Chapter Twenty-Five
The ball had transformed Chaffley Hall. Garlands of summer greenery framed the ballroom doors, candles blazed from every branch of the chandeliers and purple ribbons had been wound around the pillars in honour of the victorious team.
The Challenge Cup stood upon a raised table at the end of the room, polished until the ballroom shimmered across its silver sides
Lady Hortensia was resplendent on a high-backed seat beside the musicians.
She had chosen peacock-blue silk for the evening, the skirts richly embroidered with silver vines and tiny seed pearls that caught the candlelight whenever she moved.
A spray of white feathers rose from her hair, secured by a sapphire clasp, and she appeared every inch the queen of her domain.
Elizabeth entered with Jane and Mr Bennet, trying not to search the room too obviously.
Darcy was not there. Colonel Fitzwilliam was and he crossed to claim Jane almost immediately, looking so happy that Elizabeth could not resent him for it.
The Sitcombe sisters were surrounded by admirers, Amelia stood with Henry Blackwood beneath the approving eye of Mrs Harrington and Thomas Hadley had already asked Mrs Cartwright to dance.
Still Darcy did not come. The musicians began the first set and the fact that she would not dance it with him sat heavily on her chest as couples took their places.
Mr Bennet offered his hand. "You appear to be without a partner, my Lizzy."
She looked at him sharply, but his expression revealed nothing beyond familiar amusement. "You do not often dance, Papa."
"No, but I find myself moved by pity. It would be a terrible thing for the captain of the victorious ladies to stand neglected at her own celebration."
"I am not neglected," she said quickly, not really believing the words.
"Then you may regard this as an opportunity to reward your elderly father for travelling to Derbyshire."
She laughed despite herself and allowed him to lead her onto the floor.
Mr Bennet danced with greater enthusiasm than grace, speaking little until the figures brought them briefly together. "You need not look towards the door at every turn," he said.
The dance separated them again before she could question him. When it ended, he bowed with exaggerated solemnity and returned her to Jane.
The first dance had come and gone. Elizabeth told herself there might be a reasonable explanation, but disappointment had already taken hold.
She accepted a dance with Thomas Hadley and another with Captain Fanshawe, conversing pleasantly enough while remaining conscious of every entrance and exit to the ballroom.
When the second set ended, Lady Hortensia struck her cane against the floor and announced that the time had come for the gentlemen to pay their forfeit.
A cheer rose from the ladies. The gentlemen answered with a chorus of groans.
Mr Pritchard appeared carrying a tray of flower crowns twined with purple ribbon, while two footmen brought forward the painted scenery and neglected properties from the gentlemen's unfortunate dramatic performance. The meaning of the arrangement became clear at once.
"No," said Sir Geoffrey with a groan.
"Yes," said Lady Hortensia with a wicked grin.
The gentlemen were required to perform their play again before the assembled company, this time wearing the colours of the victorious side.
James Blackwood accepted his crown with extravagant misery, while Colonel Fitzwilliam placed his at a rakish angle.
Mr Hadley and Captain Fanshawe had both taken enough wine to regard the prospect as excellent entertainment and retook their parts with enthusiasm.
The performance bore only a distant resemblance to the original.
Lines were forgotten, invented or delivered to the wrong character.
James prolonged his death scene until the rest of the players simply stepped over him and continued speaking, while Captain Fanshawe introduced a sword fight into a scene which had previously contained neither swords nor the slightest quarrel.
Sir Geoffrey attempted to preserve some dignity, but his crown slipped over one eye during his longest speech and remained there.
Mr Ashcombe endured the whole with the expression of a man suffering a grave public injustice.
"And where is Darcy?" James demanded from the floor during his second death. "Our captain has abandoned us in our darkest hour."
Colonel Fitzwilliam adjusted the purple wreath slipping over one eyebrow. "My cousin has always possessed an almost uncanny power of self-preservation."
"Do not defend him," James said. "He ought to be suffering with the rest of us."
"Oh, I am not defending him. I fully intend to make him perform the entire play alone when he returns."
The company laughed, but Elizabeth's amusement faded whenever she looked towards the entrance. Darcy alone had escaped the forfeit, and no one seemed to know where he had gone.
It was not until the musicians paused before the first waltz, a dance Lady Hortensia had insisted upon including despite several loudly expressed objections to its shocking intimacy, that the ballroom doors opened. Darcy stood upon the threshold.
His evening coat was immaculate, though a few dark strands of hair had escaped their usual order and there was a faint flush across his face, as though he had dressed in considerable haste.
He paused only long enough to greet Lady Hortensia before his gaze travelled across the room and found Elizabeth.
The relief that passed through her was followed almost immediately by annoyance that he had caused it.
He crossed the ballroom without allowing himself to be delayed, though several people attempted to speak to him. "Elizabeth," he breathed her name like a prayer as he stood before her.
"Fitzwilliam," she responded in a much more clipped tone.
"I owe you an apology, my love," he murmured. "Will you accept the waltz instead?"
She was annoyed at herself for being so softened by the endearment. She should have demanded an account before forgiving him. Instead, she looked at his face, saw something she could not define and placed her hand in his. "The waltz, then."
His fingers closed around hers. Darcy led her onto the floor as the musicians began.
The first turn brought her nearer to him than any country dance had done, one of his hands holding hers while the other rested firmly at her waist. Elizabeth was conscious of the watching company, but the room soon began to fall away beneath the movement.
"You dance the waltz very well," she said.
"I have practised."
Elizabeth looked up at him. "For this evening?"
A smile touched his mouth. "No. Georgiana insisted I learn so that she would have someone with whom to practise."
"Then I am not certain whether to be flattered."
"That may well be. But I have never before been so grateful to have obliged her."
Her teasing answer deserted her, and for several turns she was too conscious of his hand at her waist and the intensity of his gaze to speak. At last, as the music carried them towards the far end of the ballroom, she looked up at him.
"Where did you go?"
"To Pemberley."
The answer startled her so completely that she missed a step. Darcy steadied her at once, his hand tightening briefly at her waist.
"Pemberley? Today?"
"It was necessary."
She searched his face, but found no explanation there. "What could possibly have been so urgent that you rode away without telling anyone?"
He leaned close enough to her that she could feel his breath on her ear and whispered, "You."
Before she could ask another question, the music began drawing towards its conclusion.
Darcy guided her through the final turn and brought them to a halt near the centre of the ballroom.
The other couples moved away, leaving them standing together as applause rose around the room.
Elizabeth expected him to lead her from the floor.
Instead his gaze travelled briefly towards Mr Bennet, who stood beside Lady Hortensia.
Her father gave the smallest nod. A hush began at the edge of the room and spread as those nearest realised that Darcy had not moved. Even the musicians lowered their instruments.
"Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth whispered, suddenly aware that the entire company was watching them.
"I had intended to speak to you privately."
"That would still be possible," she said, looking around nervously.
"It would," he said, lowering his voice even as the room listened. "But I do not want this moment hidden away. I want everyone here to know that loving you is the greatest happiness I have ever known."
A murmur passed through the company, followed by several warm sighs from around the ballroom. Somewhere among the watching guests, a lady whispered, "Isn't it romantic?" and received an emphatic agreement in reply.
Darcy took both her hands and held them for a moment without speaking. The ballroom had fallen so quiet that Elizabeth could hear the faint rustle of silk behind her and the distant crackle of candles, yet he seemed aware of nothing beyond her.
"When I came to Chaffley Hall, I expected only to endure the week with as much patience as I could summon. I did not expect to find you."
Something in his voice caught at her heart.
"You unsettled me almost from the first moment we met. I thought you impossible and provoking. And the most beautiful woman of my acquaintance."
Elizabeth's lips trembled. "A promising beginning."
"The most promising of my life."
"I tried to resist what I felt. I told myself that I had known you only a few days, that the force of it could not be trusted and that I ought to be sensible.
But every hour I spent with you made that impossible.
Before long, the life I had been perfectly content to lead no longer seemed sufficient unless you were part of it. "
Elizabeth's eyes stung as Darcy’s fingers tightened gently around hers.
"I love you, Elizabeth. I love your mind and your courage, but more than that, I love the woman you are when no one is watching. I love the kindness you try to conceal beneath your wit. I love the way every room becomes brighter simply because you have entered it."
The words left her unable to speak. She had imagined declarations in the foolish privacy of the night, but none had sounded like this. None had made her heart feel it might burst with happiness.
Darcy released one of her hands and reached inside his coat. "I went to Pemberley today because there was something there I wished you to have."
When he opened his palm, a ring rested against his skin. A deep blue stone set within a circle of small diamonds. "It belonged to my mother."
Elizabeth looked from the ring to his face and understood at last why he had left her on the lawn, why he had ridden away without explanation and why her father had seemed so knowing during their dance.
"I spoke to your father early this morning," Darcy continued. "He gave me his permission to ask you, though he warned me that your answer would remain entirely your own."
"Very sensible of him," Elizabeth said.
Mr Bennet's voice came warmly from the edge of the floor. "I have learned not to make promises on Lizzy's behalf."
The laughter which followed was gentle, but Elizabeth scarcely heard it.
Darcy was still looking at her, and she saw then that beneath all his certainty, he was afraid.
He lowered himself onto one knee and a collective sigh passed through the ballroom.
Elizabeth's breath caught, and her fingers closed around his in an attempt to steady them both.
"Elizabeth Bennet," he said, "I came here believing my life was already decided.
You have shown me how empty that life would be without you in it.
I do not wish to return to Pemberley alone and remember this week as the brief time in which I was happiest. I want you beside me for every day that follows. "
His voice softened. "Will you marry me?"
For once, Elizabeth had no ready reply. She could only look down at him, at the proud and private man who had crossed Derbyshire for his mother's ring and now knelt before an entire ballroom with nothing hidden.
"Yes," she said.
The word was soft, and for one suspended moment Darcy did not move.
Elizabeth smiled through the tears gathering in her eyes and tightened her hand around his. "Yes, Fitzwilliam. I will marry you."
The change in his face was almost more than she could bear.
Relief broke through first, followed by such happiness that he looked younger and entirely unguarded.
He rose, still holding her hand, and slipped the ring onto her finger.
It fitted perfectly. Darcy looked at it only briefly before raising her hand to his lips.
The room erupted around them. Jane reached Elizabeth first and embraced her tightly, laughing and crying at once, while Colonel Fitzwilliam clasped Darcy by the shoulder with enough force to rumple his immaculate coat.
Congratulations came from every direction, and somewhere beyond them Thomas Hadley began calling for champagne.
Lady Hortensia struck her cane against the floor until the company quieted sufficiently for her to be heard. Her eyes shone as she looked from Elizabeth to Darcy. "Another match for Chaffley Hall," she declared. "Mr Pritchard, I trust you are keeping count."
Mr Pritchard opened the Challenge ledger upon the table before him. "I never stopped, my lady."