Windswept: A Pride & Prejudice Variation

Chapter 11

The Bennet carriage pulled up to Netherfield Park right behind Mr. Darcy’s town coach. Elizabeth was grateful that Mr. Darcy was a man of his word. The wind swirled about them as raindrops started falling. A footman carefully handed Mrs. Hammond down, then held an umbrella over her to shield her from the inclement weather. Mr. Darcy waited at the end of the receiving line for his guest of honor.

She hoped to discover his cousin standing next to him, but Colonel Fitzwilliam was not there. Possibly, he had recently arrived and was rushing to dress in his finest. She would wait, though she wished he would hurry.

When Mr. Darcy greeted them with a smile, Elizabeth barely caught her breath. Truly, he was wickedly handsome. Good heavens! For as much as Elizabeth vowed to despise Mr. Darcy upon their first meeting, his treating her friend with dignity, plus the few things she discovered about him, certainly elevated him out of the deep, dark pit of her ire. For a certainty, she was unsure what she thought about him or whether she was quite ready to forgive him completely. She just wished he was not so appealing to the eye.

Mrs. Hammond blushed when he offered to escort her into the room.He turned toward Elizabeth with his other arm. Before she could accept, Mr. Collins ignored Mary and stepped forward. In his attempt to avoid crashing into Mr. Darcy, he knocked Elizabeth off balance.

He sniveled. “Do look where you are going, Cousin Elizabeth. It simply would not do for you to cause a scene in front of your exalted neighbors. Had the daughter of my patroness been here, she would have demonstrated how a lady of modesty and grace would move about in a crowd. As it is, I shall take you in hand to demonstrate proper conduct in society.”

The weasel failed to look at her even once during his tirade. Instead, he studied Mr. Darcy, likely expecting to have the gentleman heap praise upon the clergyman for doing his duty with a magnanimity borne out of possessing an excellent character. Or he might have hoped that Mr. Darcy would beg her for an introduction to the oaf.

Egad!Elizabeth could not say that she knew Mr. Darcy well, but she knew enough to be confident that Mr. Collins would earn no accolades from him.

“Miss Elizabeth! Are you well?” Mr. Darcy turned to stand directly in front of Mr. Collins. When he took a small step forward, the parson was forced to move back. Mary dodged out of his way, excusing herself to the music room. Her dear, sweet Jane was greeted warmly by Mr. Bingley. Jane’s happiness lit the room more than the crystal chandeliers.

Without a word, Mr. Darcy again offered his arm. This time, Elizabeth quickly accepted his munificence. At least with him, she should make it through the crush with her hem intact and her toes unbruised.

The eyes of her neighbors turned toward them as Mr. Darcy escorted her across the room. From the corner of her eye, she witnessed Miss Bingley’s face pale as her gloved hand shot up to cover her gaping mouth. Elizabeth did not doubt that her hostess was horrified to see who was at Mr. Darcy’s side since it was exactly where the lady desired to be.

In response to Miss Bingley’s shock, Elizabeth lifted her chin. Was it pride flowing through her veins at being the center of attention for the first time in her memory? Over the years, being overlooked for not being as beautiful as Jane or as lively as Lydia assuredly chipped away at her self-esteem. Yet, tonight, in her finest gown on the arm of the handsomest gentleman, her confidence blossomed.

Rarely did she brood over her situation since there was little within her power that she could do to make changes. Her father could not be moved to show a more active interest in his family or his estate. Her mother stubbornly insisted that pushing herself and her daughters forward was the only way they would ever marry. Elizabeth knew they loved her in their own ways, perhaps, but the fact that she was so often criticized and unnoticed made her feel less while, at the same time, motivated her to put herself forward where she expressed her own opinions freely.

Good grief!She was no better than Mary, who used her music to draw attention to herself. What an epiphany to have in the middle of a ballroom! Elizabeth dropped her eyes to the floor.

Often, she reprimanded Kitty and Lydia for thinking more of themselves than they should. It was humbling to realize that, for that moment in time, she was doing the same. And for what purpose? Because a wealthy, attractive man whom Miss Bingley pursued like a hungry dog to a meaty bone offered her his arm? Inhaling slowly, she blinked twice. Apparently, Mr. Collins was not the only ridiculous guest at Mr. Bingley’s ball.

Stiffening her spine, she chose to hold her head high. She was the daughter of a country squire, which elevated her above the Bingleys. More than that, she was not mean-spirited. At least, she hoped she was not.

Mr. Darcy’s attention toward her meant little. The truth was that he was being polite, a gentleman. Even now, his focus was not on her but on Mrs. Hammond.

Elizabeth sighed as Mr. Darcy excused himself to procure punch for her friend. When he asked if she desired a cup, Elizabeth barely hesitated to accept his kindness. “I thank you.”

Her gaze swept the crowd, hoping for a glimpse of Colonel Fitzwilliam. Had he arrived yet? Was he currently upstairs throwing off his traveling clothes and then preparing for the opening set? She was eager to see him, for until he appeared…well, she was used to disappointment, wasn’t she?

Oh, good heavens! What an inconstant female she was for being flattered with the honor of being escorted by handsome Mr. Darcy. His good looks should have paled compared to Colonel Fitzwilliam’s…Elizabeth struggled to recall the color of the colonel’s hair. When she blinked, it was Mr. Darcy’s dark waves that filled her thoughts. She was ridiculous!

“Are you well, Miss Lizzy?” Mrs. Hammond stepped close enough to whisper.

Smiling somewhat, Elizabeth replied, “I believe I am overwhelmed by the magnitude of elegance, Mrs. Hammond. Never have I seen Netherfield Park with as much opulence nor my neighbors as finely turned out.”

Mrs. Hammond’s arthritic fingers smoothed the fabric of her gown. “Miss Lizzy, I have never worn anything this beautifully trimmed. Why, the matrons of our local society will wonder how I was able to afford a French modiste to fashion my garment so quickly.”

They chuckled. It had taken hours each day to convert the piece to its current design. When her mother and Lydia, both skilled with a needle and the imagination to turn a piece of cloth into a garment of beauty, joined in the task, a magnificent creation was formed. All were pleased with the results.

Mrs. Hammond tilted her head to study Elizabeth closely. “I used to have a fair hand with a needle, but those days are long over for me. Thank you for tirelessly assisting me. For all the effort Mr. Darcy went to in seeing I was personally invited, then having his lovely coach bring me to the ball, I feel like a duchess. An aged duchess, of course.” She swayed side to side, feeling the fabric swirl around her ankles. “My dear girl, what is your opinion of Mr. Darcy now?”

Elizabeth hesitated before replying. Any condemnation of the man would make her appear surly. At the same time, overt praise would be false. Therefore, she sought the most honest answer. “He sees your worth, which means he is discerning. That he took responsibility for your care is a mark of kindness. His intelligence is revealed due to his attendance on you to the exclusion of others. All in all, he might not be as miserable as I first suspected him to be.”

Mrs. Hammond’s eyes were sharp. “I can hear the bite of your tone, dear girl. I beg you to let go of your anger, all of it. You are meant for joy and laughter, not cynicism or prejudice. I see how hard you try to guard and protect your sisters. I hear how you evade criticism of your mother and even, on occasion, your father. I know from experience how hard you work to be the best version of yourself.” She wrapped her fingers around Elizabeth’s. “Take it from this old woman that you already are everything a lady should be. The responsibility for your sisters or your parents is not your weight to bear. Tonight is your opportunity to make memories you can take out and cherish for your lifetime. Dance. Be merry. Be happy.”

How Elizabeth loved this dear lady.Blinking away tears pooling at the corners of her eyes from the winsome words, Elizabeth asked, “And what shall you do this evening? Will you scandalously dance the waltz with Mr. Darcy? Or will you chase an officer across the floor?”

Mr. Hammond chuckled. “No, my dear, I shall sit and listen to the music while sharing idle talk with the other old women.” She glanced behind Elizabeth. “If my memory has not failed me, did you not mention that you are engaged with Colonel Fitzwilliam for the first?”

The musicians played a few notes, calling attention to the attendees that the dancing would soon begin. Mr. Bingley moved to the front of the line with Jane. Mr. Hurst stood up with his wife. Miss Bingley shot daggers at Mr. Darcy’s back while accepting John Lucas for the first.

Where was Colonel Fitzwilliam?

Dotted throughout the room were militia officers in their red coats, but the colonel was not to be found. Elizabeth’s stomach sank to her toes when he failed to descend the grand staircase. When she spotted Mr. Collins hurrying towards her, she swallowed. If she refused to stand up with him, she would not be able to dance for the rest of the evening. Ugh! The prospect was in every way horrible. She wanted to give him no encouragement to continue pursuing her. She wanted…she wanted Colonel Fitzwilliam or anyone other than Mr. Collins.

The deep timbre of the last man she expected to offer hummed in her ears. “My cousin feared he would not return in time. He asked if I would stand in his place. Would you honor me with this dance?”

Catching Mr. Darcy’s gaze as he handed one cup to Mrs. Hammond and the other to a passing waiter, Elizabeth was grateful for his intervention. Relief coursed through her every pore at not needing to dance with Mr. Collins. Nor was she relegated to the wall with the other ladies without partners. And she might finally discover what delayed the colonel.

Mr. Darcy was a superb dancer, leading her through the steps with skill and grace. She wanted to thank him for coming to her rescue, but how to go about it escaped her. He had escorted her home in the rain, gave her friend the gift of dignity, and saved Elizabeth from the embarrassment of sitting out the first. Additionally, he had the same rocky relationship with his father as she discovered she had with hers. Had she completely misjudged him as Mrs. Hammond insisted? The facts appeared to speak for themselves. Apparently, Mr. Darcy, although arrogant, could also be kind. What a surprise!

Darcy wonderedwhat she was thinking because they had not taken more than a dozen steps before Miss Elizabeth’s mien softened, and a pinkish hue covered the tops of her cheekbones. If he were not careful, he would fall into the depths of her eyes and never be able to get out. Would he even want to try? He needed to clear his mind of the beguiling picture she made where his arms were tightly wrapped around…

Again, to distract himself, he glanced around the room for his half-brother. The other officers poured into the room in droves, but George had not arrived yet. Thank god!

“Sir, do you have news of your family’s journey to the North?”

Darcy cleared his throat. “Yes, Miss Elizabeth. My housekeeper in London indicated that the Matlocks are not the only families leaving Town because of the weather. The North Road will be crowded, making the inns full. Therefore, I suspect my cousin’s return is delayed.”

“I see.”

Darcy could not tell from those two words if she was disappointed before the dance separated them. The tips of her fingers barely touched his gloves when the pattern brought them back together.

She said, “My dearest aunt and uncle live with their four children on Gracechurch Street near Cheapside. I worry that they may be in danger from toppling chimneys or flying pieces of slate.”

He nodded. “Did you reread Defoe’s book?”

“I did.”

He saw the fear in her eyes. He would do whatever was needed to ease her concerns. “More than one hundred years have passed since the Great Storm. The likelihood of it happening again is minuscule. However, with the odd weather we have had during the summer and the intense intermittent winds of these past weeks, it does make a person cautious.”

At that comment, he had her full attention.

“Are you suggesting that we should make preparations?”

“What I am saying is that a person with insight would give serious consideration in advance to the steps they should take to protect their family. Recall how quickly Mrs. Hammond was able to care for herself when the wind and rain whipped at her house. With the shutters on her windows, the basket of food that you brought her, the abundance of blankets, and the pile of wood at the back of her cottage where we tied our horses, she is in a good situation to last a long while before needing additional provisions.” He gently squeezed her hand. “Enough of this. Are you enjoying Bingley’s ball?”

She paused slightly before stepping to his right and then turning to face him, replying, “I am indeed. Never have I seen my neighbors as stately and well-dressed. It is as if we are seeing the best of everyone present.”

“You have a delightfully positive outlook, Miss Elizabeth.” They repeated the movements of the dance twice more when it suddenly occurred to him that it was the first time he stood up with an unmarried female who was not afraid to look him in the eye when they spoke. It was also the first time he opened a ball with someone other than a relative. Interestingly, he felt no fear that he needed to bear the burden of conversation or that she would place herself in a compromising situation with him by tripping him purposefully. Never had he been this untroubled.

Tension returned to his shoulders, and his smile faded when he heard Lydia Bennet’s whine above the musicians. The rest of Miss Elizabeth’s family had arrived. His chest tightened.

“Mama, I told you we should have come in the first carriage. Look! We are late. The dancing started without me.”

Miss Lydia stomped her foot, then hopped up and down to look over the crowd, the movement threatening to pop her assets from her bodice. “Jane is with Mr. Bingley, no surprise there. And Lizzy is standing up with Mr. Darcy. Who knows where Mary is hiding. The officers are waiting for me to have a good time. Where is Wickham or Captain Carter? Surely, they are wanting to partner me.”

Mr. Bennet snorted, then turned away from his family.

She draped the back of her hand over her brow. ‘Drama’ must have been Lydia Bennet’s middle name. “Papa, how dare you laugh when we screamed as the carriage rocked to and fro from the wind. Why, I have raindrops on my hem. I am ruined.”

Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst snickered as Darcy longed to cup his hand over the youngest Bennet’s mouth and drag her back to the nursery where she belonged. Glancing at Miss Elizabeth, whose attention was fully on her family, he saw the exact second when her spine stiffened and her chin set. She would never imitate her obnoxious sibling. Instead, she would rise above.

He again scanned the room for Wickham. Unless he was in the card room, he was not there. Good!

Lydia!What an embarrassment!

Elizabeth knew she had a choice. She could allow her family to ruin her evening, or she could not.

When she saw Mr. Bingley soothing Jane, Elizabeth recalled how often the poor conduct of his own sisters reflected badly on him. Yet, he did not allow it to dampen his joy. Elizabeth would do the same. Mrs. Hammond was correct. The misconduct of her family was not hers to bear, at least not for that evening. Instead, Elizabeth would act with dignity and honor. She would have a wonderful time at the ball on her own terms.

When the set ended, Elizabeth’s next partner, John Lucas, claimed her. Then she stood up with her father’s cousin. By the time her obligatory dance with Mr. Collins was over, Mr. Darcy was engaged in conversation with Mrs. Hammond. Like the storm outside, emotions tossed and turned inside Elizabeth. Lydia’s braying laughter captured her attention as she tried to steal a sword from one of the officers, Kitty following her poor example; Elizabeth wished herself at home in the privacy of her bedchamber. Or rather, she wished something or someone would have kept Lydia and Kitty at Longbourn.

She yearned for her father to see the damage his daughters were doing to the family name. However, as was typical, he sought his own pleasure by hiding away in a room where card tables were set up for those who chose not to dance. Knowing her father, he tucked a book in his evening jacket. His nose would be buried between the pages of his latest acquisition. Inside, Elizabeth knew that even had he been in the ballroom, Thomas Bennet would have laughed at his daughters, doing nothing to stop their antics.

Recalling Mrs. Hammond’s plea, she finally sought peace by standing as far away from her mother and younger sisters as possible. Eventually, the music and movement of the dancers soothed her, strengthening Elizabeth’s resolve to be the best she could be under every circumstance. Perhaps then she would have the future of her dreams.

As capable a partner as Mr. Darcy was, how she wished Colonel Fitzwilliam were here!