The next day, Darcy tried to find an excuse for not going to the assembly. But if he did not go, Caroline and Louisa would have a reason to stay behind, and then Darcy would have to play cards with them or listen to Mr. Hurst drone on about how difficult it was to find a shop that stocked brandy and French wines, and if you did, how damn expensive they were. The wars on the Continent were a great inconvenience to Bingley’s brother-in-law.

“Come now, Darcy. It will do you of world a good. I am told there are many local beauties, and they most certainly will be in need of partners.”

The matter was finally settled when Mr. Hurst, who had been sprawled out on the couch, sat up and let out a loud belch.

“If you insist, I shall go, but I warn you, Bingley, I am in no humor to dance.”

“Darcy, I cannot force you to dance, but may I ask that you remove that scowl from your face? We do not want to frighten our neighbors.”

In late morning, Darcy’s manservant arrived at Netherfield Park. Mercer, who had been with Darcy for the past five years, was the most capable and ingenious man he had ever met. Upon hearing the sound of crunching gravel on the main drive to the house, he went to the window and laughed when he saw his servant at the reins of a farm wagon carrying all of his chests.

Darcy was not looking forward to attending the assembly. He was always uncomfortable in these country settings. Even in Lambton, the nearest village to Pemberley, or on the farms of his tenants, where he knew everyone by name, he did not know how to converse with people not of his class, especially if they were of the opposite sex. You could discuss breeding sheep with a farmer, but what did you talk about with the farmer’s daughter? Fortunately, his young sister, Georgiana, had no such difficulties and was able to converse on any number of subjects, including, to his amusement, the need for road improvements between Lambton and Matlock with a local farmer.