Chapter 39 The Twelfth Night Ball
His expression was grave, and a tremor passed through her.
Was he regretting her? Was he suddenly realizing how very far beneath him she truly stood? The milkmaid dressed in heavy silk and jewels to deceive the members of his class?
Her hand rose instinctively to her bosom, brushing the elegant diamond necklace he had brought to her and fastened there with his own hands. His eyes had been intent while fastening it about her throat, and she had flushed beneath the heat of his regard.
Now his gaze followed her hand to her décolletage, and at once he relaxed.
“Do you like it, Elizabeth?” he whispered.
Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Like it, sir? I love it. It is the most beautiful thing I have ever worn.”
His smile filled her with warmth.
She had pleased him.
She felt his hand glide lightly along her wrist, and warmth stirred low in her belly before rising upward through her chest, her throat, and into her cheeks. He was watching her closely, and his eyes gleamed with satisfaction when he saw her blush.
He was no longer the grave, reticent man she had feared moments earlier. He was the man who longed for her just as keenly as she longed for him.
Gladness brightened her face, and then Lady Helen moved farther along the receiving line. After they were introduced to Lord Harcourt and Lady Sophia, they followed Lady Helen into the ballroom.
Elizabeth was struck by the beauty of the golden glow cast by a thousand candles, the countless potted trees and flowering plants, and the delicate netting festooned about the musicians’ gallery.
Her gaze wandered over every detail, though she took great care not to stare nor betray how wondrous she found her surroundings.
Mr. Butler had repeatedly warned them never to gape at the splendor of society functions like unsophisticated provincials, and so she remained silent beside Lady Helen, behaving as though such magnificence were perfectly commonplace.
Lady Helen turned toward her nephew.
“Fitzwilliam, under no circumstances are you to dance with Elizabeth or with any other lady. Remember that you remain in mourning for a close relation. Your black evening clothes become you exceedingly well, nephew. I only hope you do not attract too much feminine attention looking so dangerously handsome.”
“Aunt Helen, between your dark lavender gown trimmed with black lace and my mourning attire, I believe myself reasonably protected from scheming mammas intent upon shackling me to their daughters. And if Elizabeth remains at my side, I believe I am entirely shielded.”
Sir Gareth approached with Jane upon his arm, and the two sisters exchanged a kiss.
“Jane, my dear, you look stunning.”
Sir Gareth grinned and bent to whisper in his wife’s ear, “And you are entirely mine, as amiable as you are lovely.”
Jane pressed lightly against the arm she held. “Sir, you shall be overheard.”
“And what of it, Lady Beaumont? I speak only the truth.”
She lifted her face to meet his eyes. “Gareth, you are excessively kind…”
Elizabeth stifled a giggle behind her gloved hand. “Newlyweds…”
Beaumont smiled. “We are difficult company, are we not?”
At that moment, Lord Dunwich approached the Countess.
Bowing low, he said, “Lady Helen, might I beg an introduction to your young friend?”
Elizabeth was startled to see Lady Helen’s brow narrow into a frown. She was displeased.
Her eyes darted toward Mr. Darcy, whose expression had darkened into a scowl. She then looked toward Sir Gareth and saw that he, too, appeared angry.
Something was very wrong, though she could not imagine what it might be.
Lady Helen said coolly, “Lord Dunwich, this is my nephew’s betrothed, Miss Bennet. She and Fitzwilliam had been set to marry in November, but owing to the unexpected passing of Lady Catherine, the wedding has necessarily been delayed.”
Dunwich met Darcy’s dark gaze and grinned. “Why, Darcy, are you not a fortunate fellow?”
He turned his attention back to Elizabeth, who had been observing the entire exchange with growing trepidation. Lord Dunwich appeared to be deliberately provoking Fitzwilliam.
She studied Darcy’s face, but by now he had regained command of his countenance. He inclined his head slightly.
“I consider myself exceedingly fortunate, Dunwich.”
The tall blond gentleman returned his attention to Elizabeth. His smile was devastating.
His deep blue eyes settled upon her as he took her hand.
“Miss Bennet, may I claim this dance?”
Elizabeth looked neither toward Lady Helen nor toward Mr. Darcy. She already understood that she could not refuse, though Mr. Darcy appeared plainly distressed.
“Thank you, sir.”
He offered his arm and escorted her onto the dance floor.
“My lady, you are without doubt, the loveliest woman in attendance.”
His eyes dropped briefly to her bosom before returning to her face.
“You possess the most expressive eyes, ma’am. If a glance could strike a man dead, I should be laid out upon the ballroom floor this very instant.”
Elizabeth could not help laughing.
“Yes, my lord. You would be laid at Mr. Darcy’s feet.”
“So, you observed the tension between us? We have long been rivals, ma’am. I am titled while he is not, yet he is wealthier than I, which I find exceedingly vexing.”
Her beautifully arched brow lifted in quiet protest.
“Ah, I see. You are loyal to your betrothed, and you will not hear a word against him. Admirable, ma’am. I should like to discover a woman who would defend my honor so fiercely. Darcy is a fortunate man.”
They took their places in the line, and Elizabeth felt grateful when the music finally began.
He danced exceedingly well and guided her skillfully through the figures. Whenever the dance permitted conversation, he spoke to her, but she answered only what politeness required and not another word, lest she encourage him.
“Miss Bennet, you appear determined not to converse. Do you seek to humble my pretensions? You need not trouble yourself, for it cannot be done. When I see something I desire, I stop at nothing to obtain it, whether it be a work of fine art or a beautiful woman. I invariably secure what I want.”
Elizabeth merely pressed her lips together, raised her chin, and remained silent.
He laughed softly.
“Your beautiful eyes have struck me down yet again. You are uniformly charming, and I am persuaded that once I have enjoyed sufficient time to court you, my addresses shall not fail of acceptance.”
Elizabeth was rendered speechless. The abhorrence in her eyes was so unmistakable that Lord Dunwich laughed again, as though she had offered some exceedingly clever reply.
“Ma’am, your outrage is so unexpected that I cannot help but find amusement in it. Never in my life have I been refused by a woman. Why, even the little girls upon my father’s estate offered me their hands in marriage when I was but six years old.”
Elizabeth pressed her lips into an even firmer line and refused to utter another word.
They continued the dance in silence, though he persisted in offering flirtatious remarks whenever the figures brought them together.
“You must know that you become even more beautiful when your eyes blaze with anger. And those dark, curling lashes are devastating, ma’am.”
Her eyes narrowed further.
“You are as fierce as a wasp, my lovely girl. I must say again that you are uniformly enchanting. I am bewitched, not merely by your many charms, but by your spirit. A man could never grow weary of life with such a woman beside him.”
Elizabeth feared that the dance might continue forever.
Something of that sentiment must have shown upon her face, for he bent his head and murmured, “You are wishing for this set to end so that you may finally be rid of me. But do not fear that I shall forget you, my darling girl. Tomorrow, I shall present myself at your doorstep along with all the other men who shall soon dangle at your lovely feet.”
His eyes moved over her with admiration.
“You are a Venus, Miss Bennet. An indulgent Venus. Do you know that?”
He studied her face closely.
“I say, you truly do not know it. You are one of those rare beauties entirely unaware of her own charms. You are free of vanity and conceit.”
She attempted to free herself from his hold.
His smile only widened.
“The dance is not yet over, lovely Venus. It would hardly do for you to abandon me upon the floor. The ton would immediately begin wondering what passed between us.”
His tone remained light, though there was calculation beneath it.
“It is not my intention to marry beneath a cloud of scandal. No, ma’am.
When I marry, it shall be to a lovely innocent such as yourself, and in perfect respectability.
For no matter what you may one day hear of me, my wife shall be innocent, respectable…
” His eyes darkened slightly. “…and very much alive with spirit, ma’am. ”
Elizabeth dropped her gaze to the level of his chest and prayed the heat in her cheeks would cool.
The figures carried them apart, but when he rejoined her, he said softly, “You are wise to remain silent. It would never do for society to witness us striving openly with one another. Such battles are best reserved for private moments.”
Her hand tightened instinctively in his, as though she might again attempt escape.
He grinned, and the look he gave her was so ardent that she finally understood what was meant when a gentleman was called a rake. His eyes rested fixedly upon her lips.
“Good girl. You did not run. I have teased you enough. I shall stop now, for I find it increasingly difficult to keep myself within the bounds of propriety.” His expression was earnest. “With you, Miss Bennet, everything must proceed with the strictest propriety.”
The music finally ended, and he released her hand.
He bowed. She curtsied.
“Miss Bennet, I do not believe I have ever enjoyed a dance so thoroughly as I enjoyed this one. Thank you.”
He offered his arm, and when she hesitated, he murmured, “We are presently the object of every eye in the room. Do you truly wish to give those cats reason to gossip?”
Elizabeth lowered her eyes and placed her hand upon his arm.
“I shall call upon you tomorrow, my dear girl. I mean to become your most ardent cicisbeo.”
His smile deepened.
“Until then, I must bid you good evening. Unfortunately, I am expected elsewhere tonight, or I would beg you for another dance, but my friends are expecting to meet me at a notorious gaming hell.”
Her brow rose in unmistakable judgment.
He chuckled softly. “You disapprove. Were you mine, you might persuade me to remain quietly at home with you. But we are not married, not yet, and so I must leave you for now.”
He escorted her back to Lady Helen, bowed, and departed the ballroom.
Lady Helen smiled broadly, took Elizabeth by the arm, and drew her close.
“You must smile, Elizabeth, and appear a delighted guest, or society will conclude that the man made you an indecent proposal.”
Elizabeth’s expression softened instantly into a smile, as though Lady Helen had uttered something exceedingly witty.
Mr. Darcy drew near then and asked in a lowered voice, “Did he make an indecent proposal, Elizabeth?”
She lifted her eyes to meet his. “No, sir.”
“Why then did you appear so distressed? What did he say to you?”
“He spoke of marriage, sir, and threatened to call upon me tomorrow as my most ardent cicisbeo.”
There was no opportunity for further explanation, for Lady Helen was immediately approached by three wholesome-looking young gentlemen who eagerly requested introductions to her young companion.
With each introduction, Lady Helen carefully announced Elizabeth’s engagement to Mr. Darcy, upon which the gentlemen offered both congratulations and regret that Darcy had secured her affections first.
Elizabeth’s dance card was filled before the next set even commenced.
She danced the evening away and found herself well pleased with all her partners. They proved genial, respectable young men whose manners put her entirely at ease.
She sat out the supper dance with her own party, and afterward they all proceeded in together to supper.
Beaumont laughed and nudged Darcy lightly.
“It is fortunate you shackled yourself while still in Kent, Darcy, or you might well have lost your chance.”
Because Darcy had been thinking much the same thing himself, he did not receive the jest kindly and merely glowered at his future brother.
Lady Helen patted Elizabeth’s hand.
“You possess very pretty social graces, my girl. I have nothing for which to blush, and had you not suffered the misfortune of…” She paused and glanced meaningfully about her. “But we shall speak of that later. For now, we shall sit while Fitzwilliam fetches our supper.”