Chapter 17 #2
One of the Gardiners’ footmen standing close to the receiving line, did hear.
He was sure this was something the master and mistress should know.
He was not surprised Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley had not thought of his presence.
He and other servants were always invisible to them unless they needed something.
Darcy descended the stairs as the Bennets were walking down the hallway leading to the ballroom.
It was almost like he had no control of his feet.
He found himself following them, his eyes fixed on Miss Elizabeth’s back.
Her gown was hunter-green, which he was sure matched her eyes very well.
Her hair was piled up on top of her head with some curls hanging down on the sides and back.
Darcy could only imagine what running his fingers through her hair would feel…
He stopped himself. He had to cease thinking of her so.
He was a Darcy of Pemberley; he could never marry the daughter of an insignificant country squire with relatives in trade.
On entering the ballroom, Elizabeth ducked out of Mr Collins’s field of vision and went to stand next to Charlotte. Charlotte looked at her questioningly. “I am using your height so that my cousin does not see me,” Elizabeth explained.
“Do you mean the rotund man who is looking around?” Charlotte inclined her head.
“The very one. I am so afraid he will try and force my hand by proposing at the ball. It will not work, I will never marry him,” Elizabeth insisted.
“He is a parson with a living, is he not?” Charlotte enquired. She saw her friend nod. “And he is your father’s heir, the one who will have the power to evict any of you still at Longbourn when your father is called home, correct?”
“You have the right of it,” Elizabeth replied.
“And you do not desire that this man propose to you?” Charlotte verified. She could not believe that her friend would reject such an eligible offer.
“Charlotte, you are well aware Jane, Mary, and I will never marry without love and respect. Not only could I never love Mr Collins, but he is the last man in the world I would ever be able to respect. He is a dullard! Could you imagine me with a man who is not close to as intelligent as me? A man I could never see as my superior?”
“No, I suppose not,” Charlotte responded. ‘As long as he is not vicious, I would accept him so I would no longer be a burden on my family, and I would then have my own home,’ she told herself silently.
As much as he had resolved not to dance with her, Darcy found himself standing in front of the bewitching woman. Since he was leaving on the morrow, it would not hurt to experience a set of dances with her before he departed. After all, he would never see her again.
Elizabeth looked at Charlotte with surprise, but said nothing. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr Collins on his way towards her. She did not know what she liked less, Mr Darcy being here or Mr Collins on his way.
“Miss Elizabeth, would you honour me with one of your open sets?” Darcy requested.
Her first inclination was to refuse. What would Mr Wickham say if he saw her dancing with the hateful Mr Darcy after her stated opinions of the man?
However, she realised she could not deny his request. If she did so, she would have to sit out for the entire ball.
“My second set is open,” Elizabeth said stiffly as she held out her dance card for him.
She watched Mr Darcy write his name in the space for the second set with bold script.
“Cousin Elizabeth, it is unseemly for you to dance with men other than me,” a sweating Collins blustered when he arrived.
“Mr Collins, do you not know that if a lady refuses a request to dance, she must sit out the rest of the night?” Elizabeth hoped Mr Darcy would understand dancing with him was not what she desired.
“Hence, when Mr Darcy requested I dance a set with him, I could not say no, otherwise I would have to sit and not dance with you.” Thinking of that in hindsight, Elizabeth did not think that such a bad consequence.
Now she was stuck dancing the first two sets with decidedly undesirable partners.
Darcy listened intently. He decided she really did not want to dance with the corpulent, sweating, malodorous man which had prompted her speech.
He was sure she was honoured to be asked by him.
If she had refused him, as much as he did not believe she desired to, like she had at Lucas Lodge and this estate, he would not have demanded she sit out.
Collins was about to remonstrate with his cousin again when he heard the name. “Mr Darcy? Is this Mr Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire?”
It was at that time Darcy remembered where he had seen the pusillanimous bootlicker before. In Kent when he went to services in Hunsford. The man was the worst sycophant his aunt had ever brought into her sphere of influence. He had managed to not be introduced to the buffoon in Kent.
“That is he,” Elizabeth replied.
“Mr Darcy, how fortuitous it is that I see you here. I am Mr William Collins, your aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s parson. When I saw her and your cousin, the Rose of Kent, Miss Anne de Bourgh, less than a fortnight past they were in good health.”
If Elizabeth could have crawled under Charlotte’s gown, she would have done so. The idiotic parson had ignored precedence and introduced himself to Mr Darcy. As if that man needed more reason to think badly of her family.
“It is very generous for one as high as you to agree to dance with my lowly cousin. You show the same condescension as…” When Mr Darcy turned and walked away without a word, Mr Collins ceased his burbling.
He stood in place looking decidedly confused as to why his patroness’s nephew and Miss de Bourgh’s affianced had left his company.
Elizabeth looked at Charlotte sending an ‘now do you understand’ look. Her friend just shrugged her shoulders.
Just then the officers entered the ballroom. Elizabeth was watching intently, and she saw everyone, except for Mr Wickham. Had the insufferable Mr Darcy had Mr Bingley uninvite Mr Wickham? Hateful man!
Before the friends could speak, the Bingleys and Hursts entered the ballroom.
Miss Bingley nodded to the musicians and called the first set.
She watched with pleasure as she saw the hated Eliza line up opposite the fat parson, the one, according to some gossip going about the room, she was supposed to marry.
Miss Bingley was pleased the hoyden would marry such a man after daring to distract her Mr Darcy.
Her smile turned to a frown when the set began, and Mr Darcy had not asked her to dance.
There she stood, at her own ball, on the side like a wallflower!
Caroline Bingley told herself he would dance the supper and final sets with her.
Never in her life had she danced a set with a worse dancer than Mr Collins.
In the first five minutes, he had managed to step on Elizabeth’s toes twice and turned the wrong way three times.
By the end of the half hour, it seemed to Elizabeth like the longest two dances she had ever had to suffer through.
She almost ran to where Charlotte was in order to escape Mr Collins.
On her way to her friend, Lieutenant Denny passed her. “Our friend sends his regrets, but he decided to remain in Meryton tonight rather than have unpleasantness with anyone.” He cocked his head towards Mr Darcy.
When Mr Darcy came to collect her, she was, for the first time ever, grateful to see him because Mr Collins was lumbering towards her.
The dance could not begin soon enough. At the same time, she was annoyed that Mr Wickham had not come because of Mr Darcy, forgetting what Mr Wickham had claimed during their conversation.
Say what she could about Mr Darcy, he was a very good dancer, so Elizabeth’s toes were safe from him. She was happy with the silence between them until she realised he would prefer it that way. “This is a large ballroom, and the chalk outline of London’s skyline was very well done,” she said.
Mr Darcy remained silent.
“Come now, Mr Darcy, I commented on the size of the room and the chalked floor, it is your turn to say something. You may comment on the number of attendees or the décor,” Elizabeth prompted.
“Do you talk as a rule when you dance?” Darcy responded.
“We must have a little conversation. It would look very strange if we were to pass a half hour together in silence.”
“In that case, Miss Elizabeth, I will say whatever you desire me to say.”
“That will do for now,” Elizabeth responded. She had not expected the haughty, proud Mr Darcy to reply with humour.
He knew he had to be careful, but Darcy wondered if he could issue a warning about Wicky. “How often do you and your sisters walk into Meryton?” He asked.
“When we need to. When you saw us the other day we had just met a new acquaintance.” Despite her resolve to be civil, Elizabeth could not help herself. After all, regardless of what Lieutenant Denny had said, she was sure Mr Darcy was responsible for Mr Wickham’s absence.
The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of hauteur overspread Mr Darcy’s features, but he said not a word.
Elizabeth thought he said nothing because he could not defend himself.
“Mr Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends—whether he may be equally capable of retaining them, is less certain,” Darcy eventually said in a constrained manner so only she could hear.
“He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship,” replied Elizabeth with emphasis, “and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life.”
Before Darcy could respond they were interrupted by Sir William Lucas who was walking from one side of the room to the other. Seeing the couple dancing, rather than continue on his way, he stopped and bowed to them.
Sir William looked first at Jane dancing with his eldest son and at Mr Bingley dancing with Miss Bingley.
“I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear sir. Such very superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you belong to the first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does not disgrace you, and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated. Especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Eliza, shall take place. What congratulations will then flow! Let me not interrupt you any longer, sir. You will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of that young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me.”
The latter part of this address was scarcely heard by Darcy; but Sir William’s allusion to his friend seemed to strike him forcibly, and his eyes were directed with a very serious expression towards first Bingley and then Miss Bennet.
He would need to watch them very carefully for the rest of the night.
Elizabeth had no doubt Mr high-and-mighty Darcy disapproved of Jane as a wife for his friend. There was no more conversation for the remainder of the set.
At the end, they went their separate ways. She was hoping she would never see him again and he knew he needed to run from this place before his heart was forever lost to an inappropriate lady.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Mr Darcy had not made a request of Miss Bingley to dance with him when the supper set was called. At least, he had not danced a second set with Eliza Bennet.
Miss Bingley sat with the Hursts and some others for supper. “Louisa, Mr Darcy has not danced with me, and he danced with Eliza Bennet. What am I to do?” Miss Bingley whinged.
“Caro, that matters not.” Mrs Hurst cocked her head.
They were seated within earshot of Mrs Bennet who was loudly proclaiming how Jane had caught Mr Bingley.
In addition she was crowing that it was certain they would marry soon, and he would throw her other daughters in the path of rich men.
She sounded like she had had too much punch, so her voice was shriller than normal.
Mrs Hurst pointed to Mr Darcy who could also hear, and the sisters could see the look of disgust on his face.
“You had the right of it, Lulu. We will never return to this benighted place!” Miss Bingley crowed.
Elizabeth tried to temper her mother’s words and volume; she was ignored. She appealed to her father to do something. He refused as he was too amused at his wife’s behaviour.
Although her mother contrived that they were the last to depart, Elizabeth could not leave quickly enough.
Even without Mr Darcy, she was sure her mother had made sure Mr Bingley would never offer for Janey. The only saving grace was that she had managed to evade Mr Collins for the rest of the night.
Again, to Fanny’s chagrin, Mr Bennet insisted Mr Collins sit on the box.