Chapter 40 The Netherfield Ball
Jane and Mr. Bingley moved to the entrance to greet the guests as they arrived for the ball. Mrs. Gardiner excused herself to seek out Kitty and Georgiana.
Elizabeth remained where she was, watching her neighbors as they entered the room, when Mr. Balfour approached.
“Miss Bennet, may I request your first available set?”
“The cotillion is open, sir.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” He bowed and withdrew. As she wrote his name upon her card, Mr. Griffen, the third of Mr. Bingley’s guests, came forward and asked her for a dance. He remained at her side conversing until Mr. Allen approached.
“I have come to claim your hand for my dance, Miss Bennet.”
“I am ready, sir.” She allowed him to lead her onto the floor.
He turned to catch her eyes and asked, “Is there an understanding between you and Mr. Darcy, ma’am?”
She looked at him in surprise. “An understanding, sir?”
“Is he courting you, Miss Bennet?”
Her expression relaxed. “No, sir. Mr. Darcy takes pleasure in vexing me. He is not courting me. We have known one another for several months, and I assure you that he has no such intention.” He led her into the line.
“His sister is a close friend of mine, and I believe he sometimes treats me as though I were another sister.” She said this with a laugh.
“Mr. Allen, you do not appear convinced.”
“I must admit that I am not convinced. Yet I shall not pursue the matter further, for I would not risk placing ideas in your mind that are not already there, nor would I chance to drive you into his arms.”
She laughed at his tease. “Sir, you need not fear such a result. As far as Mr. Darcy is concerned, I can do nothing correctly.”
The music began, and the dance commenced. Once again, Elizabeth kept Mr. Allen amused, and when the set ended, he said, “I regret that I may dance with you only twice this evening, or I would request another.”
“I would be willing to sit out a dance with you, sir, if you truly wish it.”
His eyes brightened. “Would you? I had supposed that every young lady desired to dance through the night.”
“This young lady also enjoys conversation, sir. Though you have kept me well entertained, you have also touched upon matters that concern me regarding the war, and I should welcome the opportunity to speak with you further.”
“If that is so, Miss Bennet, which dance will you sit out with me?”
She opened her card. “The third set is open, sir.”
He took the pencil from her hand and wrote his initials upon the card. Then he looked at her with a playful expression.
“As Mr. Darcy has said, a gentleman must secure his own interests.”
Her eyes widened at the remark, yet at that moment Mr. Balfour approached and claimed her hand, and she went with him.
When she raised her eyes, she saw Mr. Darcy’s gaze upon her, his expression dark. She very nearly huffed aloud in frustration. How had she come to form an attachment to so ill-tempered a gentleman?
If she were fortunate, Mr. Allen might build upon his promising beginning and seek further acquaintance with her. He was amiable and intelligent, and she believed she would come to love him in time.
Her dance with Mr. Balfour began, and she was pleased to learn that he also possessed a lively manner. Before the set concluded, he laughed at her remarks almost as readily as Mr. Allen had done, but she did not find herself drawn to him as she was to Mr. Darcy.
Mr. Allen met Elizabeth and her partner as the dance concluded.
“Come, Miss Bennet. I have obtained a cup of punch for both of us, and I have secured a comfortable sofa where you may rest your feet.”
He led her to the sofa and took a cup from a table that stood nearby. He handed it to her and seated himself beside her.
“Tell me, Miss Bennet, what did you wish to ask regarding the war?”
She studied his face and saw that he was sincere, and she asked her question plainly.
“In what ways do the Spanish assist the British army in the Peninsular War, sir? Or do our soldiers fight alone and unsupported by the local population?”
“Miss Bennet, do you have family engaged in the war?”
“No, sir, not family. Two friends from my childhood are serving there, and we are concerned for them. Their mothers receive letters very seldom, and sometimes two will arrive together after a long silence.”
Her eyes held sadness. “I have often wondered whether, if one of my friends were injured, a kindly woman might take him in and nurse him, or whether the Spanish fight against our men.”
Mr. Allen replied, “You need not fear for your friends, Miss Bennet. Most often, Spanish civilians shelter our soldiers in their homes. They provide food and water, conceal them from French patrols, and even assist them with transportation from one place to another.”
“This gladdens my heart, sir. I shall be certain to share this with their mothers. No one suffers so much as a mother who has a son away at war.”
Both Elizabeth and Mr. Allen were interrupted then by Mr. Darcy.
Looking annoyed, he reproved her. “Miss Bennet, it is not proper for you to remain secluded upon this couch, conversing with a gentleman you have but just met, while a dance is in progress. If you are not dancing, you ought to be under the chaperonage of your aunt.”
Elizabeth was angered by this, and both men could see her vexation plainly on her face.
Mr. Allen stood and offered his hand. “Come, Miss Bennet, allow me to escort you to your aunt, and we may finish our discussion there.”
Elizabeth saw that he was perfectly content to accompany her. She took his hand and rose, smiling now. “Thank you, Mr. Allen. That would be very agreeable.”
All three walked to where Mrs. Gardiner and her two charges stood.
Georgiana approached her brother. “Fitzwilliam, will you dance with me?”
Mr. Darcy took her hand. “Yes, my dear. Come.”
Mr. Allen watched as Darcy led his sister onto the floor, then he turned toward Elizabeth. He said, “Did I answer your question, Miss Bennet?”
“Yes, sir, you did. Now I find myself wishing to learn more about you. Do you spend most of your time in London?”
They spoke together without interruption until the next dance began, and Elizabeth’s hand was claimed by Mr. Fletcher, a widower who lived in Harpenden.
She danced every set until Mr. Darcy claimed her for the waltz. As they stood facing one another, awaiting the music, he said, “You appear to enjoy Mr. Allen’s society, Miss Bennet.”
“I do, sir. Anyone may know it. He is a respectable gentleman, and I see no reason to conceal my regard.”
“It is not considered proper to wear one’s heart upon one’s sleeve,” he replied.
“Sir, we have only met this evening for the first time. I think it impertinent to suppose I have formed a tendre upon so slight an acquaintance. Really, Mr. Darcy, I had believed better of your understanding.”
His lip quirked up on one side. “I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet. I was too hasty in drawing my conclusions.”
The music began. He placed one arm about her back and took her hand in the other. He was a fine dancer, and she was soon lost in the music, in the warmth of his hands, and in the depth of his dark eyes.
She became aware of the moment when his hand slipped to her waist, when his fingers spread there, and he slowly drew her nearer until they were almost in an embrace.
He appeared scarcely conscious of it himself.
He continued to dance in silence, guiding her with ease, his gaze fixed upon her as they moved with the music.
When the dance ended, he was slow to release her. For a moment, she remained standing with his hand still resting upon her waist, his other hand closed around hers. At last, he released her and bowed.
He offered his arm, escorted her back to her aunt, and then quietly withdrew.
Mr. Bingley claimed Elizabeth for the next set and led her into the line for a country dance.
“Sister, it appears that you command the attention of two gentlemen.”
She raised her eyes to him. “Are you teasing me, sir?”
“No, ma’am. I must tread carefully, lest either Darcy or Allen offer correction if I set a foot wrong for any reason.”
Elizabeth glanced across the room. Her brother-in-law was correct. Both Mr. Allen and Mr. Darcy were watching them with marked attention.
She laughed lightly. “Perhaps it is I whom they observe, that they may find fault. Mr. Darcy has discovered nothing to commend and everything to censure in my deportment.”
Mr. Bingley replied, placating. “Darcy can be brusque, Lizzy, but he means well. He is forever correcting me, and I must admit that I am the better for it.”
“Thank you, sir. I shall endeavor to take comfort from your observation.”
The next was the supper set.
When Mr. Darcy approached, his gaze passed over her in a marked, proprietary manner. He led her onto the floor and said, “You have danced most of the night, Miss Bennet.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Your partners appear to take great pleasure in your company, ma’am.”
“I believe that they do, Mr. Darcy.”
“Yet, so many of our conversations end in vexation. Why is that, Miss Bennet?”
Her eyes were reproachful. “Perhaps it is your propensity towards ill temper, Mr. Darcy.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, sir. During these weeks we have lived together at Netherfield, that has been my experience. Your manner toward me has altered the longer we remain under the same roof, and I can seem to do nothing right.”
The music began, and they entered the dance.
Elizabeth did not exert herself to keep Mr. Darcy entertained, and he observed it.
“Miss Bennet, have you run out of conversation, ma’am?”
“No, sir.”
“You appear very quiet for so lively a woman. May I know the reason for your churlish manners?”
Elizabeth was surprised into smiling. “I am not churlish, sir. I am only minding my tongue lest I say something you find vexatious and you reproach me here upon the dance floor.”
They were separated then by the figure of the dance. When they came together again, he said, “I do not scold you, and I certainly would not do so in public, even if I believed it necessary.”