Chapter 21
Netherfield Ballroom
The First Set of Dances
Later
“I hope that you find the ballroom to your liking, Mr. Darcy?” Miss Bingley purred.
Darcy shook himself a trifle and looked down on his companion as the pair waited to begin dancing down the line.
“It looks very well,” he said, suppressing a grimace at the proud look which promptly filled his partner’s face.
He was speaking truthfully, as the ballroom was magnificent, but he did not want to encourage Miss Bingley too much.
He knew she wanted to marry him, and not because of his person or character, but because of Pemberley and his connections.
It was time for them to begin their way down the line, and they did so with grace and skill, and Darcy made certain to inspect Serena’s face when he passed her in the line. She was partnered with Bingley for the first set of dances, and he knew he could trust his friend to care for her well.
His eye caught another familiar woman, and he nearly lost his step at the sight of that lovely face surrounded by red curls. Miss Elizabeth’s eyes were sparkling with good humor and joy, and he felt his heart beat a little faster.
She really was a tantalizing young woman, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, with her beauty and her quick wit. She was also almost certainly a substantial heiress, and while her father was of ignoble birth, her mother was not…
He was, he realized as he reached the end of the line, strongly attracted to the young lady.
She was undoubtedly far more appealing that his cousin, Anne de Bourgh, heiress of Rosings in Kent.
While many of the elders in the family, especially Anne’s mother, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, assumed he would one day marry his cousin, he found no joy in the prospect.
He cared about Anne in an absent way, and surely did not love her.
Moreover, she was a sickly lady who could not necessarily carry an heir for the Darcy family line.
He decided, suddenly, in the middle of the dance, that he would not marry his cousin Anne. It would not be good for either of them, not really. He owed Lady Catherine nothing more than courtesy, as it was his life and his decision whom he chose to marry.
He did not wish to raise expectations before he was certain of his own mind, but given this newfound determination, perhaps he should pursue Miss Elizabeth Bennet, though carefully and cautiously. It was an intriguing and alluring thought.
***
Charlotte Lucas had, over the course of her life, garnered a significant amount of experience and practice in smiling naturally when she did not actually feel like smiling at all, and occasionally she was able to put this skill to good use.
This was one such occasion. She felt more like wincing than smiling, but smile she did, as her partner led her from the dance floor.
Despite the pain in her toes, she did not regret her current position.
As soon as the inhabitants of Lucas Lodge had received an invitation to the Netherfield Ball, Charlotte had made it her aim to dance with the heir of Longbourn.
She and her mother agreed that it would be a great thing if she could charm Mr. Collins into making her an offer of marriage.
Lady Lucas had even gone so far as to order a new gown for Charlotte for the ball, and she lent her an heirloom gold necklace.
The two had taken hours' worth of pains over Charlotte's mousy brown hair, twisting it up into an intricate braided bun.
The result displayed by the mirror had been entirely acceptable, though as ever, a single glance at the Bennet sisters was enough to put aside any small conceit Charlotte might have begun to form regarding her own looks.
She was aware that she was quite plain, and although she did not think she was vain, the fact occasionally saddened her.
It was, in some ways, difficult to be such a near neighbor and friend of a family full of acknowledged beauties, but the Bennets were unceasingly kind and good, and she valued them dearly as friends.
Still, the inevitable comparisons often left her sitting on the side without a partner while the Bennet ladies danced.
Her heart had lifted with genuine hope when Mr. Collins had asked her for the first set.
She could not think this choice on his part to be insignificant and had dared to believe that her days of listening patiently to his prattle were beginning to bear fruit.
She was definitely not a beauty, but then neither was Mr. Collins handsome.
Regardless of looks, Mr. Collins was undeniably more eligible than she was; her dowry was not impressive, nor were her connections, but at least she would bring domestic skills to the marriage.
Mr. Collins had a very respectable living already, despite his relative youth, and would one day be the master of Longbourn.
At seven and twenty years old, Charlotte had largely resigned herself to being on the shelf and making way for her younger sisters, but it was a hard thing to truly accept.
She would be a kindly aunt to whatever nieces and nephews she might have, but the prospect of living forever in her brother's house, subsisting on his kindness and that of his future wife, and dying an old maid, did not appeal to her at all.
Her joy at dancing the first set with the clergyman had not survived long, as she had quickly discovered an unfortunate flaw in her partner.
Mr. Collins was not a gifted dancer, but instead displayed a clumsy lack of aptitude for the exercise.
He was painfully aware of this fault, apologizing for treading upon her toes even as he repeated his offense, more attentive to his genuflections than to his position and movements within the set.
It was well that Charlotte did not blush easily, for any reasonably accomplished dancer must be embarrassed by a partner who regularly blundered into all their neighbors, but her smile remained in place, and her gracious acceptance of every apology would have impressed a saint.
She could not help but be grateful for the end of the first two dances, nonetheless, and carried herself with admirable steadiness on his arm as they cleared the floor.
It would be just as well now, Charlotte thought, if they could sit in the quite comfortable chairs that the Bingleys had provided, and she could induce him to talk to her.
It would serve a two-fold purpose, of providing her a further opportunity to impress him, along with giving their fellow dancers a reprieve from his blunders.
“Would you care for some punch, Miss Lucas?” Mr. Collins asked with a reasonably courtly bow and a smile, having guided her to a chair in a corner of the room as far away from the musicians as possible.
She smiled back at him and said, “No, thank you, Mr. Collins. Would you have time, perchance, to sit and speak with me? I feel rather overheated after the dancing.”
Mr. Collins was sweating noticeably, and he beamed at her and said, “I would enjoy speaking with you very much. It is a great honor for me to spend time with such a charming young lady, and one with such skills in the kitchen, too. Lady Catherine has often said that it is best for a gentlewoman without a fortune to learn how to cook, and bake, and make a small income go a long way. On my honor, it is uncommonly…”
Charlotte leaned back and relaxed as Mr. Collins droned on and on with no requirement for anything more than the occasional nod and smile from her.
She could not help but be encouraged by her partner’s discourse, and she could only pray that before he was obligated to return home to Kent, he would indeed make her an offer.
***
Ballroom
Second Set of Dances
The music of a lively reel filled Bingley’s steps with vigor, and his partner filled his soul with joy.
The gentlemen came back together with their partners, and a thrill went through him as Miss Bennet’s graceful gloved hand lightly clasped his own.
He smiled, enraptured, down into her stunningly beautiful face, and was rewarded by her own smile like the sun emerging from behind thick banks of clouds.
Never, Bingley thought, had he ever known another lady quite so comprehensively admirable.
Not only did Miss Bennet number among the foremost beauties he had seen, but her character was equally incredible.
Her manner was invariably charming and her demeanor always kind.
When speaking with someone shy or ill at ease, like Darcy's sisters, Miss Bennet assiduously sought to make them more comfortable.
There was no shade of haughtiness to be found within her, no off-putting flashes of pride.
She was as courteous to servants as she was to her peers, and patient, and gentle, and sweet.
Bingley rather thought that he was in love.
Nor could his sisters, with all their societal ambitions, turn up their noses at Miss Bennet.
Though they might prefer to forget that their family and fortunes came from trade, Bingley had not.
He was a first-generation gentleman. The Bennets had been a well-respected family in the locale of Meryton for generations, and although they were not wealthy, per se, neither were they stained with the disgrace of poverty.
His impulsive nature urged him to ask for her hand that very night, but a rare caution held him back.
He valued her friendship and her kindness.
What if she did not feel the same way towards him as he felt towards her?
If he made an offer that she did not desire, would she feel obligated to accept for the sake of her family?
Or would she turn him down? She would be kind in doing so, without a doubt, but some constraint would necessarily arise between them.
On the other hand, if he did not ask now, he might lose all chance to win her heart and hand.
Such a beauty as Miss Bennet would certainly take London by storm, and the Bennets were leaving for London in a few short months.
Bingley, who had moved among members of high Society for a few years now, could not imagine Miss Bennet passing a full spring without receiving several offers of marriage from enamored gentlemen.
Perhaps if she received an eligible offer now, if her affections were engaged before ever she went to London, she would consent to wed over the winter?
Then Bingley could triumphantly bear his adored new bride to Town and show her off amidst the glitter of the ton, a jewel among women in a setting fit for her grace and beauty.
Yet maybe Miss Bennet would not find such a plan agreeable?
Perhaps her civility and friendship towards him were no more than that, and he was merely imagining a peculiar warmth in her manner and her eyes when she spoke with him because he wished to see such a warmth.
It was rather baffling; growing up with Caroline and Louisa had taught Bingley that girls and women made their desires known, loudly and emphatically and often.
A woman who was graciously serene in every instance, in adversity and pleasure alike, was a mystery to him.
For now, Bingley decided, he would suppress his natural impulsivity and bide his time.
He would encourage Miss Bennet, with attention and time and as many dances as she would accept, so that she might know where his heart lay.
He, in turn, would study her to learn whether her heart truly inclined towards him.
Whatever course he took, they would be seeing much of each other in Town come spring, and for now, he was determined to bask in the present moment.
He was partnered with the loveliest lady not only in the room, but in the entire county and perhaps beyond.
Her expertise in the steps, her graceful movements, were the equal of her lovely face, and this dance was entirely blissful.
He was glad that he had managed to ask for the supper set before any of the other hopeful gentlemen in the room, which would allow him to dine and converse with her. Perhaps, just perhaps, he would be able to sense this very evening whether his interest in her was at all reciprocated.