord Wendell continued, "he was most taken at the time with Mrs. Darcy, I believe."
"Yes, I think he was."
"And who could not be? I have met her, once, and my cousin has chosen well - although Mrs. Darcy is in possession of too sharp a wit for my tastes. But I commend Fitzwilliam for his predilection to thwart my Aunt."
"Do you think that is the only reason he married Li...Mrs. Darcy?"
"Could there be any other? Or any other of more noble enterprise?"
"And you would do the same?"
"I had thought that much was abundantly clear."
They walked some way in silence, until they came to the bend back towards the Parsonage when Lord Wendell turned suddenly to Maria and said, "I shall not trifle with you - it is obvious that you are as admirably stupid as you are pretty. I can think of no better means of distressing my Aunt than proposing to you (except, of course, your acceptance) - the daughter of a self-styled landed gentleman!, and the sister to her parson - it suits me very well. I am wealthy and considered by some rude - such a match would pose no inconvenience to either party. I beg pardon if I am hasty in this regard, but I leave the day after next and you have made yourself most scarce. I can only presume that you fully understood my attentions and have been playing the coquette - for which I thank you - the game has been most...."
"Sir!" Maria stopped him. "You are not proposing to me!"
"If I am not, I should be most surprised. Such has been my intention since Sunday."
"Since Sunday!"
"Certainly."
"And you thought to recommend yourself to me by insulting Miss De Bourgh!"
"My lineage alone is recommendation, if my wealth were insufficient."
"This is" most unexpected!" Maria said pacing to and fro. "Most sudden! I cannot think - cannot decide!"
"Then allow me to instruct you: accept."
"I cannot!"
"You would refuse me?"
Maria stopped and picked at the fingers of her gloves. How pleased her mother would be, and Charlotte, too. How much comfort could she bring her family by such a connection. Every thought condoned it. Every sense screamed acceptance. Her stomach was an aviary, her heart no less. Her brain was a whir of emotion, her lips tingled with anticipation. And yet....
"I cannot. I thank you for the compliment, but I cannot. I pray you would forgive me," and with that she fled to the Parsonage, surprised that tears welled to her eyes despite the relief that shuddered through her being. Charlotte at once called up to her, but Maria would not answer. News came soon after from Mr. Collins, who had waited on Lady Catherine during Maria's absence, that Lord Wendell had most ungraciously - but thankfully - taken a very hasty leave from Kent and all its environs.
The remainder of Maria's visit passed uneventfully, except for the increasingly warm reception by Lady Catherine for Miss Lucas - who she declared a charming, sensible girl, although still too pallid for any gentleman's taste.
Arrangements had been settled for Maria to depart for Bath a mere fortnight after her return to Lucas Lodge. And, to tell the truth, Maria was much pleased by the prospect of any change, since the image of Lord Wendell had plagued her journey home and caused many restless nights while in Hertfordshire. Lady Lucas, naturally, inquired with bewildering regularity, what made Maria so sullen and withdrawn? Sir William tempted Maria with sweets and jokes, but his young daughter would reveal naught. Oh, but she was cruelly teased by her younger brothers who guessed her secret right off -- and a change of scene was more than welcome.
She was to travel with a Mrs. Garvers -- a plump, jolly woman -- and Mrs. Garvers' two young children who fought and squabbled and might have upset the carriage with their shenanigans had they been full-grown. The purpose of this family's journey was, according to Mrs. Garvers, for the good of the children -- who she professed to be sickly. Maria smiled at this declaration, although a more fallacious statement had never been made, and admitted to the more mercenary purpose of her own journey. Mrs. Garvers exclaimed shock and indignation, which she quickly followed with advice on husband-catching.
"You must say very little, Miss Lucas, very little, unless you agree with him -- and you must always agree with him, if you are to secure him. And you must not be fussy, Miss Lucas, no indeed, you must not. You must smile at every man of fortune, smile and bat your eyelashes and lower your head and hold your hands together and smile again -- for then he will think much of you and your opinion. And I dare say, if you do this, Miss Lucas, that is, if you do as I have instructed, why I shouldn't be surprised to hear about the town that you have had no less than five -- nay, ten! -- offers before the month is out!" And then Mrs. Garvers giggled and patted Maria briskly on the arm three times.
The remainder of the excursion was spent commiserating with Mrs. Garvers on the poor condition of her robust children, agreeing with her laudations of the benefits of cod liver oil and salt tonic, and listening with rapt attention to her complaints against Mr. Garvers who had refused to accompany them to Bath on the excuse that their eldest son could no longer delay the London Season. Upon reaching that westerly town, Maria and the Garvers made their polite separation, promising to write and visit and trade gossip soon --¿ with not the least inclination on either side to uphold such an oath.
Maria knew little about the Delfords, the family with whom she and Kitty would stay, except that Mrs. Delford had been a great friend of Lady Lucas when my lady had spent her summers in Essex with an Aunt. The head of the family was Mr. Eduard Delford, who was but twenty and very ill indeed -- although he might have been handsome had he been in good health. Maria noticed the weary sadness in his large eyes when he greeted her, and was at once disposed to like him. His sister, Miss Else Delford, was her brother's opposite, for she was lively and good-humored with a face that was not beautiful -- being too provincially ruddy and tip-tilted -- but was nevertheless ravishing when she exerted herself -- which she often did. Mrs. Delford completed the party -- but she was often out visiting friends and taking the waters, dressed in habitual, if not heartfelt, mourning black.
Miss Else Delford quickly took it upon herself to befriend Miss Lucas, and soon they were referring to each other by their Christian names. Else paraded Maria around the whole of Bath, pointing out the particular beauties of that town and its surroundings, as well as acquainting our heroine with every person Else knew -- which knowledge seemed to encompass the entire town. Else proved to be a gay companion indeed, determined that her newfound friend should enjoy every delight Bath provided, to live each day as if it were their last.
Maria enjoyed these outings and could admit with perfect honesty that she had never experienced so many joys in one week, but she also found great pleasure in Mr. Delford's company which she sought out in the early morning hours, before Else had awoken, when she might find Mr. Delford by himself.
"Do you avail yourself of the Baths often, Mr. Delford?" she asked one bright morning.
He smiled wanly and pulled the blanket around his shoulders. "Nearly every day. But I fear it has done me little good. My family has summered here since I was ten in the hopes that the waters would cure me, but you can see that I have remained as sickly as ever."
"Perhaps you need sunlight and fresh air, more than green water and Roman columns. Or society?"
"I do not much care for society, Miss Lucas. And they do not care much for me."
"But how can you know? You never go out. At least, not with Else and I."
"My sister's choice of entertainment leaves much to be desired. Although it is diverting, it is rarely ever edifying."
"And you prefer your books, do you?"
"Very much, indeed. Do you not read, Miss Lucas?"
"I do, but not near as much as you. I have not the patience."
"Yet you have sat with me in this dusty library nearly every morning. I should say that proves some patience on your part."
"Oh, but your company requires no patience, Mr. Delford! I quite enjoy talking with you."
"You enjoy conversing with an melancholy invalid? A man who is barely a man, one who is both twenty and fifty?"
"But you are a true gentleman, Mr. Delford. And that is more than I can say for...other men of my acquaintance."
Mr Delford laughed at this, so loud and strong that Maria could not help but smile widely. "You do not approve of Else's gentlemen? I wonder how Lady Lucas should like to hear that!"
"You are mistaken, Mr. Delford. The gentlemen of Bath are indeed handsome...."
"But not tempting enough for you, Miss Lucas?"
Maria nodded her head in agreement.
"Then I must conclude that you have had an unfortunate incident elsewhere with a gentleman who was not a gentleman?"
Again Maria nodded.
"You must then count yourself fortunate, Miss Lucas. Few women are afforded the opportunity to live like the heroines of novels. But I shall press you no further on this subject -- lest I behave no better than that gentleman to whom you alluded. But tell me, Miss Lucas, of your friend Miss Bennet, for I have received a letter from her but yesterday saying that she shall arrive a few days hence, and I should like to know the disposition of one whom you account a friend."
Maria obliged him at some length until Else ran down the stairs, two parasols in hand, and dragged Maria out for a morning constitutional. They meandered at first without purpose or direction until Else seized upon the notion of viewing the Crescent. As they walked along that magnificent avenue, Maria could not help but notice that her companion's eyes had squinted and that she held her parasol more tightly.
"We are not rich enough to live there, Maria," Else confided, "But one day I shall be. I am determined to marry well."
"Have you a beau?"
"I have several, and have rejected several proposals already. Mr. St Giles is the most persistent of the lot, but he owns but a small estate in Cornwall, and I've no intention of seriously considering anyone who lives more than half a day's easy ride from Town."
"Not even if he is titled?"
"If he is titled and wealthy, then he might buy a house in London for me! But what of you, Maria? Mr. Ladislaw singled you out more than once last night at the musicale, I noticed."
"La! If Mr. Ladislaw spoke to me, Else, it was only to be nearer to you!"
"Tush! I have rejected Mr. Ladislaw twice! Even he is not fool enough to wrangle with Mr. St Giles and dare to propose to me again."
"How many times has Mr. St Giles proposed to you?"
"Six times. If you don't count the first, which I do not."
"What happened then?"
"We were but children. I've no desire to remember it, thank you, Maria. I aim to catch a wealthy husband, not youthful fancies!"
Maria blushed at this, surprised at the sudden image of the Colonel's gentle features, but could not help but ask, "And is there no place for love?"
"Love is a perquisite. Gold is the only thing that lasts, Maria. You marry the money, not the man. Oh -- but here he comes now! My! But how he does rush! Good afternoon, Mr. St Giles."
The gentleman who approached them was a tall, gawky fellow whose fashionable clothes hung loosely on his frame. He had a plain face but an honest one, and was one of those men who feel it necessary to bow at every opportunity.
"Miss Delford, Miss Lucas," he said, bending once to each lady, his slouch hat held in both hands. They honored him in turn, and waited while he stumbled and stuttered some moments before saying (with another bow), "Ladies, permit me to invite you, er, both of you, Miss Delford, Miss Lucas...a-and Mr. Delford and Mrs. Delford, too, Miss Delford...t-to a ball in three days time." This proclamation was immediately followed by a foolish grin of pride and relief, that was unfortunately not mirrored on Else's countenance.
"A ball! What say you, Maria? Shall we accept?"
"Certainly, Else...why should we n...ouch!" Maria cut off as Else pinched her.
"But is our time not occupied then, Maria?"
"I've no idea. I think a ball would be perfectly splendid, Mr. St Giles. Only...."
Both Else and Mr. St Giles looked anxiously at Maria as she struggled with a niggling bit of information, until, "Ah! But Kitty -- Miss Catherine Bennet, my friend, Mr. St Giles -- is to come in that day."
"I w-would be honored if she attended, a-and any one else whom you would like," Mr. St Giles immediately professed. "And may I claim a d-dance with each of you, ladies? And one with your friend, M-miss Lucas?"
Maria readily agreed, and Else too -- although more sullenly -- and with that Mr. St Giles took his polite and hasty leave.
"Insufferable!" else said as soon as he was gone. "Now I shall be forced to stand up with him and he shall propose again before the night is out, I dare say! Maria -- how could you?"
But Maria was not allowed to answer, for Else marched away quickly, leaving Maria to hasten behind in what Lady Catherine de Bourgh would certainly name a very unseemly manner. And now it was Maria's turn to stand outside her friend's room and call apologies until supper. Oh! Kitty Bennet could not come too soon -- what a tempest Bath was turning out to be!
Chapter VIII. Wherein the reader is reacquainted with some old friends.
Kitty Bennet arrived, as promised, on the day of the Ball, and brought with her such joy and wild excitement that the whole Delford household was likewise infected. She well nigh burst from the carriage and to her dearest friend}, hanging embraces around Maria's shoulders and kisses on her cheeks. It was obvious that Kitty's stay at Pemberley had much improved her, for she was well dressed, and had cut ringlets to frame her face. Her introduction to the Delfords was politely exact - and much rehearsed, if her assertions about Mr. Darcy's tutelage were credible.
Maria was surprised to see the change in Mr. Delford's demeanor as he first beheld Kitty - for although his eyes remained as large and limpid as ever, yet they softened from weariness to wonder; and although his humor remained sardonic, yet his words were in conflict with his heart. Almost, Maria fancied, Mr. Delford stood a bit taller as he gallantly bowed over Kitty's hand and conducted the whole party to the house.
Mr Bingley had arrived with Kitty and would depart on the morrow for the south. He was as ever - he was glad to see Maria well and in good health, he was pleased to make Mr. Delford's acquaintance, he thought Bath was a fine town indeed, a jolly fine town, he readily accepted the invitation to the ball that evening, he was full of news from Bonham and Pemberley, he could not speak enough of Jane.
But perhaps the greatest surprise was the addition to their party of one who also had business in the West Country - Colonel Fitzwilliam himself.
And as handsome and gentlemanlike as Maria had remembered....
...But was there an air of sorrow about him? Was that a distance in his eyes? Was there a dejectedness in his stance?
She could not tell.
For as soon as he had descended from the carriage (having waited some moments for Kitty and Bingley to be introduced), Maria became stiff with fright. Her whole body was atwitter - she suddenly realized her own youth and foolishness. The Colonel greeted her warmly, and Maria peeped in kind, unable to follow them into the house until Kitty came beside her and guided her in.
How could she have been so foolish to have ever thought herself a worthy match to the Colonel? She could not even answer him in company! And the memory of his brother's voice echoed in Col. Fitzwilliam's few remarks. Lord Wendell's features were reflected in the occasional turn of phrase, or tilt of the head. Maria felt sure that the Colonel must know of his brother's attentions - and must think little of her because of them.
Oh! And how Kitty laughed so comfortably, surrounded by so many good friends and new acquaintances. How conversation was ready with quips and quibbles while Maria found herself mute. The shame of inequity was too much - could no longer be borne. Every moment, she felt the color rising in her fair cheeks as she looked at the Colonel, tried not to look at him, found her gaze wandering to him again, caught his eye, shied when he smiled distractedly, looked away, looked back once more.
Had she been in a better state of mind, Maria might have seen how Mr. Delford was undergoing a similar trial - for his eyes were steadily fixed on the gay figure of Miss Catherine Bennet - and it was only with great difficulty that he could glance at any other person in the room.
Else, finding herself in the unusual position of being secondary to any gathering, saw both Maria and her brother's discomposure, and immediately sidled over to Maria.
"I notice you look at one gentleman, Maria. Do you know each other well?"
Maria, still dumb, could only shake her head.
Else "aaahed," examining Col. Fitzwilliam more closely, enjoying the cut of his uniform, the manner of his discourse - all the bits and particulars that make up the body but not the soul. He could not be wealthy, and his title was but small - yet there was something that Miss Else Delford liked very much about this Col. Fitzwilliam - something that was lacking in the Mr. St Giles and Mr. Ladislaws of her circle.
"Come take a turn with me, Maria," Else whispered. "You shall faint momentarily if you do not."
So Maria allowed her friend to pull her about the small room, parading - so Maria thought - far too close to the Colonel. Lady Catherine would be shocked. Mr. Collins would blind his eyes. Yet Else was determined, and eventually stopped before the Colonel who had begun watching them - thinking, although neither of them knew it, of how fortunate his brother had been at Rosings - and saying, "Why Colonel, how you do stare!"
Both Col. Fitzwilliam and Maria blushed and looked away at that, but Else continued, "Can two women not walk about in the parlor but that every young, handsome man looks after them?"
Col Fitzwilliam muttered an apology and was about to get up and join the group at the other end of the room when Else laughed - the high, tinkling laugh that she reserved for the hunt - and said to him, "No, indeed, Colonel. I take no offense. But you must recompense us! - you must make amends, Colonel!" She laughed again and broke from Maria's arm to pace across the width of the room, tapping her round chin thoughtfully. Else walked very well, and the upward turn of her countenance only accentuated her natural beauties. Maria was left in the middle of the room, with nothing to do but bite her lip and stare at the floor. In time Else finished pondering, and spun quickly, the hem of her skirt flaring a little, and said, "Yes - you must promise us both a dance, Colonel! And then we shall see how well you walk!"
"I should be honored to stand up with both you ladies," Col. Fitzwilliam admitted.
Else laughed again and Maria felt the blush creep back to her ears and down her neck, but could not help smiling a little, too. Miss Delford quickly pranced to the other end of the room to announce her victory and claim a dance from Mr. Bingley and her brother - who, surprisingly, showed no reluctance to either attend or participate in that evening's festivities. And no few minutes after that, our host quietly asked if Miss Bennet would consider saving a dance for him.
Despite the clamor in the room, Col. Fitzwilliam's thoughts were turned not so much towards that evening as to the information he had received some two weeks previous when he had received news from his brother, Lord Wendell.
I am engaged,the letter had read,
to Miss Maria Lucas, whom you will no doubt remember. I anticipate your congratulations and duly thank you. You may soon receive the attentions of our cousin since our Aunt has remained unaltered - I advise you to take Anne as your wife. With your income you may do no better.Yours, &tc.,
Gregory Fitzwilliam, Earl Wendell
Maria, of course, had no idea of the Colonel's erroneous beliefs, or of her new friend's duplicity - was barely aware of Mr. Delford's behaviour - was barely aware of the chatter that surrounded her. All she could imagine was a few hours hence when Col. Fitzwilliam claimed his dance!
Kitty called out to her and she looked up, only to see the Colonel whose own gaze had remained fixed on her in his disturbed reverie. Curtsying hastily, she fled - the blush sweeping to her toes.
Chapter IX. The many delights and conundrums attendant at a ball.
The Upper Rooms were already crowded by the time the Delford party arrived. Despite the throng, however, Mr St Giles was quick to meet them with a smile and a stutter and a look of complete devotion. The guests were duly introduced and soon after whirled into the laughing melee of dancers and idlers, politicians and philanthropists - husbands and husband-catchers.
Such was the movement that Maria was obliged to duck and shy from wide-flung arms and drooping turbans as their party moved to another part of the room. So turning her whole body to squeeze through two groups, she paid no heed to the elbow that barred her escape, until someone took hold of her from behind, and pushed their way through. Maria looked up to see who continued to guide and shield her from further mishaps, and gulped to find that the man who dared to touch her was Col Fitzwilliam.
The remainder of the Delford party had achieved their destination some few minutes before Maria and the Colonel, and watched their arrival with varying looks of bemusement and indignation.
"Colonel Fitzwilliam," Else said quickly, "Kitty is to dance with Mr Bingley and I am left all alone, unless you keep your promise!"
"Certainly, Miss Delford," Fitzwilliam said, bowing and leading Else to the floor.
"And thus flies my sister, despite the honour due to our host," Mr Delford said, as soon as the others had gone, indicating Mr St Giles who stood without partner at the edge of the dance.
Pity welled up in Maria, and she asked, "Do you think?"
Mr Delford nodded.
So Maria fought and pushed her way back through the crowd until she came to Mr St Giles' side - nearly tumbling into him as she fell from the throng. "Mr St Giles!" she cried, straightening herself and pushing back her curls.
He turned to her and smiled, bowing. "M-miss Lucas."
Maria curtsied in kind, saying, for lack of anything more witty, "'Tis a lovely dance, Mr St Giles."
"Do...d'you think so?"
"Oh, yes! Certainly!"
Some few moments passed while Maria studied her fan and Mr St Giles surveyed the room. It was not long before both of their views inevitably turned to the couple of Miss Delford and Col Fitzwilliam, and a similar hopeless look overtook their features as the steps of the dance took that couple perilously close, and then separated them to the extremity. Sighing in concord, Maria and Mr St Giles returned to their former occupations of determined indifference.
"Do you not dance, Mr St Giles?" Maria asked after a time.
"I d-do, Miss Lucas."
"Ah."
Again silence overcame them, but briefly, as they turned to one another and said, "Would you...?" and laughed.
"Would you d-do me the honour of dance...dancing, Miss Lucas?"
Maria consented and the remainder of that set was spent in restless waiting, until a new tune began and Mr St Giles led Maria to the front. Thereafter, Maria's fan was filled for every dance. Mr St Giles had not finished his profound bow before Mr Ladislaw claimed two rounds wherein he laughed and twirled and behaved as gallantly as any lady could wish. The next was given over to Sir Nevil whose conversation - filled, as it was, with social inquiries and presumptions (given her own patrimony) - left much to be desired. Then a glorious respite with Mr Bingley, followed thereafter by the final dance (before refreshments) with Mr Delford - whose cheeks were flushed and demeanor cheerful, since he had just danced the last two sets with Kitty.
Laughter pervaded the dining hall - Else's laughter. She had quit the floor early to claim the seat close to the buffet where the young gentlemen would inevitably gather. And sure enough, every eligible man surrounded her - laughing and dining and offering Miss Delford sweets and wine. Seeing Maria, she called her over, and our heroine obliged.
"Maria - my darling friend - you must convince Mr Ellis that he must not even consider departing for the Continent before the Season is out! Mr Ellis, I am most disappointed in you! However shall I bear the loss? To think of you in the clutches of the French - why, it's abominable!"
"I assure you, Miss Delford, they no longer usher aristocrats to Madame la Guillotine."
"Oh, do they not? Yet la Madame pierces the hearts of we forlorn English women who are bereft of all the young men. You - none of you - could think of deserting us!"
A round of hearty 'nevers!' followed. Mr Ellis chuckled and conceded, "I am convicted. I shall delay my departure."
Else laughed and clapped her hands together in glee. Maria by this time had found her way to Else's side - but since no seat was available, stood attendant behind Else's chair. From here, she could well view the room, and saw Mr Delford talking quietly to Kitty, while Mr Bingley conversed with the sportsmen. The Colonel was nowhere to be seen.
"...But I am not the only lady who must suffer, Mr Ladislaw," Else was saying, "for your gentlemen's infidelity and indecision. You must not only think of me. Why, Maria is thrice as handsome as I - and see what a sorry lack of gallants has Bath provided her! Yet...Mr St Giles, did I not see you dance with our dear Miss Lucas?" Mr St Giles acknowledged this with a stutter and a bow. "And you, Mr Ladislaw...I quite think you are taken with my friend?" Mr Ladislaw declared that he was besmitten. "Then Mr St Giles, Mr Ladislaw, may I advise you not to restrain your regard? You must declare your undying love - and I shall be judge and you, gentlemen, shall be jury. We shall bring France to Mr Ellis this very moment - we shall resurrect the Court of Love - and what Lancelots may we find, then? What Guiniveres! What say you, gentlemen?"
All agreed, and Maria made no complaint for the Colonel had arrived at that moment and was even now making his way to her. He stopped as he saw Mr Ladislaw grin and kneel before Maria - and his face seemed to harden. Maria did not hear her suitor's eloquent plea - although several times a ribald laugh burst forth from the assembled. The Colonel - yes, he seemed very angry. He looked so like Lord Wendell at Rosings...at that disastrous walk in the Park. But wherefore? What offense did the ball offer?
Now Mr Ladislaw was standing, and Mr St Giles struggling to his knee. Our host's profession was by far more awkward and the accompanying laughter forced or snide. Maria bit her lip and endured as best as possible while Mr St Giles looked every other second to Else for her approval. The debacle finally ended and the jury favoured Ladislaw ten to one - but Miss Delford objected, saying, "Did none of you see Miss Lucas' attentiveness to Mr St Giles? And her disinterest in Mr Ladislaw? A sorry jury you are indeed when you count the man's actions more greatly than a woman's receipt! How cruel, gentlemen, for shame!"
Maria jumped at those words, so familiar to her, and the image of Lord Wendell again rose before her. Oh! This charade was unbearable! Yet, she never would have suffered it had she accepted Lord Wendell. Maria despaired. Even the Colonel must fall to Else's charms over her own. For certainly, he had not even claimed his dance that evening, and there was but an hour left in the ball.
"Miss Lucas? What say you?" Maria jumped again and turned to Else, who repeated her question, "Whom do you prefer, Maria? Mr Ladislaw or Mr St Giles?"
"I like them both, well enough," Maria said.
"But who shall court you? Which man has won your heart?"
Maria faltered - as Sir Nevil was heard to say, "It shall come to pistols at dawn, I shouldn't wonder! And I shall report be forced to report it to His Majesty, when next I am in Town."
"Perhaps Miss Lucas requires greater proof of the Messieurs regard before she bestows her own," Mr Ellis said.
"Perhaps Miss Lucas is engaged elsewhere," said Col Fitzwilliam, drawing very close and staring intently at Maria.
"But not at present!" Maria declared.
The Colonel was very quiet before saying, with a parting bow, "I had not thought you capable of such a response, Miss Lucas."
The night dwindled from that moment on. Maria danced with more gentlemen who teazed her about the Court of Love, and was horrified to learn that no few gentlemen were of the opinion that she would be receiving several offers soon.
Colonel Fitzwilliam lurked about the edges of the chamber, and not even Else Delford's charms could lure him again to the dance floor. A few times he walked close to where Maria was dancing, as though he would speak with her, but another suitor for the next dance always quickly called upon her.
And when eleven o'clock came, and the party trickled their way out the door, calling greetings and promises to one another - Maria shuddered to see such a black look upon the Colonel's face - such a resemblance to his elder brother - that she could not meet his glance upon arriving at the house - and hurried quickly up the stair like one admitted guilty to the crime of infidelity.
************
Continued in Part 2
© 2000 Copyright held by author