An End to Estrangement - A Pride and Prejudice Variation

Part 2

A/N - thank you so much for reading and following! I hope you're staying safe and well in these strange times. Here's for a fun regency retreat - and more stories to come.

Much love xx

"What a charming place!" Charles Bingley exclaimed, as the carriage that conveyed him, his sister Caroline, Mr and Mrs Hurst, and Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy, lurched to a halt outside a rundown looking building that must be, Darcy supposed, the famed Meryton assembly rooms. Famed might be a misnomer, for he had scarcely heard mention of them before coming to Hertfordshire. Indeed had he heard mention of the town Meryton he might have struggled to place it. But since his arrival, Charles had been at great pains to make him like it, and so had proceeded to explain in great detail various pieces of interest about Meryton and its environs, pronouncing each one charming as if applying the word liberally made it so and would endear his friend to the town that had evidently already captured his heart.

"Quite charming!" Charles repeated, apparently unfazed that none of his companions had voiced an opinion.

Darcy heard a low murmur of contention passed between Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley, and he was not quick enough to shift his gaze before Caroline's eyes met his, one delicate eyebrow lifting in silent enquiry. Darcy strove to keep his expression neutral, thinking it would be ill-mannered indeed to side with Bingley's sister against him, despite the acknowledgement that in this instance, at least, it was with Miss Bingley and not her brother that his opinions aligned.

Charles Bingley was not a difficult man to please, which was one facet of his character that rendered him so agreeable to Darcy. Darcy, himself, was rather too firmly wedded to his own opinions to be so easily won.

That is not without cause! he thought, the corners of his lips turning down in a habitual grimace. He had lived through enough trial and tragedy in his young life that he could not so easily manage to always see the bright side of every situation as his infallibly optimistic friend.

"Well, I suppose we must go in," Mr Hurst remarked, shuffling heavily towards the carriage door. "Unless you would prefer to spend the evening cooped up out here?"

Caroline Bingley did not disguise her disdain, barely concealing a sigh as she followed her sister and brother-in-law out of the carriage. Darcy kept his own gaze averted, feeling a prickle of suspicion that this display from Caroline was, at least in part, directed at him.

"Well, Darcy!" Charles declared, punching him lightly on the arm. "Let us put off the dreaded moment no longer!" He spoke cheerfully, his blue eyes sparkling with fun. His expression grew merrier when he saw the look of horror that crept onto Darcy's face. "Oh, do not look so glum! Anyone would think you did not care to dance!" He roared with laughter that almost made him stumble as he dismounted from the carriage.

Darcy swallowed a groan. Charles might be his closest friend, might know him better than most other men alive, but that did not always work in his favour. No, Darcy did not care to dance. He did not care to be among strangers, launched into a society he was only part of at his friend's behest, and because he could find no suitable reason for avoiding it.

"I dare say they cannot all be dreadful dancers," Caroline remarked, her voice pitched a little too loudly to go entirely unnoticed as the small party made their way up the steps towards the assembly hall's entrance.

Darcy glanced around, hoping that their neighbours did not hear her. He might share her opinion but he certainly would not voice it within earshot of those it pertained to. To his relief, the straggling arrivals who accompanied them across the threshold appeared to be rather more occupied in whispering about the newly arrived guests, than they were of hearing themselves belittled by those same guests.

"I wonder if I shall see Mr Bennet again," Charles mused, as the party were swept with the crowd into the main room. He was seemingly oblivious of the silence that fell over the massed dancers as the strangers entered, although Caroline was quick to preen in the face of such undiluted attention.

Darcy froze at the name on his friend's lips. Bennet? It could not be the same, surely! No, he told himself, willing his feet to move once more. Hertfordshire was a big place, and Bennet a common name. She cannot be here.