Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
The next day, while she and Jane walked about the garden, Lizzy attempted to discuss portions of her conversation with Mr. Wickham. She wanted to warn her sister, in the gentlest of ways, to be leery of his attentions.
“Surely he is not as vile as you say,” Jane patted her forearm where their arms linked. “His manners are much too pleasing to hide a vicious nature. Although, I don’t condone what he had to say about Mr. Darcy. If true, then poor Mr. Darcy is all deficient in character.”
“Jane, I’m sorry I bothered you with my musings. You are completely incapable of seeing evil in anyone and this is a conundrum. I cannot make them out.” She squeezed their arms closer together and softly hip bumped her sister. “I give you leave to keep the peace and not worry about either of them.”
“I give you leave to cease your worries as well. This feud does not concern us in any way and you must let them figure these things out.”
“Must I? You know I love a good mystery and if this plays out further before our neighbor and friends, I fear the type of repercussion which might be visited upon Mr. Bingley.”
Their attention was re-directed by the sound of a carriage approaching bearing the very person of whom they’d just been speaking.
“It’s Mr. Bingley!” Jane cried out, a slight blush making her cheeks rosy and fresh.
It did not miss Lizzy’s attention that her sister had not even commented how the esteemed gentleman was accompanied by his sisters.
A slight oversight, but then, Jane was well on her way to being in love with the happy young man and that type of behavior might be expected.
Also expected was the behavior of Miss Bingley and her sister.
They gushed over Jane, exclaiming how delighted they were to see their dear friend again.
Elizabeth thought for sure she’d become dizzy with the amount of eye rolling she did behind their backs.
Although Jane sent her a chastening look, she wasn’t worried.
The ladies from Netherfield paid scant attention to the rest of the Bennet family, focusing all their efforts on Jane, declaring they’d had no good society in the house since she left and what had she been doing whilst separated from them.
Lizzy stifled a very unladylike snort at that comment.
As if their lives revolved around the comings and goings of people they’d only known for a few months.
The rest of the family either didn’t realize or completely disregarded their rude behavior as they’d come bearing invitations to the long-awaited ball at Netherfield.
Elizabeth also felt a stirring of excitement.
A private ball was not as crowded, usually with equal number of gentlemen to ladies and the likelihood of not dancing all sets were slim to none.
Would Mr. Darcy ask her to dance? She shook her head at the fanciful thought.
He may dance with her in her dreams but in real life, Mr. Darcy was too high above her station and she’d do well to keep her feet grounded in the rich soil of Hertfordshire.
So caught up in her musings she didn’t see Mr. Collins slide in beside her as they watched the carriage taking Mr. Bingley and his sister off to their next call.
“May I take this opportunity of soliciting a dance at the ball, Miss Elizabeth.”
“I did not think you would dance, Mr. Collins.”
“I have no objections to a ball given by such as man as Mr. Bingley. I hope to be honored with the hands of all my fair cousins during the course of the evening.” He turned fully to face her, almost bowing as he spoke the next words.
“I take this opportunity of soliciting yours, Miss Elizabeth, for the first two dance especially.” He raised moon calf eyes to hers.
“A preference which I trust my cousin Jane will attribute to the right cause, and not to any disrespect to her.”
Any hope of enjoying all aspects of the ball disappeared as his meaning became clear.
She wanted to flee and not return until after Mr. Collins’ removal.
She wanted to cry out and stomp her feet like Lydia.
She wanted, desperately, to avoid a confrontation with not only Mr. Collins, but also her mother.
Instead, she accepted, because to refuse meant she couldn’t accept any other dances for the evening complete.
Foolish man! Why couldn’t he have asked for the fourth or fifth set?
Although she’d suspected Mama pushed him in her direction, his bumbling request solidified the fact and now everyone in Meryton would assume there was an understanding between them.
Over the course of days preceding the Netherfield ball, she suffered the increasing attentions of Mr. Collins, who frequently complimented her wit and vivacity and dropped none too subtle hints of how she’d like Hunsford parsonage, and how they’d assist in forming a quadrille at Rosings Park in the absence of more eligible visitors.
The more his interest in her grew, the more smug Mama became.
Well, two could play at that game. He hadn’t proposed and still might change his mind, so she pretended his hints fell on deaf ears and acted as though she had not one care in the world.
When - if - the moment arrived, she’d face her consequences then.
No sooner had her patience, sorely tried by her cousin, her mother and two youngest sisters, reached its zenith, the skies opened up and rain poured from then until the day of the ball.
She became desperate to escape Longbourn for a much need walk to Oakham Mount and didn’t know who was more agitated.
Herself, because her desired avenue to avoid the increasing attentions of Mr. Collins was curtailed by the relentless downpour, or her sisters who couldn’t find out any new gossip from their Aunt Philips about the officers.
It was with great relief when the day of the ball dawned bright and sunny with nary a cloud in the sky, although the road remained too muddy for walking and their activities were still curtailed to within the walls of Longbourn.
With the sun came a brightening of spirits.
She’d perform her duties and dance with Mr. Collins and with luck avoid him the rest of the ball.
In no way would she allow her neighbors think there was any agreement on her part for a hasty marriage before he left for Hunsford and the great Lady Catherine.
As much as Mama whispered in her neighbor’s ears, she would do her best to negate them.
Upon entering the drawing room at Netherfield Park, Lizzy was astonished by the number of people clustered about in small groups.
It seemed as though everyone issued an invitation had attended and there was enough red coated gentleman to make her younger sisters dizzy with joy.
Further perusal assured her Mr. Wickham was not among the gentleman in attendance from the ____shire Militia and her shoulders sagged in relief.
Until that moment she hadn’t realized how much he put her on edge, although after their conversation at her Aunt’s card party he hadn’t sought her out and instead focused his attention on her two younger sisters, which both pleased and alarmed her.
He attempted to appear casual but to the discerning eye, his actions and behaviors were too controlled.
He had a motive for seeking their attention but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
Attempts to discuss her thoughts and reservations with Papa had been severely curtailed by the presence of Mr. Collins who’d clung to her side like a limpet.
At one time, as she started upstairs to take care of necessary needs, he trailed behind rhapsodizing about the staircase at Rosings Park.
She’d paused on the first step and faced him, saying, “Mr. Collins. It was Ruth who followed, not the other way around. I need some privacy, sir.”
Her mother thought his marked attention wonderful, her younger sisters laughed and teased until she gritted her teeth in frustration and her father didn’t want Mr. Collins invading his privacy and therefore banned her from seeking him out whilst his cousin was in attendance.
The only balm to her soul was Jane, who found various excuses to direct his pea brain in other directions and made sure she was never alone in his company.
But, Longbourn was only so big and she hadn’t been able to avoid him complete unless she escaped to her bed chamber, where he’d had the temerity to jiggle the door knob after knocking and receiving no reply.
Since then, she’d propped a chair under the door knob so there would be no accidental compromise in the middle of the night, even though the room was shared with her sister.
The opening strains for the first set began and she straightened her shoulders in preparation of Mr. Collin’s requested sets.
She dreaded the upcoming half hour and her dismay morphed into mortification within the first two stanzas.
Mr. Collins, awkward and solemn, moved wrong without being aware of his mistake.
His attempts to flatter and converse with her only increased his clumsiness.
He’d forget his steps and bump into other dancers, disrupting their pleasure by attempting to bow low as he apologized, yet again.
The moment the final note played and the parody of their dance concluded, she dropped his hand and moved off the floor.
Never again! Without so much as a backward look in his direction, she went off in search of Charlotte Lucas, finding her in one of the drawing rooms. She hurried toward her great friend, whom she’d not seen in over a week with outstretched hands.
“Charlotte, I have missed your company so much.”
“And I yours.”