Chapter 19 #2
Everything was proceeding according to their plan. Jane would have two dances with Charles’s doppelganger. While he might not have the privilege of dancing with her twice, she would know that he favoured her, which was more to the point.
As they had planned, Charles returned the favour to Darcy by claiming a set with Miss Elizabeth.
Still, he refused to deny himself the pleasure of dancing with Jane and requested the honour of leading her in the second set.
When she accepted, he reluctantly wrote F.
DARCY on her dance card. After applying to Miss Lucas for the first set, he also scribbled Darcy’s name on her card.
Darcy also claimed a set with Miss Elizabeth, and the evening was off to a splendid start. As with the previous assembly, the hall was crowded and excitement was high. When the master of ceremonies announced the first dance, Charles claimed Miss Lucas’s hand and led her to the set that was forming.
When the music began, he led his partner through the steps. He enjoyed the dance with this lively lady, but even better was the sight of Miss Bennet enjoying his twin’s company.
Although Darcy had stood in for him, she believed she was dancing with Charles and was enjoying his company. Nothing else mattered.
At least that’s what he attempted to tell himself, but if he were being honest, he couldn’t help feeling a bit jealous of his friend.
Darcy even managed to smile as he held her hand.
He knew his friend hated to dance but, to his credit, he put on a good show.
It was the least Darcy could do after putting them both in an untenable predicament.
Thankfully, the dance was too lively and the crowd was too noisy to carry on a conversation, so he need not worry that Darcy would say something he ought not.
Nor could Charles converse with his own partner. Perhaps it was just as well.
When the second set was called, he claimed Jane as his partner. Once the music began, he finally took her hand. It had been a month since he’d had the pleasure of holding his angel’s hand. She smiled, as she usually did, but it was more of a polite smile, not the one she had offered his twin.
Although desolate, he maintained a pleasant facade. As he led her down the dance, he wondered why the gods had chosen that night to crush his spirit.
***
Darcy thanked the gods for the deafening roar of the rowdy crowd.
He wouldn’t be required to converse with his partners that evening.
He had managed the first two sets without embarrassing himself or Charles.
Neither Miss Bennet nor Miss Lucas had shown any indication that something was amiss.
Better still, other than Jane’s mama, no matchmaking mothers had the slightest interest in him.
He could only assume that Mrs Bennet had claimed Bingley for her daughter, and all others had ceded to her.
Darcy was free to talk to anyone he desired without invoking fluttering lashes and longing glances.
How refreshing.
To his dismay, Elizabeth’s set with Mr Collins had been nothing short of a disaster. The blundering fool had stomped through the entire set, frequently colliding with the other dancers and losing his place. He had no possible excuse for embarrassing his partner with such clumsiness.
Fortunately, Elizabeth need not fear that Darcy would disappoint her.
Despite his distaste for the exercise, he was well versed in every modern dance.
Knowing this would be his only opportunity to speak with her, he went in search of her and found her at the refreshment table, sipping punch with Miss Lucas.
“Well, Mr Bingley, how are you enjoying the evening?” Elizabeth inquired, her eyes twinkling merrily.
“I can honestly say that I have never enjoyed an assembly more than this one.”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise. “That’s high praise, indeed.”
“It seems that the entire neighbourhood is in attendance tonight,” he said, scanning the crowded hall.
“Yes, but you may have noticed the absence of one militia officer,” Elizabeth said with a glint in her eye.
Knowing to whom she referred, he glanced around at the abundance of red coats, but none were worn by Wickham. “What a shame. I daresay he is missing a grand event.”
She leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “According to Mr Denny, he meant to avoid a certain gentleman.”
Now that he need not worry about Wickham confronting Charles, he relaxed. “I’m confident that the gentleman appreciates his absence.” When the master of ceremonies announced the third set, he offered his arm. “Shall we take our places, Miss Elizabeth?”
She accepted and walked beside him. “Everyone is remarking that Mr Darcy has already danced twice tonight.”
He had predicted that this crowd would notice his altered behaviour. “I’m afraid that’s my fault. I took him to task for his last performance, and he has promised not to repeat the error.”
She pressed her lips together to stifle a smile. “I shall offer my encouragement when I speak to him.”
He thought it best to change the subject. “Mr Collins’s performance was regrettable.”
She grimaced as though in pain. “Apparently, my cousin’s skills aren’t quite as advanced as he had claimed.”
“I’ll try not to disgrace myself,” he said with a teasing smirk as they took their places.
Her shoulders shook with silent laughter. “I have every confidence in you, Mr Bingley.”
Once the music began, all conversation was at an end.
He longed to share his observations about the evening with her, but had to settle for leading her through a riotous third set, while Charles danced with another Bennet sister, whose name he couldn’t recall.
Still, the feel of Elizabeth’s hand in his, her smile, and her light steps matched with his gave him every pleasure.
The set ended far too soon. Although he was loathed to release her hand, he escorted her across the floor and left her with her elder sister.
He danced next with Maria Lucas, who was an accomplished dancer, but thankfully, he need not speak to her. Other than her name, he could recall nothing notable about her.
When he returned to the refreshment table, he found his next partner, Jane Bennet, for the second time that night. Tongues would surely wag at this second pairing, but he couldn’t renege on a promise. Besides, for once, all the whispers would be about Charles, not Darcy.
***
While Charles danced with Miss Elizabeth, he positioned her close to Jane so he could at least be near her and observe her while she danced with Darcy.
He couldn’t like his friend dancing twice with his angel, but since it had been at his own insistence, neither could he complain.
Hopefully, Jane would understand his intended message.
He was half-tempted to take her into his confidence about his dilemma, but, of course, he would never do so.
Who could expect her to understand something so far removed from reality, so universally impossible?
He doubted he would comprehend the sorcery himself were he not so hopelessly caught in its grasp.
“Will you come to supper whenever you are free, Mr Darcy?” Miss Elizabeth inquired as the set ended.
Although this invitation sent his spirits soaring at the prospect of dining with Jane, Darcy would undoubtedly temper his response. “It would be my pleasure, Miss Elizabeth,” he said in a friendly tone, hoping he would be Charles Bingley by then.
Between sets, he learned from Miss Harrington that Lydia Bennet had been forced to remain at home with a dreadful migraine. The hall had been so filled to capacity that Charles hadn’t noticed her absence, but he expressed his hopes that she would soon be restored to good health.
“Poor Lydia hates being ill almost as much as missing the monthly assembly, but a dark, quiet room will revive her.”
“I’m sorry she had to miss the evening,” he said, then fell into a brown study. He was even sorrier that the evening was nearly at an end. Only two sets remained.
He was beginning to lose all hope of ever returning to his true self.
After four days of rain and innumerable attempts to recreate the precise circumstances that caused their dilemma, he was still trapped in the wrong body.
The likelihood of finding a solution diminished with each passing day. If they hadn’t found one by now—
Good lord, has it been a fortnight already?
“You seem a million miles away, Mr Darcy,” the lady said.
“Forgive me for not attending, Miss Harrington,” he said, now regretting his entire existence.
The way things stood, there were a million miles between him and the real Charles Bingley.
While conversing with Colonel Forster and Mr Denny, Charles was arrested by Mr Collins’s sudden appearance.
“As you know, I am the rector at the Rosings parish, and it shall be my greatest honour to preside over your nuptials,” he said with an air of pious gravity.
Charles stared in astonishment at the man’s indiscrete announcement, within the officers’ hearing. “My nuptials? I fear you have been misinformed.”
“No, indeed, Lady Catherine has often mentioned an arrangement of longstanding, and that the announcement of your union with Miss de Bourgh will soon be forthcoming.”
When the officers looked on with keen interest, Charles assumed a Darcy-like frown. “Shall I assume that you are now the spokesman for the family?”
Collins tilted his head in some confusion. “Certainly not, Mr Darcy, but it’s widely known that you and your cousin will unite Rosings and Pemberley.”
Although Darcy had never mentioned a word about his cousin in Kent, Charles assumed that his friend would be incensed by the parson’s bold presumptions.
“You must forgive me, Mr Collins, since my memory has almost certainly failed me, but I don’t recall giving you leave to bandy my name about in public. ”