Chapter 46 The Morton Ball
Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy stood in the receiving line at the Morton Ball.
It had been but two weeks since their quiet marriage.
Those weeks with him had been glorious. Georgiana had returned to Darcy House two days earlier, and Elizabeth felt the constraint of a third person in the household, a young girl requiring care and entertainment, while her greatest desire was to enjoy solitude with Mr. Darcy.
The line advanced, and her attention returned to the present.
The introductions to the Mortons were performed, and as they entered the great hall, Lady Helen drew near to Elizabeth and said, “Lady Morton’s daughter fixed her eye upon Fitzwilliam long ago, my dear.
Both mother and daughter intended to secure him for themselves by any means available.
I am exceedingly pleased Fitzwilliam has escaped the designs of that calculating woman. ”
Elizabeth whispered, “Do you mean they intended a compromise?”
“Yes, my dear. Lady Sophia first learned of it through her maid, but the matter spread so widely that she eventually heard it from three separate sources. I daresay Fitzwilliam would have escaped the trap even had he not married, but he stands well clear of that connection now. It is widely understood that Miss Morton has been about the town.”
“Been about the town?”
“Yes, you understand me. With gentlemen.”
“Indeed? Poor Fitzwilliam, had he been shackled to such a woman.”
“Yes, it would have ruined his life. He would never know whether a child belonged to him or to one of her lovers. But at three and twenty she has borne no children. Perhaps she cannot conceive.”
Elizabeth fell silent as she considered Miss Morton’s designs on Fitzwilliam.
“Or she may insist upon the use of French letters,” Lady Helen added as an afterthought.
Elizabeth raised a brow and resolved to ask her husband what French letters were and what purpose they served.
When they entered the ballroom proper, she was transfixed by the beauty of the decor. No expense had been spared. Candlelight glittered upon jewels and silk, and gowns shimmered in every shade beneath the sun. A dreaded voice dragged her back into the cold, dark world that contained Lord Dunwich.
His head bent so near that his lips almost brushed her ear. “You are lovelier than I remembered. The lovely innocent, awaiting a lover who will claim her virtue.”
She recoiled, brushing against Mr. Darcy’s arm. He broke off his conversation with Lady Helen and placed a hand against Elizabeth’s back to steady her. “Darling, are you unwell?”
She opened her fan and sought relief from the heat blooming across her cheeks.
Then Mr. Darcy caught sight of Dunwich. “Come, Mrs. Darcy. There is a vacant chair there. You may sit beside Lady Helen while I fetch you a glass of punch.”
Then, directing his attention to his aunt, he said, “Aunt Helen, Elizabeth stands in need of you.”
One glance sufficed for the Countess to take in Lord Dunwich, Elizabeth’s distress, and the anger hardening Darcy’s features. “Certainly, Fitzwilliam. Come, Elizabeth.”
An elegant lady took the Countess’s arm and greeted her. The two older ladies moved toward the vacant chairs, but Lord Dunwich stepped into Elizabeth’s path.
“Mrs. Darcy? I had not heard of a marriage. How can this be? Only two weeks have passed since last we were in company.”
Elizabeth lifted her eyes in search of her husband.
“He has gone, my dear. He cannot save you. Answer me. Are you truly married to Darcy?”
She lowered her gaze again, scarcely able to endure his proprietary manner and predatory stare.
“Yes, sir. We married two weeks ago.”
“So, my Innocent has known a man.”
The shocking declaration forced her eyes upward. He looked away into the crowd.
Then his gaze settled upon her once more. “I so wished for an innocent bride.” His eyes traveled over her form. “Yet I perceive you have not surrendered your innocence entirely, even after two weeks as Darcy’s wife.”
Her stomach lurched.
His lips curved. “I have horrified you. Forgive me, darling. I forget how one addresses an innocent. I daresay I find you even more seductive now than before.”
She withdrew from him and, though every instinct urged her to flee, forced herself to cross the short distance to Lady Helen’s protection with measured steps.
She lowered herself into the vacant chair and fixed her attention upon the turbaned lady who commanded Lady Helen’s attention.
Then his voice sounded again. All three ladies directed their attention toward Lord Dunwich.
“Mrs. Darcy, may I claim the supper set?”
But she had recovered herself and fortified her mind against his onslaught. She neither flinched nor hesitated.
“I beg your pardon, sir. The supper set has already been claimed, as have the first, the last, and every waltz.”
His handsome mouth curved into a smile. A dimple, very like Mr. Darcy’s, appeared in his cheek.
“Touché, ma’am. Then reserve your first available dance for me, Mrs. Darcy.”
“The fifth stands free, sir.”
He bowed. “I thank you, ma’am.”
Mr. Darcy returned with her punch, and he was immediately concerned when he noticed her trembling hand. He could not speak freely with the dowager seated beside his aunt.
Elizabeth accepted the cup in both hands and held it until the trembling subsided.
“Sir, I have reserved the supper set, the first, the last, and every waltz for you.”
He raised a brow and chuckled. “You are exceedingly adept, darling. Which dance did you grant him?”
“The fifth. I am sorry, sir. I know you dislike dancing.”
“I have discovered dancing with my wife bears no resemblance to dancing with women who value me only for the pounds I command rather than for the man I am.”
“Thank you, sir. You are very gracious. You may escape a great many dances if we depart before the evening concludes.”
“We dare not, darling. My aunt would place our heads upon a platter should we steal away too early.”
At that moment, a young gentleman approached. “May I claim your next available, Mrs. Darcy?”
Before she rose with her husband for the first dance, her card stood entirely filled.
“Will you fare well, Elizabeth? With Lord Dunwich?”
“Surely he is not likely to lure me outdoors?”
“Why should such a thought enter your mind, darling?”
Anger flared in his eyes, and she dared not repeat the blackguard's words. She had no wish for Mr. Darcy to call the man out on her account.
Instead, she said, “He lacks principle, sir. He is no gentleman.”
“He did not threaten to abduct you, did he, Elizabeth?”
“No, sir, he did not. I merely feel uneasy in his company. You will keep watch over us lest he attempt to lure me into the gardens?”
“Yes. I shall keep as near you as possible. If he knows I am watching, he ought to conduct himself as a man of honor.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Their dance commenced. Elizabeth moved through the cotillion with ease and soon lost herself in the music and the figures. By the end of the dance, her eyes were bright with pleasure, and she was conversing happily with Mr. Darcy when a nervous young gentleman approached to claim her hand.
Elizabeth enjoyed all her dance partners and was laughing with Mr. Darcy at the edge of the dance floor when Lord Dunwich presented himself. He stood as tall as Mr. Darcy, and the two gentlemen faced one another in silence.
Lord Dunwich extended his hand toward Elizabeth. “Mrs. Darcy, this dance is mine.”
She released her husband’s arm and permitted his lordship to lead her back onto the floor.
“You dance beautifully, my dear. Never have I felt so entranced as when I watched you.”
Heat rose in her cheeks. “Sir, you will conduct yourself properly. I am a married woman.”
“Yes, you are, unfortunately for me. You ought to have waited for me, my girl. You do not know what you forfeit.”
“Sir, you will desist at once, or I shall leave you standing on the dance floor.”
“You dare not, Mrs. Darcy. Though you are a married woman, society will whisper. I am known to dally with married ladies. What conclusions will people draw?”
She fixed him with a glare.
“Bewitching. If you wish to preserve your fidelity to your husband, you will refrain from looking at me in precisely that manner.”
She lowered her eyes. Thankfully, the music commenced.
The quadrille brought Elizabeth repeatedly into Lord Dunwich’s orbit, and during the allemande, he bent nearer than propriety allowed. Awareness sharpened of the possessive firmness of his hand upon hers.
With effort, she maintained a careful distance between them. His low laugh sent a chill across her skin. “Your resistance acts as an enticement to me, Elizabeth.”
“My lord, you have no leave to use my Christian name. You will comport yourself as a gentleman.”
Amusement glittered in his eyes. “Yes, ma’am. I have declared it before, but I shall repeat myself. You are uniformly charming.”
After that, he fell silent and ceased provoking her. Since he danced with considerable skill, she found herself able to enjoy the dance once he resolved to conduct himself properly.
When the dance concluded, he released her hand and bowed. “I intended to lure you into the gardens and steal a kiss, but your husband has stalked us throughout the dance.”
At those words, she lifted her eyes and searched the crowd. Mr. Darcy stood no more than five feet away. Emotion caught in her throat, and her eyes filled at the sight of his dear face. His mere presence had preserved her from this dangerous libertine.
Lord Dunwich said, “You need not appear as though dancing with me were a punishment.”
She remained beside him only long enough to curtsy and then withdrew. A smile touched her lips when Mr. Darcy offered his arm. He embodied everything honorable, wholesome, and gentlemanly.
“Fitzwilliam, thank you.”
His brows rose.
“Thank you.” Her voice faltered. “Thank you for stalking us.”
“Stalking you?”
“Yes. Lord Dunwich declared he would have taken me into the gardens and stolen a kiss had you not stalked us throughout the dance.”
“Darling, he sought only to provoke you. I doubt he would dare attempt such a thing. I am known for my skill with pistols.”
Her eyes clouded. “I could not endure it if you faced a gentleman upon the field, sir. Please, let us quit London and retire to Derbyshire.”
“I do not shrink from my duty, Elizabeth.”
“I know, sir, but I do. I could not endure my life without you. Why should we hazard such danger over the impertinence of an arrogant rake?”
No further opportunity for conversation presented itself, for another gentleman claimed her for the next dance.
At last, the waltz arrived, and he led her onto the floor. They stood some distance from the nearest couple.
“Do you fare better now, Mrs. Darcy?”
“Yes, sir. Every gentleman with whom I have danced has proven kind and amiable. Wholesome, sir. I could enjoy a London season were it not for the blackguard who pursues me.”
“I will keep you safe, my darling.”
The music commenced, and he took her hand in his while his other settled at her waist. She had eyes only for him and kept them fixed upon his face throughout the dance.
When it concluded, she said, “I love being held within your arms, sir. Do not laugh at me, but I feel like Cinderella at the ball, dancing at midnight with her prince.”
Pleasure lit his eyes. “I had never imagined myself cast as the prince in a beautiful lady’s fairy tale. I find I like it exceedingly well, Elizabeth.”
Her laugh held warmth and intimacy.
Then they turned to rejoin Lady Helen, and Elizabeth met the dark eyes of the man she had come to dread. He observed her like a predator studying its prey before the strike. She faltered, and Darcy, noticing it, followed her gaze. He glowered at Lord Dunwich, who answered with a smirk.