Chapter Five #2
When Bingley and his sisters called at Longbourn later in the week to inquire once again on Miss Bennet’s continued recovery, Darcy declined to accompany them.
He feared the younger Bennet sisters’ propensities for military officers might lead Wickham to be among the Longbourn guests.
Darcy would bide his time until after the Netherfield Ball, and then he would quit Hertfordshire, Mr. Wickham, and Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
“Tonight will be the last time I will see Miss Elizabeth,” he reminded himself as he dressed for the day.
The Netherfield ball will mark my leave-taking.
As odd as it would sound to others, Darcy could not bear the knowledge that she thought poorly of him.
“I must request a dance at this evening’s ball.
After all, I still owe Miss Elizabeth an apology for my snub at the assembly.
” Obviously, having the opportunity to converse with her for half an hour, to feel the warmth of her hand, and to gaze into her eyes had nothing to do with his decision. He wanted only to apologize properly.
Darcy’s anticipation increased as he waited impatiently for the Bennet family’s arrival.
He debated whether to approach Elizabeth for the first dance set, but he decided against it.
Bingley’s neighbors could easily misconstrue his escorting her into the church and then requesting the first dance as a declaration of his intentions.
He would wait until later in the evening.
Dressed in a white, Empire-cut muslin gown, Elizabeth’s appearance took on classical lines.
Beaded hairpins reflected a halo quality, and Darcy gulped for air as he witnessed her entrance into the drawing room.
He watched as she circled, obviously looking for someone in particular.
Of course, he hoped the person might be he, but it was not to be.
She briefly acknowledged his polite inquiries but quickly moved on to find her friend Charlotte Lucas.
As the dance began, the pudgy clergyman claimed Elizabeth’s hand.
Darcy watched with amusement as Mr. Collins, who obviously thought himself to be adept on the dance floor, spent most of his time apologizing for moving in the wrong direction.
Such a disagreeable dance partner should not be wished upon anyone.
Collins’s ineptitude would amplify Darcy’s prowess in the art.
However, Elizabeth’s distress and mortification became so severe, it was all Darcy could do not to interfere and replace Collins in the set somehow.
Elizabeth next danced with an officer, and then she returned to Charlotte Lucas’s company. Darcy decided it was now or never. “Miss Elizabeth, may I apply for the pleasure of the next set?” he said as he bowed to both ladies.
“Mr. Darcy, I … I … I would be pleased.”
Not allowing her the opportunity to change her mind, Darcy took his leave, but when the dancing recommenced, he returned to claim Miss Elizabeth’s hand.
As they took their place in the set at the top of the line of dancers, a place of prestige, Darcy could not help but hope the uniqueness of the situation had impressed her.
Her neighbors recognized the honor he had bestowed on her.
Up until this point, he had only danced with Bingley’s sisters.
Singling Miss Elizabeth out made a statement to all who observed it.
As they danced, Darcy planned to make amends for his earlier cut, but within her presence, he found himself again tongue-tied.
She broke the silence first, commenting on the dance as they waited their turn.
He replied and again fell silent. “It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy,” she challenged.
“I spoke of the dance, and you ought to make some kind of remark on the size of the room or the number of couples.”
He smiled. “Tell me what you most desire to hear, and I will happily comply.”
As they separated, she said pertly, “Very well—that reply will do for the present. Perhaps, by and by, I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones; but now we may be silent.”
He nearly laughed aloud. She obviously demanded the long-overdue apology, but he would make her wait a few more minutes before he offered his amends. Instead, he said, “Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?”
She offered her hand. “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 they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible.”
So, she had noticed his bias for silence. Was Elizabeth suggesting he did not enjoy their conversations? “Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine you are gratifying mine?”
Taking a jab at Darcy’s previous haughtiness, she responded, “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 that will amaze the whole room and be handed down to posterity with all the éclat of a proverb.”
The verbal warfare was back. God, he had missed this foreplay during the ten days since they last spoke! “This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am certain. How near it may be to mine I cannot pretend to say. You think it a faithful portrait, undoubtedly.”
They were again silent until their turn to go down the dance. He did not like the cool turn the conversation had taken. Therefore, Darcy steered their interplay in a different direction. “Do you and your sisters often walk to Meryton?”
“Yes, we do,” she added. “When you met us there the other day, we had just been forming a new acquaintance.”
Darcy’s heart stopped; she was speaking of George Wickham.
He knew Miss Elizabeth had closely observed the exchange between them.
Wickham had, most likely, spoken of their relationship to her.
Most assuredly, the man would not tell her the truth of their dealings.
Darcy’s jealousy increased. Wickham made Elizabeth his intimate with only a few days’ acquaintance.
Anger and disappointment fought for control.
“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.”
“He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship,” replied Elizabeth with emphasis, “and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life.”
Darcy made no response. His rage came close to claiming his tongue; he searched for another subject. He did not want to spend his precious time with Elizabeth speaking of his worst enemy.
Unfortunately, at that moment, Sir William Lucas cut through the set.
“Mr. Darcy, may I compliment you on both your dancing and your choice of partners. It will be my pleasure to see you repeat your choice in the near future.” Sir William gestured towards Bingley and Miss Bennet.
Obviously, the Netherfield neighbors already spoke of the likelihood of upcoming nuptials.
Sir William insinuated Darcy and Elizabeth would often, therefore, be thrown together.
His attention drawn to Bingley and Miss Bennet, Darcy barely heard what Sir William said.
The seriousness of the situation hit him.
Darcy realized he was so enamored with Elizabeth he had not stunted Bingley’s growing attraction for Miss Bennet.
Darcy planned to leave Hertfordshire, but Bingley had taken up residence in Meryton.
He could not permit Bingley to be so foolish; if his friend did not withdraw from the relationship, Bingley would quickly learn to regret Miss Bennet’s bad connections.
The second dance approached; his time with Miss Elizabeth grew short, and Darcy still had not spoken his excuses.
Recovering his composure, he turned to his partner.
However, Miss Elizabeth resisted his suggestions, decrying each hint of civility.
Her words wandered to their earlier conversation, and she exclaimed, “I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy, you hardly ever forgave—your resentment, once created, was unappeasable.” She did not wait for the reply.
“Would it not behoove a person to be accurate in his judgments if there is no room to change one’s mind? ”
His tone was coarser than Darcy intended. “May I ask if you have a particular situation to which you refer?”
“Merely to the illustration of your character,” she sallied. “I am trying to make it out.”
Their parley had taken another unexpected turn. “And what is your success?” Darcy challenged her.
Elizabeth shook her head as if confused. “I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.”
Darcy wanted her to know the real him, but he had no means of changing the opinions she had formed at the assembly.
It was too late for words of regret. Nor could he acquit her of the lies she had heard without putting his sister’s honor on the line.
Darcy would never betray Georgiana. “I can readily believe that reports may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Elizabeth, you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear the performance would reflect no credit on either.”
“Unfortunately, Mr. Darcy, if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity.”