The Ball

The Ball

Fitzwilliam Darcy had no idea whether to be satisfied or frustrated.

On the one hand, he voluntarily stood in the receiving line at Bingley’s Netherfield ball, and for the first time in his life, he felt like he belonged. As if that were not amazing enough for ten men, he knew everybody. He bowed, shook hands (and occasionally kissed them), with everybody who came through. Even more astonishing, he knew some little thing to say to each, even though his comments might be the slightest bit more pedestrian for some than others.

On the other hand, he had been investigating like a manic Bow Street Runner for six weeks with nothing to show for it, except of course, the supreme benefit of having friends instead of people who thought him proud and above his company.

Bingley was within striking distance of an engagement with his angel, where Darcy had spent the previous fortnight familiarizing himself with the matrons of the area, just in case his angel was actually a mother who took pity on him. The theory with much to recommend it, at least for mothers not descended from the Fitzwilliam family.

He had just about decided it was time to give up his obviously misplaced pride and finally ask for help. Mr Bennet happened to be the next man in the line, so he was just about to ask him to confer privately, when his eye caught something to his left.

Darcy was struck dumb as a post by a vision of beauty who made him feel like he should jump for joy—for it became clear that there were FIVE Bennet daughters, not the four so meticulously documented in his notebook—and the one he did not know was stunning.

He quickly surmised the unknown lady must be the second-eldest, since she stood between Miss Bennet and Miss Mary. The unknown lady wore a yellow silk ballgown and a brilliant smile that he thought he could quite easily fall in love with, whether she was his angel or not. He quickly found her figure to be light and pleasin g, her manners engaging, her eyes the loveliest he had ever seen, and the fact that she was staring at him like an exhibit in the menagerie did her no real harm.

Mr Bennet refrained from laughing at him (almost), while Mrs Bennet refrained from calling him a clodpole, though she was smiling.

Miss Bennet, of course, did not even think of making sport of him, so she did the honours.

“Mr Darcy, I do not believe you ever met my next-younger sister, Elizabeth, and now that I think of it, I do not believe I ever even mentioned her—much to my chagrin. She left halfway through that first assembly, so I do not think you were even introduced.”

Darcy paid not the slightest attention to the fact that everyone in the room was watching the interaction with good-natured humour, and he bowed very properly. “Miss Elizabeth, I assure you, the pleasure is all mine.”

“Mr Darcy, your head seems better,” she replied in the voice he had been searching for, which caused his face to light up like a bonfire, quickly followed by hers. Naturally, nobody else had the vaguest idea what that was all about, but it seemed that everyone’s absolute conviction that Mr Darcy was not available for matrimony, might have been a bit premature. Everybody knew Mr Darcy as an amiable man, but nobody in the room had ever seen him act more Bingley than Bingley.

“An angel of mercy changed my life,” he said honestly.

He was smiling brighter than Bingley or Miss Bennet, but then he was abruptly hit by the most disturbing memory of his life.

As if being smote by a vengeful Norse god, he recalled what had preceded his rescue, and his face went white as he recalled the words, "She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. ”

He had never put together his slight and the subsequent rescue being the same person, and he felt particularly stupid for overlooking the possibility. It seemed Bingley had been entirely correct: he was standing around in a stupid manner. It had simply never occurred to him that such kindness could be triggered by such boorishness.

By then, the Bennet parents had moved along to the Bingleys, as had Miss Bennet, so Miss Elizabeth was standing in front of him, and his previously sunny expression clouded in mortification.

“None of that!” she stated emphatically, as if she recalled it herself.

He looked into her eyes, and she leaned close to whisper, “I have heard all about you, Mr Darcy, from a great number of my neighbours. Everything has worked out exactly as it should. I have been seeing to my aunt’s health in London, and if I may be so bold as to suggest, you have been working on your own right here. We have both been where we needed to be, doing what needed to be done.”

He knew they would have to speak about it and put the past behind them, but not in the middle of the receiving line with everyone behind Miss Elizabeth going around. They had unconsciously stepped back, so they were a good yard behind the rest of the line.

“I apologise most profusely for what preceded your act of mercy, Miss Elizabeth. Dare I ask for a set… perhaps, if I am very lucky, even your first , if I am to be forgiven.”

She laughed, and he thought things might just be all right in the end. Her laugh was magical, so very different from the calculated titter he was accustomed to in London—although he had been subject to plenty of frivolity in Hertfordshire in the previous six weeks, so London manners were almost entirely forgotten, and he was beginning to wonder if he would ever visit town again.

She smiled. “I dare say my mother would swoon right on the spot if I did not dance with you, and I most certainly cannot remain the only lady in the room who never has. We may as well get the miserable chore over with.”

His smile returned to what it had been when he first spotted her. Abandoning Bingley to his fate in the receiving line, he held out his hand to lead her to the refreshment table.

When they had their drinks, Darcy said, “May I offer my deepest, humblest, and most profound apologies. I am guardian to a young sister between Miss Lydia and Miss Catherine in age, and she would be devastated if someone subjected her to such a horrible assault.”

“You had a megrim, and no doubt Mr Bingley and his sister were vexing you considerably,” she replied evenly.

“Does that qualify as a valid excuse in your eyes? It most certainly does not in mine!”

She looked at him earnestly and gave him a frown stern enough to indicate she was not to be trifled with.

“It does not , and I most certainly will never again accept such with equanimity. My cheek-turning has its limits!

“To be honest, had I not been entirely distracted by the need to go to London to care for my aunt, I would have savaged your reputation without a single qualm. Everyone in this town would despise you instead of esteeming you, as they presently seem inclined to.

“Your words hurt , even for me, and I am tough as nails. I could name you a dozen who would have been nearly crippled by it—several of whom you have subsequently danced with. That said, you probably know by now that I hear that sort of thing often from my own mother… though, oddly enough, I have heard far less since my return.

He chuckled. “I may have something to do with that, but we can discuss that another time. I quite disliked your mother until I got to know her. Now I understand her better, though my tolerance for her promoting one daughter at the expense of others still has its limits. She even, on occasion, listens to my advice. ”

Elizabeth laughed. “Why Mr Darcy! Am I to believe you slayed the dragon?”

He laughed along with her. “Someday, I very much hope you will meet my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Aside from a courtesy title for being the daughter of an earl, she could pass for your mother’s twin.”

He neglected to mention that he hoped she would actually be her aunt when they were introduced, as that was a conversation for another day.

“I have heard a great deal about her from Mr Collins. He is my distant cousin, the heir to Longbourn, and her vicar.”

“Yes, another interesting connection. He seems to be courting Miss Mary. She does not seem averse to the idea, but I rarely have any idea what Miss Mary thinks about most things.”

“Neither do I, so it is good that I was absent. I think if I were here, Mama might have pointed him at me, mainly because I know more about estate management, and to be perfectly honest, I am the one she would most like married and… elsewhere.”

“A fortunate escape?”

“Oh, definitely!” she sighed happily. “However ambiguous Mary’s feelings might be, mine would have been very clear, and not the least bit favourable. Just the two days I have been in his company have been more than sufficient. With some men, a little goes a long way.”

He laughed, then sighed and continued.

“Despite your ready forgiveness, I do apologise and shall never repeat my error. I can say that I was on a very bad path, and your intervention diverted me to a much better one. You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased."

“You have done more than enough good in this neighbourhood to be welcome by one and all. If I had some small part in that, I am satisfied. ”

There was no telling how long they might have talked around in circles had the music for the first dance not begun.

It seemed fate decided the couple had endured enough awkward conversation for an initial meeting, because the first dance was a reel so fast it left very little time for conversation, thus allowing them to simply enjoy the pleasure of a dance well executed. (The fact that ‘fate’ was actually named Jane Bennet had no bearing on the matter). Both were excellent dancers, and both were aware of the fact within half a minute. They leapt, swirled, twirled, swayed, darted, and skipped through the dance with good natured laughing all around.

The dance came to an end, and by mutual agreement, they left the discussion of the assembly behind—perhaps for the nonce or perhaps forever. Time would tell.

Darcy was so happy to have found his angel he decided the obvious remedy was to let the entire assembly know how his reformation came about. It would be an amusing tale for the neighbours, and since they all knew Darcy so well, amusement would be had by one and all (with the obvious exceptions of the female Bingley portion of the crowd).

Naturally, he asked Miss Elizabeth if she was amenable to the plan and received a laugh in return. He was too lazy to spend the evening spreading the story, so they simply told Mrs Bennet and Lady Lucas and considered the task complete.

Of course, Darcy had engaged in every dance since the last half of the Meryton assembly, so that evening was no exception. He was already engaged with Miss Drake for the second, and since that involved Miss Lydia serving as her cane, he considered his dance with the youngest Bennet satisfied as well.

Miss Lucas and Miss Melody Goulding brought him up to the supper set. Since he knew and liked both ladies quite well by then, and neither entertained any ambitions for themselves, both spent much of the dance telling him about Elizabeth, since his attentions to her had not exactly been subtle— a pattern that would continue through the evening for both members of the unacknowledged couple.

Before the second dance, he had screwed his courage up to ask Miss Elizabeth for the supper set. She had not been quite ready for such an overt show of favour, so had asked him to repeat the request at the appropriate time.

His request was duly made and granted, and they found the supper set entirely congenial. By some strange quirk of fate, the musicians took up a country dance that left a great deal of time for talking. Darcy assumed they followed Miss Bennet’s suggestion over Miss Bingley’s because the local musicians had a good sense of which side their bread was buttered on; but he thought it also likely they just decided that being hired by the present mistress again would be more punishment than profit. Either way, their conversation flowed with the greatest of ease, and the other dancers mostly left them to become acquainted.

It was missed by exactly nobody that Darcy was dancing a second set for the first time—and they were both significant sets. He had danced at least once with every unmarried lady in the room, and many of the married—but he had never danced a second set in the same evening with anybody. Of course, with everyone watching and listening, they spent most of the dance speaking of relatively silly subjects and laughing over Darcy’s obtuseness, with a few apt comparisons between him and Miss Lydia (in which, he did not necessarily emerge the victor).

Sir William interrupted them with his observations that they were excellent dancers, and perhaps they might see much more of that if a certain anticipated event occurred. Subtlety was not Sir William’s strong suit, but since Bingley had taken his advice and increased his attentions to Miss Bennet gradually, all Darcy could suggest was that the man should not put the cart in front of the horse. A betting man would probably favour the possibility, though it was still too early to call the race, and a wise man would keep his speculations to himself, lest he might endanger the lady’s reputation.

Sitting together at supper gave the nascent couple more time to talk quietly among themselves. They both liked what they heard exceedingly.

Mrs Bennet tended to get a bit boisterous with enthusiasm over the possibility of Jane becoming the mistress of Netherfield (not to mention perhaps a bit more wine than was ideal), but a quick word-to-the-wise from Darcy caused her to reconsider whether she was helping or hurting her cause, and the rest of the evening went well.

Miss Mary played a light and pleasing piece Darcy had suggested earlier, using the pretext that his sister highly recommended it for just that sort of occasion. Mr Collins started a long-winded speech that Darcy managed to divert by the simple expedient of congratulating the man on his appointed living and suggesting they might discuss his aunt’s health.

The Longbourn party were the last of all the company to depart, and, by a manoeuvre of Mrs Bennet, might have had to wait for their carriage a quarter of an hour after everybody else was gone, if not for the intervention of Jane.

Darcy asked permission to call on Elizabeth, to which she readily agreed. He had not been the only one to have his ear bent throughout the ball, and in fact, thought it might be the biggest collection of determined matchmakers in history.

Mrs Bennet invited the Netherfield gentlemen for dinner the very next day, and nearly everyone left the ball satisfied.