Chapter Five
Netherfield Ball
It was with eager anticipation that Mr. Wickham readied himself for the ball at Netherfield. Rarely in the last few years had George been invited to attend an event of this caliber and he did so enjoy dancing. As he tied his cravat in an elegant knot, George reflected on his first week in Meryton.
Mrs. Phillips was a warm and friendly woman who was prone to gossiping.
It was a relief that she was not malicious in the slightest, and George had learned much from the woman’s ramblings.
Her favorite topic centered around her beloved nieces.
Having never been blessed with children of her own, such was understandable.
George had known the Bennet ladies for scarcely a sennight, yet his conversations with Mrs. Phillips had told him much.
The eldest Bennet sister, Jane, was lauded as an angel in the flesh; Mrs. Phillips declared she had never met such a kind soul.
Jane’s temperament was quiet and shy, and she rarely showed her true feelings to anyone.
She loved deeply and freely, and she never had an unkind thing to say of anyone she met.
Miss Elizabeth was declared to be a firebrand and her father’s favorite.
Mrs. Phillips was sure her second niece was one of the most intelligent ladies in the county.
Many young gentlemen avoided speaking to her on more serious subjects because she often left them feeling foolish and uninformed.
Mr. Wickham’s own observations also painted Miss Elizabeth as stubborn and set in her opinions, and a rather hasty judge of character.
Mrs. Phillips had lamented her sister’s unfeeling comments about her niece’s looks; apparently Mrs. Bennet believed Elizabeth to be in no way equal to her sister Jane in beauty.
The report on Miss Mary was much as George had expected it to be.
She was pious and serious, constantly lecturing her younger sisters on their lack of propriety and decorum.
Mrs. Phillips believed Mary was destined to be a parson’s wife and George quite agreed that she might do well in such a position.
Miss Catherine was called Kitty by her family.
She was a follower by nature and was content to allow her younger sister Lydia to lead her around.
Both younger girls were fascinated with soldiers, much to the chagrin of their older siblings.
George had also learned he had been gravely mistaken as to Miss Lydia’s age.
The girl was only fifteen! Miss Kitty was not much older at seventeen years.
Mrs. Phillips had waxed eloquently on her belief that the two youngest girls were not ready to be out in society.
She declared that the whole village thought so as well, but they tolerated the silly children out of respect for Mr. Bennet and the two oldest Bennet sisters.
George heartily agreed that the youngest two were better suited for the schoolroom, based on his admittedly limited observations of the pair.
Miss Lydia and Miss Kitty were both ill-behaved in company, often giggling indiscreetly and flirting with anything that wore breeches.
Mrs. Phillips believed her sister and brother-in-law to be lackadaisical in their care.
Mr. Bennet could not be bothered to address his children’s behavior and Mrs. Bennet saw nothing wrong with it.
George ruminated on these reflections as he finished with his cravat and adjusted his cufflinks. The Bennets sounded like an intriguing family, and he was eager to know them better. Satisfied with his appearance, he descended the stairs to await the Phillips’.
The moon was full as the carriage trundled toward Netherfield.
The air felt chilly, but the group was bundled warmly in the conveyance, with warm bricks at their feet and rugs across their laps.
The passing scenery was hauntingly beautiful under the full moon and George was content to watch it pass as Mrs. Phillips rambled on about her anticipation of the evening.
The drive leading to the house was alight with lanterns.
The carriage came to a stop before the grand staircase leading to the entrance of the building.
Mr. Phillips descended from the coach before turning to assist his wife.
George followed last and the threesome climbed the steps together.
After divesting themselves of their outerwear, they made their way through the receiving line and into the ballroom.
George stopped just past the entrance to admire the room.
There were candles everywhere and their light reflected off the windows.
The effect was almost magical, and he was suitably impressed.
People mingled everywhere waiting for the first dance to be called.
Mr. Wickham could see several people he knew about the room.
Mr. Collins was with the Bennet family, hovering very close to Miss Elizabeth’s elbow.
Sir William Lucas and his daughter… Charlotte, he thought her name was, stood near as well.
Sir William gestured grandly with his hands and Mr. Bennet smiled at what his neighbor was saying.
George recognized many more faces, but failed to remember the names that went with them.
Well, he would attempt to rectify that this evening.
The first chords of the opening set began, and George realized he had not found a partner for that pair of dances.
Content to watch for now, he made his way to the side of the room to observe.
The set formed and the dance began. Mr. Bingley danced with Miss Bennet and the two seemed blissfully unaware of the rest of the room.
Further down the set was Miss Elizabeth and Mr. Collins.
George cringed as he watched his erstwhile friend bungle the dance steps badly enough that he trod on Miss Elizabeth’s feet.
The lady’s face grew gradually more drawn as the set continued.
Collins’ ineptness was excruciating to watch.
Finally, the set ended. Collins escorted his cousin off the dance floor and lumbered off towards the refreshment table.
George had solicited the hand of Miss Mary King, a young lady with a shock of red hair and a smattering of freckles on her nose, for the second set.
In the interim, he wandered the room, greeting people he knew and being introduced to those he was not known to.
As the second set approached, George began to make his way to Miss King.
“Mr Wickham,” Mr. Collins’ voice boomed out. “How are you enjoying this fine evening, sir?” he asked.
“Mr. Collins, well met,” was George’s reply. “I have yet to dance but I look forward to doing so the next set.”
“It is a pity that you were not able to partake in the first set of dances,” Collins said. “I was pleased to stand up with my fair cousin Elizabeth. I greatly enjoyed her lightness of step as we danced together. She is rather a catch, you know. I anticipate our union with much eagerness.”
Mr. Wickham cocked an eyebrow. “I was not aware that congratulations were in order, my friend,” he said calmly.
Collins blushed. “Well,” he stammered. “I have yet to address the lady, but I have been assured by her esteemed mother that my attentions are welcome and even expected. Lady Catherine will be most pleased that I have fulfilled her wishes. ‘Mr. Collins,’ she said, ‘A clergyman like you must marry. Choose properly, choose a gentlewoman for my sake; and for your own, let her be an active, useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small income go a good way.’ And so, I will marry Miss Elizabeth and Lady Catherine herself will visit my wife at the parsonage. Truly, am I not the most fortunate of men?”
George had grown more and more concerned as Mr. Collins had gone on.
Miss Elizabeth was in no way suited to be what Lady Catherine expected in Mr. Collins’ wife.
Wickham knew from experience that the great lady herself was outspoken and opinionated.
Nothing was beneath her notice and such a personality would clash greatly with someone like Miss Elizabeth.
Not only that but George had no doubt that Miss Elizabeth would soundly reject her cousin when he asked for her hand, notwithstanding Collins having her mother’s approval to speak.
In an effort to save Miss Elizabeth from the coming embarrassment of having to refuse a proposal, George decided to intervene before Collins could make a cake of himself. “Collins,” he said tentatively. “Why have you settled on Miss Elizabeth?”
“Why, she is second of her sisters in both beauty and age. Miss Jane Bennet is being courted by Mr. Bingley and as such is not available for my addresses. Miss Elizabeth is the next logical choice.”
“And you think you and she would suit?” Wickham asked.
Collins seemed confused. “Suit? Why would we not suit? It is a lady’s place to secure a husband and to be obedient and submissive in all ways. Her mother has sanctioned the match and I daresay Miss Elizabeth will be honored by my addresses. She will accept because it is her duty to do so.”
“But what of temperament and compatibility?” George asked. “Should a wife not esteem her husband not because she must but because she truly likes him?”
“Such things matter not. I have been assured that love will grow with time.”
“And have you seen many relationships grow in love where one or other of the couple were less than eager for the match?” George asked.
Collins wrinkled his brow in confusion, unable to comprehend what George was trying to say. George decided a different tactic was needed.
“I am sure you have also noticed that Miss Elizabeth is willful and headstrong. I have not been in the area long, but her aunt, Mrs. Phillips, assures me that Elizabeth is unyielding and stubborn and resists change. Are those personality traits valued in a parson’s wife, particularly one under the purview of Lady Catherine de Bourgh? ”