Chapter Eight
London
The Mortons’ ballroom was larger than Longbourn and opulently decorated.
Though there was no snow on the ground outside at present, the palatial ballroom was decorated as a winter wonderland.
Fake snow was scattered about the marble floors, everywhere except in the area designated for dancing.
Small trees with snow dusting their leaves were placed at intervals along the wall, which were draped in shimmering silver silk, and from the barren branches hung small candles suspended in blue glass and crystal lanterns.
A fire burned in the massive hearth at the back of the room, still trimmed with festive boughs of greenery.
The entire room seemed to twinkle and glow.
Their environs were truly magical, and the Bennet sisters knew themselves to be in remarkably fine looks as well.
Elizabeth wore a gown cut from thin, shimmering velvet in her favorite shade of periwinkle, lightly trimmed with dark blue lace and organza.
A satin ribbon of the same shade ran through her thick, chestnut hair.
Though the neckline was rather daring, Elizabeth had refused the offered loan of Mrs. Jennings’s sapphire pendant and elected to wear a simple but lustrous strand of pearls her uncle had given her the year she came out.
Jane, pale and fair, wore pink silk with a shimmering gold overlay; in the cool, ethereal tones of the ballroom, she seemed to glow with warmth.
Her hair was elaborately arranged with pink topaz pins Mrs. Gardiner had lent her.
She looked incredibly stunning, but their Aunt Madeline and Mrs. Jennings were both afraid for her ankle.
“I am sure I saw you limp a little as we came downstairs,” Mrs. Gardiner sighed as the ladies moved past the receiving line.
“I rested all day, and I have shown you that I can move the ankle completely without flinching,” Jane said.
“If you are in any pain tonight, you must promise to tell me, and I shall take you home at once. Madeline can stay with Lizzy, or if your beaux are not pleasing you, we can all depart!” Mrs. Jennings offered Jane a solicitous smile, then turned to scan the room for their acquaintance.
Colonel Brandon approached them at once, for he had claimed Elizabeth’s first set and Jane’s second. He bowed and then took in the sight of all the ladies, clearly impressed. “I am sure you must be wishing your cousins, the Miss Dashwoods, could behold such a sight as this.”
Elizabeth looked around the ballroom in wonder. “It is splendid, is it not? I believe those are real trees!”
Her aunt gave her a playful nudge. “I believe the colonel is paying you girls a compliment.”
“To all of you ladies,” he said, giving her a gracious nod. Mrs. Gardiner did indeed look as lovely as her nieces. Her silk gown was neither lavender nor grey, but some shade in between, and though the color signified mourning, it suited her well.
“Do you mean to dance this evening, Mrs. Gardiner?”
“Oh! I am an old widow, I have no thoughts of dancing, especially when my nieces’ dance cards are not yet full.”
The colonel shook his head with bemusement.
“If you are too old to dance, I fear there is little hope for me.” Even so, he cajoled her into promising him a set, as even those in the dotage of their thirties required exercise.
And then, he led Elizabeth to join the dancing, as Edward Ferrars came to claim Jane.
Elizabeth pitied her sister for having such a partner. She hoped that Jane would spend the dance telling the man who had caused their cousin such anguish that Elinor was having a fabulous time in Meryton, and all the officers of the regiment were madly in love with her.
“I hope my dancing does not displease you, Miss Elizabeth,” the colonel said to her after they passed the first few minutes together in silence.
She tore her gaze from Jane and looked up at Colonel Brandon. “No, indeed! Forgive me, I was wool-gathering. I am afraid I do not think much of Jane’s present partner.”
It was evident that Colonel Brandon did not know what to make of such candor. “I see. I believe he is connected to you through your relations?”
“After a fashion. His sister is married to the half-brother of my cousins, Elinor and Marianne, and they thought well of him when they met. But I cannot like the way he seeks to placate his mother and sister’s high-minded hauteur.”
“You think him a snob?”
“No, but last evening’s supper was enough to demonstrate that he is governed by his family’s snobbery. I cannot like it.”
“An all-too common condition in London society,” the colonel said thoughtfully.
“I suppose you are right. I daresay Jane and I would not have been welcome here, nor at Mrs. Ferrars’s home last evening, if Mrs. Jennings had not made it common knowledge that we have come into an inheritance.”
“Perhaps that may be, but it is happier than the alternative – being excluded. I was nothing when I was a second son, entirely at the whim of just such a family as that of the gentleman you mistrust.”
Elizabeth pressed her lips together in a tight smile, for she had no intention of telling him the real reason she disliked Mr. Ferrars.
They lapsed into silence, and she scanned the ballroom once more.
She and Jane cherished a secret hope that Mr. W might be at the ball; it was not likely, she knew, on an evening when there were many parties in London, but Jane deserved such a stroke of luck.
Elizabeth managed to be a more attentive partner, though the colonel was not a gregarious man, nor one whom she could coax into any teasing or wickedness. She was relieved that he would at least make Jane a superior partner after Edward Ferrars, and she relinquished him to her sister with a smile.
Mrs. Jennings fluttered over to Elizabeth, hoping to escort her to her next partner, Mr. Darcy; he and his charming sister were accompanied by their cousin, Viscount Bellamy, whom Mrs. Jennings was sure would be a delightful and advantageous connection.
“He is a widower with three daughters, and he was a parson until his elder brother died suddenly, and he has only lately come to London – I hear he is quite popular! Well, I do not think him as handsome as Mr. Darcy, who was particularly attentive to you last night, Lizzy!”
Elizabeth winced, hoping her friend had not been overheard as they joined Mr. Darcy and his relations.
Fortunately, they were received with enthusiasm.
Miss Darcy greeted Elizabeth in a flutter of excitement, giving a dramatic spin as she showed off her gown, and then demanding her brother join her in praise of Elizabeth’s appearance.
Mr. Darcy was as civil as he had been the previous evening, and warm in his compliments for Elizabeth. He performed the introduction to his cousin, Viscount Bellamy, who was affable enough despite appearing quite overcome by Mrs. Jennings’s loquacity.
When he could manage a word in response, he addressed Elizabeth with a twinkle of mischief in his eye. “I have heard much praise of you from my cousins, Miss Elizabeth, and I commend your amiable friend for bringing you to London. But I must ask a favor of you, if you will oblige me.”
Elizabeth began to present her dance card to him, and Mr. Darcy frowned at his cousin. “Phillip….”
The viscount smiled and added his name to the final set of the evening on Elizabeth’s dance card, but he gave a rueful chuckle.
“You will think me fickle and forward, but I must ask you, Miss Elizabeth – who is the strikingly beautiful blond with whom I saw you speaking before the music began? The young lady just over there, in gold and pink. She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld, and I must beg an introduction.”
“Why, that is Jane,” Mrs. Jennings cried.
Miss Darcy gave her cousin a playful shove. “Phillip, Miss Elizabeth will believe that you must think nothing at all of her!”
“I have been more offended than this in a ballroom,” Elizabeth said to the girl before giving Mr. Darcy a quick wink.
“Lord Bellamy, that is my elder sister, Miss Jane Bennet. I am sure I shall have an opportunity to introduce you, for Jane has promised to sit out every third set; she has lately sprained her ankle.”
“Has she? That is quite shocking, and I am very sorry for her! But I would never have known it; she moves so gracefully.”
“It was quite an ordeal, let me tell you!” Mrs. Jennings cried.
“Poor Jane was distressed after visiting some very rude ladies who had once resided near her home in Hertfordshire, and as she was walking back to my home in Berkeley Square, she was distracted by their cutting remarks, and would have stepped in front of a carriage if her mysterious hero had not whisked her out of the path of danger! She turned her ankle in the confusion of it, but I hear he was most attentive to her! He has even sent flowers and volumes of poetry. But she is a great beauty, is she not? I daresay the elusive Mr. W shall not be the only man falling at her feet this winter!”
Miss Darcy looked ready to swoon at this tale. “How utterly romantic! I am sure I would be instantly in love with any man who rescued me in such a fashion, and behaved so gallantly afterward!”
Elizabeth had been silent and rather mortified as Mrs. Jennings prattled on at the viscount, but now she exchanged a look of mirth with Mr. Darcy, who had predicted his sister’s reaction to the tale of Jane’s sprained ankle.
The viscount had an entirely different response. “What ladies would treat her in such an infamous manner? Oh! But – were the Bingleys not lately in Hertfordshire?”
Mr. Darcy clapped his cousin on the shoulder. “I shall leave you to ponder that, Phillip; I have threatened to stand up with Miss Elizabeth for the next dance.”