by Lory Lilian
She blushed but daringly held his gaze. “There are no two people who could have less in common. From my current perspective, qualities that seemed alike could not have been more different.”
“”You are too generous, Miss Bennet. In both situations, you surely had sufficient reason to laugh at human folly.”
“I deserve no credit, sir. And please believe me: laughter was the last thing on my mind at the time—and for a long while afterwards.”
The light conversation became solemn, and their mutual torment was apparent. For a few moments, they watched each other in silence until she finally responded.
“However, on better analysis, you and Mr. Collins do have something in common: Lady Catherine’s protection and interest in your well-being.”
He chuckled. “True. But please believe me that Lady Catherine is not unkind. She simply cannot admit that any of her plans have flaws and cannot imagine that an opinion opposite to hers could ever be true or correct.”
“I noticed that, and anything I did not notice, she informed me herself.”
“I can well imagine. I am very sorry, Miss Bennet. I deeply apologise if my aunt offended you…”
“Do not worry, sir. All is in the past now. I understand that she desires what she thinks is best for you…and for her daughter…”
“As I said, my aunt usually demands what she believes to be best. She is astounded whenever she fails in her endeavour.”
“I am sure she expected more success when she visited me.” Elizabeth tried to sound less distressed than she felt.
“I am delighted that she failed. Her success would have been a painful disappointment for me,” he admitted. “I knew that, if you had something to say against me, you would have shown no restraint.”
“Oh, I am not sure that is a compliment.” She laughed nervously. “Is my impertinence so well known that it has become common knowledge? However, those times when I inconsiderately spoke against you are long gone, sir. You must know that… “
Another long moment of silence and meaningful looks followed. From such an intimate distance, no feelings could remain concealed.
He rubbed his hands together in apparent nervousness then spoke hesitantly.
“Miss Bennet, there is something of great urgency and importance that I must say to you…for me, I mean. Hopefully, tomorrow, if you approve of my calling on you after the ball…”
She almost dropped her cup, so she clenched her fingers more tightly around it. The time had come. She felt it with every fibre of her being. She watched him with her heart melting in tenderness.
Such a powerful man—self-confident, often judgemental and disdainful—was not able to express himself properly; his words were as shy as his gaze, and distress was evident on his face and in every gesture. What a difference from last April when his plea was more a demand and his professions of love combined with the most severe criticism of her family and situation.
“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” he had said then, but she could not feel his affection. Now, he did not even need words, and she was all sensation and delightful torment.
“If there is such a great urgency, perhaps it should not wait until tomorrow,” she whispered. He was now leaning towards her and was only inches away.
“It must…there is something to be discussed calmly, in peace and solitude...not in haste or worry that someone might happen upon us and interrupt out conversation…”
“You are too cruel, sir.” She smiled with all the warmth she felt in her soul. “You cannot expect me to be at peace until tomorrow…”
“I Hope you will. Besides, what I have to say cannot be a surprise to you…”
“And yet, you wish to wait…”
“I do. I already failed once. I must be sure to do everything perfectly now.” He smiled and gently took the cup from her hand, placing it on the table. His fingers brushed along hers and lingered briefly.
“You must not worry, sir. Even if it is not perfect, you cannot possibly doubt your success…”
“I confess I do not—and I hope this time I am not wrong—but still, I want it to be perfect.”
“As you wish, Mr. Darcy. I have little choice but to wait. That is a woman’s sad fate,” she joked to dissipate the uneasiness.
He took her hands, carefully looking at her for a sign of opposition, and pressed his lips to the back of each—as brief and gentle as the beat of a heart—then withdrew and rose from the chair.
“As happy as I am at this moment, one of us should leave now. If someone enters, it might be considered a compromising situation for you, Miss Bennet.”
Before her brain had time to think, her lips responded. “And could that bring any harm now, sir?” She blushed with embarrassment and averted her eyes.
He sat again and answered with a low, hoarse voice. “Yes…I cannot allow anything to happen because you were forced into it; I cannot permit any outside influence to stain your decision or burden the future. As I said, it must be perfect.”
She shivered, and chills ran down her spine, but she dared not ask for more tea. She only nodded, rose on unsteady feet, and responded, “I shall return to my chamber now. Jane must be awake.”
“I shall see you later, Miss Bennet,” he answered ceremoniously, bowing to her.
***
Elizabeth’s spirit was so high that she wondered how she could bear so much happiness. Though he did not finish his profession, everything that was needed had been said. No more doubts or distress—only joy—and she hoped and prayed for the day to pass as quickly as possible.
She knew her patience would be rewarded, as she would have the chance to dance the first set with him—and perhaps another—carrying a secret unknown to anyone else. They could even afford to break with propriety a little—only a little—perhaps staying together during supper. And speaking privately…people will wonder, suspect, and gossip…but by the next day, everything would be clear. She needed to wait only a day and a night—a night of light, music, dance—a night without sleep but not sleepless. The two of them and their shared feelings, alone in a room full of people.
During breakfast, Adam Godwin was constantly by her side, just as Miss Godwin and the Miss Kendals still tried to involve Darcy in conversation. Surprisingly to them, he was more open, livelier, and talkative than the day before. They seemed to rejoice in their success, each hoping it was to her merit.
Free of restraint and worry, Elizabeth enjoyed her time, found delight in the food and conversation, laughed more, and ignored the Bingley sisters’ rudeness and attempts to spoil her disposition.
In the afternoon, the entire party retired to rest and prepare for the ball.
Elizabeth was tempted to confess to Jane the partial agreement she had reached with Darcy, but she resisted the temptation. Jane was already nervous, concerned about her new position, others’ judgement of her, and their guests’ opinion of the ball, and she counted on her sister’s support and strength. Despite a heart filled with joy, Elizabeth understood that the evening was for her sister. Any disturbance would do no good. She would wait one more day—until tomorrow.
The sisters had little patience for rest. They began their preparations early and were ready an hour before the ball was to begin, joining Mr. Bingley downstairs.
Elizabeth was certain Jane had never been more beautiful, and Mr. Bingley—proud, enchanted, grateful—was in complete agreement. For her, the only confirmation she needed was Darcy’s wonderstruck expression the moment he laid eyes on her.
It had been a year since the previous ball at Netherfield—a year since their first dance together and their intense argument. A year since Jane’s suffering began. A year since hate and anger were Elizabeth’s strongest feelings for Darcy. It was the end of a tormenting period in their lives—a
nd the beginning of a blissful one.
The entire ground floor, all its doors open, had been turned into an impressive, elegant ballroom. The musicians were tuning their instruments as servants made the final arrangements.
Outside it still rained slightly, and the snow of the previous night was melting. The sky was grey and cloudy, but inside, all was bright, warm, and joyful
In the large hall were gathered Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, the colonel, Elizabeth, Jane, Miss Bingley, and Mrs. Hurst—the latter two acting like the hosts and the mistresses of the house. Jane, on the arm of her betrothed, seemed content with her position for the time being, making no attempt to impose on her future sisters-in-law. Elizabeth, being so close to Darcy, gave little notice to the sisters’ arrogance.
“I believe your family has arrived,” Mr. Bingley told Jane. Indeed, two carriages—one belonging to the Bennets and the other the Gardiners’—stopped in front of the main entrance. They were the first, but Elizabeth knew it was only natural. Patience had never been her mother’s strongest trait.
The Bennets and Gardiners entered, greeted warmly by Jane and Bingley and somewhat coldly by his sisters. Behind them, Elizabeth expected to see Kitty and Mary; instead, she heard a familiar voice screaming her excitement—and she frowned.
“Lizzy, Jane! Come; let me kiss you!” Lydia cried carelessly, hurrying to embrace them. “What do you say to this surprise? We arrived last night; everybody was shocked to see us at Longbourn! What a laugh we had! What a lovely room you have here! I cannot wait to dance!” From the doorway, Wickham’s usual smile added to Elizabeth’s bewilderment. Surely, this cannot be true!
Jane and Bingley stood shocked in the middle of the room. Darcy and the colonel were pale, both their faces twisted into a furious grimace.
“Jane, what do you say to this surprise? As soon as Kitty wrote to me about the ball, I did not give George a moment of peace. I begged and begged him to come! He asked to be excused from the regiment for a couple of weeks! We did not have money to travel, but we borrowed from Mr. Spencer, our friend. I brought this ball gown—it is lovely enough, is it not? Lizzy, you look lovely too. I hope to dance every set, even though I am a married woman now! Are you glad I came?”
“Lydia, this is the greatest surprise indeed,” Elizabeth answered, greeting Wickham with only a nod of her head. “Although, it would have been better if you sent us an express. I am glad to see you safe.”
“Indeed, both you and Jane look lovely,” Mrs. Bennet declared. “Your staying at Netherfield suited you very well. I hope you will admit that I was right again.” The Gardiners and Mr. Bennet made obvious efforts to hide their embarrassment.
Mr. Bingley did his best to keep his composure while Caroline and Louisa openly showed their disapproval at such an appearance. A couple who married under peculiar and controversial circumstances was not a welcome addition to such an important event.
Reluctant embraces were exchanged with Lydia and cold greetings with Wickham. Elizabeth felt suffocated by her fury. She could not believe Wickham had the audacity to appear there, knowing Darcy and the colonel would attend.
Careful not to make a scene and worried about Darcy’s growing torment and the colonel’s poorly concealed ire, Elizabeth took her father’s arm.
“Papa, may I have a word with you? Privately, if possible?”
“Yes, of course, my child.”
“Charles, could we use the library?” she asked the master of the house, who readily agreed.
“Lizzy, may I join you?” Mr. Gardiner inquired, and after a brief hesitation, Elizabeth nodded in agreement. From the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw Darcy look at her and then move towards the window. The state of his torment was impossible to miss.
At that time, the Kendal sisters, the Wilsons, and the Godwins joined the others. Outside, the Lucases’ carriage stopped at the main entrance.
“Papa, what should we do?” Elizabeth asked the moment she closed the library door.
“What do you mean, Lizzy dear? I imagine you are talking about Lydia, but what can we do? She just appeared yesterday afternoon to our complete shock.”
“But, Papa, this might ruin the entire evening—for all of us!” She felt her eyes burning with tears of anger and helplessness.
“My dear, I know you are embarrassed, and considering her elopement, she is placing all of you—especially Jane—in a most delicate position. I understand you are ashamed of her. But she is still your sister, as silly and ill mannered as she might be. How can I throw her out? Your mother would never accept that.”
“Dear Father, you must know I love Lydia and would never ask you to throw her out! As improper as her appearance might be, I am not worried about her but her shameless husband! How dare he come here, defying Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, who both know his complete unworthiness and lack of character? Does he intend to ruin the ball and expose all of us to even more shame and censure? Such a horrible man should be thrown out of the house!”
“Lizzy darling, let us calm ourselves.” Mr. Gardiner attempted to relieve her disquiet.
“Uncle, you know better than anyone what I am speaking of…”
“I do know, dearest. I shall talk to Mr. Darcy. I am sure things will not go as badly as you fear. If they do, I shall be the one to throw Wickham out, I promise you.”
“Had I more information about the relationship between Mr. Darcy and Wickham, perhaps I could have avoided the present unpleasant circumstances,” Mr. Bennet replied.
“Papa, Mr. Wickham’s presence is unpleasant to us all. But sadly, there is little we can do now,” Elizabeth said. “Come, let us return to the others and try to keep the damage under control.”
She knew she had been unfair to put the responsibility on her father’s shoulders, but she could not avoid the fear that something would occur to ruin the evening for everyone.
Her joy and eagerness for the ball vanished, and a restless ire enveloped her. The moment they returned to the main hall, Mr. Bingley approached Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner, asking for permission to introduce them to his friends.
Elizabeth glanced around. The Lucas family and the Collinses had arrived, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Philips and five other families from Meryton. Lydia was with Maria Lucas, Kitty, and Mary; Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst had their heads together, looking rather displeased. The colonel provided company to Miss Godwin, the Miss Kendals, and the Wilson brothers. Jane and Mr. Bingley mingled among the guests, arm in arm, greeting everyone warmly.
She looked for Darcy; he was still by the window in a corner far from everyone else. She froze as she noticed Wickham next to him, speaking privately. She put all caution aside and moved towards them.
“Mr. Wickham, Mr. Darcy. What a surprise to see you speaking together. I hope I do not intrude.”
“Miss Bennet…I believe we are finished,” Darcy said sharply.
“My dear sister, how lovely to see you again. You look astonishingly beautiful,” Wickham declared. “I was talking to Darcy, who looked very displeased by my presence here. My wife wished to attend the ball, and I did everything in my power to fulfil her desire. I did not expect such strong opposition.”
“I believe Mr. Darcy was surprised—as we all were—that you could neglect your duties and travel such a long distance for a ball. It is, however, commendable that you seek to please your wife.”
“Yes, well…Colonel Thomason understood the importance of it and allowed me to come. With so many illustrious families attending, how could I—as the only brother so far—miss it and deprive my wife of such joy? I dare say I feel welcomed by everybody except Darcy. I did not expect such opposition from him. He just asked me to leave—can you imagine? But it is also true that he usually looks displeased. I feel he is still opposed to his friend’s decision to marry someone beneath him.”
Darcy s
tepped towards him, but Elizabeth put a hand on his arm and moved between them.
“Mr. Wickham, let us cease this poor attempt at mirth. And kindly do not take me for a fool, despite the fact that I behaved like one in the past. Of course, you expected no opposition from Mr. Darcy; you expected him to be as kind and generous as he was in the past when he refused to expose you as the dishonourable scoundrel you are.”
Both looked at her in disbelief, but she took one more step towards Wickham and continued angrily.
“As I gave you to understand several weeks ago, I am perfectly aware of all the details of your marriage to my sister as well as of your previous dealings with Mr. Darcy. You have been given more chances than you deserve and many opportunities to prove your worthiness—all in vain. So cease this charade of the honourable husband. If I were in Mr. Darcy’s position, I would have thrown you into debtors’ prison years ago.”
Shock moved Wickham to take a step back against the wall.
Darcy slowly removed Elizabeth’s hand from his arm. “Miss Bennet, we should wisely avoid raising any speculation that might ruin this evening for my friend and your sister. Let us return to the others. We have plenty of time to settle this tomorrow, do you not agree?”
She forced a smile and breathed deeply. “You are right of course, sir. I believe Mr. Bingley is looking for you. I shall only need a few more minutes with my brother-in-law, if you do not mind.”
Darcy bowed and, with a glare at Wickham, moved towards Bingley. She noticed her father and uncle walking in her direction and turned to Wickham one more time.
“Miss Bennet, I assure you this is all a huge misunderstanding,” Wickham mumbled.
“Have you completely lost your mind?” she whispered furiously. “Have you forgotten that my uncle told me everything—that you demanded your debts be paid before marrying Lydia? And that you put all the blame for your shameful elopement on her? That you were offered a commission better than you deserve?”