by Head, Gail
* * * *
Robert Driscoll drifted amiably through the crowded room, convinced that his friend would not have an enjoyable evening without some assistance. It was the least he could do after all the consideration Darcy had shown him over the years. Assiduously, he evaluated the compatibility of the young ladies of his acquaintance to Darcy's naturally reticent nature. Because he had often seen Darcy dance a full set without saying a single word to his unlucky partner, it was requisite that the young lady be kindly disposed to his friend's temperament.
At first glance, there were several ladies that appeared to be excellent choices, yet upon further deliberation, they lacked the most indispensable attribute of all – an ability to encourage conversation in a man of reticent disposition. It did not take long, though before Driscoll spied the perfect partner for Darcy. She was young, clever, and witty. He had often observed her gentle and encouraging manner with those who found the demands of society particularly daunting. And though she was always handsome to look at, tonight she was exceptionally pretty. He was sure even Darcy would not turn down the opportunity to dance with her.
It was settled then. Once he secured her hand for a dance, he would set up an introduction for Darcy before anyone else had the chance to take her away.
With a little scheming on his part, he managed to succeed for the very next dance. Her company was everything he expected and he found her to be a surprisingly adept partner. Maneuvering to execute the fifth figure in the quadrille they were dancing, he proceeded to enlist her help.
“May I say you dance as beautifully as you look this evening?”
She gave him a small, embarrassed smile. “I thank you, and may I say that you are being very generous with your complements!”
“It is easy to be generous when the subject is as lovely as you,” he countered sincerely. “I daresay you have been much engaged. I was quite fortunate to secure this dance.”
“Only because I was in search of refreshment when you intercepted me, sir. I do believe Mr. Whitely is displeased with you for stealing me away. I shall have to promise him the next.”
“The evening is young. He will have his chance, I am certain. As for me, I must confess that my purpose for dancing with you is two-fold.”
“Really, Mr. Driscoll? Two-fold! I am intrigued. Am I to know your purpose?”
“By all means! The first was because you are quite easily the prettiest girl in the room.”
“I believe we have already exhausted that subject, sir,” she chided him gently. “And the second?”
“The second is that I am in need of a particular favor. May I be so bold as to ask a dance for a friend of mine?”
“You are asking for a friend? Tell me, Mr. Driscoll, what manner of man is he that he cannot ask for himself?”
“He is a very good sort of man, really. He has been a mentor of sorts to me, especially when I was inexperienced and in need of a friend. It is just that he seldom travels to this part of the kingdom and he knows very few people here. He also tends to be rather diffident in large crowds. I am very much indebted to him and I should like for him to have an enjoyable time.”
“Very well then. With such a high recommendation as that, I cannot but like the man already! I should be happy to dance with him if he is agreeable to your scheme.”
“Thank you very much!” Driscoll grinned broadly as the dance ended and he offered a low bow. “He is just over there. Shall I introduce you?”
“Certainly,” she replied, and held tightly to his arm as he navigated the press of couples going to and from the dance floor.
“Here we are,” Driscoll announced cheerfully, pulling her into a relatively clear space near one of the open windows. “May I present my friend –”
“Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth cried in amazement.
Darcy's eyes widened in shocked disbelief. What was Elizabeth doing here – at a ball? His eyes hastily swept her figure. The fit of her gown plainly revealed there was not the slightest possibility of her carrying a child. By all accounts, she should have been nearing her confinement; but the graceful figure beneath the pale blue silk was as slender and trim as it ever was.
Elizabeth dropped to a curtsey in an effort to escape Darcy's intense stare, only to be reminded of the too-low cut of her gown. Rising abruptly, she stood in silent agony, not knowing what to say. Why is he staring at me so? Does he disapprove? I wish I could tell him the wretched gown was not my choice! But to disclose that sort of information would only make matters worse. In spite of the viscount's successful efforts in elevating her status from paid companion to Rebecca's “friend” in the eyes of his neighbors, Mr. Darcy would no doubt see through the deception immediately.
Elizabeth recalled that he abhorred disguise of every sort, and knew she could sink no lower in his estimation. In fact, the crease now furrowing his brow told her that she had succeeded in losing the last of any regard he may have had for her.
Discomfited by Darcy's silence, Driscoll leaned in, speaking under his breath. “Acknowledge the lady, man! What is wrong with you? Have the goodness to say something!”
Fighting his way through the paralyzing mixture of shock at finding her here, relief of finding her at all, and the overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms and never let her go, Darcy bowed stiffly.
“Miss Bennet. I beg your pardon. I did not expect…that is…I, um,” he clumsily stammered before finally managing to put together a coherent greeting. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”
“You know each other then?” Driscoll was pleasantly surprised. “How splendid!”
“Yes! We were introduced last year in Hertfordshire,” Elizabeth offered. The recollection of their last time together at Hunsford colored her cheeks. “That is to say, we have met on a few occasions.”
“This is even better than I thought! Darcy, I brought Miss Bennet over to entice you to dance and get better acquainted, but I see my work is already done – except for the dancing, of course. What do you say?”
Darcy's mind was still reeling with astonishment. Was there a miscalculation – an early birth, or worse? This does not make any sense!
Mistaking Darcy's look for an expression strikingly similar to the one he had displayed as he left Hunsford Cottage, Elizabeth gave Mr. Driscoll a slight, embarrassed smile. “I am afraid Mr. Darcy and I are not the best of friends.”
“I am surprised to hear that, Miss Bennet!” He threw a quick glance at Darcy and his friend's grim silence seemed to confirm the fact. “I beg your pardon. I had no idea. Shall I return you to Mr. Whitely? He must be looking for his dance by now.”
“No!” cried Darcy in sudden panic. Seeing the startled reaction to his extraordinary outburst, he quickly tempered his reply. “I mean, that is to say, please forgive my boorish manners. Indeed, I would be honored if Miss Bennet would dance with me.”
“I know Mr. Darcy does not care for dancing, and I would not wish to impose,” Elizabeth responded, giving Driscoll another apologetic smile. She dropped a polite curtsey and began to withdraw.
At that moment, Darcy did not care how or when or why Elizabeth came to be at this ball in the middle of Cumberland. He was just glad that he had finally found her and he was not about to let her go. Stepping forward with a meaningful smile about his lips, he held his hand out to her.
“And I know, Miss Bennet, that you sometimes profess opinions which, in fact, are not your own. I should very much like to dance with you. Will you do me the honor?”
Elizabeth stared at him, confused at his gently teasing manner. After all her hateful words and discourteous manners, did he truly desire her company? It was impossible to imagine, yet the warm, inviting look in his eyes declared otherwise. He did indeed seem genuinely eager to dance with her.
She paused a moment longer, now disposed to accept his surprising change of heart, yet realizing her hopes of any lasting amiability would surely be in vain. Perhaps he had managed to overlook the inferiority of her connections and the ec
centricities of her family, but the circumstances surrounding her current employment with Lord Grissholm was another matter. Lydia had allowed George Wickham to drag her family into disgrace, and Elizabeth knew from Mr. Darcy's letter last April that he would never, in any possible way, connect himself to his worst enemy.
“Miss Bennet? Shall we dance?”
She looked hesitantly at his outstretched hand and then into his suddenly anxious and uncertain eyes. She saw no judgment, no condemnation for her past offenses. What she did see in the depths of his eyes sent a jolt of surprise through her. He was obviously in want of her company.
“Yes, Mr. Darcy. I should like that very much,” she answered softly and placed her hand in his.
Darcy's heart jumped to a frenzied pace as his fingers closed tightly over hers and he led her to their place on the dance floor. His placid expression was all that it should be, but his eyes glittered with the rapture that burned within him. There were a thousand questions to be answered, but for the moment he would simply allow himself the very great pleasure of her company.
Gathering her courage to face Darcy's eager gaze, Elizabeth offered a gracious smile. He really was quite handsome in his formal attire; but more appealing than any aspect of his physical appearance, was a greater understanding of his noble traits she had heretofore failed to acknowledge. Traits that, sadly, she would never come to fully comprehend. When the music swelled with the opening of a country dance, bringing them together for the first figure, she had to forcefully remind herself that his attentive manner would only last as long as he was ignorant of her situation.
Darcy moved in to grasp Elizabeth's hand, drawing her close to him as they pivoted, the length of their bodies nearly touching, and then it was back to the line as the next couple followed suit.
For several minutes, they moved through the steps in silence, but there was no awkwardness felt by either party. For Darcy, it was sheer bliss. When he was not relishing the feel of her hand afforded by the dictates of the dance, his eyes were absorbing every delightful detail of her appearance, from the topmost curl of her head to the pale blue slippers on her feet.
Elizabeth simply watched him, wondering at the transformation of the man who now stood opposite her.
At last, Darcy recalled her previous criticism of his reluctance to speak while dancing and thus moved to put right that particular deficiency. When next they came together, he leaned in and murmured softly.
“Miss Bennet, may I say how stunning you look this evening?”
Elizabeth blushed self-consciously, not so much at his words, but at the passionate fervor with which he uttered them.
“I thank you, sir. That is high praise indeed.”
“I only speak as I see,” he smiled down at her heightened color.
Averting her gaze from his steadfast one, Elizabeth searched frantically for a safer, more neutral topic.
“Um, Mr. Darcy, I was very surprised to see you here tonight. How do you come to be in this part of the country? Are you acquainted with Sir Percy?”
“Only slightly. I actually came with Mr. Driscoll, a friend from my university days.”
“I see,” she remarked as casually as she could. “And do you intend to be in the neighborhood long?”
“Not very long, I hope. In truth, Miss Bennet, I have been looking for you these past several weeks and am very glad to have finally found you.”
“Found me?” she asked as they parted to cross over the couple to their left. Coming back together, she continued. “What reason could you have to be looking for me in the first place?”
The dance separated them and Elizabeth held his eyes with a puzzled look until they were moving down the set, arm in arm. Darcy's heart beat in furious delight as she moved gracefully alongside him. He struggled to keep his mind on the task at hand. Astonishingly, he had not found her to be with child; but further consideration as to the meaning of that revelation would have to wait. The most pressing need now was for her to return to Hertfordshire to restore her reputation and that of her family.
“I have news from Longbourn. Your elder sister has been very anxious that you be found. I have been…that is, Mr. Bingley and I have – ”
“News from Longbourn?” Elizabeth froze in place, nearly causing a calamity with the other dancers. Darcy's arm wrapped solidly around her waist, pulling her back into position.
“Is it my father?!” she breathed. “I know he has been ill. Is he – ”
“You know?” It was Darcy's turn to be startled. “How could you? Miss Bennet said there have been no letters passed between you.”
Elizabeth shook her head to clear the troubled thoughts crowding in. “An acquaintance…wrote me of my father's attack. Is he…is the news bad?”
“It is not as bad as you are imagining, Miss Bennet. Your father was recovering suitably well when I left him some weeks ago.”
Elizabeth's relief was evident, although her color had not recovered completely. With an understanding smile, Darcy guided her down the line thinking her misstep had gone undetected. He did not know there was one person who had seen it all. Obscured in the press of bystanders that ringed the room, Lord Grissholm sullenly continued to watch their every move.
The dance sent the couple down the length of the figure, and Darcy's heart constricted painfully when Elizabeth suddenly glanced up at him, worry and concern still shining in her eyes.
“If my father truly was out of danger before you left Hertfordshire, then why have you come all this way to find me?”
Darcy glanced to the couples on either side of them, then to the colonnade that ran along the east side of the ballroom.
“Could I persuade you to walk with me in the corridor? I believe what I have to say would be better accomplished in a more private setting.”
Concerned even more by his evasive response, Elizabeth gave a slight nod and allowed herself to be guided away from the dance floor. As they wound their way through the crowded room, she was strangely comforted by the gentle touch of his hand held protectively at the small of her back.
They quickly reached the row of soaring columns and stepped in the shadowy corridor beyond. There were a few others occupying the space as well, but for the most part, their attention was fixed on the scores of guests in the adjacent ballroom.
When Darcy had retreated a few more steps, Elizabeth turned anxiously.
“What is it, Mr. Darcy? What news do you have?”
“I have been looking for you because your family is quite anxious for your return. There are certain rumors circulating regarding your sudden departure last June.”
“Rumors? I do not understand. We were very careful to make it quite clear that I am travelling with Mrs. Whitestone – one of my father's relations.”
“When your father fell ill, and the responsibility for Longbourn's affairs was thrust upon your sister, she was quite anxious for you to know. She had no directions for sending a letter, and in her desire to find some, she applied to Mr. Collins, who had happened to call at Longbourn. Regrettably, Mr. Collins came to the unfortunate conclusion that there is no such person as Mrs. Whitestone in his family, and thus began to speculate that something was amiss.”
“Oh, no! This is dreadful. That man cannot keep anything to himself!”
Even in the shadows of the columns, Darcy could see Elizabeth pale considerably. He moved closer, wanting to hold her close and assure her all would be made right again. Instead, he contented himself with taking up her hand and tucking it into the crook of his arm, feeling a thrill of contentment in the warmth of her touch as they walked on.
“Please know that I have addressed Mr. Collins personally, and he will not speak of this to anyone.”
“But, Lady Catherine – ” she whispered faintly. “He will never keep anything from Lady Catherine.”
“He will this time, I have made certain.” Darcy's hand pressed hers reassuringly. “Please do not give Mr. Collins or Lady Catherine another thought.”
> “I cannot believe you would trouble yourself so much on our account. I thank you, Mr. Darcy, very much, for what you have done for my family. I do not know how we can repay you for this kindness.”
“Your family owes me nothing. Much as I respect them, I must confess I thought only of you. Miss Bennet, as much as I do not deserve it, would you allow me to – ”
His words were interrupted when a liveried servant suddenly appeared in the corridor and hastened to Elizabeth's side. Murmuring something too low for Darcy to understand, the boy waited for an answer, which she gave with a nod of her head, and then he was gone.
She looked up at Darcy with an apologetic smile.
“I am sorry, Mr. Darcy; urgent business calls me away at once, but I should very much like to hear what else you have to say. Could we continue this tomorrow?”
“Yes, of course. I must tell you, however, that time is of the utmost importance. Would you permit me to call on you in the morning?”
Suddenly hesitant, she averted her eyes. She could not bring herself to tell him the “urgent business” was Lord Grissholm demanding she come at once. Nor could she allow him to call at Everton and learn of her disgrace. Still avoiding his gaze, she offered him a small curtsey.
“I am engaged in Hensingham the greater part of the day tomorrow; but if you would care to walk in the park at, say four o'clock, we could meet there. I am most anxious to hear more of my family.”
Darcy could sense her eagerness to be gone, still he could not bring himself to let her go so easily. It was too soon for him to let her walk away just yet.
“I would be happy to join you tomorrow, but is there not something I can do for you tonight?”
“No, I thank you, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth replied firmly, turning away. “I shall meet you in the park at four o'clock.”
Doggedly, Darcy followed after her, gently catching her arm and turning her about to face him. Her beautiful face was a mixture of emotions he could not decipher.
“The message has obviously distressed you, Miss Bennet. I cannot bear to see you leave in this manner. Would you…would you allow me to escort you home?”