Chapter 13

T oo embarrassed to speak, Elizabeth avoided looking at Mr Darcy and Lord Matlock.

"Forgive me, I need some fresh air," Elizabeth said agitatedly. She was in a hurry to leave, but Mr Darcy grasped her arm gently.

"Miss Elizabeth, it is cold. Perhaps you would like to try the library. We opened a window in there moments ago."

"Oh…yes, thank you, I shall go there."

She walked away from them, following Mr Darcy's suggestion. Entering the room, she sat on the sofa, wiping a tear from her eye. As much as she loved her mother, she could hardly bear the constant embarrassment she caused, which Mrs Bennet refused to even admit.

As Mr Darcy had said, the window was wide open, and the winter air chilled the room, fighting with the fire burning in the hearth. She breathed deeply so the fresh, cold air filled her. How considerate of Mr Darcy to suggest the library; such small gestures indicated that the recent changes in his manners were real.

She was trying to compose herself when she heard the door open, which irritated her even more. She was in no disposition for company.

"Lizzy dear, are you well?" Jane's gentle whisper made her smile.

"I am very well. Just angry with Mama. Upon my word, sometimes I wish I could leave home and stay away for years. I am tired of her blunders embarrassing us."

"She means well, Lizzy. She wishes the best for us."

"I know she does, but she cannot understand what the best means, nor the significance of decorum. Fortunately, Mr Bingley is too charmed by you to notice Mama's words and actions. But his sisters surely observed it, as well as Mr Darcy. And she kept saying those silly things about me and Mr Collins, and Lord Matlock and Mr Darcy heard. Can you imagine how embarrassed I am?"

"Oh, Lizzy…"

"It is the truth, Jane. Mama is unreasonable. I am sorry if that hurts you."

"It hurts me more to see your distress, Lizzy," Jane replied, embracing her.

They sat in silence for a little while until Elizabeth calmed herself. Footsteps interrupted them again, and a man cleared his throat in the hall. Then there was a knock, and Mr Bingley entered, followed by Mr Darcy.

"Miss Bennet? Miss Elizabeth? Are you unwell?"

"We are well, Mr Bingley. I thank you for your concern, sir," Elizabeth replied, offering a smile. "I just needed to rest, and Jane kept me company."

"Oh, I see. I am glad to hear that. Darcy told me you were here… I should close the window. It is already very cold in here."

He did so, and Jane thanked him.

"Will you…do you wish to return to the ballroom now?"

"Yes, we should. Soon. But please do not worry about me. I am sure you have other things to take care of," Elizabeth answered.

"I do… In fact, not really… Well…" Mr Bingley mumbled, glancing at Mr Darcy. Elizabeth watched them, puzzled.

"Miss Elizabeth," Mr Darcy suddenly interjected, "before you return to the party, would you be so kind as to allow me a few minutes of your time? There is something of great importance I wish to tell you."

The request surprised and disconcerted Elizabeth. Her cheeks were warm, while a chill ran through her body. What could he have to say that was so important as to request a private interview during a ball? His voice was serious, but there was a twinkle in his eyes that puzzled and distressed her even more.

"Of course…if it is important."

"Thank you. Would you be so kind as to come out into the hall for a moment? Bingley, would you and Miss Bennet mind waiting here for a short while?"

Now, Elizabeth's bewilderment was complete. She was tempted to refuse; his request was strange, bold, and improper. What could he possibly have to say that could not be delayed? There was only one subject she could think of. In truth, there were two, but one of them was inconceivable, and she dismissed it immediately and concluded it must be related to Mr Wickham.

Once out in the hall, Mr Darcy closed the library door. Now they were alone, exposed to the view of anyone who happened to pass by. From the ballroom, a din of voices and music shook the house.

He stepped closer until he was only a few inches away. She leant against the wall, intoxicated by the scent of him, embarrassed by her silly response. She had stood close to other men at balls and parties enough times, yet she had never even noticed any particular smell.

"Miss Elizabeth, I apologise for my little charade. As soon as he heard you and Miss Bennet were in the library, Bingley begged me to help him have a private moment with your sister. He was desperate that he might not have the chance to speak to her before we left for London."

He smiled, whispering to her, and she felt warmer and warmer, barely capable of understanding his words.

"Oh…" she whispered back.

"I hope Miss Bennet will not find Bingley's gesture upsetting, or my involvement in his little scheme."

"She might be surprised but certainly not upset," Elizabeth answered. Her eyes dared to lock with his, and his gaze was more intoxicating than his scent.

"I do not entirely approve of Bingley's haste, considering the importance of his address. Such a moment should be more carefully prepared," he said.

"Perhaps…but if the impatience is genuine and the address is soundly grounded, there should be no need for such preparations."

"Then Bingley was right, and I was wrong again," he admitted with a little smile.

"It seems that, even when you are wrong, you are trying to be helpful, Mr Darcy. I believe that should be the definition of a true friend."

"Your answer pleases me exceedingly, Miss Elizabeth."

"I hoped it would, as it was meant that way. I appreciate your loyalty to Mr Bingley and your concern for his happiness. I know a while ago you did not approve of his admiration for my sister. I presume you still have some objections, but you respected Mr Bingley's decision, and that is commendable."

"My objections were clarified in a discussion with my uncle. He has a very efficient — though brutal at times — way of forcing people to admit things they are trying to overlook or to conceal."

"So if Lord Matlock had not come to Netherfield, or he had not been a friend of Papa's, we would have had to bear the same proud, arrogant, and haughty Mr Darcy?" Her words were harsh, but she tried to keep her tone light and was glad that his smile remained.

"Probably, at least for a while. I imagine something would have happened, and I would have still seen the truth eventually."

"About Mr Bingley and my sister?"

"Yes. And about myself," he admitted hoarsely.

Finally, the library door opened, and a couple glowing with happiness appeared.

Mr Bingley's grin covered his entire face. "Miss Elizabeth, are you engaged for the next set?"

"I am not," she answered, puzzled and amused.

"Then, will you dance it with me, please? There is something I must tell you. Darcy, will you dance with Jane, please? I mean, Miss Bennet? We shall tell you what we discussed. We cannot tell anyone else tonight. I shall talk to Mr Bennet tomorrow morning."

He paused, catching his breath, then added, "Oh, by the by, I proposed to Miss Bennet, and she accepted me! We are engaged. But nobody knows!"

"Yes, we assumed as much!" Mr Darcy laughed. "You two might need another moment to compose yourselves. Bingley, we should go on ahead, and Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth can follow us shortly."

"Yes, yes, that is a wonderful idea."

"Oh, I am sorry!" Jane said. "I forgot that I am already engaged to dance with Mr Collins! I am so sorry!"

"There is no need to be sorry, Miss Bennet. I am sure Bingley will inform me of everything I need to know," Mr Darcy replied. "Congratulations, Miss Bennet. Congratulations, Bingley."

"Thank you, Mr Darcy," Jane whispered, curtseying to him. Mr Darcy bowed, then took her hand and brought it to his lips in a formal respectful gesture.

When the two gentlemen had gone, Jane embraced Elizabeth tightly.

"Dear Lizzy, I cannot believe what has happened! He proposed! I have never imagined so much happiness! I am so happy that I think I could fly! He said he wished to propose tonight to be sure everything is settled when he goes to London. He said he wished to purchase a licence so we could marry whenever I wanted. Oh, dear Lizzy, I am not sure whether I want to laugh or to cry!"

"I would strongly advise you to calm down first." Elizabeth laughed, feeling happy tears welling in her eyes. "Do not forget you must dance with Mr Collins, and it would not do to miss the steps."

"Oh, my dear, dear Lizzy! I would give anything for you to feel the same happiness! If only there was another man as good as Mr Bingley to fall in love with you!"

"Dearest, I am not as good or as sweet as you, so I surely shall not find a man like Mr Bingley and shall certainly not feel the same sort of happiness. Let me arrange your hair, and then we should return to the party."

"Lizzy, I am so grateful to Mr Darcy. He was so kind and generous, and he helped us have this short encounter!"

"I am grateful to him too, Jane, if only for the reason that he allowed you to feel this felicity."

They finally returned to the ballroom; Mrs Bennet was talking to Mrs Phillips, and Mr Bennet was enjoying a drink and some conversation with Lord Matlock, Colonel Forster, and Sir William. Mr Collins was near them, apparently eavesdropping.

The music resumed, and the pairs prepared for the set. Mr Bingley took Elizabeth's hand, while Jane stood up with Mr Collins.

Throughout the set, Mr Bingley chattered to Elizabeth with the same grin on his face, while his sisters gazed at them with apparent disapproval.

Mr Darcy stood with the earl and Mr Bennet, and Elizabeth's eyes met his rather often.

After that set, Elizabeth danced every other, and so did Jane. Mr Darcy asked Mr Bingley's sisters to dance, and then Jane.

At supper, Mr Bingley sat next to his betrothed, and Elizabeth sat between Jane and Mary, opposite Mr Darcy, the earl, and her father. The conversation was friendly, even familiar, and Elizabeth exchanged repeated glances with Mr Darcy. The food was served, and afterwards, the ball continued. Eventually, towards the end of the evening, Mr Collins finally asked Elizabeth to dance. She accepted with little expectation of pleasure but with forced politeness. He seemed to have every intention of maintaining an amicable relationship between them.

When the set began, Elizabeth realised he was as clumsy and graceless at dancing as he was at everything else.

He directed his attention to his steps for a while, then said, "Dear cousin Elizabeth, I am happy we had the chance to dance before my return to Rosings. I believe this is the last set but one, and the ball will soon be over. I shall leave the day after tomorrow."

"I wish you a pleasant journey back to Kent, sir. Please send my father a note when you arrive home safely."

"How kind of you to say that! I pray we shall meet again soon, in happy circumstances."

"I hope we shall, sir."

"As much as I enjoyed staying at Longbourn, I am anxious to be home soon, to return to my duties and especially to talk to Lady Catherine. I have dearly missed her guidance."

"How lovely!"

"Indeed! She will be surprised when I tell her about Mr Darcy and Lord Matlock. I am sure Miss de Bourgh will also be pleased to have news about Mr Darcy. After all, they have been engaged for more than twenty years and should be married soon — perhaps next year," the clergyman concluded.

Elizabeth's heart stopped, and a claw gripped her chest, preventing her from breathing. She stared at her partner, blinking repeatedly as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She felt dizzy, she missed a few steps, and her knees became weaker every moment.

Mr Darcy was engaged to be married to his cousin? And during all the conversations she had had with him and Lord Matlock, neither of them had shown her the consideration to give her that piece of information? But in the end, why would they? She meant nothing to them, except that she happened to be the daughter of Lord Matlock's old friend.

The fact that she had foolishly assumed more and imagined the impossible was not their fault or their concern.

The dance with Mr Collins seemed longer than the others and as painful as torture. She felt relieved when it finally ended so she could go back to the library. Once there, she locked the door. She willed herself not to cry, to conquer her unreasonable and silly torment. She was a simpleton to imagine that Mr Darcy might have serious designs on her and might wish to marry her. Even if he was not engaged to his cousin, someone like him would not marry someone so far below him, just as Lord Matlock had not remained friends with Mr Bennet because his situation in life and his family were opposed to it.

She had to endure her disappointment, and there was nobody but herself to blame for it.