Thursday’s 300: The Meeting

Here’s a little bit more than 300 words. It might possibly be used in a story in the future. Maybe. 😉


The Meeting

Elizabeth Bennet walked into the ballroom with her eyes wide and her body filled with excitement. She was here, in the home of a gentleman who was an investor in her uncle’s business, with said uncle, a Mr. Edward Gardiner. On his other arm was Elizabeth’s aunt and Edward’s wife, Madeline.

“What do you think, Elizabeth?”

“It is beautiful! I have never seen the like at home.”

“Mr. Morris appreciates the finer things in life. His home reflects that.”

“Indeed, it does. He has very fine taste.”

Uncle Edward chuckled. “He gives his wife the credit, to be truthful. He gave her free rein to decorate as she wished, and this is the result.” He looked around the room to see if he knew anyone. “Ah, there is Mr. Bingley. I knew his father; he was one of my suppliers for many years. He and his wife passed away a few years ago, and his son is a man of leisure. He is expected to purchase an estate and become a landed gentleman very soon. Let us go greet him.”

Seeing both his niece and his wife nod, Edward led the way, soon arriving at the side of his acquaintance.

“Mr. Gardiner! How good to see you again!” A fine-looking, tallish young man with a mop of strawberry blonde curls bowed to Elizabeth’s uncle, who greeted him in turn.

“You, as well, Mr. Bingley! How are your sisters?”

“They are well. They are here somewhere. Louisa married about a year ago, and her husband is with her. Good fellow, name of Hurst.” Mr. Bingley looked at the ladies on either side of his father’s friend. “Who do we have here?”

“I am pleased to introduce you to my wife, Madeline, who is at my right, and my niece, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who is on my left. Elizabeth is visiting with us for a few weeks. She lives with her family in Hertfordshire, at her father’s estate.”

“I am pleased to meet you, Miss Bennet.” Mr. Bingley bowed, then turned to the man standing beside him, who had remained silent but watchful during the previous exchange. “May I present my friend, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, in Derbyshire?”

Mr. Darcy, tall like his friend but dark, with black hair and brown eyes, bowed. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance.” He turned to Elizabeth, who had caught his eye the moment she entered the ballroom, and did something that shocked Mr. Bingley. “Miss Bennet, may I have this dance?”

Elizabeth blushed. She had hoped the handsome gentleman would ask her. “You may.” She tucked her hand in the crook of the elbow he extended to her, and smiled up at him.

The End


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