Chapter 4 #5
Elizabeth had another surprise when she discovered that they were placed close to Lady Cassandra at the table. At her ladyship’s right was Mr Darcy, and next to him Mrs Gardiner; she, Elizabeth, was most happily situated between her uncle and Colonel Fitzwilliam, facing her aunt.
During supper, Elizabeth allowed herself a few minutes to reflect on the evening.
She was having a better time than she had expected; her aunt and uncle seemed to enjoy themselves even more than she and looked perfectly easy, content to ignore the sharp looks and whispers from some of the guests.
She knew her relatives to be fashionable people, accustomed to London society, but their boldness in joining Lady Cassandra and her partner for the waltz surprised Elizabeth.
However, her ladyship was exceedingly pleased they had joined her and Colonel Fitzwilliam—of that, there was no doubt.
Colonel Fitzwilliam was as agreeable and friendly during dinner as he was the entire evening.
Elizabeth found herself laughing a few times at his exchanges with Lady Cassandra.
Mr Darcy, on the other hand, was considerably more serious; his gaze travelled along the table more than once, carefully watching all the guests.
Sometimes she met his look, and sometimes she only felt it burning her face, yet each time her reaction to him was equally strong.
Her doubts concerning the nature of Mr Darcy and Lady Cassandra’s relationship remained.
At one point Elizabeth heard some whispered speculations about a possible engagement to be announced between the two of them, and for a moment, she was afraid the rumours might prove to be correct.
However, she put aside that worry quite soon; Mr Darcy’s attentions toward her—repeated and openly displayed—were the strongest proof that his interest, affection and honour were not engaged elsewhere.
About Lady Cassandra’s interest and affection, she could not be certain; however, her ladyship by no means showed any kind of jealousy nor did she try to keep Mr Darcy’s attentions to herself.
Except that she placed him at her right, she thought, and then instantly scolded herself for her silent doubts.
The most intriguing character for Elizabeth was Lord Markham, who was seated quite close to them—probably because that seat was planned for someone else.
Mr Darcy and the colonel seemed to share the same ill opinion of the viscount.
Their dislike was so obvious that they avoided him in their conversations and made no attempt to answer his direct questions.
Elizabeth was certain that the reasons for their negative opinion must be quite serious; however, the viscount did not seem affected by their disregard of him in the slightest. From time to time, he cast quick glances at Lady Cassandra, but her ladyship patently ignored him the entire evening.
Elizabeth could not ignore him as Lord Markham continued to extend his courtesy toward her.
She tried to remain polite, yet she became more restrained with her smiles; she was afraid he might take her mere politeness as a sign of encouragement.
She shuddered to think of the talent she seemed to possess to attract persons whom she wished to avoid.
The second part of the evening was equally as pleasant. Elizabeth was engaged for every set and once more danced with Lord Markham—to whom she made a marked effort to behave politely but distantly—and with the colonel, with whom she experienced nothing but delight.
However, with every hour that passed, Elizabeth grew more distressed, enjoying her time less and less.
All she could think of was their imminent departure and her separation from certain acquaintances she truly did not wish to leave.
A few times, she was certain Darcy could understand her thoughts and—daring presumption! —experience the same feelings.
Immediately after supper, he had asked her if she was engaged for the last set.
Fortunately, she was not, and he immediately secured it for himself.
For the remainder of the ball, he availed himself of every opportunity to be near her.
In fact, he spoke very little with anyone else except Lady Cassandra and the colonel—who teased him about his sudden low spirits and constant gaze that rarely left her.
When the last set was announced, he gravely and silently claimed her hand, holding it tightly. They barely talked at all for the entire half hour—yet Elizabeth felt no need for words. Everything that could be said between them had been said.
Although she was not completely free of doubt, the intensity of his gaze, the light brushing of his fingers against hers, the bittersweet look of sadness mixed with contentment, the tentative smile that appeared on his lips from time to time—all boded well for their expected meeting at Pemberley.
All of this left her with many hopes—hopes for her sister, hopes for herself, and hopes for the future.