Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Dancing with Miss Elizabeth was a far superior experience to anything Darcy could ever have imagined—and, if he were to be honest with himself, Miss Elizabeth’s lovely face and figure had begun to occupy his imagination with alarming frequency.
She moved with an irresistible lightness, and it seemed to him that the music danced for her, not the other way round.
Every so often, she would glance up at him curiously through her long lashes, and a pulse of reckless desire raced through him with an intensity unlike anything else he had ever experienced.
“What shall we speak of?” Miss Elizabeth’s question broke through his introspection.
“Must we speak?”
“Well, yes! If we are to be friends, or close acquaintances.”
“Are we not already thus?”
“As a general rule, I speak more than two or three words to those closest to me. Until we overcome these moments of silence, I fear you shall forever remain an enigma.” Her tone was teasing, but her head was tilted to one side in earnest regard.
“What would you like to discuss?” The notion that she did not think of him as a friend disturbed Darcy more than he cared to admit. “Name your subject and I shall reveal to you my opinion of it.”
“Your views on walls I have already discovered.” She gave him another dazzling smile. “Let us then turn to less weighty topics—what think you of the ball?”
He glanced about the ballroom; he had scarcely noticed it up until this point, his mind had been too occupied with thoughts of his sister and the pleasure of Miss Elizabeth’s arrival, but he could not reveal that to her.
“Bingley has acquitted himself well. It is nothing to the balls of London, but the atmosphere is pleasing, if a touch loud for my preference.”
“Mr Bingley had precious little to do with this evening’s festivities.” She arched a brow at him. “Apart from its inception, which I believe was a spur of the moment decision, all this has been his sisters’ doing. You must not give him any of the credit.”
“Mr Bingley has paid for this ball with money and patience,” Darcy replied, unable to tear his gaze from Miss Elizabeth’s lovely visage. “Do not let him hear you heap praise upon his sisters.”
She replied with a laugh. “You need not have any concerns on that score. Women of superior taste such as Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst have no need for my compliments. But I must own that you are correct—it is Mr Bingley’s generosity that has allowed us to enjoy this wonderful evening.”
The pattern changed and Darcy felt her wait for him to speak. The trouble was that a man could lose himself in those eyes and he found himself quite silenced by her beauty. At last he said, “May I ask, what is your favourite dance?”
If Miss Elizabeth thought his question trite, she did not betray it. “Do not ask me to choose, for I cannot! Whatever dance I am engaging in presently will be the one that has captured my heart—until the musicians take up their instruments and sweep me away into the next.”
Her answer spoke of an honest enjoyment of the moment; without a care for what was fashionable or what others might think.
A powerful emotion stirred deep in Darcy’s breast. Suddenly he had to know the reason behind her reluctance to marry Mr Lucas, and whether her affections were secured by another.
Carefully, he said, “I have another question, and you must pardon its impertinence. It has plagued me ever since our last meeting. What is the history between you and Mr Lucas?”
As soon as he said the words, he regretted them, for Elizabeth pursed her lips and dropped her gaze to the floor. “Forgive me, I should not have asked—in a ballroom, no less.”
She looked back at him and replied with a small shrug of her shoulders. “After you have so valiantly come to my rescue twice now, I could hardly refuse to answer. My behaviour must appear confusing, to say the least.”
“I must confess, my curiosity has been stoked, but I have no wish to be the cause of any distress.”
There was a slight pause, filled only by the distant music, and at last she answered, “It is all because of my godfather.”
“I see.” In fact, Darcy did not understand what this revelation signified in the slightest, but he sensed that there was a burden Miss Elizabeth wished to liberate herself from and waited for her to continue.
“My godfather is the venerated explorer Mr Artur Vanderbeck, and he is one of my father’s oldest friends.
They met at Cambridge. I believe Papa did Mr Vanderbeck a kindness during their first term, and their friendship grew to the point where they are now more like brothers.
Once, I remember, he arrived—unannounced I might add—for my eighth birthday with a pet monkey as a gift for me!
Can you imagine the ensuing chaos? My mother forbade me to keep it, but that was not before the creature turned our house into an uproar.
The roguish ball of mischief stole from the larder and hid items of food in every room.
It even picked a hole in my mother’s favourite sofa and ripped the curtains in our drawing room.
My father just laughed at the damage. There is nothing his dear Artur could do that he would not forgive.
They make an unlikely pair—my father scarcely leaves his book-room, and Mr Vanderbeck travels to the most shocking places, but their friendship has never waned. ”
“I do not understand how this relates to Mr Lucas.”
“Mr Vanderbeck is unmarried, has neither children, nor any other close relative. Moreover, he is an unconventional man who acts as he pleases. I am his only godchild—and the daughter of his oldest friend. Mr Lucas is under the misapprehension that my godfather will secure a generous dowry for me. But he is entirely mistaken, for I am no heiress. In short, he wishes to marry me for a fortune that I will never possess.”
Darcy frowned, thinking of all he had read about Miss Elizabeth’s godfather.
There had been a recent article in The Times.
A diamond mine in Brazil, if he recalled correctly, whose shadowy depths had yielded the most exquisite gemstones ever beheld.
The discovery had come at great cost; several men had been lost during Mr Vanderbeck’s exploits, and the great man himself had been struck down by a fever.
“What has led Mr Lucas to this conclusion?”
Miss Elizabeth turned her head away, the delicate column of her neck burning scarlet.
He sensed her unease and was seized by the impulse to place a comforting hand on her arm—a completely inappropriate action for a ballroom.
She returned her gaze to him, her face blushing furiously.
He did not wish to upset her and said quietly, “You do not have to speak of it, if it causes you any pain.”
Across the ballroom came a familiar shriek, “Oh Mr Bennet, do not be so tiresome! Of course Lydia may partner whomever she wants. To deny such a pretty girl the pleasure of a good dance! Why, I have never heard such a vexing notion.”
He glanced over to where Mrs Bennet was vigorously jabbing Mr Bennet in the stomach whilst gesturing at one of Miss Elizabeth’s younger sisters who was dancing with a rakish-looking young officer.
Elizabeth followed his gaze. “It is not pain, more embarrassment,” she replied, with a hint of sadness.
“Mr Vanderbeck does not approve of my mother. He refused to be godfather to Jane despite my father’s insistence.
I believe it was only out of a desire to provoke Mama that he offered to be mine.
As a child, I did not mind the outrageous gifts or inappropriate tales.
He taught me how to fish and how to tie a reef knot because he knew my mother would disapprove.
Sometimes he would say things in such a way that my mother would believe them to be true, when they could not possibly be so.
It was only as I grew older that I understood his game—he would do these things only to vex Mama, and she was not clever enough to see it. ”
“But what has made Mr Lucas think that you are wealthy?”
“Although she does not like him, my mother has in the past boasted of Mr Vanderbeck’s partiality towards me to her friends.
And he once said in front of Lady Lucas that I am like a daughter to him.
I believe most people in Meryton know the truth of our connexion, but Lady Lucas and her son think I am lying about my dowry to evade fortune hunters.
” She gave a bitter laugh. “The cruel irony being that Mr Lucas never paid me any attention until he went away to London and began to truly comprehend the extent of Mr Vanderbeck’s wealth and influence.
Ever since his return, Mr Lucas has begun to seek out my company in a way that unsettles me.
I do believe my godfather is fond of me, but he has never promised to help me financially. Suffice it to say, I am not wealthy.”
She looked so miserable that for the first time in his life Darcy felt himself wishing he could speak openly and freely with a woman; he dearly wanted to comfort Miss Elizabeth—no, more than that, he wished to be her confidante, that he might know every thought, good or bad, that passed through her mind.
In truth, he desired to know her more intimately than this ballroom would allow.
The music swelled around them, signalling their set would soon end.
Abruptly he asked, “Allow me to request the pleasure of your company for another dance.”
She looked at him in surprise, her cheeks suffused with a delicate blush.
“You need not ask me out of sympathy—you have rescued me once tonight. You have already promised to dance with Jane, and I know that was only to placate my mother. Truly I am grateful, but you must not trouble yourself. Indeed, I do not believe you are fond of dancing.”
Darcy was unaccustomed to such a lukewarm response.
He hid his discomfort with some effort, such was his desire to continue conversing with Miss Elizabeth.
He swallowed his pride—an unfamiliar and unwelcome sensation—and tried again, this time softening his voice.
“In truth, you would be doing me a service, Miss Elizabeth. If I do not dance at least three dances, Bingley will claim it as proof that I do not know how to enjoy myself—and will use it against me whenever I object to one of his ridiculous schemes.”
She laughed heartily, and an absurd dart of pleasure danced through Darcy to know that he had been the man who had caused her to smile so prettily. “I can hardly refuse when you put it like that.” Her gaze softened. “Until later.”
He bowed. “I am all impatience, Miss Elizabeth.”