Chapter 15 #2
She danced the next with an officer and then returned to Charlotte and was in conversation with her when Mr Darcy addressed her.
She had seen him during her set with Mr Collins, an expression of sympathy fixed upon his face as their eyes briefly met while Mr Collins held up the line.
He bowed and said that he hoped he might be honoured with both ladies’ hands for a set.
They informed him of which sets were already taken, and he engaged with Charlotte for the fourth and with Elizabeth, to her great surprise, for the supper dance, but only after humbly enquiring if that would be acceptable to her.
Certainly it was; to spend half an hour in the dance and an hour at the meal in his company answered all her wishes, and she only hoped she did not sound too eager when she told him that she would be delighted.
He left them then, being obliged to his hostess for the set that was forming, and Charlotte turned a significant look upon Elizabeth.
“The supper set! Well, Eliza, I hope you intend to make the most of it.”
Elizabeth confided then the information she had from her cousin.
Charlotte agreed that it might not be accurate and urged her friend to find out the truth.
Mr Collins then spotted her and begged to be introduced to ‘dear Cousin Elizabeth’s friend’, an office which Elizabeth performed with Charlotte’s consent.
He held them there through the set with praise of the ball, which they were to understand was quite fine enough to earn the approbation of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, though of course if that lady chose to hold a ball it would be superior even to this.
As he was perfectly capable of conducting a conversation with no participation from anyone else, Elizabeth observed the dance, and one couple in particular.
Both Miss Bingley and Mr Darcy were accomplished in the art, moving through the forms with real elegance.
They spoke but little, though cordially, from all appearances.
At last, the set ended and Elizabeth purchased her release from Mr Collins’s company by accepting Charlotte’s brother’s invitation to dance.
“Your mother,” he informed her in a low voice as he escorted her to the floor, “has been crowing to mine that you will soon be married to your cousin and thus she will never be required to leave Longbourn.”
Elizabeth shook her head and said, “I am not surprised, though I wish she would not. She will look foolish when it does not come to pass, and blame me for it.”
Samuel Lucas grinned. “Your friends will understand that she spoke prematurely. It is not the first time.”
“No, it is not.” A rather eligible cousin had visited the Gouldings three summers ago, and Mrs Bennet had spoken of him as Jane’s future husband on the basis of two dinners and a picnic during which he had singled Jane out.
After a stay of a fortnight, he had departed and not been heard from again, though he had been expected to spend two months at Haye-Park.
She did not think that it had ever occurred to her mother to connect her indiscreet speech to Mr Tillerson’s abrupt departure.
She managed to avoid Mr Collins until just before the supper set, when he came bustling up to her with a look of satisfaction. “I trust, my dear cousin, that you have left the supper set open for me?”
She was astounded by his audacity. How he could think her so eager for his attentions, she could not fathom.
“I have not,” she replied repressively. “It was requested of me, and I accepted. If you are in search of a partner for the dance and the meal, it is likely that my sister Mary has not yet been asked.” Mary had, as usual, sat herself among the matrons and widows where it was unlikely any gentleman in search of a partner would notice her.
“But surely you understood that I would wish for your company,” he whinged.
“I do not see how I should understand that if you did not say so. I am not in the habit of holding sets open in hopes that some other gentleman will request them; I should not wish to miscalculate and find myself sitting out a dance I might have joined.”
Mr Darcy came to collect her then, and the clergyman saw an opportunity. “Ah, Mr Darcy! You do my cousin great honour by choosing her for such an important set but, you see, I very much anticipated having her company for myself during the meal. Might you relinquish your claim in my favour, sir?”
“Indeed I shall not,” Mr Darcy replied, to the man’s gape-mouthed astonishment. “I have very much been anticipating Miss Elizabeth’s lively, stimulating conversation over the meal. I am not so fortunate as to reside in the same house, and must seize my opportunities when they arise.”
“Thank you,” she murmured as they moved to join the line, leaving the clergyman befuddled behind them.
“On no account would I leave any lady to his sole company if it might be avoided,” he replied, “and you least of all. How much longer does he stay?”
“He is to depart on Saturday.” She smiled as he took his place across from her.
Her cheeks felt a bit warm, and though it was tempting to credit her blushes to the gazes of her neighbours, she knew they arose from his defence of his claim upon her set and the compliments he uttered in the course of it.
She felt herself more than capable of managing Mr Collins, and yet it had been rather thrilling to have Mr Darcy place himself in the clergyman’s path as an immovable obstacle.
He made a thoughtful little noise and glanced at Mr Collins before returning her smile. “You will survive three days more.”
“My temper may not.”
Just before the music began, Elizabeth saw that her cousin had taken her advice and joined the line with Mary, fortunately far enough away that any missteps on his part should not require feats of agility from them.
She saw also that Jane and Mr Bingley had taken to the floor together again, a statement of his regard that could not be mistaken.
The dance began and she praised the skill of the musicians.
He agreed, and they spoke for a little while of the arrangements for the ball and how fortunate it was that the rain had broken just in time.
Thus they passed the first dance. He escorted her to the refreshments table for a glass of punch during the pause before the second dance.
His attention was briefly arrested by something across the room, and then he bent to murmur, “My friend has just led your sister out onto the balcony. I think we both know what must now follow.”
“Oh! How wonderful. She will be very happy.”
He was smiling as he replied, “As will he. They are well suited.”
They spoke of commonplace nothings until they spied the couple slipping back into the ballroom with wide smiles. Mr Bingley seemed ready to burst with pride, and Jane had never looked happier or more beautiful.
When the second dance commenced, Elizabeth was content to begin in silence, which seemed to suit Mr Darcy also until Mr Collins, farther down the line with Mary, careened into Miss Long, who stumbled away with a cry and almost fell.
“I noted earlier that Mr Collins is not a fine dancer. He seems more eager than skilled,” Mr Darcy then said drily.
“Eagerness does seem to be a central trait of his character. He has mentioned several times his particular eagerness to perform the rites of marriage between you and Miss de Bourgh,” she commented in what she hoped was an offhand manner.
He shook his head, eyes roaming skyward as if in supplication for a greater share of patience. “A favourite wish of my aunt’s, and one in which she is destined to be disappointed.”
Relief made her laugh. “Mr Collins presented it to me as a certainty.”
“As he presented to me the certainty that you would soon reside in Kent as his wife, and with no more basis in fact, I think.”
“That is entirely impossible,” she agreed. “My every feeling forbids it.”
“I have been contemplating the benefits of marriage of late,” he admitted, boldly meeting her eyes. “But not to my cousin.”
Her heart leapt. Could he possibly mean what she thought he might? “I might say the same. When I was staying at Netherfield, I told Miss Bingley that I was contemplating a long visit with my uncle in London after Christmas, for the purpose of expanding my acquaintance.”
The dance separated them then, and she moved through the next measure with her heart in her throat, awaiting his reply.
He was too clever to misunderstand her invitation to make his intentions clear.
He regarded her with a piercing gaze and the hint of a smile when at last the form brought them face to face once more.
“Perhaps,” he said, “that will not be necessary. You might find there is one closer to hand who appreciates a lady of both wit and resolve.”
“That would be exceedingly convenient,” she replied lightly.
He laughed. “You are too generous to trifle with me. Would you still welcome my calls if I purported more in them than lively conversation?”
She blushed, but was not unequal to meeting his gaze as she answered him. “I dare say I should welcome them more, sir.”
The expression of satisfaction and delight which then overspread his features became him very well, and neither of them spoke a word for the remainder of the dance. Their smiles and glances communicated all that was necessary.