Mr Darcy had not responded. Elizabeth glanced up to see if he was still there. He observed Jane and Mr Bingley, and his mouth tightened. He turned to Elizabeth with a brisk bow.
“I hope you have a pleasant evening,” he said.
“I am sure I will,” said Elizabeth, feeling a rush of relief that he would leave her in peace. Instead, he remained by her side. She was almost glad when the music started, and the couples lined up down the centre of the room for the first pair of dances. Even if she had to dance with Mr Collins, it was a welcome relief to standing in silence beside a man as cold and unpleasant as Mr Darcy. And it would give her the added advantage of moving about to find Wickham.
Mr Collins stepped to her side and cleared his throat.
“You look ravishing tonight, Cousin,” he said. He gave her a look that she could only suppose was intended to convey devotion. Elizabeth had to stifle a laugh. Her cousin had singled her out as the future Mrs Collins, and her mother applauded the supposed match, but Elizabeth was not about to throw herself away on a man she could not love. She would endure him politely until she could escape his affected attempts at being a lover. She would not allow him to claim she had led him on though she was sure a man like him would see anything as encouragement if he chose it.
“Thank you, sir,” she said in a detached manner.
“You are radiant,” he continued. “The most beautiful woman in the room. I cannot thank you enough for doing me the honour of standing up with me. I, a poor, humble clergyman, the future master of your family’s estate…”
Mr Darcy made an odd barking sound. Elizabeth looked at him in surprise to see him turning away, his lips twitching. Was that a laugh? She wasn’t sure which sensation was stronger; annoyance that he should laugh at her situation while she endured her cousin’s inept attempts at courtship or astonishment that he was capable of laughing at all.
“The dance has begun, sir,” she said quickly to cut her cousin off from more of his effusions. “Shall we join them?”
Mr Collins bowed and offered her his hand. With a suppressed shudder, she placed her own on it and suffered him to lead her to the line.
Fortunately, Mr Collins had to concentrate so intensely on the dance he had no room to spare for conversation. Unfortunately, it meant Elizabeth was mortified by his blunders. More than once, she had to gently pull him as he lurched in the wrong direction and collided with the lady coming in the opposite way with endless apologies. Elizabeth’s face flamed as she saw Mr Darcy prowling around the edge of the room. His handsome face softened with a smile as he observed her. She resolutely looked away from him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of thinking she saw him laugh at her.
Besides, where was Wickham? Elizabeth had high hopes of being engaged with him for most of the evening. She had pictured herself sitting with him and laughing with him and coming away from the night filled with hopes for the future. He had declared his animosity with Mr Darcy would not chase him away and he fully intended to be at the ball. Was it possible he had changed his mind anyway? She glanced back at Mr Darcy. He stood before the fire, and his eyes met hers as though he sensed her looking at him. Elizabeth quickly looked away. Hateful man. It was not enough he had destroyed Wickham’s hopes for the future through nothing more than spite and jealousy, but now he kept him away from polite society. She could hardly endure the sight of him.
The pair of dances ended. Elizabeth’s heart leapt with joy at her imminent release. Mr Collins simpered and bowed and apologised for his many mistakes.
“It is of little matter now, sir,” she said, her delight making her generous.
His eyes lit up.
“Then dare I say you enjoyed them as much as I did?” His voice dropped to an intimate whisper that made her cringe. Elizabeth could only respond by making a noise that could have been agreement or might have been something else entirely. He reached for her hand, and she neatly side-stepped out of his reach and hurried away from the dancers before he could claim her again.
She came to a halt when her mother stepped in front of her path.
“How well you and Mr Collins are getting on,” Mrs Bennet beamed. “He is most attentive to you. I am pleased to see you accepting his attentions. You look so well together, you know.”
Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder to see Mr Collins holding a glass of punch, the contents of which had spilt down his shirt. He grabbed the nearest piece of material to dab at it. Unfortunately, it just happened to be a piece of a lady’s gown. He stammered apologies when he realised what he had done. The lady pulled herself free, almost taking him with her. He jumped to his feet at once and looked around casually as if nothing were amiss, trying to look as respectable as a man could with punch over his shirt and dribbling down his chin.
Elizabeth turned back to her mother, who continued to beam.
“It will be a glorious match, will it not? Not as fine as Jane’s and Mr Bingley’s but I daresay it will do very well for you. Now, the best thing you can do is to dance with him again. Do not allow any other woman to sink her claws into him. That Charlotte Lucas has always been out for what she can get. If she thinks she has a chance to become mistress of Longbourn after your father is gone, she will take it in a moment. Mr Collins is not a man who will remain unattached for long.”
Behind her, Elizabeth heard a glass breaking, followed by Mr Collins’s breathless apologies.
“Excuse me, Mama. I believe I see someone I wish to speak to,” she said hastily. She stepped around her mother and escaped to the other side of the room.
Chapter 3
Captain Denny, one of Wickham’s fellow soldiers, bowed to her. Elizabeth’s face lit up. Now she would know where Wickham was or how soon he would be there. If she could only keep herself free from Mr Collins for that long, she would have the enjoyment of Wickham’s company for the rest of the evening.
“Wickham has asked me to convey his apologies,” said Denny. “He was eager to attend but decided against it. He claims he has other business to attend to, but I suspect he would not have done so if he were not afraid of unpleasant scenes arising due to the presence of a certain gentleman.”
Denny moved to one side so Elizabeth could see Mr Darcy. He had resumed his prowling about the room. She looked back at Denny as he glanced in her direction.
“I see.”
“I know he was very disappointed. He spoke particularly of you and how much he hoped you would dance with him. I believe it was a great sacrifice for him to stay away. He would not have done so if he were not thinking of everyone else. I suspect he did not wish to embarrass Mr Bingley if Mr Darcy objected to his presence.”
Elizabeth nodded. That was just like Wickham. He had the generosity of spirit to think of others, unlike another man she could name. It was unfair that he should be the one forced to stay away due to another’s ill nature.
“He has told you of his experiences with Mr Darcy, then?” she said.
Denny took a long sip at his punch as he looked over at that gentleman.
“He did. I wonder how anyone can think well of a man who would deprive his childhood friend of the living set aside for him. I am surprised Mr Bingley is so deceived in him. He seems a pleasant man. None of us can find a bad word to say against Wickham.”
Elizabeth smiled. “It says a lot about Mr Darcy’s character that he could wound a man so universally liked. And it speaks volumes of Mr Wickham’s that he can be so pleasant and cheerful and good even though he has been wronged. I am not sure I could have done it. I think I could not bring myself to be pleasant to the person who had treated me that way.”
Denny nodded in agreement and was about to say more when Kitty and Lydia, Elizabeth’s youngest sisters, bounded over to claim Denny for a game they were playing. Elizabeth declined to join them. She had spotted her particular friend, Charlotte Lucas, in the crowd and looked forward to venting her feelings about Mr Darcy and how he ruined Wickham’s life, her night, and every single thing he touched.
“Be careful, Lizzy,” said Charlotte after Elizabeth had explained to her how Mr Darcy was the most wicked and irredeemable man who had ever lived. “Remember, you do not know all the particulars. You only know Mr Wickham’s side of the story. If he feels wronged, he will naturally portray himself as the victim and Mr Darcy as the villain. I would not be surprised if Mr Darcy’s story were very different.”
“We cannot assume his story would be the correct one,” said Elizabeth with spirit. “Mr Wickham has no reason to lie. Besides, he gave me all the details; names, facts, everything he could have offered to show the truth of his words. Mr Darcy has every reason to lie. Besides, look at what we know of their characters. Mr Wickham is pleasant and kind and thoughtful. Mr Darcy is arrogant and completely unfeeling towards others. I think I know who I am more likely to believe. I would not give any credence to the words of a hateful, arrogant man who— “
“Lizzy!” Charlotte’s voice was sharp with a note of warning she could not fail to notice.
“What is it — Oh! Mr Darcy.”
Elizabeth dropped a curtsy, her face burning to think he might have overheard her. Not that she cared if he knew what he thought of her. But it might be considered an act of impropriety that would embarrass Jane and Mr Bingley.
“If you are not otherwise engaged, will you do me the honour of dancing the next with me?” he asked in that clipped way of his.
Elizabeth was so astonished her mind went blank. She frantically cast around for an excuse but could find none and was forced to agree. Mr Darcy bowed then strode away.
“Be careful,“ said Charlotte as Elizabeth cursed her stupidity in not being able to find an excuse. “You would be a simpleton if you allow your infatuation with Wickham to lead you to slight a man of Mr Darcy’s consequence. Elizabeth made a face at her old friend and seriously contemplated escaping the ballroom before the music started, and Darcy returned to claim her.
The dance was as painful and tedious as Elizabeth had anticipated. As she looked up at Darcy’s grim, impassive features, she thought she might as well have been dancing with one of the statues in the Netherfield gallery.
“Do you have nothing to say, Mr Darcy?” she asked. “It will be a long half an hour if we move about in silence. Come, you can at least comment on the number of couples. I will make an observation on the dance. It will not be so painful.”
“You talk by rule when you are dancing?” asked Darcy.
“No. But in this case, I think it necessary. There are not two people here tonight with less to say to one another.”
Darcy frowned as he took her hands and moved her about in a circle.
“I should not have thought that. We stayed for a week together under this roof. I remember we had several lively conversations.”
“I do not recall there being many,” said Elizabeth. They switched sides to form a turn with their neighbouring couple. Darcy was frowning. Elizabeth wondered if she had displeased him and thought it a fine punishment for forcing her to stand up with him until they returned to their former position and he spoke again.
“What are you reading at the moment? You must have missed your own books when you stayed with us.”
“Oh, I cannot talk about books in a ballroom. My head is always full of something else.” Her eyes wandered passed him to sweep the ballroom again, hoping Wickham might have changed his mind and joined them, anyway. A few hours in his company would more than make amends for the trial of enduring Mr Darcy and Mr Collins. The thought if Wickham called her attention to something else. “When you met us in Meryton last week, we had just been forming a new acquaintance.” She observed Darcy carefully.
His face tightened into a grimace. “Wickham has the happy manners that can make him friends in a moment. Whether he can keep them is less certain.”
“I am sure not keeping your friendship has cost him greatly.”
Darcy’s eyes narrowed. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and Elizabeth knew she had found her mark. Before he responded, they were interrupted by Sir William Lucas. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together.
“May I say how pleased I am to see such superior dancing? I have rarely seen anything so fine apart from at St James’s court. And if I may say, sir, your fair partner does not disgrace you. I am sure you will have many opportunities to dance together when a certain desirable event takes place…” He turned with a grin toward Jane and Bingley who were sitting close together, as engrossed in one another as ever. Elizabeth turned from them with a smile to see Darcy still observed them, his eyes grave.
“Well, I shall leave you. This gentleman will not thank me for keeping him from such a fair companion.” Sir William beamed at them and hurried away.
Darcy continued to stare at Jane and Bingley for another moment before he turned back to Elizabeth.
“I cannot recall what we were speaking of.”
“Nothing of significance. Mr Darcy, I recall you saying once that your temper is resentful and your good opinion once lost is lost forever.”
Darcy nodded.
“You are careful then, about allowing your resentment to be created in the first place? You are cautious in deciding your opinion of someone?”
“I am. May I ask what is the purpose of these questions?”
Elizabeth smiled. “I am merely trying to make out your character. I told you it is a study of mine. I hear such different accounts of you as to puzzle me exceedingly.”
The music ended. Mr Darcy bowed to her then took her hand to lead her away.
“We do not know one another so well,” he said. “I must ask that you do not try to make out my character right now. I am afraid the performance would not reflect well on either of us.”
“But if I do not do so now, I may never have another opportunity.”
Darcy’s face was cold. “I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours.” With a curt bow, he turned away.
Elizabeth watched as Mr Darcy strode away. She glared at his broad back as he cut through the crowd with ease, everyone making way for him and more than one lady casting admiring glances his way as he passed. He might have disgusted Meryton with his pride, but few would not be prepared to overlook that for a chance at a wealthy, handsome husband who owned half of Derbyshire. But Elizabeth was not one of them. She could imagine nothing more unpleasant than a life as the wife of that man.
Well, perhaps she could imagine one thing more unpleasant. As the dancers dispersed, Mr Collins appeared before her with that same affected look of love-sickness she suspected he had practised in a mirror. Someone had given him a clean shirt. The sleeves extended passed his hands, giving him the look of a boy who had gone wild in his father’s dressing room. His face was shiny and red with sweat, and he mopped at his face with his hands as he moved toward her.
“Dearest Cousin Elizabeth. You do not realise how it affects me to see you —“
“I think Father is wanting you, sir,” said Elizabeth quickly. “I am almost certain he is raising his hand to summon you. Look, over there. I am sure he wishes to introduce you as the future master of Longbourn. You will be a very important man in this neighbourhood in the future, you know.”
For all his love, Mr Collins was diverted by such a thought.
“Does he indeed?” He preened and smiled. “I certainly cannot refuse a summons from my generous host. I will go to him if you consent to release me, my fair cousin?” He reached for her hand. Elizabeth stepped back and smiled at him.
“With all my heart, sir,” she said with enthusiasm.
After enduring several more bows from Mr Collins, and multiple apologies for leaving her side though he had every intention of remaining with her for the evening, and after many promises he would return to her as soon as he had done his duty to his host, he finally left. Elizabeth smiled when she saw the alarm on her father’s face as Mr Collins bore down on him. She could not feel too much for him. Elizabeth had already endured the worst of Mr Collins’s company that evening. Some
one else in her family could take a turn.
But Mr Collins would not stay there for long. Mr Bennet would soon send him on his way again, and he would return to attach himself to her side. Jane and Mr Bingley were still as consumed by one another as ever. Charlotte was dancing with an officer. Wickham was not there. There was no one there whose company was free to protect her from the attention of her cousin. She looked about the room. No one paid her any consideration apart from Mr Darcy who had taken up residence against a pillar and whose eyes seemed to wander frequently in her direction, doubtless because something about her appearance displeased him. She saw Miss Bingley, Mr Bingley’s unpleasant sister, walk toward her with a triumphant smile on her lips. Elizabeth did not feel she could endure another moment’s conversation with someone she disliked. She turned away as though she had not seen her and disappeared into the crowd.
The hall outside the ballroom was filled with people milling about. Elizabeth walked briskly through the hall, not stopping to speak with anyone. She had stayed for a few days at Netherfield when her sister had been ill, and she knew her way around the house. The library would provide her with a perfect refuge from undesirable company.
Chapter 4
Only a small candle burned in the library. Elizabeth used it to light several more, then sank into the leather chair with relief. She lay her head back against the chair and stared at the ceiling, relishing the feeling in being alone with no one to irritate her. It was a long, tiresome evening, and her own hopes had been destroyed, but she would endure it as best she could for Jane’s sake. A night like this could do much to promote a union between Jane and Bingley. Dear, sweet Jane deserved happiness with a good man who loved her. Some time alone would allow Elizabeth to gather her thoughts before she had to rejoin the fray.
Follies and Vices Page 2