Chapter 15 #2
Elizabeth suspected that only she could sense the depths of despair behind Jane’s placid expression as she dutifully followed her betrothed onto the dance floor.
It was inexplicable, but it was there. Elizabeth supposed that at some point she ought to talk to her aunt.
Mrs Gardiner might have more ideas about both the cause of Jane’s unhappiness and maybe even a cure.
“Well, let us take a turn about the room and speak to your friends, Lizzy,” said her aunt cheerfully. “Jane has Lord Grantchester and will have no need for us for quite some time. We ought not to crowd her or insert ourselves with his relatives and friends unless invited.”
“I should warn you that Mr Bingley’s sisters consider themselves very much above my family, or indeed anyone else who does not have a fortune, a title, or make regular appearances in the society columns of the best newspapers,” Elizabeth said dryly.
Elizabeth restrained the urge to add that neither these ladies nor Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy were her friends. The good-hearted Mr Bingley did not seem to deserve such dismissal, and she would not give Mr Darcy even a moment of her consideration.
“Dear me,” Mrs Gardiner said calmly, taking Elizabeth’s arm with a smile. Her aunt’s equanimity was hardly a surprise; Mrs Gardiner had always been a sensible woman without pretensions or aspirations to social climbing. “Well, then. We shall have to keep our expectations in check.”
Steered by her aunt, and unable to think of any reasonable objection, Elizabeth soon found herself standing before Mr Bingley’s party and making the usual polite murmurings required at such times.
Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst responded in kind, and Mr Bingley greeted them with apparently genuine pleasure.
In contrast, Mr Darcy gave a rather stiff bow, his expression as sombre as ever.
“I see that Miss Bennet is dancing,” Mr Bingley remarked, looking across to where Lord Grantchester and Jane had already joined a quadrille. “The music will be fine and lively tonight. The Duchess of Suttonfield always has the best musicians.”
“Yes, Lord Grantchester was most eager to lead his partner out onto the dance floor,” Mrs Gardiner laughed as Mr Bingley continued to gaze at the pair, or rather at Jane. “They look well together, do they not?”
Mr Bingley nodded a little bashfully, trying to look away and then stealing another glance despite himself.
He was not, in fact, the only young man looking admiringly at Elizabeth’s sister.
Jane was very beautiful tonight in her white silk ballgown, with pearls holding back her masses of blonde hair and her blue eyes both winsome and inscrutable.
Women too were looking intently at Jane, some with interest and others with barely disguised envy.
All around the edges of the dance floor, Elizabeth could see and hear little ripples of interest in Lord Grantchester’s bride-to-be.
When Mr Bingley spoke again, he was blushing slightly and trying very hard to keep his gaze on their aunt’s face.
“Miss Elizabeth here has told me before that their family had no dancing masters, but Miss Bennet’s grace on the dance floor shows that such services could only have been wasted,” he said, in carefully respectful compliment.
“We always danced at home with my mother from when we were small, although my father does not care for dancing,” Elizabeth said.
Poor Mr Bingley! The least she might do to ease her mind would be to help the conversation flow.
“It was largely my aunt and uncle who taught me and Jane our formal dances when we grew older.”
“How interesting,” said Mrs Hurst condescendingly, while Miss Bingley bestowed one of her most superior smiles. “How unusually you were brought up, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Hardly,” Mr Darcy said abruptly. Elizabeth looked at him in surprise. Surely there could scarcely be a less likely defender.
“My sister Georgiana has grown up dancing with me at family parties,” Mr Darcy went on. “I consider it a very proper way for girls to learn. One cannot be too careful with the acquaintance of the young.”
“Oh, I meant nothing ill by my remark, Mr Darcy,” Mrs Hurst returned at once, evidentially keen to match her opinion to his.
“You are quite right. Of course, it is better for young girls to keep to their family circle. It is only when ladies are coming out into society that a dancing master might be useful, especially if their relatives do not dance as well as you do.”
“Louisa, I see Mrs Simons over there with her brother, Sir Henry,” Miss Bingley intervened with an unsubtle attempt at tactful extrication of her elder sister. “We should greet them, should we not?”
“Yes, we should, Caroline. Do excuse us.”
With his sisters gone, Mr Bingley continued the conversation with Mrs Gardiner on dancing, showing himself as attentive and personable as ever. Jane was right – it was a shame that Elizabeth could not marry Charles Bingley. However, she could never love him, and there was an end to it.
“Are you enjoying the ball, Miss Elizabeth?” Direct as ever, Mr Darcy’s voice interrupted Elizabeth’s thoughts. “I wonder that you are not yet dancing.”
She frowned slightly, wondering what he meant by such a remark. In another man, this might have been the first step towards an invitation to dance, but from Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy, who did not even like her, that was impossible.
What could he be implying? Perhaps he was expressing surprise that Elizabeth was not setting her cap at Lord Keeble or some other eligible friend of Lord Grantchester’s. That would fit what she knew of him, at least.
“I dare say I am enjoying myself more than you, Mr Darcy,” she returned a little archly. “From your expression tonight, someone might think you rather at a funeral than a ball.”
He seemed so startled by this observation that Elizabeth feared she had gone too far, or said more than she intended. Though more than willing to cross swords with Mr Darcy, she had no wish to cause real offense.
“I did not…That is, I am not… I fear I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to others at large social events of this kind.”
It was a very curious admission, and Elizabeth did not know what to make of it any more than his previous remarks. Was he acknowledging the general rudeness of his demeanour and seeking tacit forgiveness? That did not seem likely.
“Have you tried?” Elizabeth asked him, pointedly but not unkindly. “I do not see how a grown man of intelligence and education could fail to recommend himself to others, as long as he is guided by good manners and consideration.”
“Well said, Miss Elizabeth!” guffawed Lord Keeble, reappearing beside them. “I am always telling Darcy that he must socialise more if he wants to enjoy these events. You cannot make friends simply by standing there and glowering.”
“I have friends already,” Mr Darcy pointed out gruffly, but with an undeniable puzzlement in his eyes that touched Elizabeth even as she felt frustration at his almost determined missing of the point.
“Luckily, yes you do,” Lord Keeble laughed again, touching Darcy’s shoulder. “Now, Darcy, I beg your leave to steal Miss Elizabeth away. I require a partner for the next dance, and there are none here so lively and skilful as your present companion. May I have this dance, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Of course you may,” she answered, putting her hand into Lord Keeble’s.
“I would not deny you any pleasure that is in my power to provide,” said Mr Darcy with a bow of his head to Elizabeth. To her astonishment and confusion, she almost thought she saw disappointment in his deep blue eyes.
Had he really intended to ask her for a dance? Surely not.
“I never know quite what to make of Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth said quietly to Lord Keeble as they strolled away together. “Sometimes I fear I offend him merely by speaking.”
“Oh, do not worry yourself, Miss Elizabeth,” he told her, as light-hearted as ever. “Darcy is a good sort really, if too earnest and solemn for his own good. One day, perhaps, he will learn to laugh, but it has not happened yet.”
Smiling at one another, they took their places in the dance.
∞∞∞
Elizabeth saw almost nothing of Jane for the rest of the evening, or rather, she saw a great deal of her sister from a distance too great for conversation.
Lord Grantchester seemed constantly caught up in a whirl of friends and acquaintances, all of whom apparently must be introduced to his future wife.
When not presenting Jane to the higher echelons of the ton, Lord Grantchester rushed her back to the dance floor with seemingly boundless energy.
His activity was almost frenetic tonight, and Elizabeth felt exhausted even watching.
Not even Lord Grantchester’s close friends seemed able to hold his attention, and several times she saw Mr Darcy apparently rebuffed.
Lord Keeble did not even try, and spent the entire night dancing.
“Jane is very much admired tonight,” Mrs Gardiner commented, following Elizabeth’s line of sight to where Jane was curtseying to yet another richly dressed lady on the arm of an equally elegant gentleman.
“Your mother will be glad to hear how well Lord Grantchester is taking care of her, and how welcome his friends are making her.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth agreed, but with a thoughtful smile.
“And yet I fear this ball may be a little much for Jane. I believe she is weary, although Lord Grantchester might not have noticed yet. Her mood has been a little subdued of late, and I do not suppose that making so much new acquaintance at once is easy for her.”
Mrs Gardiner nodded sympathetically. “All this interest will not last forever, Lizzy. I dare say Jane must endure it for now, but it will become easier in the future.”
“I hope so,” Elizabeth replied with a sigh, thinking again of Jane’s weeping in the night. The time might yet come when their aunt ought to be told of it, but it certainly would not be at a ball.