Chapter 15 In Weal and Woe
Standing alone in the entrance hall, Elizabeth’s heart thundered in her ears, and she wiped her clammy hands on her skirt before she could think the better of it.
The preparations for the sumptuous banquet were well on their way with an abundance of peacocks waiting to be roasted, then served with the plumage still on their heads and brought to the table entire.
The house was resplendent, and her courage rose just as Darcy arrived, bracing himself as best he could.
The torches outside the house were already lit, and the servants rushed to light the last of the hundreds of candles inside. The chandeliers were glittering, illuminating the walls with intricate patterns.
“You look radiant, Elizabeth,” Darcy complimented her in a husky baritone.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth replied, brushing imaginary lint from her new white satin gown with a sarcenet overlay. She righted the sparkling Darcy diamonds adorning her neck and touched the combs in her hair to confirm that they were still in the right place.
Lady Matlock arrived early, to show her support by standing with the newly wedded couple in the receiving line. Mrs Bennet and her sisters were exempt from the tedious task. Georgiana was not, as she was the ball’s leading lady and would call the dances.
“I am sorry the colonel’s general prohibited my son from attending your ball.
” Lady Matlock made no comment about the absence of her husband, the earl.
“Wellesley keeps him much occupied with the war and sends him hither and yon, even across the continent. It has been months since I last saw him,” Lady Matlock complained with the expression of a concerned mother.
“Do not feel uneasy.” Elizabeth glanced at her husband, who was particularly close to his absent cousin, but his face was veiled in a forbidding mask of haughtiness. Her heart ached for his obvious discomfort, but it could not be helped.
“The colonel’s efforts for king and country are most admirable. I am certain we shall meet him when his business allows it,” Elizabeth added.
“An officer!” Mrs Bennet cried as she busied by with a floral arrangement in her hands. “You must make sure to introduce him to Mary and Kitty. Oh, I do wish Lydia were here.”
As the addition of Lydia would have enticed the colonel to disregard his war duties and hasten to join our ball, Elizabeth thought uncharitably.
“The colonel is not coming, Mama.”
Mrs Bennet flitted away.
“How many guests are you expecting, Elizabeth?” Lady Matlock enquired whilst tugging at her long silky gloves.
The surge of her stomach falling knocked her slightly off balance and she thanked her husband for his steadying hand.
“I do not know.”
Lady Matlock’s eyes flashed wide in concern before she schooled her features admirably within the next second.
“Have you not counted your rejections and acceptances?”
“I have been so much occupied that I do not have a final count in my head, but I can retrieve the numbers immediately,” she offered.
The responses were either lying on her desk or the butler had put them in Mr Darcy’s study.
“You have no time for that now. It is almost ten, and I can hear a carriage arriving. Brush out your skirt, dearest. It has a crease on the left side.”
Elizabeth hastened to do Lady Matlock’s bidding as the door opened to admit a quarrelsome pair.
“Out of my way!” a lady’s voice she recognised cried. “I outrank you and must take precedence.”
Elizabeth looked at her husband, who almost imperceptibly shook his head. Lady Catherine had originally been on his list of people to invite, but in light of her hostile visit to Longbourn, they had agreed to cross her off the list. How she had received an invitation was a conundrum.
“Lady Catherine de Bourgh!” the butler announced.
Elizabeth’s throat tightened in dread of what the lady might say. She had been loud in her initial disapproval, and Elizabeth was making every effort to correct society’s misapprehensions about her, not add to their grievances.
“I can see that my headstrong brother has not made an effort to come to Mrs Darcy’s ball.
How surprising.” Lady Catherine’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
“You will not find me so cowardly, or so obtuse as to the workings of highborn society. This is not a time to be missish, which is why I have come to lend my support.”
“Thank you, Lady Catherine,” Elizabeth hastened to say while the lady drew breath. It seemed as if the reversal of opinion the lady had made at Longbourn had been in earnest…
“I would have come sooner if not for my Anne’s precarious health.”
“I perfectly understand,” Elizabeth said, nodding.
“Of course you do. You by no means lack understanding, dear niece. Nor compassion. Anne speaks very highly of you and the service you rendered her at Longbourn.”
“I did nothing out of the ordinary, I am sure. Is Miss de Bourgh well?”
“A little better, but I cannot stay long. I return to Rosings tomorrow morning, but I had to come. I am not ignorant of the trouble you are having being accepted into society, and my presence, even for a short spell, will do much to assuage your problem.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Now, where is everybody?”
Elizabeth gestured at the archways created to guide her guests, and the lady strode towards the ballroom.
“Judge Darcy, Mr Augustus Darcy, Miss Clarissa Darcy,” the butler called.
Elizabeth welcomed the imposing man with as much warmth as she could muster.
She had to invite him for the sake of the younger generation, even though she could not manage to like her husband’s uncle.
In the judge’s defence, he had not forbidden his daughter from befriending Mary.
But as that was his only redeeming quality in her eyes, Elizabeth had yet to relinquish her poor first impression.
She greeted his children with genuine pleasure and turned expectantly towards the door.
The next to arrive were her own relations the Gardiners, who bowed and curtsied low to Lady Matlock before greeting the hosts.
Mrs Gardiner looked particularly ill at ease, fidgeting with her reticule, a deep frown marring her pretty face.
Elizabeth was thinking her aunt need not fret on behalf of the Countess of Matlock when Mrs Gardiner leant close to her ear.
“Are we too early? I was sure the invitation said ten o’clock.”
“It did, and you have arrived exactly on time.” Elizabeth knew this because the large clock in the entrance hall had just chimed ten times.
“But…where are the other carriages?”
“What do you mean?” Elizabeth questioned with a sinking feeling.
“We expected to see an extensive line of conveyances and were prepared to wait quite a while to alight. Instead, ours was the only carriage at the front of Darcy House.”
Elizabeth could not help but rush to the door and see for herself. The square looked uncommonly empty, but a lone carriage was moving in her direction, so she hastened back to her husband.
“The Honourable Colonel Greville,” the butler announced, and Mrs Bennet appeared at Elizabeth’s side as soon as the greetings were over.
“Follow me, Colonel,” Mrs Bennet demanded, whisking the officer away.
Five minutes passed before the Honourable Captain Warrender arrived, and soon after, Miss Mildmay and her chaperon.
Perhaps the Bingley party’s perpetual lateness in Meryton was a common occurrence in superior society?
Elizabeth considered asking her husband, but a brewing anxiety about the reply made her hesitate.
Darcy was studying the floor with intensity.
She knew him well enough to understand that tarrying about was his least favourite pursuit, preferring occupation to idleness at all times.
“Perhaps you should count those positive replies…” Lady Matlock suggested when ten minutes passed without any new arrivals.
The butler brought a stack of letters from her sitting room. Elizabeth opened a few to show Lady Matlock.
“Look! They have all accepted. Some terrible accident must be blocking the streets.”
“All of them?” Lady Matlock doubted with raised brows.
The clock struck a mournful chime at half past ten as if to belabour the fact: the ball was an ignominious catastrophe.
Yet, to call it off now was impossible. Four guests who were not a part of their family were waiting in the ballroom, an excess of food was being prepared in the kitchen, and they would probably have enough champagne left to sustain them for the next decade.
Elizabeth did not even like champagne, and she sighed in defeat.
Those present must not be in on this scheme to humiliate the Darcys, and Elizabeth was not going to ruin their night.
“Let us join our guests and commence the dancing.”
Elizabeth conserved what was left of her pride, straightened her back, and walked calmly in the direction of the ballroom.
Thank God my limbs still work. The space looked abandoned with so few occupants.
With all eyes turned expectantly towards her, she might as well have been pilloried in the square.
Her entire face burnt in shame. How she must have disappointed Lady Matlock, her mother, and her sisters.
But most of all her husband, who must be as embarrassed as she, or worse…
He was, after all, accustomed to being sought after and revered amongst the beau monde, whilst she was completely indifferent to their opinion.
She had made every effort, though her best had been thoroughly rejected.
It mattered not as she had friends and family who were far more important to her than haughty London society.
No, it was Darcy’s equilibrium that made her heart ache with concern.
The rebuff must be savage. These were his acquaintances.