Chapter Two #2
"You have attended dinners and small assemblies, which is not at all the same thing. You have never opened a ball in your own home and it is long past time that you did so."
"My health requires I do not dance," she said, her eyes flitting between her male cousins as though desperately hoping one or the other would intervene.
"Nonsense. Your health has been much improved this spring, and Darcy will guide you through the first set. It will be an excellent opportunity for the neighbourhood to see you together in the position you ought naturally to occupy."
His aunt continued without pausing for breath, already arranging the evening in her mind.
"The ball shall take place one week from tomorrow.
That will allow sufficient time to invite every respectable family within twenty miles, though naturally I shall be particular.
The Collinses must attend, of course. Mrs Collins is connected to several tolerable families, and her friend may be admitted to make up numbers. "
Elizabeth would still be at Hunsford. Darcy knew the date of her intended departure because he had heard Mrs Collins mention it at a previous dinner and stored the information away.
The knowledge that he might be forced into the same room as her again sent equal measures of dread and longing through him.
"I shall not be here," he said, although even to his own ears, his voice did not sound firm.
Lady Catherine waved one hand as though dismissing a minor objection. "You have already said that you wish to leave, but whatever business awaits you may wait until after the ball. You will open it with Anne, and the matter is settled."
Anne closed her book and looked meaningfully at Darcy. "I would rather not open the ball at all."
"You are nervous because you have not been accustomed to displaying yourself. That is precisely why the evening is necessary. Darcy has known you all his life and will ensure that you acquit yourself properly."
He had spent years allowing Lady Catherine to speak of his marriage to Anne as though it were already decided, believing there was no need to contradict plans in which he had never intended to participate.
He had never promised to marry his cousin and had therefore considered his conscience clear.
After Elizabeth’s accusations that afternoon, his silence no longer seemed so harmless.
"I will not open the ball with Anne," he said.
Lady Catherine turned slowly towards him. "I beg your pardon?"
"Anne has said she does not wish it, and neither do I. There is no reason for either of us to make a display merely because you have decided that we ought."
"You are not being asked to make a display. You are being asked to perform your duty to your family. Anne is your cousin, she has always looked to you for support and it has long been understood that the two of you would eventually—"
"I will not insist that Anne open the ball if she does not feel equal to it," Darcy said before his aunt could complete the thought.
"Anne has said she does not wish to dance. Her comfort ought to be considered before any display for the neighbourhood."
"You speak as though I have asked her to perform at Covent Garden. She is to open one set with her cousin in her own home. Darcy has known you all your life," Lady Catherine continued, turning towards her daughter. "There can be no gentleman with whom you might feel more at ease."
Anne’s fingers tightened around the book in her lap. "I do not think I should feel at ease before half the county, Mama, whoever my partner might be."
Lady Catherine waved this away. "You have been allowed to indulge your nerves for too long. A little exertion will do you good, and Darcy will ensure that nothing is required of you beyond your strength."
Darcy looked at Anne. She was trying to appear composed, but the plea in her eyes was obvious.
He had allowed Lady Catherine to speak of their marriage for years because he knew it would never happen and saw no reason to argue.
He had never stopped to consider how the situation might be affecting Anne.
"If Anne wishes to dance when the evening comes, I shall gladly partner her," he said, keeping his voice measured. "But I will not have her compelled to do so."
Lady Catherine regarded him with displeasure, though not alarm. "Anne will feel differently when she has had time to consider the importance of the occasion. You are both determined to make difficulties where none exist."
She turned towards her daughter with an expression that brooked no argument. "The ball will proceed as planned. You will rest for much of the coming days and open the evening with Darcy. Once you have begun, you will wonder why you made such a fuss."
Anne lowered her gaze, recognising that further protest would achieve nothing.
Lady Catherine had already turned her attention to the flowers, instructing an overwrought servant to list every bloom in the hothouse before dinner.
As far as she was concerned, the matter was settled.
Anne would open the ball with Darcy, and neither of them would be permitted enough say in the matter to spoil her plans.
???
After an interminable hour in which Lady Catherine discussed every possible detail of the ball and Darcy contemplated repeatedly striking his head against the marble mantel, he was finally able to escape to his room.
He tore off his coat and waistcoat, spent several frustrating minutes wrestling with his boots because he lacked the patience to summon his valet and dragged the tightly knotted cravat from his neck.
Freed from the worst of his attire, he felt able to breathe a little more easily, though that was the only improvement in his condition.
He had intended to begin immediately on the letter he knew he must write, but the news of the ball and blocking of his means of escape had unsettled him to such an extent that he could not bring himself to sit at the desk.
He lay flat upon the bed instead, staring at the ceiling with its garish rococo moulding and wishing himself almost anywhere else in England.
Unfortunately, solitude only allowed visions of Elizabeth to pass through his treacherous mind without interruption.
There she was at Netherfield with her skirts streaked with mud and her chin tilted in defiance as she informed Miss Bingley that she must see her sister immediately.
Then she was bent over a book in the library, a smile touching her rosebud lips while one finger played absently with a glossy dark curl.
She was beautiful, certainly, but not in the still, affected manner of so many ladies of his acquaintance.
Elizabeth was always in motion, as though there was too much of the world to explore and experience for her to remain still for very long.
It was that liveliness of both body and mind which had first caught his attention.
By the time he looked into her eyes, sparkling with challenge as they danced at the Netherfield ball, he had known he was lost.
It was that realisation that sent him running from Hertfordshire, even allowing the dreadful Miss Bingley to assist in the escape.
He had told himself he was protecting Bingley and preserving Georgiana from unsuitable connections, but the truth was far less flattering.
He was terrified that anyone, never mind a country Miss, could unsettle his equilibrium so entirely.
He had barely slept while she remained under the same roof, his body so aware of her nearness that he had to restrain himself from going to her room in the middle of the night and throwing himself on her mercy, begging her to marry him.
In hindsight, that may have been the more sensible approach.
How had he managed to make such a mess of everything? Darcy groaned and dragged a feather pillow over his face. His thoughts were interrupted by a violent hammering upon the door, followed by a muffled and distinctly feminine voice. "Richard, really. He may not wish to be disturbed."
Before Darcy could answer, the door swung open and he heard Fitzwilliam stride into the room with all the delicacy of an elephant. "What ho, Darcy. Thinking of ending it all? I should not have thought self-smothering the most dependable method."
Darcy pulled the pillow from his face and threw it at him. Fitzwilliam caught it against his chest, looking very pleased with himself, while Anne entered with more hesitation and closed the door gently behind her. "I did suggest that we knock," she said.
Fitzwilliam looked at her with an expression of angelic innocence that his fair good looks and clear blue eyes lent themselves to. "We did knock."
"We did nothing. You attempted to break down the door and could easily have brought Mama bearing down upon us."
Fitzwilliam inclined his head with exaggerated solemnity. "A fair point well made, my dear."
Anne made a dismissive sound and moved to sit at the end of the bed, smoothing her skirts around her.
Darcy pushed himself upright and ran one hand over his face. He had neither the patience nor the energy for either of them. "What do you want?"
Fitzwilliam tossed the pillow onto a chair and looked Darcy over with interest. "An explanation would be a promising beginning. You returned from Hunsford looking as though you had lost a pound and found a penny, then began spouting nonsense about an urgent return to Pemberley."
Anne held out a hand to quiet him before turning to Darcy with gentle concern. "He expresses himself like an oaf, but Richard is right. You did not look at all yourself when you returned. What has happened? Is it to do with... with Miss Elizabeth?"