Chapter 5

C aroline Bingley had just entered the ballroom when she saw Mr Darcy approach the hated Eliza Bennet. She wished she could have heard the conversation, because whatever it was, it was brief. All she could hope was that Miss Eliza had been her impertinent self and had repulsed Mr Darcy. So far, the man she intended to marry had not yet asked her to dance a set. She had been hoping he would have picked up on one of her many hints that she would have been happy to dance the first, supper, and final sets with him. Frustratingly, the man had been fatuous and not requested any set from her.

Miss Bingley watched as Mr Darcy stood far too close to where Eliza and that plain spinster were standing. She was about to approach him when that ridiculous cousin of the Bennets did so. It was not a bad thing in her estimation. She was sure the parson would annoy Mr Darcy, and as he was a cousin to the Bennets, it would reflect poorly on them.

If there had not been so many people close to her, Miss Bingley would have walked to where Miss Eliza stood to issue some well-chosen setdowns.

Elizabeth’s thoughts came back to her objectionable partner for the first set as soon as she stopped thinking about her disappointment that Mr Wickham would not be at the ball. This meant she would not be able to rub her friendship with the handsome lieutenant in Mr Darcy’s face.

She realised her thoughts were both uncharitable and far below her. When she was uncomfortable, especially when deep down she knew she was in the wrong, Elizabeth employed her humour. She turned to Charlotte to make some witty comment but saw the direction of her friend’s eyes. She was looking at Mr Collins with mortification.

“Charlotte, what ails you?” Elizabeth asked when she saw her friend lose colour in her cheeks.

“I am afraid Mr Collins is about to make an enormous social faux pas .” Charlotte cocked her head towards the parson. “I am afraid he intends to remonstrate with Mr Darcy for requesting your first set.”

As much as she liked to see Mr Darcy discomposed, Elizabeth was aware if that was what her cousin was about, it would reflect poorly on all of her family. She then noticed Miss Bingley watching the unfolding disaster with undisguised glee. Certainly the pernicious woman would use Mr Collins as another reason to separate her brother from Jane. Elizabeth considered trying to divert Mr Collins. However it was too late, he was before Mr Darcy making one of his absurd low bows.

Knowing he owed it to his patroness to make sure Mr Darcy did not dance with the jezebel, as he had decided that Cousin Elizabeth was one. When he had wandered away from Miss Lucas’s side, Collins had seen Mr Darcy standing not far from him, so he approached Lady Catherine’s soon to be son-in-law.

Darcy saw the man stand and bow before him as if he was royalty. His aunt Catherine liked sycophants who would flatter her to the skies and inflate her overdeveloped sense of her own worth. This one before him was one of the worst with whom she had ever surrounded herself. This Collins took obsequiousness to a whole new art form. In Darcy’s opinion, the clergyman placed his aunt even before the Lord God, who he was supposed to be serving.

“Mr Darcy, I must protest your choice of my cousin with whom you intend to open the ball. What would Lady Catherine and your intended say if they heard…” Collins shut his mouth as Mr Darcy leaned forward until he was close to the parson’s face.

“I do not now, nor have I ever had an intended. I should know this as I have yet to make my proposals to any woman,” Darcy growled.

“But your wise and beneficent lady aunt assured me, you were betrothed in your cradles, and your late mother desired…” Collins was not so deficient he could not tell the fury his last statement engendered. He began to worry Mr Darcy was about to call him out.

“My mother never agreed to anything of the sort, and more importantly, neither did my father, who was after all, the one who had the power to sign a betrothal contract. In fact, he resisted every attempt by my aunt to have him agree to engage me to Anne. This is a fantasy pushed by my aunt which everyone in my family knows is a lie. If you ever repeat this lie again, and it reaches my ears, I will call you out!”

By the time Darcy was done speaking, Mr Collins was sweating profusely, and his legs were shaking from fear. Without another word, and bowing repeatedly as he retreated, Collins put as much distance as he could between the man he had angered and himself.

Hearing Mr Darcy’s words, created the first cracks in Elizabeth’s blind acceptance of Mr Wickham’s words. When he had said Mr Darcy was betrothed to his sickly cousin, Mr Wickham had told her he knew of the agreement from his late godfather’s lips. How could that be if the late Mr Darcy had refused to gratify Lady Catherine? She shook her head and told herself, there must have been a misunderstanding, all the while knowing she was trying to rationalise one of the many inconsistencies in the handsome man’s tale.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Bennet was standing with his wife in a group which included Frank Phillips and the Lucas parents. Sir William was waxing eloquently about the ball, and tying it back to his investiture at St James, but Bennet was only listening with half an ear. Where he was standing with his back to the wall, he had a good view of the whole of the ballroom.

He had noted at first Kitty and Lydia had behaved almost acceptably as they stood and giggled with Maria Lucas and Penny Long. The instant the officers arrived, Lydia abandoned her sister and friends and made a beeline for the men in uniform, screeching for them to pay attention to her at the top of her voice. Not to be outdone, Kitty abandoned Maria and Penny to emulate her younger sister.

Phillips, who had also been watching his nieces, gave his brother-in-law an ‘I told you so’ look as soon as the two youngest Bennets began to make spectacles of themselves.

Bennet just shrugged at Phillips. This was not the forum to express his thoughts. He had said he would watch passively this night, but he reached a decision as he watched his youngests acting like lightskirts. If their behaviour got too many degrees worse, then he would be taking them home in the middle of the ball. Noticing Fanny was not speaking to Lady Lucas, Bennet squeezed his wife’s hand, and when she looked at him, he inclined his head in the direction of their two youngest daughters.

Fanny felt mortified. She now saw for herself how her well-meaning, but fatally flawed, advice on how to catch a man would quite likely lead her youngest two to ruin. She nodded to her husband to let him know she saw the behaviour. With her eyes she told him that he needed to do what he must to correct them.

After their silent communication, Bennet watched as Mr Darcy approached his second daughter. He hoped Lizzy would not allow her prejudices against the man to be displayed publicly. Thankfully, although the conversation was terse, nothing untoward seemed to occur between them. Before he could relax, he saw his buffoon of a cousin approach Mr Darcy. Just when he thought his cousin could not be more of a simpleton, here he was speaking to Mr Darcy without allowing the man, who was far higher in society, to initiate a conversation between them.

There was no missing the anger Mr Darcy directed at Collins, nor the way the latter man cowered. Soon enough Collins scurried away as if someone had set the dogs on him. Bennet was sorry he had ever allowed Collins to visit. He had only agreed to the visit as he had foreseen much amusement. That was before his brothers-in-law had revealed all to him, and he had decided to change his ways.

The humiliation both Lizzy and Miss Lucas felt as they watched his cousin’s performance was felt from where Bennet stood on the opposite side of the ballroom. He had not been able to hear what passed between the two men, but Bennet was reasonably sure Elizabeth had been able to hear every word. Whatever had been discussed by the two had made his daughter look quite pensive.

Bennet looked around for his other two daughters. Neither would behave in any way, other than what was extremely proper. He saw Jane standing with the eldest Miss Long, Miss Goulding, and Mr Bingley, now that his receiving line duties were over. He had joked with Lizzy about it being good for a lady to be crossed in love from time to time, but the truth was he would hate to see Jane’s tender heart wounded. That left one daughter. It did not take Bennet long to spy his middle daughter.

Mary was seated in a corner with a book in hand. Bennet was cognisant of the fact, thanks to inaction in not stopping Fanny from harping on Mary for being plain, his middle daughter believed that was true and hid her light under a bushel to protect herself against hurt. “I am going to speak to Mary,” Bennet told his wife. She nodded and he was off.

“Please hand me those spectacles we both know you do not need,” Bennet extended his hand once he was standing before Mary. “And the book too. This is a ballroom, not a library.”

For her part, Mary was extremely surprised. She was not used to gaining attention from one of her parents unless it was negative, like playing discordant notes on purpose or singing like a screeching alley cat. “Bu…but I need them,” Mary protested.

“Not to help your vision,” Bennet said gently as he sat down next to Mary. “I must beg your pardon. All the times your mother called you plain, I should have stepped in to support you. You are just as beautiful as your sisters; you just do not look like your mother. Like Lizzy, you look more like my late mother. Before you protest no one ever asks you to dance, we both know it is because you make yourself unapproachable, and if some man does try to request a dance, you chase him away with some homily or an asinine quote from Fordyce’s Sermons.”

That her father was speaking to her in this gentle manner, apologising for not protecting her, and calling her as pretty as her sisters was very new for Mary, but not unwelcome. She knew she did not need her spectacles to read, they were part of her mask she donned to protect herself. She removed the eyeglasses and handed them into her father’s outstretched hand. Next, she passed over her pocket copy of Fordyce’s Sermons. Papa took it and secreted it in one of his jacket pockets.

“Now Miss Mary Beth Bennet, will you do this old man the honour of standing up with him for the first set?” Bennet requested. His middle daughter glowed with pleasure as she accepted his hand.

Hearing the first bars of music being played to announce the first set, Bennet led his daughter to take their places in the line. Seeing Mr Darcy lead his Lizzy—who had sworn never to dance with the man—to the forming line, made Bennet’s eyebrows climb until they all but disappeared into his hairline. He would have to ask Lizzy about more than just regarding his cousin’s conversation with Mr Darcy.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Where some were shocked to see Mr Darcy lead Miss Elizabeth out for the first set of the ball, there was one who was enraged by the sight. Had she not known such an action would redound upon herself, Miss Bingley would have run onto the dance floor, pulled that hoyden Miss Eliza from the line, and had her tossed from her home.

How dare she dance with Mr Darcy when it was supposed to be herself who opened the ball with him! It suddenly struck Miss Bingley like the force of a hammer to the head that, in all the years she had been hunting Mr Darcy, he had never danced the first set. Not only had he never asked her to dance any significant set, she had never seen him dance an important set with a lady not of his family. She had been patient long enough. It was well past the time for him to propose to her. She would have his social standing, wealth, and property for her own! With her fists balled up, Miss Bingley stared at Miss Eliza, sending prayers the hoyden would trip, or worse, and not be able to complete the dance. Caroline would be a more than willing substitute.

Elizabeth could feel Miss Bingley’s eyes boring into her back. Had there been a way to do it without endangering her ability to dance for the remainder of the ball, she would have refused Mr Darcy’s offer to dance and sent him to Miss Bingley quite willingly.

As it was, she was now stuck dancing with the hateful man who had blasted Mr Wickham’s prospects so callously. She looked up the line and could not but smile seeing Jane with Mr Bingley. Her sister was glowing with happiness, something one not familiar with her, would more than likely miss. As she looked further down the line, there was no surprise. Kitty and Lydia were being partnered by a pair of officers, but what she saw beyond them shocked her to her core. Not only was her father dancing, but he had Mary as his partner. Elizabeth blinked a few times to make sure she was not imagining what she was seeing. It was real, not a spectre. Mary was without her useless spectacles, and she looked lovely just as her older sisters knew she was.

Since the start of the dance, Mr Darcy had said not a word. Elizabeth would have been happy to allow that to persist had she not thought forcing him to converse was the opposite of what he desired. She decided she would speak to him as soon as the dance brought them back together.

Darcy was still questioning his weakness in asking the temptress to dance. He told himself there could be no harm in one dance. At least it was what he needed to believe to preserve his sanity as well as his determination that she was not an appropriate lady to be matched with a Darcy of Pemberley. He was sure he felt heat directed at him. Looking at them from the side of the dance floor, not having been asked to dance with anyone, was Miss Bingley sending daggers at Miss Elizabeth’s person.

He decided he had spent enough time under the same roof as the shrew, so on the morrow he would join Bingley, telling him he too had business in Town. When his friend’s business was completed, Darcy would use Giana as an excuse for him to remain in London and not return to Hertfordshire. Even though he would not give in to a compromise, he would prefer to miss the attempt if that is what she intended. He was snapped out of his thoughts by Miss Elizabeth’s words.

“Everyone seems to be enjoying the dance,” Elizabeth stated impishly. “It seems they find it more than tolerable and handsome enough to tempt them.”

“Yes, it seems so,” Darcy replied, and was again silent. He could not fathom what she meant by the second half of her statement.

Elizabeth said no more for some minutes, and then once they came back together, she addressed him a second time, “It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some sort of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples.”

Darcy gave a slight grin. “I am yours to command, I will say whatever you desire,” he acknowledged.

“Oh, very well. That reply will do for now. Perhaps by and by, I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones. But now we may be silent,” Elizabeth returned.

“Do you talk by rule while you are dancing?” Darcy enquired.

“It depends. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together; and yet for the advantage of some , conversation ought to be so arranged, as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible.”

If he did not know better, Darcy would have thought she was shooting a barb at him. He dismissed the thought and assumed it was her way of flirting with him, as she often did when they were in company together. “Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?”

“Both, for I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something profound which will amaze the whole room.”

“That is nothing like your own character, I am sure. How accurate a description it may be of my own , I cannot pretend to say. You think it is a faithful portrait of me undoubtedly, however, I must not decide on my own performance.”

“I suppose in time we will see how accurate my description is,” Elizabeth responded. The first dance of the set ended, and they stood with others in the line waiting for the second dance. It was a country dance.

As she had not got him to respond as she had wanted during the first dance of the set, Elizabeth decided to try another subject. She allowed him to relax for the first five minutes of the second dance, and then he spoke before she could, but it took her exactly where she wanted to go.

They had gone down the line a second time. “How often do you and your sisters walk to Meryton?” Darcy asked.

“We walk there quite often.” As he had opened the subject, she decided to take full advantage of his doing so. “When you met us there the other day, we had just been forming a new acquaintance of a very good and honest man, one with whom I know you are acquainted.”

The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of anger and hauteur overspread his features. Yet he said not a word as he seemed to be grinding his teeth. Knowing that she was being purposefully provocative, Elizabeth decided she would not go on.

“Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends—whether he may be equally capable of retaining them, is less certain,” Darcy bit out after a delay to attempt to bring his temper under regulation.

Her decision to moderate her speech was cast aside. “He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship,” Elizabeth responded with emphasis, “and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life.”

“Yes, poor man. His misfortunes are great indeed,” Darcy responded sarcastically.

Elizabeth was about to respond rather forcefully, but she caught her father’s eye, and he shook his head. She looked around and saw her argument with Mr Darcy had been noted by others. Miss Bingley stood watching with no small measure of pleasure. Rather than respond, Elizabeth bit her tongue as they managed the last few minutes of the dance in silence. At the end of it, Mr Darcy bowed to her, turned on his heel and stalked off.

Bennet had heard snippets of the altercation, so he knew Lizzy had been defending Mr Wickham to Mr Darcy. He would need to speak to her at home. Although her behaviour was normally much better than her two youngest sisters, her performance on the dance floor had left much to be desired.

He led Mary to the side, and the latter was promptly asked for various sets from men attending the ball. Soon her dance card was practically full, and Mary was well pleased.