16. Chapter Sixteen
Positioned near a large column and partially concealed by a potted leafy tree of unknown origin, Darcy observed Lady Kildair”s ballroom gradually fill with guests.
“What am I doing here, Ash? This night has only begun and I already crave its ending. I should be in Hertfordshire, trying to steal a kiss from Elizabeth. No horse is worth this.”
Viscount Ashton, standing next to him, chuckled.
“I shall not tell Arion you no longer hold him in esteem. He may forgive you in five or ten years.”
“He is a horse.”
“Of that, I am aware. I also know you have raised the ornery beast from the second he was born and it would gut you to give him up. This is but one night in your life. Five hours at the most if you dance the set before the supper set and the one immediately following. I think you can manage five measly hours.”
“Are we agreed that after the last required set, we shall quit the ball and without delay head for Hertfordshire?” Darcy slid a sideways glance at his cousin. “I have booked us a suite of rooms at The George for a month complete.”
Ash looked at him with surprise, then grinned.
“Sometimes, I like the way you think. Three weeks for the banns to be read, one week to plan the ceremony, and then we can whisk our respective brides off for a long wedding trip— What the deuce?”
At Ashton’s outburst, Darcy looked up to see what surprised his cousin, only to find his mouth nearly drop open. Framed within the ballroom entrance stood Elizabeth, dressed in a deep red gown that lovingly clung to her body in a way that made his knees go weak. Rubies and diamonds twinkled in her hair, around her wrist, and at her throat. Lady Elizabeth was letting the ton know the Hamilton family was entering society in a manner befitting their rank, and he loved her for it.
His feet had a mind of their own and began moving toward her before his ingrained sense of reason caught up. A Darcy did not run across the ballroom floor like a crazed lunatic. However, seeing Elizabeth’s delighted smile had him toss his pride aside and he did, indeed, increase his pace.
“Lady Elizabeth,” he said and gave her an exquisitely formal bow.
“Mr. Darcy.”
He thought she’d give him a polite nod of the head, instead, she dipped into a graceful curtsy, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of her décolletage. When his gaze lifted to her face, her one eyebrow twitched ever so slightly and he knew, without the aid of a reflecting glass, that the tips of his ears had reddened.
“You are everything lovely, my lady,” he said in a low voice. “I had not expected to see you until our return to Hertfordshire”
“My sister and I thought to surprise you.”
“You have succeeded spectacularly. I had just been complaining the evening was going to drag by and then you appeared like a goddess rising in one of my dreams.”
She blushed slightly and turned to Ashton, who stood bemused in front of his very own goddess dressed in blue.
“Good evening, Edmund,” Elizabeth said, her tone one of teasing.
Ashton pulled his attention away from Jane and greeted Elizabeth before saying, “Come, let us find a more conducive place to converse.”
The four of them proceeded to the far side of the ballroom and found a quiet alcove, soon joined by Lord and Lady Courtland. It took but a few minutes before Lady Courtland congratulated Darcy on mending his relationship with her niece.
“I will admit, Fitzwilliam, I was so disappointed in the way you met. I knew you would complement one another and your union has advantages for both of you. Her ease and liveliness with all manner of people will make you more approachable, while your education and knowledge of the world will expand her mind beyond the walls of her father’s bookroom. With you, she can become a powerful woman in her own right.”
“You and I both know that a man’s heart devises his way, but the Lord directs his path. I was too busy being proud and fussy to see what He had in mind for me.” Darcy looked over to see Elizabeth talking gaily with Ashton and marveled at the fact she had forgiven him for such boorish behavior. “I look forward to our future life together.”
“I am so happy for the both of you.”
Lady Courtland’s attention was caught by something over his shoulder and he half turned to see who or what it was. Cutting through the growing crowd strode a tall and broad-shouldered young man. He towered over nearly everyone, including Darcy, who was not small in stature. Given the gentleman’s vivid green eyes and familiar smile, Darcy correctly assumed he was Trenton Hamilton, the oft-talked-about Earl of Tiverton.
“You made it in time.”
Elizabeth held out her hand for her brother to take in his.
“I did, although it was a near thing, Bertie’s sister by marriage took forever to get ready. Thankfully, I had my carriage ready, so he and I came on our own,” the earl said before he bussed his aunt on the cheek and greeted everyone in their group, stopping when he came to Ashton and Darcy.
“Trenton, may I introduce to you the Viscount Ashton and Mr. Darcy?” Lady Jane asked politely.
“After the letters I have received from nearly every family member from Hertfordshire to Derbyshire, I must insist upon it,” the earl teased.
Jane presented her brother to the viscount, then she turned and did the same for Darcy.
“Even though we have never met, I feel like I know you both intimately,” Trenton said once the introductions were over. “Not only have Jane and Elizabeth written about the two of you, but my cousin Sophia has spoken of the extended Fitzwilliam family with great warmth for many years. I am very glad to finally put faces to the stories.”
“I hope the stories were pleasant.”
“Some were,” Trenton said before sliding a playful glance in the direction of his twin sister. “Some were not. At least, not at first.”
Darcy grimaced at the gentle reminder of his brutish behavior when he first met Elizabeth. How many years would their family feast on that story? Given their love of the satirical, he rightly assumed the tale of Fitzwilliam Darcy insulting Lady Elizabeth Hamilton would be told and re-told until he was old and gray and then a few more decades after. He paused and quietly realized he did not mind the teasing. Not when it was done in a loving manner, and not to make him ill at ease.
“My grand plan to make an indelible impression upon your sister worked to perfection.”
“Grand plan!” Elizabeth exclaimed and with a chuckle, she tapped his forearm with her fan. “No gentleman inserts his dancing shoes into his mouth in the hopes the lady remembers him fondly. You, sir, are a delicious cad and I shall remind you of this when we dance.”
Darcy pretended to look at her with great surprise.
“Dance? We are going to dance?”
Her eyes slightly narrowed and then her lips curled into a smile. His brain stopped functioning, other than calculating how long it would take to get a Special License and how quickly could he get her alone.
“Yes, Mr. Darcy,” her lilting tone pulled him from his frantic, internal planning. “I have high hopes for this evening.”
“As do I, Lady Elizabeth,” he said, in a sotto voice. “As do I.”
He was rewarded by her delightful blush and quick catch of her breath. She understood him completely and if the clearing of Lord Courtland’s throat were an indication, he understood as well. Darcy straightened his posture to its fullest height and lifted his chin only marginally before directing his gaze toward Elizabeth’s uncle. Lord Courtland pursed his lips and raised his brows in silent query as to his intentions.
“Uncle John,” he began. “Now that your nieces and nephew are in town, I would like to extend an invitation to dine at Darcy House. I know my sister Georgiana would like to meet Elizabeth and her family. She has pestered me relentlessly ever since she learned of our courtship.”
“I will respectfully defer to my lovely wife to pick a time and date.” Lord Courtland’s attention was caught by the arrival of the Duke of Devonshire. He lightly touched Trenton’s arm to alert him of this fact. “Devonshire has arrived and I know you wished to extend your condolences.”
“Why would the duke attend if he is still in mourning?” Elizabeth asked, her gaze one of sympathy as she watched the former Marquis of Hartington greet his host.
“His father always opened the ball with Lady Kildair. She is a distant cousin and the duke wishes to honor his father’s tradition. He will depart immediately after.”
“May Ash and I come with you?” Darcy asked. ”Even though I wrote him a letter upon his father’s passing, I would like to extend my condolences in person.”
“I have no problem with that,” the marquess said and the four gentlemen approached the duke and after extending their heartfelt thoughts of sympathy, chatted with young Devonshire while the room continued to fill with guests.
“Iforgot how young the Duke of Devonshire is,” Jane said as she and Elizabeth watched their beaux cross the room to chat with the somber gentleman.
“He is one and twenty. A few months older than Trenton and I.”
“Does Trenton know him?”
“They have common acquaintances, and the duke has a keen interest in horticulture which, as you know, is something Trenton enjoys. I would not be surprised if the two of them became patrons of the Royal Horticultural Society. It is well known in our family that you and Trenton have green thumbs,” Elizabeth teased Jane. “I am more likely to dig up a viable plant and leave the weeds.”
“Speaking of the different shades of flora and fauna, I see someone, who if she knew who you are courting, would be positively green with envy.”
“Oh my,” was all Elizabeth could say when she spied Miss Bingley making her entrance into the ballroom.
Dressed head-to-toe in burnt orange, with a matching turban that sported no less than four dyed ostrich feathers, Miss Bingley proudly gazed about the room as though she were the Queen and waited for her courtiers to bow upon her arrival. From her peripheral vision, Elizabeth noted Jane slowly shook her head.
“Her modiste must hate her.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Lizzy, no reasonable woman, who wishes to make a decent living, would want anyone from the beau monde to know she created such a monstrosity.”
“Maybe her modiste is a visionary and is happy to let women, who have no taste in fashion and too much money to spend, know she will make anything they desire… for a price.”
“True. What is someone’s nightmare might well be someone else’s dream.” Jane slightly turned to face Elizabeth. “She is coming our way. Shall we pretend we have not seen her?”
“Too late. Her signature scent precedes her and I calculate she will reach us in…”
“My dear Miss Hamilton and Miss Eliza. Who would have thought you would receive an invitation to such a prestigious event.”
“I cannot imagine why you should be so surprised. You were on the guest list,” Elizabeth quipped back.
Miss Bingley’s eyes narrowed at the implied insult. She then paused and assessed Elizabeth’s deep red velvet gown.
“It appears that you and your sister are quite industrious with a needle and thread, which given your unfortunate circumstances is a required talent. One would almost think your gown is a Madame Etienne”s original.”
About to give Miss Bingley a setdown, Elizabeth stayed her tongue as Trenton had come alongside. Miss Bingley straightened her posture, pushing her bosom up and if Elizabeth were a person who laid wagers, she”d place a penny on the idea Miss Bingley was doing everything in her power not to lift onto her toes in excitement.
“Lord Tiverton, I am flattered you sought my company. Had you not departed my brother’s residence so abruptly this evening, we could have entered the ballroom together,” Miss Bingley said, playfully tapping his arm with her fan and giving him a coquettish smile. Her gaze then shifted to Elizabeth, sparkling with false friendliness. “Oh, how absent-minded of me, Miss Eliza. I must apologize for assuming you were acquainted with the Earl of Tiverton.”
Miss Bingley then batted her lashes as if feigning surprise at this realization and did not see Trenton’s raised brow at her two egregious errors. The first not calling his sister Lady Elizabeth, the second of shortening her name to Eliza. A favor granted only to Charlotte Lucas and her family. Miss Bingley, busy scanning the room for anyone who might have witnessed her conversing with an earl, failed to notice the sly exchange of looks between the twins.
During this conversation, Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, along with a younger man Elizabeth correctly assumed was Mr. Gilbert Hurst, joined them.
“Tiverton, may I ask for introductions to these ladies?” Bertie asked.
“Of course.” Trenton smiled at Jane. “Mr. Gilbert Hurst, may I present to you—”
“Why in the world are you presenting Miss Hamilton to Bertie?” Blithely unaware of her pending social demise, Miss Bingley interrupted and spoke over Trenton. ”As a landed gentleman’s son, he takes precedence over an orphaned rector’s daughters.”
Amused that Miss Bingley had not allowed her brother to complete the introduction, Elizabeth gave Jane a soft nudge with her elbow and said, “Please continue, Lord Tiverton. ‘Tis plain Miss Bingley is anxious for us to learn where we belong in society.”
“I warned you back in Hertfordshire not to abandon your sphere,” Caroline remarked haughtily, raising her nose in a superior manner. “I am astonished that you have the unmitigated gall to show your faces at one of London’s most prestigious balls. Did you even receive an invitation, or did you slip in through a side entrance with the added staff for the evening?”
At this unprovoked, venomous attack, Trenton straightened to his full height and glared down at Miss Bingley, who only raised her chin higher in defense. Without removing his hardened gaze from the doomed tradesman’s daughter, he said, “Bertie, may I finish making the introductions?”
“Please do, I have been waiting for this for almost a full week.”
A small crowd gathered behind Miss Bingley. Among them were Mr. Darcy, Viscount Ashton, Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, and Mr. Bingley.
“Mr. Gilbert Hurst, I present to you my sisters, Lady Jane Hamilton and Lady Elizabeth Hamilton.”
Miss Bingley gasped, then her mouth snapped shut and she sneered.
“I do not know how you embroiled the earl in this parody of manners, but it was badly done.”
“Lord Courtland,” someone called from the crowd, sounding very much like Mr. Hurst. “Would you please enlighten this harridan as to whom she is addressing?”
Miss Bingley emitted a tiny gasp, perhaps noticing for the first time that behind the Hamilton siblings stood Lord and Lady Courtland, and their children, Lady Sophia Kendrick and her brother, Lord Harold Kendrick, the Earl of Shelton.
The marquess glared at Miss Bingley, who raised a tremoring hand to lightly touch the edge of her gown’s bodice. It was at this exact moment Elizabeth felt a touch of pity for the woman who had dug a very deep hole that would take many years to crawl out of. However, there was nothing she could do about it. No one forced her to be rude and spiteful to those she perceived as below her station.
“Miss Bingley, before you are my nieces Lady Jane Hamilton and Lady Elizabeth Hamilton. With them is their brother and our nephew, the Earl of Tiverton, Lord Trenton Hamilton.” Miss Bingley paled and appeared ready to flee, however, Lord Courtland was not finished. “Henceforth, Miss Bingley, you will desist in calling my niece, Miss Eliza. It was rude when you thought of her simply as Miss Elizabeth Hamilton, it is abhorrent now that you know her true rank. Am I understood in this matter?”
“Yes, sir.” A long stretch of silence passed before Miss Bingley spoke again. “My apologies, Miss… Lady Elizabeth.”
From within the crowd, they heard Mr. Bingley exclaim, “Jane Hamilton is an earl’s daughter? Why was I not told?”
Upon that, Mr. Hurst guffawed out loud and grabbed his wife’s arm.
“Come along, Mrs. Hurst. It is time we take our leave. As I do not believe you and your sister will be home to visitors for some time, we shall return to the family seat in Dorset.”
There were murmurings and low rumbles of laughter as the Bingleys and Hursts made a hasty exit. Elizabeth felt a feather-like touch on her elbow and turned to find Mr. Darcy standing next to her.
“Are you well, Elizabeth?”
His deep blue eyes held concern and warm affection.
“I am, thank you for asking.”
“Need I chase after the bright persimmon and bring back a feather from her turban as tribute?”
Elizabeth laughed and shook her head.
“No, but thank you for wishing to slay my dragons.”
“I would do more than that if needed. You must know how ardently I admire and love you.”
As she gazed at him, her heart fluttered and danced within her chest. His very presence stirred up a whirlwind of emotions, making her head spin and her knees weak. Such was the power he held over her, igniting a fire in her heart with only a few sweet words.
She then noticed the musicians were taking their seats to signal the beginning of the ball. Impulsively, she grabbed Darcy’s hand and led him from the ballroom, then down a short hall into a small parlor set aside for those who wished a quiet moment during the ball.
“Where are we going?” he asked. “The dancing is about to begin.”
“I have an important question to ask and require privacy.”
“Well then, I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,” he warmly replied and allowed her to meekly usher him into the room.
Almost as soon as they crossed the threshold, Elizabeth turned to face him.
“Mr. Darcy, may I be so bold as to request the opening set of Lady Kildair’s ball?”
His resulting look was one of surprise, followed by a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. Elizabeth could tell her gambit was not lost on him in that she quoted his words almost verbatim the day he asked for her first set at Mr. Bingley’s ball.
“Yes.”
She paused for only a brief moment before continuing.
“May I further my boldness by asking for your company during the supper set?”
“You may,” he said slowly, his eyes darkening with what she now knew as desire.
“And, may I press my good luck to request your hand for the final set?”
Now her eyes widened. Not only because Mr. Darcy nodded and murmured his assent, but because he slid their palms together, curling his fingers around hers.
“You are aware what these particular three sets at one ball signifies?” he asked, kissing the back of her hand while slipping his free arm around her waist, drawing her close to his body. “Tongues will loosen and gossip will flow, possibly all the way to Meryton.”
“I am very aware and if you are amendable, I would humbly ask you to entertain the idea of meeting me at Longbourn’s parish in four weeks.”
“Are you proposing to me, Lady Elizabeth Rose Hamilton Bennet?”
“I am.”
“I accept.”
With that he wrapped both arms around her slender frame, lifting her off the ground for a proper kiss.
“Nothing has been anywhere near normal in our courtship,” he whispered and she felt a light kiss on her forehead after he lowered her back onto her feet.
She rested her cheek against his broad chest, listening to his heart return to its normal rhythm.
“No, it has not and I would not change one jot or tittle. It is uniquely ours.”