Chapter One #4
When the dance ended, Elizabeth was out of breath from laughter and glee as she took Mr. Dixon’s arm, and they followed the other guests into the dining room.
Miss Fairfax was nearby in the throng of revelers, and even her golden feathered mask did not conceal her distress as Miss Campbell, wine glass in hand, broke free from her friend’s arm to change ahead.
She moved faster than Miss Fairfax, and Elizabeth realized too late that the haughty creature was determined to collide with her.
Miss Campbell’s shoulder bumped roughly into Elizabeth’s arm, and her red wine spilled down the front of Elizabeth’s dress. She yelped, and Mr. Dixon gaped at the young lady with open-mouthed horror. “Diana!”
“Oh, there you are, Patrick. I was searching desperately for you, but Miss Bennet is so very tall, I could not see where I was going.”
Lady Gresham and her daughter hurried over; the latter cried out in disgust. “I saw you – you did it on purpose! How cruel! And she is not so very tall – you are rather short and stout.”
“Selina, go and send for a maid to attend to Miss Bennet,” her mother admonished. “Come this way, Miss Bennet.” Lady Gresham wrapped an arm around Elizabeth and led her into a little alcove, away from the throng of staring people.
Miss Fairfax caught up to Miss Campbell and spoke to her with what seemed to be displeasure before Lady Gresham beckoned to her niece.
“Jane, come here, my darling. You and Miss Bennet are the same size, I think. Have you anything she can borrow? You favor blue, you must have something that will match her mask.”
“Yes, of course,” Miss Fairfax said at once. “Oh dear, how awful.”
“Upstairs with the both of you, at once. I intend to speak to Mrs. Campbell about her daughter’s behavior – I have no wish to make you uncomfortable, but I believe that was no accident, and I have no patience for such malice.”
“Oh! I….” Miss Fairfax began to fidget with agitation, and Elizabeth laughed nervously.
“You need not make any trouble on my account, Lady Gresham. It occurs to me that Miss Fairfax mentioned her friend would reside in Ireland after her marriage, though I was not told explicitly that Mr. Dixon is her intended – if I caused her any vexation, I daresay this makes us even. I only hope the frock can be salvaged; I had thought to wear it more than once.”
“If necessary, I will happily replace it,” Lady Gresham said, her jaw set tensely as she stared daggers at the unrepentant Miss Campbell. She escorted Elizabeth and Miss Fairfax from the ballroom, and the two friends made a hasty retreat upstairs.
They went to Miss Fairfax’s room, and Elizabeth was reminded of Lady Gresham’s hint that her niece’s chamber shared a private parlor with Elizabeth’s room. What a pity that she should desire a closer acquaintance with Miss Fairfax, and yet find herself the enemy of that lady’s dearest friend!
Miss Fairfax was gracious and apologetic about the incident, so much so that Elizabeth resolved to laugh it off, if only to put her new friend at ease. “I am sure I ought to have deduced that Miss Campbell and Mr. Dixon are engaged – I was far too caught up in my own frivolity.”
“He should not have flirted with you,” Miss Fairfax said, shaking her head as she retrieved an elegant gown in a paler shade of blue.
“True,” Elizabeth said, nodding thoughtfully as she stripped off her ruined garment, all sense of modesty a secondary concern at present.
Her mask was tugged askew as Miss Fairfax helped her into the clean frock, and Elizabeth swiftly adjusted it back into place.
“Why did he not ask her for the supper set? Is there anything amiss between them?”
“I believe he asked her for the first and last,” Miss Fairfax said, she bit her lip before hesitantly adding, “Diana has never thought herself handsome, though I have often assured her that Mr. Dixon must believe she is, for he has no need of her money.”
From what Elizabeth could see of Miss Fairfax’s face, it seemed likely that she was by far the prettier of the pair. “Had she never envied you?”
Miss Fairfax feigned distraction with fastened the buttons at the back of Elizabeth’s gown, but in the mirror before her, Elizabeth walked the reflection of Miss Fairfax tensing for a moment, giving an inaudible sigh.
“She knows I would never put myself forward – that is, I do not mean to suggest that you did anything wrong – you did not know….”
“I certainly know now,” Elizabeth said, giving another laugh intended to put Miss Fairfax at ease. “I would not risk another of my gowns for all the world! I shall not speak another word to him for the next three weeks; we shall be a large enough party that I am sure I can manage such a feat.”
“Do not trouble yourself, Miss Bennet – I will attempt to reason with her.”
Elizabeth was not convinced that Miss Fairfax had the confidence to do so, but she simply nodded her agreement. “I suppose now that I have undressed before you, you may call me Elizabeth – or Lizzy, if you like.”
Miss Fairfax smiled. “I would like that. And you may call me, Jane, of course – though perhaps not in the presence of Miss Campbell, until there is some truce between you.”
When Elizabeth’s appearance was once again fit for the ballroom, the two friends went through the connecting parlor to Elizabeth’s room, where Sally was waiting with some confusion.
“Oh, there you are, Miss!” She tutted and fretted over the ruined gown, and promised without being very convincing that she would do her best to clean the wine stain.
When the two young ladies retired to the ballroom, Lady Gresham invited them to sit beside her, though they had not much time remaining for the meal.
Even so, Elizabeth was determined to enjoy her first private ball, for she was not to be without a partner for the remainder of the evening.
Jane began to relax, though she remained reticent, but Lady Gresham was so amiable a companion that the conversation was cheerful enough to put the incident from Elizabeth’s mind entirely.
Elizabeth danced again with Frank Churchill, who regaled her with antics of his miscreant youth, and then Elizabeth had the pleasure of standing up with a few local gentlemen who were not amongst the house party, but expressed every hope of meeting with her often.
She was dancing with Mr. Gresham, who gave her the distinct impression his mother had instructed him to be obliging, and their pair were doing their best to ignore Mr. Dixon dancing beside them with Jane, when the stroke of midnight was called.
The dancers all paused to remove their masks and reveal themselves. Elizabeth was keen to look upon the faces of her companions, but the expressions of everyone around her were not what she expected as she unfastened her own mask.
Mr. Gresham looked at Elizabeth with astonishment, then glanced over at Jane, and finally searched the crowd, muttering about his step-mother’s strange scheming.
Though Elizabeth had devoted herself to avoiding Mr. Dixon, his reaction was impossible to ignore, for he cried out, “Good God! I knew it!”
Indeed, everyone around Elizabeth seemed to be shocked and fascinated, and she brought her hands up to her face, fearing there was some blemish on her visage.
When she finally turned her gaze to Jane, a strange chill went down Elizabth’s spine.
It was like looking in the mirror and seeing her own face reflected back to her.
Jane stumbled backward, her brow furrowing with dismay, and Mr. Churchill stepped forward to brace her as murmurs of speculation rippled through the crowd around them. And then, Jane turned and fled.
The rest of the evening was a strange blur to Elizabeth.
She answered a great many impertinent inquiries with the same uneasy placation – she knew little of her parents’ relations, but it was possible there was a connection to the Fairfax family – they may perhaps be distant cousins with a family resemblance.
Surely having different shades of hair would prevent any confusion, and they were not so similar.
But as the night finally came to a close, Elizabeth could not placate herself, and the thousand questions that swirled in her mind, for one thing was quite certain: but for their hair, she and Jane Fairfax were identical.
It was not until she was alone in her room that Elizabeth felt she could breathe properly and make sense of herself.
She leaned back against the door after she closed it, giving a heavy sigh as she was met at last with peace and quiet.
She began tugging out her hair pins until her dark curls fell loose over her shoulders, and she stared numbly into the stillness of her chamber, lit only by a fire in the hearth across from the bed.
Her gaze drifted to the bed, and for a brief moment Elizabeth felt too exhausted to do anything but hurl herself upon it.
She kicked off her dancing slippers and took a step forward, certain of finding the comfort she needed, but then she halted and shook her head; what she desperately needed was answers.
She turned to the door that led to the shared parlor, her weariness giving way to a conviction that she could not possibly rest at such a moment, not until she had spoken again to Jane.
She hesitated for a moment, stung by the recollection of her new friend fleeing from the ballroom – from her.
Elizabeth’s thoughts reeled again, and she knew it was this dizzying confusion – and the whispers of so many strangers – that Jane had run away from.
It was fortunate that Lady Gresham had provided them the private parlor; Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath as it occurred to her that perhaps this was by design.
Left to her own devices, she would surely run mad, and so Elizabeth padded in her stockinged feet across the parlor, and knocked on the door that connected to Jane’s room.
Miss Dixon opened it, drawing her dressing gown about herself and looking exceedingly offended. “Miss Bennet, it is quite late.”
“I apologize. Is Miss Fairfax well?”
“I daresay she is well enough, and probably asleep, as I should like to be,” Miss Dixon sniffed.
For a moment Elizabeth actually considered the possibility that she had run mad. “I had thought this room to be hers – indeed, it must be, for I was in there just a few hours ago – I borrowed her dress.”
Miss Dixon looked at her as if she were a pesky child.
“I am sure you can return it in the morning, or some other time. She is in the next room over if you insist on pestering her about it – we swapped, for she and Miss Campbell are both in some state of distress, and Diana was most insistent about it. I have no patience for that sort of emotional outburst.”
“Forgive me for disturbing you.” Elizabeth turned on her heel as Miss Dixon began to close the door, not waiting for it to be shut in her face.
She hastened through the little parlor and locked the connecting door behind her before giving into her first impulse.
She threw herself down on the bed and wept with bewildered misery.