Chapter 23
The day of the Netherfield Ball began with the winter sun streaming into the Longbourn breakfast room.
The room had finally been returned to its original function, having spent the majority of the last two weeks as a dance hall, where Mr Collins had learned, not only Morgiana’s Dance but also La Boulangerie and Les Deux Amis being the most popular cotillions.
His dance education was perhaps not extensive, but it was judged that these dances were sufficient for him to attend his first ball.
Mr Bennet and Mr Collins stood at the foot of the stairs awaiting the Bennet ladies' appearance.
The carriage was standing ready to transport the party to Netherfield.
Mrs Bennet appeared first, her burgundy gown and cap most becoming with her colouring.
Jane and Elizabeth appeared together with linked arms as they descended, their ivory gowns similar, but cut to suit their figures.
Mary was the last to appear, her dress in pure white neither enhanced nor detracted from her looks.
Lydia and Kitty remained upstairs watching their elder sisters descend.
“May I compliment all my lovely cousins,” Mr Collins said in his quiet and serious voice, his hands behind his back, and they all expressed their thanks for his kind words.
“If we are quite ready,” Mr Bennet said, pointing a hand towards the exit and the waiting carriage.
“There is only one other matter,” Jane said, and reached into the drawer at the table in the vestibule, drawing out a small, wrapped package. “We all, I, Elizabeth, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia, wished to give you a gift, cousin,” she said, handing the package to Mr Collins.
“For me?” he questioned as he accepted the gift into his hands. His eyes were bright with wonder as he slowly began to unwrap the gift.
“In honour of your first ball,” Elizabeth explained as the gift was revealed, a pristine pair of gentlemen’s white dress gloves.
“Such kindness, such thoughtfulness,” Mr Collins said. “I surely do not deserve such a gift,” he said, but he was pulling off the old, almost grey gloves which were an old pair belonging to their father as he uttered these words.
“My daughters think you deserve them,” Mr Bennet said with a smile, “and I, for one, cannot help but agree with them.”
Mr Collins looked at all his young cousins, including throwing his eyes up the stairway to acknowledge Kitty and Lydia. “Thank you, thank you all,” he said, and there were tears in his eyes.
“Away with us,” Mr Bennet said, drawing an end to the tableau.
The party fit comfortably in the Bennet carriage, Mr Collins on one side of Mr Bennet and Mrs Bennet on his other, leaving the other side of the carriage free for Jane, Elizabeth, and Mary.
They arrived at Netherfield in good time, and the lights festooning the entrance welcomed them, the soft sounds of music and chatter escaping into the grounds.
Mr Bingley, Miss Bingley, the Hursts, and Mr Darcy greeted them on their entrance. Mr Bennet made the introductions to Mr Darcy and the Hursts. Mr Darcy made a strange face on hearing Mr Collins’ name but said nothing which would explain his reaction.
Mr Bingley claimed Jane for the first dance, and John Lucas, the younger brother of Elizabeth’s closest friend, claimed Elizabeth for the same set.
Mr Darcy led a smug-looking Miss Bingley, who was attired in a burnt orange monstrosity, to the floor.
Elizabeth assumed it was the height of fashion in London, although Lydia had not mentioned such a colour being en vogue, and she was usually the local authority on all things fashion.
As Elizabeth took her place for the set, she was most gratified to see her cousin lead Mary onto the dance floor for Morgiana’s Dance, and when they performed the cross, she was happy to see Mr Collins’ smile.
The early part of the evening went by in a flash, with both Jane and Elizabeth stepping out with their cousin.
Then Mr Darcy requested a set and Elizabeth consented, unaware that she had agreed to the supper set.
She only became aware of this when he led her to the floor, and she saw Jane and Mr Bingley at the other side of her.
She frowned and looked around, and spotted Miss Bingley looking at her, her face twisted in a look Elizabeth was at first unable to interpret.
It was only after the music began that she comprehended that this was the supper set, and the look had been one of resentment.
Elizabeth could only suppose that Mr Darcy chose her as his supper partner to stop Miss Bingley from making a claim of courtship should he dance with her for both the first dance and supper set, as Mr Bingley had with the smiling Jane.
“Lieutenant Wickham has the most engaging manner,” Elizabeth said to her companion as the second course was served. “I think I understood that you are acquainted with him?” Mr Darcy owed that they were known to each other but did not comment on his manners.
“We have met him five or more times since he has come into the neighbourhood, and he has impressed most of the families with his open and interested conversation,” Elizabeth said, trying to draw Mr Darcy into revealing something of their connection.
“‘Open’,” Mr Darcy repeated, and then said the same word again. “‘Open’ is the very last word I would use to describe Mr Wickham. “He may present himself as open and honest, but I can assure you that he is anything but.”
Elizabeth gasped at this proclamation and asked how he could make such an allegation.
“I have known George Wickham since we were both young boys. He grew up on my family’s estate in Derbyshire, and he was educated with me by my tutors, at my father’s expense.
He was later provided an education at Oxford, which my father, who was his godfather, provided, but his profligate ways meant that he left in disgrace before his education was complete.
And I can happily say that my father then cut all ties with him, and I followed his example and did likewise.
The next course arriving precluded the opportunity to ask any questions, and Mr Darcy then chose to converse with Mrs Long, who was seated to the other side of him, thereby preventing the reopening of the topic.
Elizabeth left the supper with more questions about that man than she had had when she had sat down.
The carriage ride home was a happy one. Jane was smiling the smile of a woman in love, who was in expectation of a visit from Mr Bingley to her father in the morning.
Mary had been asked to dance many times after her opening with Mr Collins, and she appeared to have enjoyed the attention.
Mr Collins kept looking at his gloves with a smile on his usually severe face.
Elizabeth was also well pleased with the evening, even with the vexing questions the ever-more vexing Mr Darcy had left her with, and her parents also looked pleased.