Chapter 9
For two days following the call at Netherfield, it rained constantly. No activities out of doors were possible, and another visit to the puppies was out of the question.
Elizabeth felt at peace that the little souls were being taken care of in the best way. There was not much she could do for the time being. She had decided she would take the puppies the moment they were weaned, but until then, the solution offered by Mr Darcy was the best.
Besides the bad weather, there was another reason that kept Elizabeth in the house; she felt a strange thrill and anxiety at the notion of seeing Mr Darcy again, one she could not explain but that disquieted her.
Kitty and Lydia, together with Jane, went to Meryton one day, and they returned with the joy of having met the officers and told Elizabeth Mr Wickham had particularly enquired about her.
“Lizzy, I hope you will not dance more than two sets at the most with Wickham. We want to dance with him too,” Lydia said.
While assuring her sister she must not worry, Elizabeth realised that she had been so absorbed in other things lately, that she had almost forgotten about Mr Wickham and the distress he had suffered at the hands of Mr Darcy.
Seeing more of the latter’s character, she was even more intrigued by the notion that he had purposely disregarded his father’s wish and consigned his childhood companion to poverty out of jealousy and malice.
Being trapped in the house, Mr Collins’s company became more tedious, but — to Elizabeth’s relief — his attentions to her seemed to have diminished.
“Thank God the scratches on your face look better, Lizzy,” her mother said on the morning of the ball. “You do not look as pretty as you used to, and I doubt anyone will want to dance with you, except perhaps for Mr Collins. But at least you do not look as ill as a few days ago.”
“How comforting to hear you say that, Mama,” Elizabeth said. Arguing with her mother was pointless, just as Jane had said.
The Bennet ladies prepared themselves with extra care. Mrs Bennet insisted that Jane must look her best, since she claimed the ball had been thrown in her eldest daughter’s honour by Mr Bingley. As much as Jane tried to convince her it was not true, Mrs Bennet insisted.
Although Elizabeth had been unsure whether she wished to attend, once she decided she would, she was more concerned with her image than she had been on other similar occasions, for no apparent reason.
The rain was still pouring, but an hour prior to their departure, it stopped. Despite being already dark, the sky could be seen clearing, the moon and the stars showing their faces timidly. At the same time, the temperature dropped considerably.
The Bennets — together with Mr Collins — were among the first guests to arrive.
They were greeted with joy by Mr Bingley and with cold politeness by his sisters. Moments later, the admiral appeared with an expression of genuine delight. Behind him, Mr Darcy bowed his head, welcoming them with much more restraint.
“Oh look! Denny is here!” Lydia suddenly cried. “And Pratt and Wickham! Let us go and speak to them.”
Before they could be stopped, Lydia and Kitty ran down the hall, with everybody staring after them.
Elizabeth looked at Jane — who was blushing with shame under Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst’s appalled glares — then at her father, who seemed vaguely amused by the scene.
Her mother had already chosen a seat by the wall in the ballroom and had saved another one for Mrs Phillips.
While Mr Bingley offered his arm to Jane and her father spoke to the admiral, Elizabeth found herself alone with Mary.
The ball had not even started yet, and her family was already embarrassing themselves.
And to complete her mortification, she saw Mr Collins approaching Mr Darcy again.
She could see that they were talking, and she observed Mr Collins’s bowed head and Mr Darcy’s stern expression — clear signs that the conversation was not going well.
Shortly afterwards, more guests arrived, including the Lucases. Elizabeth was pleased to see Charlotte and found some comfort in talking to her, while Maria sat with Mary.
Mr Collins greeted Sir William, and Mr Darcy immediately departed, causing Elizabeth to smile. The poor man seemed relieved to escape Mr Collins’s insistence, and Elizabeth could sympathise with him.
Slowly, the ballroom became so crowded with people that some gentlemen preferred to stay in the hall.
The musicians prepared their instruments, and some couples moved into the centre of the room, ready for the first set.
With delight, Elizabeth noticed Mr Bingley and Jane engaged in conversation, and she expected — and hoped — they would open the ball together.
“My dear cousin Elizabeth, my dear Miss Lucas,” Mr Collins said, approaching them with a large grin on his face. Elizabeth was not certain whether she should laugh or roll her eyes.
“Miss Lucas, may I have the honour of dancing a set with you,” the unctuous parson asked.
Charlotte smiled, and Elizabeth saw an opportunity to improve her own evening.
“If Charlotte does not oppose it, I suggest you dance the first set with her. I should like to discuss a certain matter with my father.”
“I do not oppose it at all,” Charlotte replied.
“That sounds like an excellent arrangement,” Mr Collins said. “And then I shall dance the second set with you, Cousin Elizabeth. You must not feel slighted.”
“Mr Collins, I can safely say I do not feel slighted at all,” she answered in all honesty, walking towards the chairs. She watched Jane beaming at Mr Bingley’s side, leading the row of dancers. Neither Miss Bingley nor Mrs Hurst were dancing, only talking to each other.
Lydia and Kitty, as well as several other young women, were dancing with officers.
Elizabeth remembered the assembly when she had also sat out for a few sets, causing Mr Darcy to call her ‘slighted by other men’. This time, as she had just told Mr Collins, she did not feel slighted at all.
The music had already begun when Mr Wickham — who was apparently without a partner too — walked towards Elizabeth.
He smiled and she smiled back. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr Darcy walking in her direction too; she had the feeling he intended to come to her, but seeing Mr Wickham, he stopped.
Moments later, he joined the group with the admiral, Mr Bennet, Colonel Forster, and Sir William.
“Miss Bennet, I am sorry for not coming to speak to you earlier. I was exceedingly happy to see you, but you were in company I preferred to avoid.”
“It is good to see you, Mr Wickham. At a ball, one has to bear all sorts of company, some less pleasant than others. It is a good thing we have enough people to choose from.”
“True and wise, Miss Bennet. Would you do me the honour choosing me as your partner for this set?” His manner was teasing, and she answered in the same tone.
“I would say you have chosen me for this set, and I am pleased with your choice.”
“Excellent.” He took her hand and escorted her to the floor, joining the row of other couples. As she followed the steps, she cast a look at Mr Darcy and noticed — and also felt — his dark stare upon her. Or perhaps upon her dance partner.
“I heard you were caught in some rather traumatic circumstances,” Mr Wickham said. “Please forgive my insolence, but I have to say some of the marks of it are still visible. I hope you feel well?”
“It is not insolence if it is honest. I do feel well. There was no trauma, only a little bit of adventure caused by some puppies. I hope you did not hear an exaggerated report.”
“I admit I was very worried and intended to call at Longbourn. But I feared I might happen upon Darcy there. The rumours said he was also involved in your little adventure…”
Elizabeth felt her cheeks burning.
“Mr Darcy was only involved in escorting me home, as any gentleman would have done, I suppose.”
“Yes, of course. I was a little surprised to hear Darcy had become a friend of your family and a regular visitor.”
“Mr Darcy has visited us a few times, together with Mr Bingley and the admiral. We would be proud to call him a friend, but I am not certain that is the case.”
“Yes, Darcy is capable of making people like him when he wishes to. However, even as a child he did not have many friends. That might be yet another reason why he is jealous of me,” Mr Wickham said meaningfully, and Elizabeth felt uncomfortable.
“Jealousy implies Mr Darcy would like to have as many friends as you have. I am not sure that is the case,” she said.
Mr Wickham’s grin grew broader. “You must be correct. On careful consideration, I am not even sure why he is jealous of me and denied me what was rightfully mine, given by my godfather.”
Elizabeth was still curious about the conflict between the two men but not desirous of hearing the story of the living once again.
“Perhaps we should ask Mr Darcy when the opportunity arises. That would be the fairest approach. Ask him directly, and perhaps the clarification will lead to a new understanding between you.”
“You are as lovely as you are kind-hearted, Miss Bennet. The bridge between the two of us has been long burnt, and Darcy started the fire. There is nothing to be done.”
“If that is your belief, we had better not even speak of this matter again. Would you not agree?” Elizabeth concluded.
“As you wish. I only mentioned my past misfortune with Darcy because I was told he had offended you too. In fact, he has a habit of offending people everywhere he goes.”
“Again, I am sure the report you heard was exaggerated. If there was an offence, it has long been forgotten. Mr Darcy — as well as the admiral — has been nothing but polite to everyone lately, as far as I know.”
“Perhaps Darcy has changed a little, though I know he is too proud of himself to even consider he might have to modify his behaviour.”
“I can neither support nor contradict your claim, Mr Wickham, but I am not comfortable speaking of a gentleman without giving him the chance to defend himself.”
“I perfectly understand you. I am sure that seeing Darcy more often, and since he has become a friend of your father, you have the tendency to forgive some of his flaws. Generally speaking, rich people are more easily forgiven than the rest of us.”
At that moment, his voice contained a trace of insolence, which irritated Elizabeth.
“Mr Darcy’s wealth is of no concern to me, and it certainly does not influence my reason. However, I am sure many men of your age have flaws that need to be forgotten and forgiven. Mr Darcy deserves no more or less forgiveness than you or any other.”
Before Mr Wickham had time to reply, the music stopped, and only then did Elizabeth realise half an hour had already passed.
“Thank you, Miss Bennet. Your company was absolutely enchanting, as always,” Mr Wickham said without any reply to her last statement.
“It was my pleasure, Mr Wickham,” she replied.
She reunited with her sisters while Mr Wickham withdrew immediately.
Mr Collins was also walking their way with Charlotte, the pair still talking together.
His grin irritated Elizabeth, and she was ready to leave the stifling ballroom when she found herself face-to-face with Mr Darcy.
She startled, and her cheeks burned as he was so close that he was almost touching her. He realised too and took a step back.
“Miss Bennet, if you are not otherwise engaged, would you do me the honour of dancing the next set with me?”
Mr Collins and Charlotte approached, and Elizabeth considered declining that particular set, since it was tentatively promised.
But instead, she said, “Thank you, yes. Mr Collins has asked for a set too, but I am sure he will agree to choose another one. Will you not, Mr Collins? I cannot possibly refuse Mr Darcy.”
Mr Darcy looked puzzled and Mr Collins displeased, and the latter struggled to maintain a formal, polite countenance while answering.
“Of course not, my dear cousin! I would not dare refuse Mr Darcy anything he would do me the honour of asking for.”
“I promise to never ask anything from you, Mr Collins,” Mr Darcy uttered. “If I ever do, please consider refusing it, without concern. Thank you, Miss Bennet. I shall return for your hand when the music starts.”
Elizabeth gazed after Mr Darcy’s departing figure in a state of disquiet.
She had been surprised by his offer; he had not danced the first, and she had expected he would not dance at all.
Why would he single her out? Because he wished to compensate for his rudeness at the assembly?
Or because he was on friendly terms with her father?
“My dear cousin Elizabeth, will you then save the third set for me?” Mr Collins asked.
“It would be an honour to dance with you after Mr Darcy. And I hope you realise the honour he is giving you by dancing with you. I believe it is out of consideration for my close bond to Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
Elizabeth looked at her cousin, astounded. Could he be serious? There were times when she wondered whether he was in his right mind — and this was one of those times.
“The next set is certainly secured for you, Mr Collins,” she answered briefly, but he continued to speak of Lady Catherine until fortunately the music began, and the pairs lined up. She saw Mr Darcy approaching, and in order to escape from Mr Collins, she walked towards him and met him halfway.
“Miss Bennet…”
“Mr Darcy…”
He stretched out his hand, and she placed hers in his palm.
His fingers closed around hers — a simple gesture, one that occurred every time, with each set, with each partner.
And yet, she felt more distress than ever before, and as she walked by his side, she questioned the strange sensation that made her quiver.