Chapter 12

The Ball

W ith the help of her friends, Elizabeth managed to avoid both Jane and Mr. Greene for most of the next ten days. The weather cooperated, allowing Elizabeth to take many walks and to visit Miss Lucas, Miss Goulding, and Miss King in turns. Of course, she was forced to spend some time with her sister and the minister. Breakfasts and suppers were a trial. Jane would smile sweetly when Mr. Greene seated himself too close to Elizabeth’s chair. “How good you are to my sister, sir,” she said night after night. It was such a predictable comment, as was Mrs. Annesley’s moue of distaste, that Elizabeth set wagers with herself on how quickly it would come at each meal.

One evening, Mr. Greene declared, “I believe, I shall write to Lady Catherine. I seek to learn her opinions of a second dance with one’s intended.”

Elizabeth nearly choked on the piece of juicy quail in her mouth. “Intended? Are you engaged, sir?”

Mr. Greene offered her a toothy smile. “Not yet, my dear, but soon.” He patted her arm and Elizabeth repressed her desire to stab his fat fingers with her fork. “I have thought further about Mr. Darcy’s advice. And thought I do not doubt the veracity of his comments, I believe Lady Catherine would not be opposed to a gentleman dancing twice with his intended. I plan to write her to confirm.”

Thinking quickly, Elizabeth asked, “What if she is averse to the idea? Would your letter not expose you as wishing to thwart her wishes?

“Elizabeth has a good point, my friend. You must not write to the lady about this. I would not like to see you on the receiving end of Lady Catherine’s displeasure.” Mr. Collins spoke around a mouthful of quail. Normally Elizabeth would have been appalled, but on this occasion, she was only glad for his support.

Mr. Greene’s continued presence at Longbourn was particularly hard to endure during the four days after the twenty-second, the date he had originally planned to depart. Any irritation that drags on past its due date only intensifies. But even as the days seemed to stretch endlessly, the twenty-sixth of November eventually arrived.

“How well you look, Elizabeth.” Jane reached out and fingered the plaited silk on Elizabeth’s sleeve, silently assessing the cost of the material.

Elizabeth had come to know Jane better in the past four weeks. Though she was not a terrible person, she was spoiled and disliked anyone receiving attention that she felt was her due. Her sister could be unkind when she felt she was not in the spotlight. Elizabeth had prepared herself for a difficult evening. She knew her dress was of a finer quality than Jane could afford, and being a single lady, she would receive more offers to dance than her sister would. She waited for Jane’s commentary to turn sour, as it often did in moments like this.

“Although anyone dressed so fine would look so well.”

There it is. But Elizabeth could not say so aloud. Her mother would be appalled if Elizabeth were to break etiquette, even with a mean-mouthed sister.

Schooling her face, Elizabeth replied. “Thank you, Jane. You also look well. That is a perfect color for you.” Jane wore a soft blue gown that perfectly matched the lightness of her eyes. Elizabeth’s own gown was a deeper hue of the same color. It did not perfectly match the navy that rimmed her own blue eyes, but it was as close as a young maiden could wear.

The ladies waited in silence for the gentlemen to join them. Both Mr. Collins and his friend had clearly invested considerable time in their appearance, though the results were far from impressive. Each man had liberally applied hair grease, creating a slick, oily sheen that only accentuated their rumpled appearance. Their efforts did little to improve their look, with their ill-fitting, slightly outdated clothes adding to the overall lackluster effect. Elizabeth could not help but worry that, under the heat of the crowded ballroom, the grease might begin to run into each man’s eyes.

“My dear, we must hurry, else we will be late,” Mr. Collins called as he rushed down the stairs. Jane’s demeanor remained unperturbed.

“As you say, husband.” Taking his arm, she added, “I look forward to our dance this evening.” Mr. Collins strutted as he escorted his wife to the waiting carriage.

When the party finally arrived at Netherfield, the ballroom was already full, and the musicians were beginning the first strains of music. “I had worried you abandoned me.” Mr. Bingley held his arm aloft. Elizabeth gently placed her hand in the crook of his arm and allowed him to escort her to the head of the line. When the dance ended, he escorted her back to her friends who stood with Miss Bingley.

“You look quite fine, tonight.” Miss Goulding pulled Elizabeth into the circle of ladies. Elizabeth thanked her friend and greeted everyone else.

Miss Bingley eyed the cut of Elizabeth’s dress. “Your gown is quite nice. Pray tell, which Cheapside seamstress do you use? I believe her talents are wasted in that part of town.”

Elizabeth hid a smile. “Madame Etienne created this one.”

“Madame Etienne! You do love to tease, Eliza.” Miss Bingley’s eyes traveled down the length of Elizabeth’s gown and up again.

“I do enjoy teasing, Miss Bingley, but in this I am completely serious. Madame Etienne made most of my gowns this past year. My friend, Suzy, introduced us.” Miss Bingley’s mouth tightened in displeasure, but she said no more.

Soon the party was joined by Miss Lucas’ younger brother, Mr. John Lucas, who collected Elizabeth for their dance. The steps were fast-paced, allowing little time for discussion. Skipping down the line, Elizabeth caught sight of Mr. Darcy. He partnered Miss Bingley and looked quite miserable by the situation.

Elizabeth was thankful for the many repetitions her dance master had required, for it was only her superior knowledge of the steps that allowed her to continue without bumping into anyone. She was captivated by the gentleman five spaces up the line. The bright white of his cravat and shirt accentuated the subtle tan on his cheeks. His long, lean build and broad shoulders were emphasized by the cut of his jacket. She had long wished to touch his shoulders and find out if they were padded, though she suspected they were not. Elizabeth had always found him to be handsome, but in his formal wear, he was nearly irresistible. She very much looked forward to their dance.

Do not be a dunderhead, Lizzy. Mr. Darcy may flirt and dance with you, but you cannot expect to marry such a man, no matter how grand your portion. Though she disagreed with Jane on the type of gentleman she could attract, Elizabeth was not unaware of her status among the ton. Her father may have moved the family to Brook Street, but that did not change the fact that he was a tradesman. She was welcome to visit the finest parlors in London, but that did not mean she would be welcomed into the family rooms of those same homes.

During the season, several gentlemen had paid court to her. A baron had called on her, as well. But all had pockets to let, and her papa had chased each man away. Darcy was reputed to be among the wealthiest men in England. That fact, combined with his connections to the Earl of Matlock meant he would likely offer for a society lady. Someone like Suzy . Elizabeth was discomfited by the thought.

∞∞∞

“I believe this is our dance.” Darcy had endured the entire evening with barely concealed impatience, his gaze never straying far from Elizabeth. At last, it was his turn to stand across from her, to bask in the light of her bright eyes and the charm of her playful smiles.

As she took his arm, a thrill ran through him, the softness of her touch a stark contrast to the clawing grip of Miss Bingley. He could not help but savor the difference, every moment in her presence heightening his longing.

The dance began, and as the movement drew her toward him, Elizabeth’s teasing voice reached his ears. “I hope, sir, that you have thought of at least three topics to discuss during our dance. I have warned you before about staying silent.”

She moved away with the flow of the dance, and Darcy’s heart nearly propelled him to follow her. I love her. The realization struck him with the force of inevitability. He had fought and denied it, but there was no use anymore. He could do nothing about it, but even admitting it to himself brought a bittersweet relief.

The dance brought them together again. “Would you like to discuss horses?”

She laughed, a light melodic sound that paired perfectly with the orchestra. “Horses? At a ball? No, no, sir. I know you can do better.”

He chuckled. “I suppose it is a poor choice of conversation for a dance. What about books?”

Her eyes sparkled. “I would not normally wish to discuss books while dancing, but it is better than talking about horseflesh.”

Though it was difficult to carry on a conversation while moving together and apart, Darcy thought it the most pleasant partnering he had ever experienced. The topic continued through supper until everyone assembled was disturbed by the tapping of a knife upon the crystal. Mr. Collins stood to address the room and Elizabeth groaned.

“I would like to thank Mr. Bingley for hosting this ball, and for serving such excellent food. It has been many years since I have tasted such a fine meal.” Mr. Bingley graciously accepted the praise. Mr. Collins continued. “As many of you know, tomorrow my friend, Mr. Greene, will return to his home in Hunsford. In honor of him, I would like to sing a song I prepared for the occasion.”

“No, no, no.” Elizabeth’s voice barely registered.

Mr. Collins took a moment to warm up his voice with a series of trills. He then loudly began his newest song, which to the surprise of no one in the room, was set to the tune of Greensleeves.

My friend, Greene, you leave too soon,

We’ll resort to letters from one another.

But I am consoled in knowing that,

We’ll soon be as close as brothers.

“At least it rhymes,” Darcy said under his breath.

“Yes, that is something, at least.”

You will marry Elizabeth,

And she will be happy as my Jane.

She will make you a splendid bride,

And you will honor her Bennet name.

Before Mr. Collins could begin his second verse, an embarrassed Bingley stood and began to clap. The rest of the party tentatively joined in. “Excellent rhyming, sir, but I believe I hear the musicians starting up.”

Darcy turned to look at Elizabeth. Her cheeks were pink with humiliation, but her eyes were dry. Any other lady would have crumbled at such an embarrassing scene, but not his Elizabeth. When had he begun to think of her as his Elizabeth? He dismissed the worrisome thought. I can contemplate that later, he silently told himself.

Standing, he helped pull her seat out from the table. “It seems we are to begin dancing sooner than I anticipated. I have enjoyed our time together.”

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I, too, have appreciated our dance and conversation.” He led her back to the ballroom and helped her find her friends. Miss Goulding pulled her tight. “You poor thing,” he heard the lady murmur as he walked away.

∞∞∞

Darcy was too disturbed by his feelings for Elizabeth and his irritation with Mr. Collins to consider finding a dance partner. He had taken to the floor four times already. Surely Bingley would be pleased with his participation and not harangue him further. Seeking a moment of privacy to collect himself, he stepped behind a large plant.

“Your song was excellent, my friend.”

“I write what I see, and any fool can tell that you and Elizabeth are meant for one another.” The voices of Messrs. Greene and Collins rang out from the other side of the plant. Darcy cocked his head to better hear their conversation.

“I plan to ask her tonight while we are dancing. I have thought about it, and I believe it will be the most romantic possibility.”

“She will say no,” a lighter, more feminine voice added. “She has told me so herself.”

“Nonsense, Jane. She would be a fool to refuse my friend.”

She would be a fool to accept him, Darcy thought.

“It would be foolish, but that will not stop my sister. My mother has always insisted she was obstinate, and she is correct. Elizabeth will tell him no.”

“Then he will simply have to force her. It will be in her best interest.” Darcy’s hand clenched upon hearing Mr. Collins’ appalling words.

“Force her? I do not understand?” Mr. Greene’s whiny voice rang out. They had moved closer to the plant and Darcy held his breath, fearing they might find him lurking.

“Compromise her.” Mr. Collins said with dramatic flair. “During the dance, you will stumble forward. Knock her down, if you must. Just make sure that the event is witnessed. I do not like to cause gossip, but this is Elizabeth’s only chance to wed a gentleman.”

Darcy had heard enough. He was about to step out and strangle both men when Mrs. Collins’ voice stopped him. “I do not like to do this to her, but she is my sister. As the elder, I must have her best interests at heart. Therefore, I must tell you, sir, you must not simply trip onto her. You must thoroughly ruin her. If you pull at her gown, just so, it should rip apart. She will be angry at first, but she will thank you for it later.”

The strains of music began, forcing the trio apart as they went to seek their dance partners. Darcy left his hiding spot and headed straight for Elizabeth. She stood alone and smiled as she saw him draw near.

“Pretend I have stepped on your foot and fall backwards. Trust me.” His voice was urgent, laced with an intensity that left no room for doubt. Darcy then stepped forward and gently, but firmly, pushed her backwards. Her eyes widened in confusion, but she obeyed, trusting him despite her uncertainty.

“Oh!” she gasped as she landed softly on the floor, the sound of her surprise cutting through the murmur of the crowd.

“Miss Gardiner!” Darcy quickly crouched in front of her, his expression one of genuine concern as the crowd’s attention shifted toward them. “I apologize, madame, for my clumsiness.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered, “Pretend as though I have injured your ankle.”

“My ankle,” she whimpered softly, playing her part.

“May I?” he asked, his voice thick with concern, though he didn’t wait for her answer. His hand closed gently around her ankle, the warmth of her skin through the fabric sending a jolt through him. The small gasp she let out at his touch resonated deep within him, stirring something raw and unexpected. He pretended to check for a break, but his focus was entirely on her—the soft rise and fall of her chest, the way her eyes met his. He mentally shook himself from his trance.

Remembering himself, Darcy leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “I have just overheard your sister, Collins, and Greene in conversation. They have conspired together. Mr. Greene intends to compromise you during your dance. Your sister told him you would not accept his offer and suggested this was his only chance.”

“Jane?” Elizabeth’s voice trembled, and real tears welled in her eyes. Darcy’s heart twisted at the sight, wishing fervently that those tears were from a simple injury. That pain would heal quickly, unlike the deeper wound she now bore.

“I am sorry to disappoint you,” Darcy murmured, his voice filled with regret, “but you must not dance with him this evening. In fact, you should not even return with them to Longbourn.” Elizabeth nodded, her face a mixture of sorrow and determination.

Several revelers had started to move closer. Sir William Lucas called out, “Miss Gardiner, are you injured?”

Raising his voice so that others nearby could hear, Darcy said, “She has turned her ankle.” Turning back to Elizabeth, he said, “Allow me to take you to a room. I will have Bingley call for the apothecary.” Before she could respond, he scooped her into his arms with a firm yet gentle resolve, carrying her from the room. The sweet scent of flowers, jasmine he believed, reached his nose, stirring something deep within him. Though he told himself his actions were purely protective, the knowing glances from others suggested otherwise.

“Mr. Darcy, a footman can carry her.” Miss Bingley called from behind them, but Darcy ignored her, his focus entirely on Elizabeth.

“Sir, if you wait, I will have the carriage called round. There is no need for her to stay here.”

At the sound of Mrs. Collins’ voice, he instinctively held Elizabeth more firmly to his chest. To his surprise, she leaned her head into the crook of his neck, as though seeking comfort in his embrace. The gesture, so intimate and trusting, nearly made him falter.

“Mrs. Collins, I seem to recall that you stayed here for four nights with a wounded knee. Would you deny the same for your injured sister?”

Mrs. Phillips stood beside her daughter. “That is hardly the same, sir. My Jane has a very delicate constitution, as all gentlemen’s wives do. Elizabeth is naught but a tradesman’s daughter. She is accustomed to more practical solutions.”

Seeing the sour looks directed at her from the people who had spilled out into the hall, Mrs. Collins paled. “Mother, Mr. Darcy is correct. I wish only for Elizabeth to be well.” Darcy gave a curt nod and then continued to carry Elizabeth up the stairs. Bingley and Mrs. Annesley followed behind. When they were alone, Darcy shared what he had heard in the ballroom.

Mrs. Annesley placed a comforting hand on her charge’s shoulder. “That settles it, you must stay here tonight, Miss Gardiner. I will send Howes to Longbourn to inform Milly. She will pack your things.” Turning to Bingley, she continued. “May I request that we stay here until her father can be reached to send a carriage for her.”

“Nonsense, we will take her to London ourselves. Darcy wishes to see his sister, and my own sister misses the thrills of town. We can be prepared to leave before noon tomorrow, if that will suit.” Mrs. Annesley agreed that it did.