Chapter 40 The Netherfield Ball #2
Elizabeth said, “Is that so, sir? What was it that you did when I was speaking with Mr. Allen?”
Mr. Darcy replied, “That was a necessary correction, ma’am. It was not a scold. I did not raise my voice, nor did I demean you in any manner. I merely pointed out that you were acting inappropriately by hiding in a corner of the room away from your chaperone.”
She sighed. “It is clear, sir, that I shall never prevail in an argument with you. Therefore, I shall watch my tongue, as I was doing before.”
They remained silent for the rest of the dance.
When it concluded, he led her to the supper table and seated her. “I shall return with our plates.”
Georgiana and Kitty arrived a moment later and seated themselves on the other side of Elizabeth.
Kitty set her dance card down on the table. “I shall fetch the plates for us. Georgiana, you remain to hold our places.
Elizabeth turned toward the young girl. “Have you had many dances, Georgiana?”
“Yes. I have danced with Mr. Gardiner, Mr. Bingley, three with my brother, Mr. Collins, and Miss Lucas’s younger brother, who is only fourteen. He acquitted himself well, Lizzy, though he is very young.”
“How came your brother to allow that dance?”
“He said that since Mr. Lucas is not yet fifteen, the rules did not apply to him.”
Elizabeth laughed. “That was very convenient, I should say. And with whom did Kitty dance?”
Georgiana answered, “With all the same gentlemen, except that Mr. Lucas danced two with her, for he says they are nearly brother and sister.”
“Yes, that is true. All the Lucases are like family to us.”
Mr. Darcy returned with their plates. “Miss Elizabeth, try this sausage. It is seasoned to perfection. I am told that the crabcakes and pickles are also very tasty.”
Elizabeth bit into a piece of sausage and closed her eyes with pleasure. She said, “This is truly delicious. I shall have to ask Jane where she purchased it.”
Mr. Darcy tasted a chicken pie. “This pie is also very good.”
When Kitty returned with food for the two girls, he drew nearer to Elizabeth.
“Miss Bennet, I wish to apologize for quarreling with you in recent weeks. You have shown great patience, and I must concede that you often turn the matter with your charming witticisms.”
Elizabeth looked into his dark eyes. His manner showed sincerity, and he was indeed apologizing for his ill humor.
“Thank you, sir, for the apology.”
It was all she could say. Her eyes dropped from his, and she busied herself with her supper. His churlishness had wounded her, and she still felt the sting of his earlier reprimand in the presence of Mr. Allen.
Between his manner and that of Miss Bingley, she had questioned her determination to remain at Netherfield. Knowing he would soon depart Hertfordshire forever, she acknowledged her wish to remain near him while she could, for once he was married, she would never see him again.
Caroline Bingley then came to mind, and Elizabeth looked about the room until she saw her seated with Mr. Balfour. She appeared pleased in the man’s company.
“Miss Bennet, you are very quiet. Are you well?” Mr. Darcy was studying her face; he appeared concerned.
Elizabeth raised her eyes to meet his. He was a handsome man. She wished to touch the lock of hair that fell across his brow. The planes of his face once again called to mind the mythical gods she had seen in illustrations in her father’s books.
She resolved then to return to Longbourn on the morrow, particularly now that the ball had concluded. She did herself no service by remaining beneath the same roof with him. Her feelings for him deepened with every passing day, while he trifled with her affections and did not even realize it.
Blue-deviled, she poked at her food with her fork and wished herself at home, where she might give way to tears. She exerted herself to answer him. “Sir, I am perfectly well, only fatigued. I beg you will forgive my want of spirits.”
After supper, Mr. Darcy escorted her back to the dance floor, and Mr. Allen claimed her hand for La Boulangère. They began the dance in silence, but Mr. Allen, observing the heaviness of her spirits, addressed her.
“Miss Bennet, has something occurred? Did Mr. Darcy vex you?”
She forced a smile. “No, sir. He did not say or do anything to vex me.”
Then she resorted to evasion. “Mr. Allen, did you know that we lost our mother but six months ago? At times, I think of her, and my spirits are cast down. She would have delighted to see Jane established as the mistress of Netherfield.”
He looked into her eyes, and Elizabeth met his gaze and continued, “I do not know how to account for it. While she lived, I often found her very difficult to live with, and yet here I am...”
As the figure carried him from her, he pressed her hand. When he returned, he said, “Perhaps that is the reason you miss her so keenly. Had you the opportunity to speak with her before she passed?”
“No, sir. I was attending to my father, who had fallen ill. We feared we might lose him, for he is ten years older than she. He recovered, and she did not. It was a great shock, sir.”
Again, they moved apart in the figure of the dance. During that brief separation, Elizabeth struggled to pull herself from the melancholy into which thoughts of Mr. Darcy had plunged her. When the figure brought them together again, she had regained some command over herself.
“Let us turn the topic, sir, before I draw you into a melancholy as well.”
He laughed. “I do not believe you could either cast me into melancholy or cause me to be vexed with you, Miss Bennet. Your sweetness and loveliness make that nearly impossible.”
Laughter brightened her eyes, and she said, “Sir, you are flirting with me.”
“Yes, ma’am, I am. Do you find it pleasurable?”
“I do.”
“Then allow me to continue.”
They spent the remainder of the dance in mild flirtation, and they kept each other in a continual state of amusement and laughter.
When the dance concluded, he returned her to her aunt and lingered until he left in search of his next partner.