Suddenly she realized that while they had been talking, Darcy’s hand had worked its way around her back and was softly caressing the nape of her neck. She blushed at the thought of her aunt’s reaction at the impropriety. Fortunately, Georgiana and Mrs. Gardiner were far ahead of them feeding bread to the ducks in the pond.
Her first impulse was to chastise Darcy, or at least tease him, but when he ran his hand lightly along her shoulder she shivered with pleasure and recalled so many other pleasurable touches. Closing her eyes, she simply enjoyed the sensations.
Then she opened them and tilted her head toward Darcy. “When I first met you, I thought you excessively proud and proper. Who knew that underneath you are completely lacking in propriety, sir?”
“I beg to differ. I was the soul of propriety before I met you, madam.” He arched his brow at her.
She laughed. “So I have corrupted you? No, I do not believe that to be the case. I know I never before allowed a man to caress my neck in public.” She gave him a mischievous look. “I am afraid you are an appallingly bad influence on my behavior – and not the other way around.”
“Now that I think of it, I do believe I have talked you into some shocking behavior.” Seeing Georgiana and Mrs. Gardiner turn and stroll back toward them, Darcy hastily removed his arm from around Elizabeth’s back. As the two women were almost within earshot, he leaned over and whispered in her ear: “Mrs. Darcy!”
Her giggle caused her aunt to raise an eyebrow. Elizabeth schooled her face into a properly demure expression as they turned back to Gracechurch Street.
Darcy’s aunt insisted on greeting each guest who arrived, apparently as part of her campaign to appear as if no scandal had touched the family. Unfortunately, she had also insisted that her husband, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Darcy join her – although Darcy was the last in the line and many people did not linger to talk with him. Because Georgiana was not officially “out” in society, she was spared this duty. Lucky Georgiana, Darcy thought. Darcy’s eyes were drawn to the door each time a new visitor appeared. Instinctively he knew he would be more comfortable with the whole evening once Elizabeth arrived – even if he could not spend every moment with her, as he would prefer.
He glanced at his aunt and uncle, seeing Aunt Alice holding her head high as she attempted to appear above any gossip about her son and his mistress. His uncle appeared oblivious – which he probably was. He had been irate about his son’s actions, but often did not notice the ill effects of gossip. However, happily, very few people had declined the invitation to the ball, so Lady Matlock was in high spirits, seeing it as an indication that the earl’s family had not slipped down the social pecking order. But Darcy saw signs of strain around her mouth and knew that they could not assume they had escaped scandal so easily.
Even as this thought occurred to him, Darcy noticed some women gossiping behind their fans and exchanging raised eyebrows. Clearly there was some talk about his cousin’s behavior. Darcy could understand his aunt’s insistence on avoiding further scandal at this moment, although he grimaced at the thought. He would have had no trouble complying with her wishes at another moment in time, but how long could he bear to be separated from Elizabeth?
There was a lull during which no guests arrived and Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was standing next to Darcy, took the opportunity to scrutinize his cousin. “Well, Cousin, you do not seem nearly as melancholy as before we left for France.” Darcy nodded briefly in acknowledgment, but said nothing to enlighten his cousin. “Now you have a new sprightliness in your step. Care to reveal why?”
Darcy gazed past his cousin to the ballroom door. “No.”
“I shall figure it out.” The Colonel grinned rakishly. “I would love to learn more about your escape from France. It is a thrilling story, I am certain.”
“Yes, I will have to recount it when I have time to do it justice,” Darcy said, trying to ignore Fitzwilliam’s scrutiny.
“I had planned to apologize for luring you to France and entrapping you in a war, but perhaps it is not necessary.”
Darcy gave him a sidelong glance that was full of irony. “Richard, have I thanked you recently for dragging me to France and entrapping me in a war?”
Fitzwilliam was still attempting to formulate an appropriate response when Darcy spied Elizabeth and the Gardiners enter the room. He hurried forward to make the introductions.
Elizabeth was stunning in a gown of blue silk, with a light blue ribbon woven into her dark curls. As he introduced them, Darcy could see his aunt taking the measure of the younger woman, having already dismissed the Gardiners as being unimportant. Now she pursed her lips in disapproval as she regarded Elizabeth, who, nonetheless radiated charm and confidence, smiling and talking with apparent disregard of his aunt’s mood. He wondered what the effort was costing her.
Darcy resumed his place next to Fitzwilliam as the Gardiners and Elizabeth made their way toward him. Elizabeth curtsied before the Colonel. “Miss Bennet,” he said, “I am so happy to see that you were able to escape France without harm.”
“Thank you, Colonel.”
“When did you arrive in London?”
“Only a few days ago.” Fitzwilliam raised his eyebrows at this information, but said nothing. “I did not expect to see you in London,” she added.
“Yes, I have been assigned the onerous duty of defending the capital,” Fitzwilliam replied with mock regret and Elizabeth laughed. “Actually I am currently serving as an aide to General Howell, but they may send me abroad soon. I hope I may have the pleasure of a dance tonight?”
“Yes, sir,” she smiled winningly at him. “The first dance is reserved,” Elizabeth’s gaze slid to Darcy, her eyes sparkling since he had requested the first dance yesterday. “But you may have the second if you wish.”
“Very good.” The Colonel’s eyes traveled speculatively from Elizabeth to Darcy, who returned the look blandly.
Mrs. Gardiner had been standing next to Elizabeth during this exchange. “Elizabeth, you cannot do too much dancing, remember. If you fatigue yourself too much, you might suffer a relapse.”
Annoyance flashed across Elizabeth’s face and was gone. “I will be careful. May I present Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Darcy’s cousin?”
As the Gardiners conversed with the Colonel, Elizabeth moved down the line to stand opposite Darcy and curtseying with an ironic gleam in her eye. “Mr. Darcy, so good to see you again.”
“Miss Bennet, can I say you look lovely tonight? I daresay no other lady here can compare.” He kissed her hand. It was pure torture. She was here – more beautiful than he had ever seen her – and he could not kiss her. He decided the rules of proper behavior had some serious flaws. “I look forward to our dance.”
“As do I.” Her smile was completely innocent, yet it made him want to forget every promise he had made to his Aunt – to dance every dance with her and take her into his arms and never let her go. He wanted, God help him, to announce their marriage to everyone at the ball so there would be no barriers between them.
The Gardiners greeted Darcy and, after a brief conversation, the trio moved away, Darcy watching Elizabeth until she disappeared into the crowd. Most of the guests had already arrived and the two men had no one to greet. Colonel Fitzwilliam turned to his cousin with a speculative gleam in his eye. “I had not realized Miss Bennet had been ill.”
With a sinking feeling, Darcy realized where this conversation was tending. “I believe she is mostly recovered,” Darcy allowed.
“It is quite a coincidence,” Fitzwilliam continued. “Georgiana said that your letters from France explained how your traveling companion was ill and unable to travel. She thought it a little curious that you did not mention your companion’s name, but concluded it was because she was probably not acquainted with him. Now I wonder if he was a she.” Fitzwilliam grinned at Darcy.
“Your powers of deduction are undimmed, Cousin,” Darcy said, lowering his voice. He had known he would not be able to conceal
the truth of his travels in France from his cousin for long. “Miss Bennet had no other way to leave France since her aunt and uncle were in another part of the country. When she became ill, I took her to the home of my college friend, Thomas Whitmore. Nothing improper took place, however. After all she was ill most of the time.”
Fitzwilliam waved this statement away as unnecessary. “Of course. I know you Darcy. Are you ever planning to enlighten Georgiana?”
“Eventually. She is so young and easily shocked, but I know she will be sympathetic to the necessities of the situation. I am hoping she will get to know Elizabeth better before I must lay out the full story.” Darcy sighed inwardly at the thought of how much story there was to explain. “Out of concern for Miss Bennet’s reputation, we have kept the details a secret.”
“Rest assured I will not say anything.” Fitzwilliam resumed his speculative expression. “Did I perceive a softening in her regard for you?”
Darcy could not suppress a small smile. “There has been progress. Unfortunately your brother has made it rather difficult to associate with a family touched by scandal right now. Not to mention the trouble caused by Lydia Bennet and Wickham.”
Fitzwilliam shook his head in disgust. “Did my mother lecture you about your duty to the family? Are you going to let that stop you?”
“No. Although I plan to be circumspect.” Fitzwilliam nodded his understanding.
As soon as he was finished greeting guests, Darcy procured a glass of punch and took it to Elizabeth, who was talking with Georgiana while the Gardiners observed. Darcy stood at Elizabeth’s elbow, amazed how easily she conversed with his sister. It was probably the most he had ever heard Georgiana say to someone who was not in the family.
Soon the orchestra started playing some introductory notes, signaling the beginning of the dancing. He saw his uncle escort his aunt – every inch the countess – to the dance floor to open the ball. “I believe this is my dance, Miss Bennet?” He took her hand and led her to the dance floor. Colonel Fitzwilliam came to claim Georgiana as a partner. Since she was not officially out, Darcy’s sister could only dance with family members and Darcy had considered this night to be a good rehearsal for her eventual debut. Next year, for her first season, she would be obligated to attend balls and dinners almost every night.
Darcy and Elizabeth beheld each other as they waited for the dance music to begin. He could hardly wait to touch her, even though the strictures of the formal dance would allow only limited contact. The music started and he took Elizabeth’s hand as she circled around him. When she passed close enough, he murmured, “My bed was very empty last night.” He was rewarded by a delicate blush coloring her cheeks, but then she looked pensive. As she circled again, she said: “What a coincidence. So was mine.” He felt himself flush and then chuckled, realizing she had gotten her revenge.
As they negotiated the dance’s intricate figures, Darcy felt more at ease than he ever had at a ball. Elizabeth’s smiles touched his heart – and every time their hands met, he felt an electrical shock. His frustration at their limited contact was tempered by a deep satisfaction in the knowledge she was his.
At first he danced in a haze of love, oblivious to anything outside their private world; however, eventually, he noticed an inordinately large number of people watching them. Young women were staring, while mothers and chaperones were talking with great animation, no doubt wondering about the identity of his partner and her family. As his aunt had predicted, anyone he danced with would become an object of interest. He would find the whole thing laughable except that he was sure the news of Lydia and Wickham was circulating as well, and people would soon connect the scandal to Elizabeth’s family. It could not be helped, but he vowed to shield Elizabeth from the vitriol as much as he could.
When he turned his attention back to Elizabeth, her beautiful eyes were full of concern as she recognized what all the whispering meant. As the steps of the dance drew them close, Darcy murmured to her, “Do not be concerned, my love. We will face it together.”
“William, are you sure you do not—”
He knew what she was about to say. “I do not have one moment’s hesitation about what we did,” he whispered. “My only regret would have been if you had refused me a second time.” His words were rewarded with a slow smile spreading across her face.
The first dance ended and Darcy passed Elizabeth over to Colonel Fitzwilliam, while he danced with Georgiana. Darcy found it hard to keep his attention on Georgiana, who, fortunately, did not seem to expect him to converse much. His gaze continuously drifted to Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam. He could not hear what they were talking about, but she was laughing and smiling. Darcy noticed every time his cousin’s hands briefly touched her waist or her hand. You have nothing to worry about; she has chosen you, he reminded himself. However, the necessity of concealing their marriage meant it was difficult to believe in the reality of her choice. He was especially sensitive to Fitzwilliam’s attentions, since he knew his cousin had admired her at Rosings.
Then Darcy noticed Georgiana watching him watching Elizabeth, so he smiled reassuringly to his sister and focused his attention to her. The expression on her face suggested she had guessed his attachment to Elizabeth; he would need to tell her the truth soon.
When the second dance ended, Darcy handed Georgiana to Fitzwilliam and quickly strolled toward Elizabeth, intending to make sure she rested – and did not dance with anyone else, except maybe her uncle. However, before he reached her, he was intercepted by Aunt Alice. “Fitzwilliam,” she said softly but firmly, “you promised me not to be excessively attentive to Miss Bennet – and to dance with other eligible ladies.” While she was speaking, she put a hand to his elbow and guided him over to a young lady who stood waiting with her mother. She was quite pretty, he supposed, with blonde curls and blue eyes. Her dress was quite au courant and showed a pleasing figure; however, he knew that only one pair of eyes and dark hair would satisfy him.
“May I introduce Miss Penelope Maddox? Her father is the Earl of Colting,” Aunt Alice said. “Miss Maddox, this is my nephew, Fitzwilliam Darcy.” Miss Maddox curtsied and Darcy bowed.
Time to pay the piper, he supposed. “Miss Maddox, would you do me the honor of the next dance?”
She lowered her eyes demurely and smiled slightly. “Yes, thank you.”
For the next several dances, his aunt kept him well supplied with partners – as if she hoped she could erase her son’s scandal if her nephew made a brilliant match. After a few dances, the women started to blur together: all were fashionably dressed, well spoken, and good dancers who conducted themselves impeccably…and he could not have been more bored. The ball would improve dramatically, he knew, when he could return to Elizabeth.
As he danced with his sixth – or maybe seventh – partner, he realized with alarm that he was failing utterly in his vow to protect Elizabeth from mean-spirited inhabitants of the ton. He could not deflect criticism if he was not with her. On the other hand, she might not be the subject of much speculation if he did not converse with her much. One dance – even if it was the first dance – might not be enough to stir gossip and jealousy, but all of him rebelled at the thought of leaving her to fend for herself.
The dance ended and Darcy thanked his partner, although he could not remember anything they had discussed. He saw his aunt bearing down on him, but he preempted her. “I have danced enough for now. I need to rest.”
She regarded him coldly. “I have already selected another lady.” She gestured with her fan to a nearby woman whose profile Darcy recognized all too well.
“Caroline Bingley!” Darcy had not known the woman was at the ball or he would have taken pains to avoid her. Her party must have arrived after the receiving line ended. Darcy rounded on his aunt. “I have had plentiful opportunities to court Miss Bingley if I so desired. Her brother is my friend.”
“I know,” she smiled at him serenely. “Their fortune is in trade, so she’s not the most eligible
lady here. But her dowry is far better than what some women bring to the table.” Darcy knew this was an oblique criticism of Elizabeth and wondered if arranging a dance with Miss Bingley was his aunt’s revenge for his attentions to Elizabeth. Ah well, best to get it over with….
He approached Miss Bingley. “How good to see you again. May I have the pleasure of this dance?” She acquiesced with a smile which she probably believed appeared sincere.
As he led her into position, he asked, “Is your whole family here?”
She shook her head. “I came with my friends, the Winslows. Charles and Louisa are at home. So you will have to make do with me,” she said with a simpering smile. Darcy clenched his jaw, it would be a long set. It was as torturous as he expected. She agreed with his every opinion and denigrated the Bennets at every opportunity until he finally growled at her to stop.
When the dance was over, Darcy returned Miss Bingley to her friends, and was able to disengage from her attempts at further conversation. Before he could move toward Elizabeth, his aunt swooped in with a calculating gleam in her eye. Darcy relentlessly strode past her, determined not to fall prey to his schemes and this time she let him pass.
He hurried over to where Elizabeth talked with the Gardiners and Georgiana and positioned himself at Elizabeth’s elbow. During a break in the conversation, he asked in a low voice: “How are you feeling? Are you excessively fatigued?” He saw Mr. Gardiner regard him curiously and realized his tone was more suited to the familiar role of husband than the more formal and tentative tone of a suitor.
Elizabeth’s arched eyebrow showed that she also recognized his faux pas. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I am quite well. I think it will take more than two dances to fatigue me!” Although her last words were teasing, her tone was formal, making Darcy cringe inwardly at having forgotten himself. The idea of pretending to be a courting couple had seemed simple when they had planned it, but it was much more difficult to execute than he had anticipated. He wanted so much more from her than propriety allowed him.
The Secrets of Darcy and Elizabeth: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 17