P&P Prelude to Pemberley: Darcy at the Meryton Assembley

Welcome to our Pride & Prejudice prequel! P&P: Prelude to Pemberley tells the story of the time leading up to the events of Pride & Prejudice, including what Darcy and Elizabeth were doing and thinking, Georgiana Darcy’s story, the events of Ramsgate, how Mr. Bingley came to lease Netherfield, and much more! Join us on our journey as the Austen Variations authors post the events of 1811 in real time on the date they happened – 214 years in the future.

Darcy at the Meryton Assembly

October 15, 1811

As the Netherfield party made their way to the Meryton Assembly, Darcy wished he had not accepted Bingley’s invitation to visit him at his new estate.

He had spent much of the summer burying himself in Pemberley, working on ledgers and planning for the harvest and the myriad everyday matters that having an estate demanded. He threw himself into anything that would distract him from the burning anger that urged him to find Wickham and challenge him to a duel. At the same time, he built a cocoon around Georgiana to help her heal from the multiple blows she had suffered.

Slowly, with the help of Mrs. Annesley, his sister was on the road to recovery, though she was still painfully shy. Darcy laid most of the blame for this at Lady Catherine’s door. Wickham might have broken Georgiana’s heart, but Lady Catherine had deprived her niece of a future by suggesting she was ruined and unmarriageable.

Darcy wished Georgiana was here with him. He did not like leaving her alone with only Mrs. Annesley as company, but Georgiana had told him clearly she needed more time before she could even think of the possibility.

He had considered staying behind with her, but, really, it was a perfect opportunity for him to leave the whole debacle with Wickham behind him and gain a sense of perspective. He could also use the time to assess if Bingley would be the right person to marry Georgia. He knew his friend’s character well, but he had never considered him in this light before.

As the footman shut the door behind him, Darcy resolved to make the best of this visit. This was his chance to put the past firmly where it belonged: in the past. He really had to stop brooding about Wickham. Nothing here could remind him of Wickham and his heinous deeds. He could discover a new neighborhood, ride across a landscape that did not have the scourge of Wickham’s presence, go hunting, walking and fishing, and help Bingley find his footing. Moreover, he would meet people who would not exchange whisper behind his back about Georgiana’s scandalous behavior at school, and who would not give him unwanted advice about how he should deal with her.

“It is really very tedious to have to be introduced to so many nobodies,” said Miss Bingley, a sneer in her voice, “just because you happen to have leased an estate in the area.”

Miss Bingley had no idea what being a gentleman with an estate entailed. Another good reason for him to be here.

“Unfortunately, he cannot escape the acquaintance, if he is to be accepted in the neighborhood, Miss Bingley,” he replied. “It is part and parcel of being in possession of an estate like Netherfield.”

She turned to her brother. “You should have thought about this more carefully when you leased the place, Charles. You should have looked for a neighborhood with more influential families. That would have suited us much better.”

“It may have suited you, Miss Bingley,” said Darcy, brusquely, “but the chances of being snubbed would have been far greater. It would not have suited your brother.”

Despite going to the best schools, there were social norms that none of the Bingleys quite understood.

But as they entered the main street in Meryton, and saw some of the people making their way to the assembly, Darcy had his own misgivings. The old Tudor inn where the dance was being held was not much larger than the inn at Lambton. He wondered whether Bingley should be attending at all. He himself never went to such dances near his estate. No one expected of him.

Even in London, he rarely accepted invitations to balls. He disliked crowded rooms where people had little else to do but watch the dancers and gossip. It would be far worse here. He would be fuel for gossip, and as a newcomer, he would be the center of attention. Within minutes of his entering, people would pass on details about his fortune, his family name, and his estate. Every parent in the vicinity would be pressuring him to dance with their daughter.

“You will dance the first dance with me, will you not, Mr. Darcy?” said Caroline Bingley with a snide smile. She knew very well that he disliked dancing with strangers. He could hardly say no?

“Of course.”

Panic welled up inside him. He was in no mood to spend a whole evening trying to be civil while holding young ladies and their chaperones at bay. At the best of times, he was uncomfortable around strangers. Now he would have to face a whole room full of them.

“I wonder if my presence is really necessary, Bingley. After all, you are leasing the estate, not me.”

“I have already promised Sir William Lucas you will be here. He is the Master of Ceremonies, and he has the Prince Regent’s ear. If you do not attend, they will say I am not a man of my word. Besides, you are the one who knows how to deal with these country folk. I am new at this. What if I do or say the wrong thing? I am relying on you, my friend, to guide me.”

Considering how amiable Bingley was, it was unlikely he would require Darcy’s assistance. Still, Darcy had agreed to make sure everything went smoothly during Bingley’s first introduction to the world of landed gentry, and he could not back out now.

“I am prepared to help you if needed, but do not expect me to be agreeable to every Tom, Dick and Harry.”

Bingley grinned. “I knew you would not let me down. That is such a relief!”

How could Darcy say no, given Bingley’s cheerful gratitude?

There was no way out. He drew back his shoulders and braced himself for the onslaught.

***

The din struck Darcy as he entered. Inharmonious music. The thudding of dancing feet on wood. Shrill laughter. The slurring voices of men who had imbibed too much.

Then the music stopped.

The silence was worse than the noise. Hundreds of eyes turned in their direction, evaluating, judging, calculating. Eyes like arrows trying to find the chinks in his armor, to determine his weaknesses. This was the usual first line of attack. The second would soon follow. Young faceless debutantes paraded before Darcy, one after the other, with hopeful looks on their faces.

The pattern was all too familiar. Except that here, where no one knew him, it was even more apparent than usual. Each and every debutante would be introduced to him, since he knew nobody. It would be a sore test of his ability to remain civil while fighting off determined warriors in white muslin.

Meanwhile, he was facing a wall of stares. He distracted himself by observing his companions with the corner of his eye. To his left, Bingley was basking in the attention, beaming and looking around for young ladies. To his right, Miss Bingley was preening, her ostrich feathers fluttering, delighting in the superiority of her fashionable attire. She was leaning towards him as if to claim him. Darcy controlled the urge to move away. It was useful, after all, for people to believe he was already accounted for. Meanwhile, Luisa Hurst had the satisfied look of someone who knew she had married well and did not need to compete for gentlemen’s attention. Her arm was hooked around her husband’s, as his small round eyes darted around the corners of the hall, looking for the door that led to the card room.

A rounded gentleman of indeterminate years came in their direction, smiling widely. Darcy concluded immediately that he must be Sir William Lucas.

“Welcome, Mr. Bingley!” said Sir William, jovially, with a bow and a flourish. “I am delighted you have honored us with your company.”

As if his words were a necessary confirmation of Bingley’s identity, the music started up, and people turned away. The din resumed as everyone went back to their former amusements.

Bingley introduced each of them to Sir William. Judging by the gleam in Sir William’s eye as it encountered Darcy’s, he had already looked up Darcy’s heritage on Debrett’s. However, to his relief, Sir William addressed most of his remarks to Bingley. It made sense, Darcy supposed. Bingley was the one moving into the neighborhood, not him.

With the introductions completed, Sir William turned to Darcy and promised to introduce Darcy to Meryton’s finest young ladies.

“One never knows when Cupid’s arrow might strike,” said Sir William, rubbing his hands together.

Darcy restrained himself from responding that his armor had been growing thicker and thicker over the years. The chances of an arrow striking him were non-existent.

An hour later, Darcy had succeeded in making himself invisible. He had done his duty with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst by dancing once with each of them, then retreated to a corner. Several young ladies had been introduced to him, but he did not ask any of them to dance. He could tell by the glances that were thrown his way that word had spread that he was too haughty and proud to be approached.

He smiled inwardly. It had taken him many years to perfect the art of keeping the encroachers away. To be fair, it had easier to do so here than in London, where members of the ton were more insistent. Ordinarily, it might not have been quite as easy to escape notice, but with Bingley drawing attention as well, they were willing to divert their attention. It had taken less time than usual for those present to accept that any attempt to win his favor was doomed to fail. He caught some looks of disdain sent his way, but they only increased his sense of accomplishment.  What did he care if they thought he was disagreeable? He had achieved his objective, which was to keep the fortune hunters away, and that was all that mattered.

Satisfied now that no one would intrude on him, Darcy took up his position in an area of the ballroom away from the candlelight and leaned his shoulder against the wall. He would rather stay in the shadows and be the observer than be the object of observation. His location was slightly elevated, giving him a good view of the room.

There was no sign of Miss Bingley or Mrs. Hurst and her husband. No doubt they were in the card room. Mr. Hurst found dancing a chore, as he did not like to exert himself. The ladies would welcome the card table as and escape from being approached and asked to dance.

Bingley was still in the dance hall, mooning over a young lady with flaxen hair and blue eyes. No surprise there. Bingley had a habit of falling in and out of love at the drop of a hat. As he watched his friend smiling at the young lady, his mind went to his conversation with Georgiana. She had not been thrilled at the possibility of marrying Bingley. Did she have specific objections to Bingley himself, or was it only because she believed she would be obliged to marry him as punishment? He should have probed her further to discover the source of these objections.

In any case, it was a good thing, after all, that Georgiana had refused to come to Netherfield. She could not have attended the ball, since she was too young, but if she witnessed Bingley flirting with this young lady at other social events, it would have discouraged her even further. Was it prudent to encourage a match between Georgiana and his friend, when Bingley was still flitting from one young lady to the other?  Of course, Darcy knew that Bingley would never refuse to marry Georgiana if Darcy suggested it, but was it wise to do so? Was Darcy moving too quickly in his eagerness to protect Georgiana and see her settled as soon as possible? Was he in fact taking advantage of Bingley’s placid nature to secure Georgiana a husband at all costs? It was so hard to determine the right thing to do.

His reflections were interrupted by Bingley himself, who approached him, smiling widely. He was in a merry mood, his face flushed from dancing.

“Darcy!” he exclaimed. “I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.”

Darcy was about to retort that it was Bingley who was being foolish. He was spending too much time with a specific young lady at the expense of others. Such behavior would be noticed, and would already be fueling unwanted speculation.

That conversation could wait, Darcy decided. It was delicate matter, not to be broached in public. Instead, Darcy replied that there was no one in the room he cared to dance with. “You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” he remarked, mildly.

“Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting there, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.”

Darcy cast a quick glance toward the sister. No one was dancing with her, even here in her own neighborhood where she must know everyone.  If he danced with one wallflower, he would be obliged to dance with others.

“She is tolerable,” said Darcy firmly, “but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men.”

Bingley’s face clouded, but he quickly resumed his cheerful disposition. “Suit yourself. I will leave you to stand here alone and be miserable, if that is what you wish.”

At that moment, Darcy’s gaze met that of the young lady he had just snubbed, and her startled expression told him she had overheard his remark. The sense of triumph he had felt at repelling everyone drained away, to be replaced by a vague sense of shame. There was no excuse for such a callous remark, no matter how much Darcy might dislike having debutantes imposed on him. He was a gentleman, after all, and uttering such an unfortunate remark within the hearing of a young lady was beneath him.

Perhaps because he had just been thinking of his sister, he imagined how Georgiana might have felt if someone had said something like this. She would have been humiliated. Lady Catherine came to mind, with her heedless comments. He could only imagine the crushing effect it would have on this young lady. To be disparaged so severely by him!

Honor demanded an apology.

He was about to step forward and express his regrets when, to his astonishment, the young lady turned to her friend, said something, and laughed. Laughed! A moment later, she looked directly at him, and their eyes met again. There was no doubting the sharp sparkle of amusement in hers.

Was she laughing at him?

The very possibility shocked him. No one ever laughed at Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley. His elevated position in society prevented that. People normally flattered and admired him. He looked away quickly and tugged at his cravat, which suddenly felt too tight. Flustered and on unfamiliar ground, he fought to regain his composure.

Yet even now, his eyes were inexplicably drawn back to her.

She was talking in an animated manner to her friend, her face turned away from him. It gave him the opportunity to observe her more closely. His earlier assessment of her beauty had been misguided, he now realized. Far from merely ‘tolerable,’ she was uncommonly pretty, though in a way completely different from the pale beauty of her sister. Her eyes were bright with intelligence. Her lustrous chestnut hair glistened in the candlelight as she moved. He examined her for signs that his behavior had distressed her, but she seemed to have dismissed him already. Her face was open, her gestures free of artifice.

He was prepared to offer an apology, but she did not seem concerned that he had rebuffed her. It was really quite extraordinary. She cared nothing at all for his good opinion.

As she made her way with her fried to another part of the hall, Darcy continued to watch her. She had a fine figure, and she moved with ease and confidence. He was wrong to assume she was a wallflower. Now that he looked more closely, it was clear now that it was a scarcity of young gentleman that prevented her from dancing. She was not the kind of young lady who was easily overlooked. He could not quite put his finger on it, but there was some quality that distinguished her from all the young ladies around her. She stood out in the crowd, a bright glow in a sea of grey, vibrant and compelling.

He did not understand why he was giving her any importance at all, when she had given him none. The novelty of such an experience felt almost like a challenge. He wanted her to notice him.

Perhaps his visit to Netherfield would be more amusing than he would have expected, after all.

Read all the scenes in Prelude to Pemberley here!