by Jane Odiwe
Mrs Bennet, who had also been watching, sniffed with contempt. "That young lady with a face like a sour lemon is Eleanor Bradshaw, who is no better than she should be according to Mrs Vernon, whom I had the pleasure of conversing with just now. Apparently, she is in love with Mr Calladine and though he's shown a certain interest in her at the last few assemblies, I don't doubt he'd like to further his interests elsewhere and align his fortunes with Miss Darcy."
"Oh dear, poor girl," said Kitty, "has Miss Bradshaw no fortune?"
"Don't be so silly, girl. Whether she has a fortune or not is beside the point. How on earth can she compete with Miss Darcy's wealth and position in society? I saw Mr Darcy grinning from ear to ear when they danced twice, and I would not put it past him to encourage another, you'll see. Perhaps you'd be better off sticking to your clergyman or some other young man, Kitty. I'm not at all sure you'd get anywhere with Mr Calladine now, however good your teeth."
Kitty fumed. Her mother really was the most exasperating woman that ever lived, she felt. She opened her mouth to retort but decided against relieving her feelings, knowing it would be of little use. It was time to seek refreshment before she said something she knew she might later regret.
∗ ∗ ∗
Georgiana had also gone in search of refreshment. At least that was what she told herself. She longed to bump into Mr Butler. Perhaps if she did, he might ask her to dance, she thought. Entering the room where tables had been set up for the purpose of serving food and drink, she looked around the vast crowd, a sea of people waving and gesticulating, chattering and laughing, and all making so much noise with a constant frenzied movement about the place that she could not see anything clearly. Tom was nowhere to be seen and it was impossible to progress further into the room, so tightly packed were the bodies. Someone stood on her train and she felt the back of her gown pulled, making her stagger backwards and almost falling over in the process.
"Miss Darcy, please forgive me," said a voice in her ear that she instantly recognised, making her cheeks blush. Before she turned round Tom Butler, grave but apologetic, took steps to further arrest her progress into the room and bowed before her.
Georgiana was delighted to see him but could tell immediately that his manner toward her had changed. There was no warmth in his eyes and certainly no hint of a smile to his lips, just a flush about his face as if he were as embarrassed as she. She plucked up the courage to speak. "Please do not worry, Mr Butler, there is no room to move in here. It was an accident; there is no harm done."
His eyes looked everywhere about him and he shifted his feet, as if looking for an excuse to walk away, but there was such a crush that it was impossible for him to go anywhere. Georgiana's mind had gone blank. All their easy friendliness had disappeared and she felt so shy before him.
"How are the plans coming along?" she said eventually, wishing she could have thought of something clever or witty to say.
His returning glance was quite cold, she felt, and the answer he gave made her feel no better. "The plans are finished. I shall send them to Mr Darcy presently, as soon as Christmas is over."
"But could you not bring them yourself?" Georgiana dared to say, speaking up for once and immediately regretting her outburst.
Mr Butler looked at Miss Darcy's face, whose expression, sweet and imploring, could not help but move him. It was evident that she was not asking out of civility. His answer was just as daring. "I will bring them myself if you promise to indulge me in one small matter."
Georgiana hardly heard his next speech. She was too busy drinking in his smile and the soft expression in his eyes, which seemed to tell her more than his words alone.
"Dance with me, Miss Darcy. Please, will you take a turn in the ballroom with me? It is Christmas, after all."
Georgiana felt a glow of happiness, immediately taking Tom's arm and allowing him to lead her away. Being pushed and jostled by the throng who clamoured in the other direction seemed almost pleasurable, especially when Mr Butler was forced to place a guiding hand in the small of her back whilst shielding her from the mob. She delighted in the touch of his fingers and thought she would never be miserable again.
Elizabeth watched Georgiana and Mr Butler from the side of the room and bit her lip involuntarily. Her sister-in-law's performance was of such a marked contrast to the one she had endured with Mr Calladine that she couldn't wonder if she was the only person that observed it. Such wholehearted joy in the application of the dance Elizabeth felt she had rarely seen, but there was more than that. Sparks, unseen sparks of desire flew between them; their attachment for one another was as visible as a candle flame before the touch paper is lit.
Looking around, she was relieved to see her husband deep in conversation with Mr Gardiner. Somehow, she had a feeling he would not be very amused to see Miss Darcy enjoying herself quite so much with another partner and one that she felt he would hardly approve. She had no more time to reflect on either, however, for Mr Bingley suddenly appeared at her elbow.
"I've just remembered who played Viola," he said with a certain sense of triumph. "I cannot think how I could have forgotten because she was rather good, a very talented actress. Can you guess, Mrs Darcy, from all of Pemberley's friends and neighbours, who such a creature could possibly be?"
Chapter 13
Miss Darcy and Mr Butler were inseparable. When they were not dancing, they were sitting down talking or walking about the room together. Their behaviour began to draw the attention of some of the elders at the ball, particularly those spiteful ladies from the county families. Mrs Eaton's enquiries as to whom Miss Darcy's inclinations seemed particularly favoured did not immediately bring her satisfaction. No one seemed to know anything about him. In desperation she asked Miss Bingley. Mrs Eaton always liked to see Miss Bingley at the Pemberley parties and knew she could be relied upon for any spicy gossip to be had. But she was disappointed. Miss Bingley had no idea who the charming Adonis could be but was sufficiently motivated to find out, especially when Mrs Eaton informed her that Miss Darcy had danced with him no less than three times.
Seeing Mr Darcy on the other side of the room completely engaged in conversation with a fellow neighbour, Miss Bingley made her way around the edge of the ballroom, all the while observing Miss Darcy and her partner. There was something rather too familiar about the behaviour of the young man, she thought, and had quite decided against him before she even reached Mr Darcy's side.
On seeing her approach, the gentleman discussing the Christmas sport due to take place on the following day bowed and took his leave, assuring Mr Darcy of his attendance on the morrow. Mr Darcy, who was feeling rather pleased and proud with himself and delighted by the way that the evening was progressing, smiled warmly at Miss Bingley. "A ball to surpass any ever held at Pemberley, I think, Miss Bingley," he said. "However, I am sorry to see you are not dancing."
"Oh, do not worry about me, Mr Darcy, I've had my share of partners this evening. I find I am happy enough to observe the splendid company before me, and to meet with so many old friends is a delight."
"It is indeed. There is nothing like a ball for cementing intimacy amongst neighbours. Everyone talks at once, information and compliments flow, and when each is satisfied that they are the envy of their peers, they go home rejoicing in the pleasure of an evening well spent at no expense to themselves, convinced of their own unrivalled good fortune and superiority."
Miss Bingley laughed in a coquettish manner. "Mr Darcy, if I did not know you better I might accuse you of being satirical."
Mr Darcy smiled again. "Come, Miss Bingley, do you mean to contradict me?"
"Oh no, not in the slightest, I never did see anything differently from you. Our neighbours give us much diversion in many ways, I agree, and the observation of their behaviour bests any sport one might get out in the fresh air, in my opinion. And whilst we are on the subject of your guests, Mr Darcy, there is one here to whom I have not been introduced and a young man who is quite a figur
e of curiosity amongst your friends, I might add."
"Really? There is someone here that you have a particular wish to be introduced to, Miss Bingley? Can you point the gentleman out to me? I will present him at once."
"Yes, of course. But you must know why we are all anxious to meet the young man. He has been most particular in his company this evening and has not left Miss Darcy's side for the last three dances. Is there something you have been hiding from us, Mr Darcy? Is an engagement about to be announced?"
Darcy's face fell at this intelligence and when he followed Miss Bingley's gaze across the dance floor to alight his eyes upon his sister dancing in a very animated fashion with Mr Butler, his whole expression changed. His dark eyes glittered with anger and his whole countenance could not have displayed more discomposure.
"Excuse me, Miss Bingley," he said immediately, giving a short bow before he strode off, circumnavigating the room in pursuit of his wife.
Just at that moment the supper bell rang and the confusion that ensued as the hungry revellers quickly abandoned the ballroom for the dining room had Mr Darcy caught up in the crowd. He was forced to abandon his search for the present. He knew Elizabeth would already be engaged with Mrs Reynolds and her staff, supervising the proceedings and ensuring that everyone was happy. There was nothing he could do for the moment.
Elizabeth was happily employed in the dining room, moving amongst her guests and hoping that her feelings would not betray her. The intelligence that Elizabeth had earlier received from Mr Bingley had been a great shock, but although she had been almost stupefied by the information at the outset, she was now convinced that something about the whole matter was not quite as she had at first thought. The more she contemplated, the more she was completely amused by the idea, for no matter how the situation looked, in her heart she could no more put two such dissimilar personalities together than jump in a basket and fly over the moon. Louisa Hurst! Charles and Caroline Bingley's elder sister, who was as equally disagreeable as her sibling, was the person who had played Viola. Louisa was in London for the season with her husband at present and no ball at Pemberley would have induced her to miss one in the metropolis. Elizabeth felt enormous relief. Whoever the correspondents of the letter had been, she was certain they were not Fitzwilliam and Louisa. She laughed inside at the very idea. And now she had had time to think over the whole thing, she was able to come to the conclusion that even if her husband had ever been in love before, as was highly likely, it had not stopped him from marrying her. Elizabeth bore his name, they loved one another, and she would not think or dwell on whatever may or may not have happened in the past. She was, therefore, delighted to see her husband coming with all speed into the room, though as she regarded his countenance at some distance, she could immediately see that something was wrong. He looked most displeased.
As soon as she was able she asked him the reason for his obvious discontent. "Are you feeling unwell, Fitzwillliam? You do not look yourself."
His face was scarlet and Elizabeth became most concerned as she was led away to a quiet corner of the room. "I want Mr Butler removed from my sister's side immediately," he began. "He has been making an exhibition of her, I have been told, behaving in a disreputable manner, and exposing her to the curiosity and insults of the entire neighbourhood."
Elizabeth tried to soothe him straight away. "I daresay you are mistaken, my love. From whom did you receive this information?"
"I've seen it with my own eyes, thanks to Miss Bingley and the knowledge she gleaned from others. There is talk of an engagement, would you believe? The boy needs whipping for his impertinence."
So Miss Bingley was bent on revenge and had found the perfect weapon with which to accomplish her acts of retribution. Elizabeth immediately sprang to the defence of Mr Butler. "There is no harm done. Young people love to dance and Georgiana is no exception. Mr Butler is very gentleman-like, and I am sure if they have been a little carried away by their enthusiasm for the spirit of the occasion, a gentle word will set everything to rights."
"I think if you will observe the Gardiners' table, Mrs Darcy, you will see that it is far too late. Not only is the young upstart sitting next to her, but he is rattling away, talking nineteen to the dozen in such a way to make the entire room cognisant of their conversation. What are your relations thinking about to allow such a thing to carry on? The damage is done. Hugh Calladine will not ask her to dance again this evening."
Elizabeth, though determined to remain calm, initially found herself unable to listen any longer without feeling extreme indignation. Not only was he being completely unreasonable, but also he had insulted her aunt and uncle and, by so doing, had offended her in such a way that she knew she could not easily forgive. But she had no wish to cause a scene. There was quite enough going on for their guests to enjoy as it was, and Lizzy was determined that nothing was going to spoil this long planned evening.
"I will request that Georgiana join us at an appropriate moment. Do not worry, all will be accomplished without any fuss and you will see that your fears are unfounded. Georgiana is too sensible to place herself in such a predicament and I am sure Mr Butler is only being a gallant guest. Excuse me, Fitzwilliam."
Elizabeth walked away, determined not to be angry, though all the while feeling her emotions rising with every step. She could see Georgiana looking so happy and chatting away with confidence in a way she had never seen her before. It seemed cruel to separate them, but she felt there was nothing else she could do without making difficulties for everyone concerned. Fitzwilliam had been unforgivably rude, but she knew that his fierce protection for his sister was at its core, though forgiveness seemed quite impossible for his behaviour.
Unhappily, Miss Bingley chose the same moment to move across the room towards the Gardiners' table and arrested Elizabeth on her way.
"May I congratulate you, Mrs Darcy," she said, "on an eventful evening and for expanding the society of dear Miss Darcy. I hear her gallant suitor is a gardener, no less. Indeed, it quite puts me in mind. The Darcys always did have a penchant for keeping low company, as I recall hearing, and it appears as if Miss Darcy is making the same mistakes as her brother once did. But I do not wish to talk out of turn. I daresay the old days are best forgotten."
Elizabeth knew that Miss Bingley was making a reference to the friendship Fitzwilliam had at one time shared with her sister Lydia's husband Mr Wickham. The son of Mr Darcy's father's old steward, George Wickham had grown up alongside Fitzwilliam, playing together like brothers and sharing their lessons. He had turned out to be a disreputable character and the enforced marriage after Wickham had eloped with her sister Lydia still left Elizabeth feeling shamed. "If you have nothing else to add, Miss Bingley, I must take my leave of you," Elizabeth managed to say, though her voice could hardly be heard over the noisy accompaniment of the diners all around.
"Well, I do not think it lasted long, his infatuation with George Wickham's step-sister. But she was a beauty, I've been told, quite dark, a similar colouring to your own, I imagine. Now then, what was her name? Ah yes, Viola. Viola Wickham; I wonder where she is now?"
Chapter 14
The shock on Elizabeth's face prompted another response from Miss Bingley. "My dear Mrs Darcy, I do beg your pardon. You appear quite unwell. I did not mean to upset you, but I see the astonishment upon your countenance betrays your feelings wholeheartedly. Come; allow me to find you a seat. I should never have said a word if I thought you would be so overset. I assumed, as you and your husband appear so very confidential, that you must have some knowledge of his past."
Before Elizabeth had a chance to utter a syllable Miss Bingley took her arm and attempted to steer her in the direction of the door. Lizzy, however, halted their progress immediately. She was determined to recover her composure and though her thoughts raced around her head with more questions than she could ever hope to have answered, she rallied in time.
"Please do not concern yourself, Miss Bingley," she managed t
o say. "I was a little shocked, I confess. I had no idea that George Wickham had any siblings at all."
"Or that husbands are capable of keeping such secrets, I daresay," interrupted Miss Bingley. "I suppose a young gentleman must enjoy a little youthful dissipation, and Viola Wickham was very willing to supply that diversion, I have heard. I've no doubt of Mrs Eaton's authority on the subject; she is a lady who knows everything. I will tell what history I can recollect. George Wickham's father was married twice. When the first Mrs Wickham died his father married again, I believe. She already had two daughters, but their mother wanted a fresh start and they were sent to live with her sister. A short while later, George Wickham was born. The forgotten girls never were returned to live with them and so Wickham grew up not knowing he had any step-sisters. He was separated from them for many years until after his mother died, and he was reunited with one of them. Wickham's father invited Viola to Pemberley with old Mr Darcy's permission, thinking that she might have a settling influence on the boy, who was becoming a most troublesome young man. Little did he realise what havoc she would create. I believe Darcy and the Wickhams were inseparable for several months from what Mrs Eaton told me."
"I do not wish to know any more, thank you," said Elizabeth. "It was not necessary to inform me of any of this tittle-tattle and I would be very obliged to you if you would leave me now, Miss Bingley."
"Of course, Mrs Darcy, but I do reiterate: it was not my wish to upset you but merely to inform you. However, in light of my further considered opinion, I do think, dear friend, that perhaps it might be prudent not to mention this conversation to Mr Darcy himself. I would hate to be the cause of any distress to his good person. As I say, I am most regretful if I have caused you any suffering."