Part One--The First Mistake

Posted on Tuesday, 10 August 2004

The young gentleman in the corner was most decidedly not dressed for an assembly.

And if that wasn’t enough, he wasn’t even properly standing, with both feet planted firmly on the ground, back straight, and chin held high like any of the other gentlemen that milled about the Meryton assembly rooms, looking out at the dancers. Rather, he was sitting on the mantel over the great fireplace on one end of the large room, his shockingly bare legs dangling in midair, crossed at the ankles, and his back hunched over as he studied the small notepad he held. The candlelight from the sconces and the chandeliers above shone on his bent head, bathing him in a rich pool of brightness as he scribbled on the foolscap before him. But then, as the band struck up another song, he looked up and scanned the crowd with his eyes, and a warm glow began to spread around him. A slow smile crossed his face, and the air began to shimmer slightly and almost quiver as his wings unfurled behind him. He looked divinely angelic.

Except for the thin white sheet he wore, belted by gold rope, that is -- that was rather scandalous and definitely not something any self-respecting angel would wear. It really was a good thing no one could see him.

After glancing over the crowd once more and then putting the paper and pencil into a small pouch that hung off of his belt, the young man pushed himself off the mantel and floated gracefully to the ground, landing on the floor and tucking his wings tightly behind him. He then began to thread through the crowd, glancing around at the faces of the others in the room, until he reached a small area to one side of the room that was less densely populated than the others. He slipped between two chairs and went to stand beside a large fern, then turned to again look out over the assembly.

His sharp eyes swept the room, finally coming to rest on one of the gentlemen of the party that had arrived only a few minutes before. The young gentleman, dressed in fashionable, though by no means pretentious clothes, was speaking with another gentleman, older and with a jovial attitude and sincere smile. The young man’s friend, a tall gentleman with erect bearing and noble and handsome mien, stood with them, though at the same time seemingly withdrawn from the grouping. The two men in conversation glanced across the room once, resumed their discussion, and then the older gentleman turned to lead the younger across to where an older woman stood with two young and quite beautiful ladies. The third gentleman followed a short distance behind.

By the fern, the young man smiled again and in one smooth and practiced motion reached over his shoulder and pulled out a finely constructed bow of the finest gold and one silver arrow. He fitted the arrow onto the string and then with steady aim, lined up the young gentleman in his sights.

pfffffffffthhhhhwwwwwwap!

Perfect shot, right in the heart! The young man in white smiled and allowed himself a moment of victorious pride and then with rapid movements reached back into his quiver and pulled out another arrow, fitting it as before and then taking aim. This time, he set his target as one of the young ladies to whom the trio of gentlemen were addressing themselves. Drawing back the arrow, he let it fly.

pfffffffffthhhhhwwwwwwap!

Again, it couldn’t have been done better. With a brief nod to himself, he pulled his notebook out of the pouch at his hip where he had stored it earlier and consulted it. Four more names. None of whom were anywhere near each other at the moment. So with a shrug of his nearly bare shoulders, he leaned against the wall and with a snap of his fingers, summoned a glass of champagne. He was prepared to wait for the right moment. All night, if need be.

As it turned out, though, it was only nearing three-quarters of the way through the assembly when the young man finally finished his mission. He returned his notebook to his pouch with a self-satisfied nod and was making as if to slip his bow on his back when his movements were arrested by the sound of a set of voices.

“You know how I detest it unless I am acquainted with my partner,” the gentleman was saying to someone whose face was hidden from view by the fern. It was not difficult, however, to recognize him as the friend of the first victim of the evening--the tall gentleman of noble mien. “At such an assembly as this it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.”

The young man in white stared, the bow hanging slack in his arm, his jaw hanging even slacker. Then suddenly his whole body tightened in rage, and he clenched at his bow. What hubris! How dared he say such things!

“I would not be as fastidious as you are for a kingdom! Upon my honor, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty.”

“You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” continued the arrogant oaf.

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

“Which do you mean?” The tall, proud man turned and looked at a young lady who was sitting in a chair quite near to the place he and his friend were standing. He gazed at her for a moment, then turned his shoulder coldly and said: “She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”

By the end of this pretty speech, the air around the young man by the fern was shimmering dangerously, and his wings fluttered angrily behind him as he glared at the man for saying such things, for thinking himself so far above the rest of the company. It was not he who could think himself a god among mortals, to so far forget himself as to say such things about a perfectly lovely young lady--yes, and in her hearing, too!

A blond gentleman who was returning to his partner with a requested glass of punch moved unwittingly close to that spot near the fern and veered away quickly, instinctively avoiding the aura of rage that hung thickly in the air and nearly spilling the liquid in the glass in his haste to move away.

Completely unaware of the effect his ire was having on those surrounding him, the young man in white reached into his quiver and pulled out another silver arrow. He clutched it tightly in one hand as he looked wildly about the assembly room, his gaze finally coming to rest on the young lady who had been sitting in the chair just moments before. There was his method of revenge, he thought. It would be quite simple to punish that arrogant gentleman for his hubris by using her as the target.

He fit the arrow to the string and raised the bow, training his aim on the tall gentleman who still stood where he had before. He waited, his arm steady even as his wings continued to tremble in thinly repressed fury, until the moment when the gentleman shifted his gaze to where the young lady now stood talking with a friend, and with a satisfied twang, he released the arrow.

With a contemptuous smirk, the young man gazed in malicious pleasure as the arrow found its home. “Cupid, you old dog,” he said to himself with a brief chuckle as he began to dissolve into a golden glow, his mission here complete, “you can be crueler than Mars sometimes.”

And with a final smile, he disappeared into the glow and flew from the room and out into the night.

Part Two--The Second Mistake

It was not all that common for Cupid to return to the scene of his crime; after all, he was infallible when it came to making people fall in love, and there was no reason to check up on the progress. His aim was unerring and his judgment sound. But in this case--oh, yes, in this case he made an exception.

Really it was simply to gloat a bit, to find out how hang-dog the poor gentleman appeared, to see how well he had learned his lesson. It had only been a few weeks, of course, but it was long enough to cause him at least some discomfort.

If the young gentleman had discovered humility, perhaps he could be released. Or at least given the return of his affections. After all, the young gentleman--a Mr. Darcy, Cupid had been quick to discover--was really quite well suited to the beautiful Elizabeth Bennet, the pawn in Cupid’s little game of revenge. The god of love had seen that straight-off, had read their compatibility in their hearts.

At the same time, though, Mr. Darcy wasn’t really deserving of such a wonderfully vivacious and extraordinarily witty young woman. Not when he acted in such a brutish and frankly rude manner in such a public setting. Why, it was one thing to make comments such as those in one’s own home, among friends who shared the same opinions, and quite another to do it within the hearing of the subject! It was a matter of hubris, in Cupid’s opinion, and that had to be corrected before Mr. Darcy was given any chance at being happy in love.

So it was that Cupid flew gracefully into the town of Meryton, landing near the Boar’s Head Inn and startling a horse so much that it reared up and dislodged its rider, much to the amusement and derisive laughter of a number of small urchins playing marbles in front of the inn, who were chased off by the angered and much embarrassed older gentleman.

But Cupid paid no attention to these happenings, instead concentrating on searching out his prey. And there--he spotted his quarry on a large grey dappled horse, riding into the small town beside his friend Mr. Bingley, who was mounted, as well. The two had quite elegant seats, though Mr. Darcy was by far the better horseman, as could be seen by his perfect handling of his mount’s fidgets.

As the two rode forward through the streets, Cupid observed them, trying to read their hearts. It wasn’t until the two men met up with a large party that included their objects of affection, however, that the god was able to get a clear understanding of how well his arrows were working. Mr. Bingley, it appeared, had fallen quite hard for the exquisite eldest Miss Bennet, and she for him. Theirs, Cupid thought with a smug grin, was a foregone conclusion, and they would no doubt tie the knot before many more weeks.

Mr. Darcy, however, seemed to be fighting the attraction. And it was no wonder, as he had to overcome many more arrogant prejudices and much more pride than his more easygoing friend. But even then, he was weak enough to let his feelings appear quite clearly in his eyes as he caught sight of the lovely Miss Elizabeth. He was nearly ready to dismount and join them when something appeared to make him change his mind--Cupid could only see his face pale alarmingly, and then his expression harden and set before he wheeled his horse about and set off again.

But it was really nothing toward, Cupid reflected. If Mr. Darcy wished to fight against the arrow, it was his business. It would only make him more miserable in the long run.

In the meantime, though, the way that that clergyman was fawning over Miss Elizabeth was giving Cupid some cause for concern. That pompous popinjay needed to have the direction of his attention redirected, and fast. Cupid pulled out a silver arrow, and when he was sure that the man’s gaze was resting across the street on a nice, healthy bovine specimen, he pulled the bow taut and let the missile fly.

Oh, shoot. The toad had shifted his eyes at the last moment, and now he was in love with someone else--but who? Cupid chewed thoughtfully on his knuckle, wondering if he oughtn’t to do something about that. But, no, he finally decided. From this angle it had appeared that his gaze had been on Miss Mary Bennet when the arrow hit its target, so most likely it would all work itself out, anyway.

Cupid pulled out his notebook and consulted it. Well, if all else failed, he could come back in a little over a week and check on things. He had a little bit of downtime in which he could fly back up to Hertfordshire.

Nodding to himself, Cupid slipped the notepad back into his pouch and with a shrug and another glance back at the group, which was now breaking up and going its separate ways, he dissolved into a glow of light and flew away.

Part Three--Two Wrongs, Then a Right?

Cupid arrived near the beginning of one of the most atrocious proposals he had ever been privy to. And, being Cupid, he had seen quite a few. Most of them quite hilarious.

But this one, by far, topped the cake.

It was apparently not a question anymore of exactly who Mr. Collins had been looking at when the silver arrow had pricked his heart, for that pitiable young lady was just now staring at the silly man as if he had suddenly sprouted two heads and begun singing and dancing the Hazzimori. And as he rounded the table to take her hand, she backed away from him as though from the plague and with a voice just barely containing its mirth but also brimming with annoyance, she refused him point-blank. And he thought she was being uniformly charming.

The following little speeches by Mr. Collins were each more entertaining than the one before, and by the time Miss Elizabeth Bennet went rushing from the room, followed closely by a yet-declaring-his-love Mr. Collins, Cupid had fallen off a side table and fluttered, doubled over with laughter, onto the carpet. When he finally recovered his composure, he sat up and, pulling out his bow, went about trying to correct the situation.

Which was not, by any means, an easy task. The only woman in the household with whom Cupid could even consider making Collins fall in love (besides Mrs. Bennet, who really deserved it but really was a bit out of the pool of possibilities) had sequestered herself upstairs in her room with a book, so as to avoid any of the proceedings below.

So Cupid sat around, in forced idleness, listening as Mr. Bennet refused to give his consent to the match, and as Mrs. Bennet tried to dissuade Mr. Collins from removing his suit. And through the whole of the episode, Cupid soon discovered what had been happening around Meryton in his absence.

Well! So this was something, certainly, that Mr. Bingley had gone, along with all of the Netherfield party. How the deuce had that happened, when there had been such a strong inclination between the two lovers? Cupid had been so sure, before he had left, that the two would declare themselves soon and a wedding planned within a few months. But this? The young gentleman going away without so much as an indication that he would return? Why, that smacked of plain and simple manipulation. Probably by that arrogant Mr. Darcy and those two snotty sisters of Mr. Bingley.

But there was nothing to do now. So Cupid brought his mind back to the problem at hand just as the solution to that problem walked through the doorway.

So with a quick flick of his wrist, Cupid sent an arrow straight into Collins’s heart as he looked over into Miss Charlotte Lucas’s eyes. And while the attraction wouldn’t be quite as strong--that was always the problem with trying to give a person a second dose when the first had not yet run its course--it would still probably be enough to give a push in that direction.

And that would be enough. The two would no doubt deal well enough together. And it’s not as if Miss Lucas wasn’t looking for a comfortable situation.

So with a shrug, Cupid slipped his bow back onto his back and left Longbourn, flying south to London, where the Season was in full swing and the god of love in high demand.

Part Four--Love at Yet Another Sight

Pemberley really was quite a spectacular estate, Cupid thought as he strolled through the verdant greenery, following some distance behind the Gardiners and Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who were just now being given a tour of the extensive gardens.

He had arrived here just as the small party of three had rode in their rented open landau up the drive to that great residence, and had patiently followed along as they had taken the tour of the house, but now he tapped his bow against his leg with annoyance and looked around anxiously as he wondered what could possibly keeping the man.

He had been so sure that it would work--he had been so sure that his suggestion, whispered into the gentleman’s ear as he slept the night before in his bed at the small inn on the road from London, had taken root, and that it would only be a matter of time before the plan came to fruition. But now it seemed as if the Gardiners were looking to soon be going, within the hour at least, and as yet there was no sign of that dratted fool mortal. Here he was, giving him this second chance, and the man was probably going to bungle it and miss them completely!

Cupid sighed in aggravation, his breath stirring the wisps of hair on Elizabeth Bennet’s neck, as he had accidentally gotten too close behind her. She turned suddenly, her hand going up to her nape, and she gasped loudly.

At first, Cupid had thought she had seen him, for she was staring right at him, her eyes widening in surprise, but when she turned away, her hands clasped in agitation, he realized that she had not been looking at him, but through him at the young gentleman who was even now crossing the lawn towards them from where he had been walking on the path from the stables.

“Miss Bennet!” cried the gentleman in surprise, and the young lady was forced, by civility, to turn back, but her downcast eyes and agitated and embarrassed features showed her disinclination to be addressed. She responded, though, with perfect civility to his enquiries, and introduced him to her companions.

Mr. Darcy spoke with friendly politeness to the Gardiners, and as he did so she looked up at him, her eyes betraying their surprise at the change in his manner since the last time they had met. His gaze, which had been before trained on the two older people to whom he had been speaking, now met hers, and at that very moment, both felt a sharp prick in the region of their heart, which quickly faded into a soft, warm feeling of overwhelming love and joy that spread slowly through their veins.

The words that had been flowing nervously, almost without stop, from Mr. Darcy’s lips, came to a trembling halt, and the moment lengthened, their gazes locked. At last, he seemed to recollect himself and he bowed to each of them in turn and, excusing himself, took his leave.

The Gardiners and Miss Elizabeth then went on their way, as well, following the gardener on the rest of the tour, and Cupid was left all alone where he had stood throughout the whole exchange, a large grin on his face. He glanced over towards the retreating figure of Mr. Darcy, hurrying into the house, and then over towards Miss Bennet, who was following that gentleman’s progress, as well, and with a satisfied chuckle, dusted his hands together. A job well done.

Well, not exactly well done. But at least it was done. For the most part. There still was the matter of a little hubris gone unpunished...

And so, if anyone thought it unusual, later that year, after the marriage of two of society’s quite eligible gentlemen, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley, to two sisters from Hertfordshire, that Miss Bingley should fall in love with her own footman and make quite a fool of herself over him one afternoon in the middle of Hyde park, or that Lady Catherine de Bourgh should suddenly announce her marriage to a fisherman from Kent who was reported to have traffic with the Gentlemen, well, no one really mentioned it. They were too shocked by the somewhat unorthodox behavior of Mrs. Hurst, who had apparently fallen quite unfashionably in love with her husband, who of course took one look at her and grabbed the nearest bottle.

But in the end the members of society merely shrugged and rolled their eyes. The mistakes the god of love makes are odd, indeed...