Chapter 3 #2
“Darcy?” the colonel called to him.
“Yes?”
“Are you well?”
“Very well, thank you. I could use a drink.”
“Excuse me,” Bingley said, “I promised I would open the ball with Elizabeth. Since her betrothed cannot dance, as her brother I am the best choice, it seems.”
“I would be happy to stand with Miss Bennet for the first set and for any other,” the colonel declared. “I intended to ask her, but I did not dare, considering the circumstances. I hope I will have a chance, though. Would you ask her for me?”
“Yes, I shall ask her,” Bingley said.
Darcy threw his cousin a reproachful glance. “Richard, some things are not to be trifled with.”
“Trifle? I am truly willing to dance with Miss Bennet,” the colonel admitted. “And just between ourselves, I confess this marriage arrangement intrigues me. I am not sure what is happening, but it does sound strange.”
“It is not our concern.”
“But we can be curious, can we not? Could Miss Bennet be a gold digger?”
Darcy resisted replying.
“Could she?” the colonel repeated.
“I cannot claim I know Miss Bennet well enough to judge her accurately. I attempted several times, and I failed lamentably. But even if she were, I doubt Lady Kendal and Lord Alveston would let themselves be so easily deceived.”
He looked at Elizabeth again, and the colonel followed his gaze.
“True… Well, this is a mystery we shall maybe solve one day. For now, I shall go and dance.”
“Very well, Richard. Do not let me delay you.”
“Will you dance, Cousin?”
Darcy threw him another glare, and the colonel waved his hand and shrugged, defeated.
“No, I did not expect you would. Well, I shall see you later,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said, leaving Darcy alone with a glass in his hand and his eyes chasing the object of his interest around the ballroom.
∞∞∞
Three hours later, Darcy was still standing by the same window near the hall that separated the ballroom from the gentlemen’s chambers, where drinks and card games were being enjoyed.
He watched Elizabeth dancing every set. From a chair, Lord Alveston admired her too and was rewarded with her smiles.
From their chairs, Georgiana and Anne looked at the dancers, whispering to each other.
They both appeared to be enjoying their time, although neither accepted any invitations to dance.
Supper was served, and Darcy sat with the Matlocks, Georgiana, and Anne, and far from the head of the table where the host and Elizabeth were seated.
The unexpected engagement enflamed the gossip, and speculation flew around the room. Lady Catherine and several of her acquaintances spent the entire evening chatting, and the subject of their conversation could be easily guessed.
Darcy heard much but gave little attention to any. He was more concerned with studying Elizabeth’s small gestures that might betray the reasons for her commitment.
He could not dismiss the notion that she had genuine affection for Lord Alveston.
He seemed charmed by her, and she appeared to return his adoration gracefully.
Surely if she did not respect and value his character, she would not have agreed to bond herself to him.
Or at least that is what Darcy believed.
But of course, he could he wrong—he had been utterly wrong in judging her feelings before, thus he could easily doubt any of his own estimations.
It was past midnight, supper had ended and the musicians were ready to resume playing.
Darcy took another glass—perhaps one too many—and returned to his place near the window, wondering how long he must wait until Georgiana and Anne were ready to leave.
He was in no disposition for any entertainment, not even conversation with other gentlemen.
His head was still aching, and he still felt trapped by events outside his control.
Staying any longer slowly became insupportable.
His eyes searched for Elizabeth, but she was nowhere to be seen. A moment later he almost dropped his glass when her voice startled him.
“Mr Darcy…”
He turned slowly, as if facing the greatest danger, and met her eyes, still unable to recognise the shadows that blurred their sparkles.
“Miss Bennet… I was just going to talk to my uncle…” He sounded ridiculous and impolite and felt ashamed by his cowardice. The numerous drinks he had imbibed had made him even less steady in his thoughts and on his feet.
“Please, sir… Only a moment…”
“Very well… How may I help you, Miss Bennet?”
“By allowing me to apologise…and thank you…”
“What on earth for?” He felt suffocated, too warm, too dizzy.
“For what I said last April. And for what you have done since then, to the benefit of my sister,” Elizabeth said with gratitude. “You cannot pretend to be a stranger to Mr Bingley’s decision to return and propose to Jane.”
“Please do not mention it. Thanking me would be highly undeserved since I was the one who caused their separation in the first place.”
“Still, I am very grateful. And there is more I would like to speak to you about. I have long wanted to, but unfortunately I have not had the chance.”
“I have purposely avoided meeting you, Miss Bennet,” he whispered bluntly, suddenly relieved of the weight on his chest. He had said it.
She paled, staring at him in disbelief.
“I understand that you hate me… You have every reason for that,” she finally murmured in a trembling voice, trying to hold his gaze and fight back her tears.
“But I had hoped that considering our connection, we might forget the past and perhaps become friends one day. We are almost family, if I may dare say so.”
Darcy breathed deeply and blinked a few times, as the light increased his headache. If he was going to confess his deepest struggles, perhaps the night of her engagement was a good time to be done with it.
“I do not hate you, Miss Bennet. Quite the opposite. That is why I cannot stand to see you, even less to speak to you or to witness you starting a new life. It is too much and too difficult for me. I have borne enough pain, and I shall not foolishly expose myself to more. That is why we can never be friends. I am happy that Bingley has found his happiness with your sister, and I wish you all the best in the world with your marriage. Goodbye, Miss Bennet.”
He bowed, squeezing his burning eyes tightly shut, and hurried into the card room, losing himself amongst the other gentlemen, without even turning to see Elizabeth standing stock still and pale, leaning against the wall.