Mr Darcy's Spring Ball

by Sarah Darcy

  ‘Oh Lydia,’ Elizabeth chastised. ‘You know that’s not true.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with your ball gowns,’ Jane insisted. ‘They are only a few years old.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Kitty huffed. ‘I’ve lost count of the number times Mama has patched them up.’

  ‘Please Papa,’ Lydia put on an innocent smile. ‘Could I have a small amount of lace?’

  ‘No more lace!’ Mr Bennet snatched the lace from her hand and returned it to Elizabeth. ‘Take it back to the shop now.’

  ‘But I’ve only just got home,’ Elizabeth replied.

  ‘Don’t argue with me child.’ He looked over at Jane. ‘You go too.’

  ‘Papa what are you saying?’ Jane asked.

  Mr Bennet banged his fist on the table. ‘No more lace in this house!’

  Chapter 11

  Mr Darcy raced after the pack of hounds in a rage. Would he ever be rid of Wickham? His anger spurred his black stallion closer to the pack. He dug in his heels and rode faster, determined to catch the cunning fox for good.

  He wished he could hunt down Wickham the same way. The man had no shame. He was a constant thorn in his side. He thought back to the Christmas ball, he would never forgive George for spiking the punch bowl with a bottle of rum.

  Fortunately, his quest to get Georgianna drunk failed, only because Elizabeth had alerted him to Wickham’s evil scheme.

  The foxhounds came out of the woods into an open meadow. The cunning fox was no were to be seen. The riders had to temporary suspend the fox hunt as the hounds burrowed around in the bushes for his scent.

  ‘A lucky fox,’ Mr Darcy muttered to himself. ‘He gets a second chance to cause more havoc, just like Wickham.’ He looked over at a carriage, which had followed the hunt down a number of country lanes.

  Georgiana was riding in the carriage with her Aunty, Lady Charlotte Barratt and her daughter, Lady Sarah Barratt. All the women were accomplished riders, but they could not join the hunt on horse back. They were only allowed to view the masculine pursuit of blood sports from a racing carriage. But that was better than not being involved at all.

  Fitzwilliam caught sight of Georgiana through the window. How beautiful and gracious she looked. She laughed behind white gloves as some irate hunters rode around in circles.

  Mr Darcy could not stay mad for long as he waved back to his sister in the carriage. One day she would find an esteemed gentleman that deserved her love and affection – and cunning Wickham will be a distant memory.

  Had the fox outwitted them? More horns and the bark of hounds turned his attentions back to the hunt. The fox had been spotted and was now racing ahead of the pack.

  Chapter 12

  ‘Is that your father shouting?’ Mrs Bennet came into the dinning room and found her daughters assembled around the table. ‘What is all the commotion about?’ She looked at Mr Bennet’s grim expression. ‘I believe everyone in Meryton must have heard your booming voice.’

  ‘I hope they did Mrs Bennet,’ he loudly announced from his chair. ‘As a warning to all fathers not to indulge in your daughters.’

  Mrs Bennet was non the wiser. ‘What are you talking about?’

  He pointed to a bedraggled piece of lace cast aside on the table. ‘Did you give Lizzy permission to buy some lace?’

  Mrs Bennet’s bold expression changed to a coy smile. ‘Only a small amount dear,’ she said gently. ‘I want her to look her best for the spring ball this weekend.’

  ‘For a dance at the Assembly Rooms,’ Mr Bennet snapped. ‘What a waste of money for such a low key event.’

  ‘A low key event?’ Mrs Bennet remarked. ‘It’s a proper ball at a grand residence.’

  Mr Bennet glared at Elizabeth then back to his wife. ‘A proper ball?’ He was quietly alarmed by the mention of such an extravagant event. He spent so much time in his study or at the local tavern, he knew little about their lives.

  At the first sight of tears and tantrums he would retreat to his study. It was the perfect sanctuary for peace and solitude. Now he felt he was being hood-winked by the whole family. ‘Mrs Bennet,’ he asked once more. ‘What ball?’

  ‘Didn’t I tell you dear.’ Mrs Bennet sat down with a vague expression. ‘It’s at Rosings Park.’

  ‘Rosings Park.’ Mr Bennet began to panic. All kinds of thoughts whirled about his mind. Balls meant more capital even on a small scale. Small lace trimmings for one gown became large trimmings for a number of gowns.

  Next on the list would be new gowns; then expenditure for carriage arrangements and extra accessories. All that before he had a chance to consider dowry arrangements for five daughters! Please God, he mused. Let this be a nightmare I wake up from.

  ‘Didn’t you know Papa,’ Jane said with a sweet smile. ‘We’ve all been invited.’

  ‘Five invites!’ Mr Bennet slumped back in his chair again and mentally calculated the extra figures.

  ‘Oh Mr Bennet,’ his wife retorted. ‘Don’t be so dramatic.’

  ‘Dramatic, you can talk,’ Mr Bennet huffed. ‘You have the most lively nerves in the county.’

  ‘Take no notice of him.’ Mrs Bennet turned back to her daughters. ‘He’s in one of his moods.’

  ‘Are you alright Papa?’ Lydia placed a concerned hand on his shoulder. ‘Could I ask for a favour? Could Kitty and I go to Meryton and get some lace too?’

  ‘What!’ Mr Bennet thought his blood would boil. ‘You are so wrapped up in your own little worlds, you have not heard a word that I’ve said.’

  ‘Sorry Papa,’ Lydia said. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘No more balls!’ he shouted making the girls jump. A quiet hush descended on the room. ‘A small dance at the Assembly Rooms is fine, even a ball at Netherfield,’ he pondered. ‘But not a ball at Rosings Park.’

  ‘How can you say that,’ Elizabeth tried to reason with her father. ‘It’s the grandest ball we’ve ever been invited to.’

  ‘Indeed Lizzy.’ Mrs Bennet turned to her husband. ‘Pray, could you reconsider your direction.’

  ‘I repeat, no more balls.’ Mr Bennet glared at his daughters. ‘That’s my final word on the matter.’

  Lydia began to sob with disappointment. ‘I will never speak to you again.’ She rushed out the room in tears.

  ‘Nor I,’ Kitty rushed out after her equally upset.

  ‘I hope you make a habit of it my dears,’ Mr Bennet called out of the room. ‘Peace and quiet is a joyful solitude to behold.’

  Chapter 13

  ‘Papa come back to the library.’ Mary stood at doorway with an open book. ‘I haven’t finished reciting my poems by Keats.’ A rare smile spread across her face. ‘I know how much you love them.’

  ‘Sorry Mary.’ Mr Bennet ran a weary hand over his grey hair. ‘A certain crisis has arisen.’

  ‘Poor Papa.’ Mary looked over her shoulder. ‘I just passed two of my sisters on the verge of hysteria.’

  ‘Lydia and Kitty I believe.’ Mr Bennet stood up from his chair and stretched his legs. ‘The usual drama queens.’

  ‘Is that lace trimmings on the table?’ Mary remarked with a look of disgust. ‘Another expense wasted on meaningless female vanities.’

  ‘Oh keep your fancy words to yourself,’ Mrs Bennet snapped. ‘It is only a small amount of lace.’ She gazed up to her husband who was standing over her. ‘I know your annoyed dear but I was going to mention it today.’

  ‘After they had bought the lace no doubt.’ He turned to Elizabeth. ‘How much Lizzy?’

  ‘Only a small sum.’ She looked back at Jane. ‘It was only intended for Jane and I to use.’

  ‘Listen to me dear.’ Mrs Bennet appealed to her husband. ‘Could you change your mind about the spring ball?’

  ‘Let me think woman.’ Mr Bennet gazed out of the window at the spring flowers in the garden. A painful silence descended on the room as the women waited for his answer.

  Mrs Bennet glanced at Elizabeth and wondered what would become of her. If she
didn’t go to the ball she would never meet Mr Darcy again. Although she disliked his proud and arrogant ways, he would be quite a catch for Elizabeth.

  She looked over at Jane. What would become of her? As the eldest and most beautiful daughter, she had the best chance of marrying well. Mr Bingley seemed to be true in his affections for her, she mused.

  Mrs Bennet stared at her husband with an impatient sigh. What was he thinking? Surely he would not deny Jane her advancement in society. If she secured a betrothal with Mr Bingley, it would help the rest of her sisters meet eligible gentlemen of elevated means too.

  Well four of them, she mused, she wasn’t sure about Mary’s prospects. She watched her quietly waiting by the doorway, still holding her book of poetry.

  Mrs Bennet looked back at her husband. She could not stand the suspense any longer. ‘Mr Bennet, what is your answer?’

  ‘I’ve made my decision.’ He turned around with an impassive face.

  ‘Well.’

  ‘No more balls.. Ever!’

  ‘What never,’ Elizabeth exclaimed. ‘Have you taken leave of your senses?’

  ‘..Until we have the capital to afford such an indulgence,’ he declared in a forthright manner.

  Tears welled up in Jane’s eyes. ‘I cannot believe I will never see Mr Bingley again.’

  ‘Forgive my frank exchange.’ Elizabeth stared at her father. ‘How can you be so cruel?’ She put her arm around Jane and tried to comfort her.

  ‘Yes Jane you cry lots of tears.’ Mrs Bennet glared at her husband. ‘For I wager he won’t change his mind.’

  Mr Bennet felt a pang of guilt, which is just what his wife wanted. He did not want to upset his daughters but he had no choice. As Jane’s sobs got louder he tried to offer some hope in the situation. ‘Girls please, I only said for now.’

  ‘Forgive my insolence Papa.’ Elizabeth took Jane by the hand. ‘But I will never talk to you again.’ They walked out the room with the echo of Jane’s tears in the hallway.

  Mary rolled her eyes at more ‘dramatic hysteria’ and returned to the peace and solitude of the library.

  Tears began to well up in Mrs Bennet’s eyes. ‘Are you pleased with yourself?’

  ‘Humbug!’ Mr Bennet sighed.

  Chapter 14

  ‘Mr Bennet,’ his wife shrieked into her hanky. ‘I cannot believe you will deny Jane a good chance of a marriage.’

  ‘Please,’ Mr Bennet stretched out his hand. ‘No more tears.’

  His wife dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. ‘It’s you that’s causing all the grief.’

  ‘Balls are an expensive indulgence for rich daughters,’ Mr Bennet remarked, his head still full of figures. ‘..Oh why didn’t the good lord grant us one son.’

  ‘Don’t start that again.’ Mrs Bennet was beginning to get impatient. ‘You men have it easy.’ She crumpled her hanky in her hand. ‘All you have to worry about is money.’

  Mr Bennet paused in reflection. ‘Isn’t that enough to be going on with.’

  ‘It’s the women that suffer the pain in life,’ she sniffled. ‘We suffer heartache over a lost love.’ Mr Bennet quietly rolled his eyes. ‘And when we do marry an eligible gentlemen, we have to go through the trials of child birth.’

  ‘Leave it be.’ Mr Bennet demanded.

  ‘No I shall not,’ his wife snapped. ‘If men seen what we go through to have children, they would understand our peculiar vexations about our health.’

  ‘..Men in attendance at childbirth,’ he huffed. ‘That will never happen my dear. It’s bad enough hearing about your nerves.’

  ‘And why do my nerves rule the household,’ she announced.

  ‘Because we have five daughters that are all out,’ Mr Bennet said bluntly. ‘And not one betrothal between them.’

  ‘And it will remain that way until you allow them to go to a ball.’ She turned away and sniffed into her hanky. ‘Until then we will be saddled with five old maids in our old age.’

  Chapter 15

  Mr Darcy raced his black stallion at lightning speed ahead of the pack. He recklessly rode over fallen logs and bushes in his quest to catch the cunning fox. His fast riding had caught the attention of Mr Bingley as he rode alongside Major Holt in the hunt.

  ‘What is wrong with Fitzwilliam,’ Charles called over to the Major. ‘He’s riding like a maniac.’

  ‘He’s had words with an old adversary old boy.’ The Major rode ahead and jumped over a fence quickly followed by Mr Bingley. ‘..By the name of Mr Wickham.’

  ‘George Wickham,’ Charles exclaimed. ‘I thought we seen the back of him last year.’

  ‘He was thrown out of the tavern ape drunk,’ Major Holt recalled. ‘Unfortunately he fell in the path of Mr Darcy.’

  ‘Bad timing.’ Mr Bingley jumped over a log.

  ‘Isn’t that the way.’ The Major reflected as he caught up with him.

  ‘Is George still with the regiment?’ Charles enquired.

  ‘He has one weeks leave I believe.’ The Major shouted over to him as they ducked beneath low lying branches. ‘Once the week is up he’ll find his way back to Leeds.’

  ‘Shame he didn’t go now,’ Charles pondered.

  The foxhounds were thrown into confusion again as the fox evaded capture. They were taken off the scent by the smell of a badger in the woods. The resulting confusion caused Mr Darcy to slow down on his stallion.

  Mr Bingley caught up with him as the hounds were scattered over the meadow. ‘Fitzwilliam.’ He rode his horse over to Mr Darcy. ‘What happened to the fox?’

  ‘Gone for now. He’s a sly fox,’ he muttered as he looked out towards the open field. ‘Just as cunning as Wickham.’

  ‘I believe you seen him in Meryton,’ Mr Bingley said, keeping a tight reign on his horse. ‘Major Holt seen a scuffle outside of the tavern.’

  ‘Wickham is up to his old tricks again.’ Fitzwilliam narrowed his eyes. ‘Womanising, gambling.’

  ‘This will cheer you up,’ Charles quipped. ‘Major Holt said he should be gone next week.’

  ‘I’ll believe that when I see it,’ Fitzwilliam replied.

  ‘It’s true. The regiment have begun preparations to travel overseas again in France.’

  Mr Bingley’s horse began to get restless standing in one place.

  ‘Lets hope he stayed in France this time.’ Fitzwilliam rode forward on his horse.

  ‘I’m sure that is the last you will see of him,’ Charles said as he tried to steady his horse.

  The fox was suddenly seen racing across the landscape. The horses and hounds chased after it deep into the forest.

  ‘Time’s running out for that cunning fox,’ Mr Bingley laughed as they rode after the hunt.

  ‘I wish I could say the same for Wickham,’ Mr Darcy said with a restless sigh.

  ∞∞∞

  Georgiana’s carriage caught up with the hunt in a nearby lane.

  ‘Is that Georgiana?’ Charles waved over to her. ‘It’s a shame women can’t join the hunt, her riding skills are exceptional.’

  ‘They should be,’ Fitzwilliam remarked. ‘Riding side saddle must be a beastly way to ride.’

  ‘But it makes a woman a more elegant rider,’ Charles remarked with his eyes on the pack.

  ‘I wonder if Elizabeth Bennet would ride in a hunt if she could?’ Mr Darcy queried, riding neck to neck with Mr Bingley’s horse.

  ‘I recall Jane talking about an old mare they occasionally ride,’ Charles laughed. ‘They don’t have the capital to own a fine stallion like yours.’

  ‘The Bennet family are not that poor.’ Fitzwilliam jumped over a fallen log. ‘..Her father has a moderate holding of tenant farmers.’

  ‘But she may not like to watch a hunt.’ Mr Bingley began to gather pace. ‘Women are fickle creatures.’

  ‘True.’ Fitzwilliam rode in unison with Charles. ‘They are certainly not knowledgeable in country matters.’

  ‘Why do you speak of her now?’ Mr Bingley asked.


  ‘I seen her in Meryton as the hunt gathered in the square.’ Mr Darcy reined in his horse a little. ‘She was shopping with Jane.’

  Charles paused for a moment. ‘I must suggest a meeting with Jane soon.’

  ‘Your wish has been granted,’ Fitzwilliam quipped. ‘I have invited all the Bennet sisters to a spring ball.’

  ‘At Netherfield again?’

  ‘No a much grander place than that,’ Mr Darcy smirked.

  ‘Rosings Park?’ Mr Bingley exclaimed. ‘But what about..’

  ‘Catherine de Bourgh?’ Mr Darcy stated. ‘She has extended her visit to her cousin in the Scotland Highlands for another month. So I thought as it’s the end of the hunting season why don’t I throw a ball.’

  ‘With Lady Catherine’s permission?’

  ‘I don’t need it I’m her nephew,’ he said proudly. ‘I know she has a loyal staff that live and work here. But they still need someone in residence to keep an eye on matters.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Charles pondered. ‘When did you invite the Bennet sisters?’

  ‘I passed an invitation to Mrs Bennet after the Christmas Ball,’ Mr Darcy said. ‘She assured me that she would pass it onto Mr Bennet.’

  ‘You arranged all this months ago,’ Charles smirked. ‘You’re a dark horse Fitzwilliam.’

  ‘Faint heart never won fair lady,’ Mr Darcy quipped.

  ‘How right you are,’ Mr Bingley replied. As more horns signalled the sight of the fox, he raced ahead of the pack. Mr Darcy wondered if he would ever capture Elizabeth Bennet’s heart as he chased after the fox too.

  Chapter 16

  Mr Bennet spent a very quiet dinner with the family. There was no lively conversation around the table, just sullen looks from his subdued daughters.

  While Mr Bennet enjoyed a hearty meal, the rest of the family ate little. Apart from Mrs Bennet who loudly chomped through each course amidst the awkward silence.

  Mr Bennet could not stand the resentful atmosphere any longer. He told his daughters to retire to their rooms. After the mini stampede that ensued he tried to retire to the library. But the moment he put his foot out of the door, his wife began to wail about the spring ball again.