Why would Georgiana leap to the defense of Miss Bennet with such vigor? She’d said the lady was easy to confide in, perhaps they’d had some sort of sisterly talk about something or other.
Darcy felt a wave of guilt, as he often did when considering that Georgiana ought to have female companionship beyond that which could be employed. He could not marry the first lady who presented herself to provide her with it, but he really ought to think about marriage more seriously than he had done so far.
He leaned back and searched his mind through the ladies of his acquaintance in London. Until now, he had scrutinized them through a lens of rank, assuming that whichever one he selected would be welcomed by Georgiana. Would they, though?
Darcy closed his eyes for some minutes, then he opened them and sat up. It dawned on him that he could not imagine how any of these ladies would get on with Georgiana because he could not imagine anything past a wedding. All along, he had been satisfied to think of binding himself to Lady so and so, whoever she might be, without a thought as to what might come after. How should they live? What would they talk about?
He realized that the only example of a marriage he’d ever viewed up close were his own mother and father. They had been painstakingly polite to each other, but he did not recall hearing them discuss anything more personal than the weather. His father was often in London while his mother stayed on at Pemberley. It had seemed so usual, but now that he really examined it, it was as if his two parents were almost strangers.
They had done their duty, though.
Darcy could not stop his mind wandering back to Miss Bennet. She was not Lady so and so, but she was lively and clever and altogether interesting. It was not difficult to imagine her on that ridiculous horse, galloping down the paths of Pemberley. He supposed his dinners would be filled with interesting conversations and wit. She certainly would be kind to Georgiana—he could not imagine she would be anything else to his sister. And then, of course, she was very pretty.
He could not. He would not.
Of course, he would not. Though, would it be so terrible to enjoy her company while he remained in the neighborhood? Certainly, there was no harm in it as long as he did not lead her to believe he meant something that he did not. One might enjoy a lady’s company innocently, might they not? And when was he likely to meet another lady so interesting?
He really did not see the harm in it. Once he’d returned to London, he’d seriously determine what he ought to do regarding marriage. He’d do something sensible. When he returned to London.
The trip to Netherfield was made comfortably and in good time, as Mr. Quinn had returned the Bennets’ carriage for their use. They were escorted by Mr. Bennet, Mr. Collins, and three of the men who were part of the guard on the house. As they trotted down the lanes, Elizabeth found herself peering out the window, searching for any sign of Warpole.
Rather than Warpole, her gaze continually fell upon Mr. Collins, who was both awkward on a horse and determined to keep abreast of her window. If she rode in such a fashion, she did not think she would wish anybody to view it. Elizabeth suppressed a smile when she thought of what Mercury might do, finding such a person on his back. She could not be certain of the exact unfolding of events, only sure that such a person would not remain on Mercury’s back for long.
Netherfield was lit up, outside and in. Torches illuminated the long line of carriages discharging their revelers. Elizabeth could not see any sign of the guards, though she was certain they were there, blended into the darkness beyond the flames.
The ballroom was large, with paneled wood walls polished and shining and a marble inlay floor. A hundred good wax candles burned in sconces. Musicians took up one end of the room and Elizabeth recognized them as the same that usually played at the assemblies. She supposed her mother had been successful in her press-gang efforts.
Elizabeth had been handed a dance card and Mr. Collins had summarily taken it and scribbled his name on the first. She had seen him scan the rest of it and greatly feared he might take the dance before supper, thereby relegating her to dining with him. This, she would not countenance. She snatched the card back in a most un-ladylike fashion.
“We must be careful, Mr. Collins,” she said. “There are more gentlemen than ladies here, as there are so many officers camped in the neighborhood just now. We should not like them to miss the enjoyment of the evening.”
When Mr. Collins appeared ready to counter this idea, she stared him down and said, “Not every man finds himself fit to be a soldier, we must honor those that do.”
Having spotted Charlotte, Elizabeth hurried away, determined that she would not spend one extra moment with the bumbling clergyman.
“Hello, my friend,” she said to Charlotte. “I hold something very terrible in my hand, though you may find it amusing as it does not involve yourself.”
“The only thing you hold in your hand is your dance card,” Charlotte said. “I cannot believe there is anything so terrible on it.”
“There you would be wrong,” Elizabeth said, showing it to her. “That is the mark of our relative and heir to Longbourn, come to stay. He is awful.”
“Now Lizzy,” Charlotte scolded, “I am certain you exaggerate, as you so often like to do.”
Elizabeth glanced in Mr. Collins’ direction. Mr. Collins had approached Mr. Darcy and was talking to him. Though Mr. Collins was tall, Mr. Darcy was taller and gazed over the clergyman’s head as if Mr. Collins were a gnat come to annoy him.
“He is just there, Charlotte,” Elizabeth said. “He has introduced himself to Mr. Darcy, though he had ought to wait for the honor to come to him. I suspect he has realized that the honor would never come and decided to take matters into his own hands. He is no doubt explaining to Mr. Darcy that his patroness is Lady Catherine de Bourgh, a lady with an unnatural interest in his closets, and who is also Mr. Darcy’s aunt.”
Charlotte peered in the direction. Mr. Collins was just now standing on his toes and leaning back his head in an effort to catch Mr. Darcy’s eye. Leaning back a tad too far, he fell to the floor like an old tree encountering a strong wind. Mr. Darcy strode away as Mr. Collins rolled to his side and scrambled back up.
“Dear me,” Charlotte said softly.
“And so you see I do not exaggerate after all,” Elizabeth said. “I shall be dragged across the ballroom while hearing more of Lady Catherine’s accomplishments.”
“I am afraid you will not enjoy yourself, and for that I am sorry,” Charlotte said.
“Never mind,” Elizabeth said. “It is only once dance and afterward I shall flee Mr. Collins like a rabbit across a field. What I should like to know, though,” she said, leaning over Charlotte’s card, “is who do you open the ball with?”
Charlotte blushed and held her card open.
“Ah hah!” Elizabeth said. “Just as I expected. Our Mr. Quinn did not let the grass grow under his feet.”
“Well,” Charlotte stammered, “I did promise that I would show him the steps.”
“So you did,” Elizabeth said. “I am certain you will be a marvelous instructress. But on a serious note, Charlotte, I believe he has intentions toward you. Do not you think so?”
“I am sure I do not know,” Charlotte said. “Nothing of the sort has been said.”
“But something of the sort will be said,” Elizabeth said. “I really do think so. And, I would wish to know your mind. He would be an unusual choice.”
Charlotte did not answer.
“I know ladies are not meant to reveal their feelings until something is absolutely said,” Elizabeth continued, “none of us will soon forget Miss Renaldson. Though surely you may be safe in confiding to your very best friend in all the world.”
Charlotte was silent for a moment and appeared very thoughtful. She said, “It is true, Lizzy, that I would not confide in anybody but you. Still, I must be careful of my feelings as nothing has been said. If something were said, I would view it kindly. I know he does seem an un
usual choice to your eyes, but my eyes see it something different.”
“But Charlotte,” Elizabeth said, “you would not tie yourself to somebody for fear of…a fear of—”
“A fear of being a spinster?” Charlotte said. “I admit I have considered such a thing in the past. Though, were anything to be said to me by the person in question, that would not be my reason. He is interesting and gallant. He appears to admire me, and I feel we would get on very well. And what a mind, Lizzy! As well, I like being the scribe. Think what an interesting life I might have.”
“You might assist in investigations?” Elizabeth asked, not having considered this interesting aspect of Mr. Quinn’s household.
“Perhaps,” Charlotte said. “Or if not assist, then at least I should hear of them over dinner. And Lizzy, he is a born gentleman. He is the younger son of a landowner in Sussex. Of course, he did not go the usual route of military or clergy, but his birth remains the same for all that.”
Elizabeth smiled. “And for all those reasons, you would be able to overlook the—”
“The waistcoats,” Charlotte said, laughing.
“Just so,” Elizabeth said, her mind greatly relieved. It was true that Mr. Quinn would be a surprising choice. However, it was also true that she had never known her friend to admire a gentleman so much. Now, she could only hope that her speculations about the budding romance were correct.
“Miss Bennet.”
Mr. Darcy’s voice came from behind her and nearly made her jump. Elizabeth turned.
“May I have the first?” he asked.
“Oh!” Elizabeth said, a stutter in her voice. “I am sorry, Mr. Darcy, I am already engaged.”
He looked down at her card and she handed it to him. Mr. Darcy scrutinized it and appeared disapproving of the name he saw there. She could not fault him for it, she was rather disapproving of it herself.
“Perhaps another, then?” he said.
Elizabeth nodded and Mr. Darcy filled in the dance before supper. Then he filled in the last. Elizabeth was surprised by it. Certainly, she had assumed that Mr. Darcy would ask for a dance, he had been a guest in her house and it would have been terribly rude to ignore her. However, there was no reason he should take two and especially no reason to take the one before supper.
He bowed and strode off.
“Perhaps you have a suitor of your own, Lizzy,” Charlotte said.
“There you are mistaken,” Elizabeth said. “He is handsome and disapproving and at times unaccountable, but he is not a suitor.”
Darcy paced the length of the ballroom. He’d finally approached Miss Bennet, only to find that buffoon on her card. Why on earth was Lady Catherine’s clergyman staying at the Bennets’ house? He supposed the man had told him why when he’d so rudely approached him, but he’d not listened to a word of it. Darcy had been determined to walk away from him before the man had so conveniently fallen on the floor and provided him with the opportunity.
He should not mind that the man was on Miss Bennet’s card, and yet he did mind it. In truth, he perhaps minded too much. It was as if allowing himself to think of Miss Bennet at all had now taken his thoughts too far. Perhaps the idea that he might enjoy her company with no harm done had been a wrong one. It might show itself to be a dangerous path.
Darcy kept coming back round to the idea that he would be indulging his own feelings were he to pursue Miss Bennet. And, that was what disturbed him. When had these feelings arrived? When had the idea of a pursuit even presented itself? It had not even seemed a question a day ago.
He knew he often needed to sit with only his own company, usually in his dressing room, to discover something that preyed on his mind. Had Miss Bennet been there all along? If that were true, what on earth was he to do about it?
Georgiana approached and Darcy saw that she looked in better spirits than she had when she’d left him in the small room off the drawing room. “Well, brother,” she said.
“Though you are cryptic,” Darcy said, “I understand your meaning. I will take Miss Bennet into supper so that you may be pleased. Let that be an end to it.”
Georgiana nodded, and did appear very pleased with herself.
Dancing with Mr. Collins had been every bit as mortifying as Elizabeth had speculated it would be. His feet did not appear to take any instructions from his head whatsoever. As if her trod-on toes were not enough, he would discuss his momentous conversation with Mr. Darcy.
Mr. Darcy had been pleased to make the connection. Mr. Collins had been pleased to inform Mr. Darcy that Lady Catherine’s health was excellent. When Mr. Collins returned to Rosings, he would be pleased to inform Lady Catherine that Mr. Darcy’s health was excellent also.
Elizabeth had responded, “How fortunate that everybody is pleased and in good health.”
A brighter man might have understood the barb, but Mr. Collins only began his recitation again, presuming it to be of such interest to her that she must wish to hear it twice.
Elizabeth’s only consolation during this trial was to note that other couples got on so much better than she did herself. Thanks to Charlotte’s tutelage, Mr. Quinn learned the steps in a thrice and had a pleasing, spirited manner of dancing. Mr. Bingley secured Jane for the first, and Elizabeth was certain, based on a charming amount of blushing and stammering, that he was as attached to her as ever. Miss Darcy was paired with a young officer and danced with all the grace and liveliness of youth. Even Lydia and Kitty comported themselves admirably, though Elizabeth did not expect that to hold to the end of the evening, as it never did.
Mr. Darcy danced with a lady that Elizabeth knew well—Miss Jardyce. She was not particular friends with the lady, both she and Jane finding her always to be posing as excessively restrained and demur and generally in a state of shock. At the last assembly, Elizabeth had told Sir William the story of Paw-paw cutting her leg on a protruding nail in the barn and Doctor Kellerman’s kind treatment of her, though his usual clients were not dogs. Miss Jarndyce had staggered at the mention of a female leg, though it belonged to a dog. It was as if she did not own two of those appendages herself.
Elizabeth supposed Mr. Darcy would like her very much, as Miss Jardyce had little to say in the way of thinking and would not for the world ride without a groom. Miss Jardyce might be relied upon to faint at the suggestion of it.
She realized, watching them move gracefully through the steps, that she liked Miss Jardyce even less than she had previously thought.
Elizabeth had sworn to Charlotte that when she was released from Mr. Collins at the conclusion of the dance, she would fly away from him like a rabbit across a field. As the musicians put down their bows, she left him with such rapidity that she did not believe even the fastest hare could have overtaken her.
From there, the ball became far more enjoyable. Officers had filled her card and she even danced with Mr. Bingley. Poor Mr. Bingley no doubt wished to dance each set with Jane, but as he could not do so, the lady’s sister must suffice. Elizabeth thought it must be similar to dancing with Jane, as Mr. Bingley only spoke of Jane. Elizabeth had been delighted to agree that her sister looked exceedingly well three times.
As the dance with Mr. Darcy approached, Elizabeth felt a flutter within her. She began to get the uncomfortable idea that she admired Mr. Darcy, while also not admiring him. She still stood firm in her disapproval of his disapproval of how she went about things. And yet, somehow, she looked forward to the dance with anticipation.
Perhaps it was viewing him in the current circumstances. Prior, she had mainly encountered him in the war room, and she thought even he would admit that solving crimes was not his particular talent. Here, he was in his element. He exuded the confidence of one who has traveled in sophisticated London circles. The officers’ uniforms could not overtake the elegance of his dress. He was an excellent dancer, as she knew he would be. He comported himself with grace and she noticed that he paid attentions in a rigorously polite fashion, even stopping to talk with Mrs. B
ennet. He was everything Mr. Collins was not. And then he was so very handsome, there really was no getting around that fact.
Elizabeth had grew more agitated as the time wore on. Soon, she became agitated about her agitation. It was ridiculous! Still, there she was. She was accustomed to her nerves being reliable. She was not a lady who swooned, she was a lady who would look upon a fence with a cool eye and urge her horse forward. Why those reliable nerves should decide to misbehave now, she could not fathom.
Elizabeth paused. She was not in the habit of lying to herself. She could fathom why her nerves were so unruly. Each time she glanced toward Mr. Darcy she fathomed it. How could this have happened to her? She and Jane had sworn, after Miss Renaldson’s disaster, that they would never be caught out so. That poor lady had become convinced that Mr. Calway pursued her and a proposal was imminent. Worse, Miss Renaldson had spoken to Mrs. Menson about it. That inveterate gossip had made it the talk of Meryton. In truth, a proposal had seemed likely, as Mr. Calway had often taken two dances with Miss Renaldson at an assembly and had seemed to pay her particular attention. But then he had proposed to Miss Atglen! Miss Renaldson had misread the signs and allowed herself to presume what had not been pronounced.
Her own situation was even worse! Mr. Darcy had not hinted at anything. He would not hint at anything because there was nothing to hint at. Why should she like him? How could she possibly like a man who did not like her?
Her consolation was that nobody knew of it. Nobody would ever know, she would make certain of that. She refused to go round pitied like Miss Renaldson. In truth, she would be pitied more than Miss Renaldson. Everybody agreed that Mr. Calway had at least perhaps hinted.
In any case, Mr. Darcy would not be long in the neighborhood. She was confident that, once he was gone, she would wake up one day and realize what a silly idea the whole thing was.
The Lady's Jewels Page 14
