Chapter 10
Elizabeth was extremely glad to be in town—more than she had expected to be, and so much so that she hoped her family never found out.
It was no reflection on them, but rather, she attributed it to how she had changed since going to Ireland and seeing more of the world.
It helped that she had a ready friend in Rebecca.
When they had met again, it had been like a month had passed since they were giggling girls together, not seven years.
And almost as soon as she was introduced to Marian Strachan, she had known they would be good friends.
Today’s ball was the first event of its type she had been to in London, and she found it marvellous—apart from the awkwardness of seeing Mr Darcy again.
In past days, Mr and Mrs Frederick Darcy had mentioned their nephew.
Why had she not informed them she had met Mr Darcy, and had, in fact, spent considerable time with him that spring?
She had told Rebecca, but they had not spoken of him, and Elizabeth had the impression she might even have forgot; certainly, she had not told her parents.
From recent conversation, she had expected to see the gentleman that night, which was all the more reason she should have disclosed their prior acquaintance.
Knowing he would be at the ball might have eased the discomfort she felt when their eyes first met, but it did not erase it, and she only hoped the dim lighting would hide her blushes, for she was certain her cheeks were bright red.
I would appreciate it if he did not look at me so much!
Of course, if she avoided glancing in his direction, she would not know he was doing so, but her eyes were drawn to him.
It was only an attempt to determine what he was thinking, if he had a nefarious explanation for her presence in town or amongst his relations, if he thought she was behaving inappropriately, claiming too much familiarity with Lord Bramwell or anyone else.
Well, that is not a mistake I shall make regarding him!
Mr Darcy and I shall never be more than indifferent acquaintances, and even that will be overstating our connexion!
She was mildly curious when his attention turned to two fashionable ladies and a gentleman who had stopped to talk to him, but she soon became engrossed in a conversation with Colonel Fitzwilliam and Marian.
The colonel was not as handsome as his brother or cousin, but he had an amiable air and was quick to smile, and her first impression of him was favourable.
To their side, Elizabeth heard Lord Bramwell, but he did not sound as she remembered him.
He stammered and made little forced laughs.
It seemed his brother wondered at his manner too; Colonel Fitzwilliam glanced at the viscount several times, his brow gently creased.
After several minutes, Mrs Ryde interrupted them. “Lizzy, my dear, there are some people I would like to make you known to before the dancing starts. Miss Strachan, Fitzwilliam, you will not mind if I take her away from you.”
“Not at all,” the colonel said. “Before you do, Miss Bennet, will you do me the honour of saving a set for me?”
“Thank you, sir, I would like that very much,” she said.
They agreed on when they would dance, he immediately asked Marian for a set, and Lord Bramwell—evidently realising what was taking place—also requested Elizabeth dance with him before she and Mrs Ryde moved off.
“They will not be the only gentlemen who ask you,” Mrs Ryde said. “I am pleased you already have friends in town. Another week, and you will have so many, you will not be able to remember who is who or what you are supposed to be doing with which one and when.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I sincerely doubt it, but I promise, I shall reserve a portion of my time for you.”
“I expect Mr Darcy will seek you out for a dance too. I remember visiting Pemberley once when he was a boy, no more than eleven years old, and he explained all the reasons why he thought dancing was silly and disagreeable.” She chuckled.
“I am afraid his opinion has not changed as much as I expected it would. However, I have also heard him say that he does not mind it nearly as much when his partner is well known to him and is interesting to speak to. Since you are both, he will not hesitate to ask.”
Mrs Ryde’s speech seemed meant to encourage her.
Elizabeth had never spoken to her of the final encounter she had had with Mr Darcy in Dublin, but she had admitted that they were not on as easy terms as she and Lord Bramwell were.
At the time, Mrs Ryde had mentioned Mr Darcy’s naturally reserved nature and the weighty responsibilities that had become his upon his father’s death.
It had not made much of a difference to Elizabeth, who was still feeling the sting of his insulting behaviour.
But, at present, she was willing to concede that she did not know him well, and he might improve upon further acquaintance.
Not that she was eager to invest the effort to become more familiar with him.
Darcy wished the Hursts and Miss Bingley had not thought it appropriate to interrupt the conversation he had been having. He supposed it was not impolite behaviour at a ball, but might they not have exchanged pleasantries another time in the coming hours?
“I am so glad to see you, Mr Darcy,” Miss Bingley said, taking a step towards him. “With Charles choosing not to be in town, I was not sure when we would.”
He had no notion what to say to this and offered a brief smile instead.
Bingley’s relations and he were on good terms, but his friendship was with Bingley, not them.
Still, he had no reason to dislike them, and he did not, although his opinion of Mr Hurst was not strong; the man was lazy and had little to say unless it was about sport, gaming, food, or drink.
“You must help us convince Charles to give up that estate he leased,” Mrs Hurst said.
“Caroline and I did our best to tell him not to take it, but he was determined to have his own way.” Her manner made it sound as though Bingley were a schoolboy who had eaten too much cake when told not to and was complaining about the consequences.
“Did he tell you where it is?” Miss Bingley asked. “Such an unfashionable neighbourhood!”
She and her sister went on to describe what they did not like about it—the paltry offerings at the nearest market town’s shops, the lack of ‘decent’ neighbours, et cetera—saying Hertfordshire several times.
Darcy was conscious of Elizabeth standing nearby and hoped she did not hear the ladies speaking negatively of her home county.
Would he have noticed, or worried about, such an occurrence before?
Would he even currently, if the person possibly being injured was someone else, someone he had not himself insulted just months ago? The most likely answer was no.
What if she thinks I agree? Is that what my silence suggests? Her opinion of him had been very low when they had parted ways, and it struck him that he had a chance to rectify the situation. It would be good to do so, given they would see each other while she remained in town.
“Have you been?” Darcy asked Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley.
“They are not wrong,” Mr Hurst said. “I do not have to see the place to know that the neighbourhood is deficient, however fine the estate.”
“Exactly!” Mrs Hurst agreed, slipping her arm about her husband’s.
As earlier, Darcy had no response to this, so he nodded curtly to indicate he had heard.
Wanting to be away from them, he did his duty and asked the ladies to dance.
With a few more pleasantries, they walked on, leaving Darcy with a sense of relief that, with Bingley not in town, he would not have to see them much in the coming weeks.
For some reason, he had found their company extremely difficult to bear that evening, despite the encounter being short in duration.
Knowing Bingley anticipated his family going to Netherfield soon, he pitied him and hoped he was strong enough to withstand their complaints.
Turning back to his companions, he saw at once that Mrs Ryde and Elizabeth were gone, and he looked about, trying to spot them.
It was just as well, he assured himself.
He should keep his distance from her as much as possible, because she affected him too greatly.
Still, he sensed something missing, a light that had faded because of her absence.
I am being ridiculous! The only reason he had thought of her so often these last months was guilt for having misunderstood her position in life and speaking to her as he had.
But surely, he was not solely responsible for their row?
Besides, regardless of the fact that she was not employed as a companion, the differences in their situations were great.
While he would like to be on easier terms with her since, evidently, they would meet regularly, she could never be more to him than a friendly acquaintance.
“What did the ladies have to say?” Fitzwilliam asked him, gesturing towards the retreating forms of Bingley’s sisters.
“Nothing beyond the usual,” Darcy said, not inclined to explain their criticisms of a county they had not visited.
“Are you intending to dance tonight?” his cousin said. “Bramwell and I have already secured sets with all three ladies. We asked Miss Bennet before Mrs Ryde took her to show her off.”
“Show her off?” Darcy said at once. It was an odd statement.
Fitzwilliam gestured impatiently. “Introduce her to people or what have you. Anyone could see how fond she is of the girl. I gather Miss Bennet’s aunt was also her godmother, and they often spent time with Mrs Ryde.
Given that our fathers have been friends with Lord Halsley since they were boys and both knew Mr Ryde, I find it surprising none of us have met her before. ”
“Apparently she has known my Darcy relations for years.” Why had she not told him? Would it have made a difference to how he had viewed her in Ireland?
“Which is also strange, do you not think? If only in that no one mentioned it to you. Enough of that. You are avoiding the question. Will you dance?”
Instead of answering his cousin, he asked Rebecca and Miss Strachan if they had sets available for him. He both regretted and was relieved that Elizabeth was gone and he could not make a similar request of her.