A maid had been sent to relieve Jane and release her from the care of the comatose Georgiana. Invitations were sent and arrangements were made to for the dance. It was to be held on the Friday of the following week. The day before Elizabeth and Jane were set to sail for home. Elizabeth could hardly decide which of those events she wanted more to be over. Her imaginings of how her return would be greeted, by her mother especially, were not at all happy thoughts.
Lydia and Kitty would crow from morning till night. They could be relied upon to squeeze every last drop of humiliation from the wreck of Elizabeth’s misjudgment. And, of course, they would be right. But Elizabeth dreaded much more the wails and moans from her mother and her desperate pleas and cries of woe. Mama was able to turn quite indifferent or even perfectly good news into fresh barbs of her endless martyrdom.
“Lizzy!” She even admonished herself aloud. Never before had she thought so harshly of her mother. How low a depth could her spirit sunk to that she could judge so coldly? Was it an effect of being trapped in the dark limbo here? She felt that she was living in the greatest comfort in the world under the most dreadfully obvious false pretenses.
Evenings at the dinner table now had nightmarish qualities for Elizabeth, as if she were no longer fully present. Colonel Fitzwilliam, though his manner toward her was unfailingly kindly, she had a sense that she was somehow letting him down. Mr. Bingley was kindness itself and endlessly cheerful, but Elizabeth thought she detected some distancing, a detachment in the way that he looked at her.
Miss Caroline’s attitude toward Elizabeth changed and not for the better. Whenever Elizabeth spoke, Miss Bingley’s eyebrows would drift slightly up, as though an artless child had been admitted into the company. Her responses were delivered on a tone of voice that felt like she was doing Elizabeth the greatest favor by replying.
Presiding with the power of a monarch over all he surveyed, Mr. Darcy was, of course, as proud, arrogant and sure of himself as always.
Even Jane, when Elizabeth made the long walk to visit her, would sometimes greet her oddly. More than once when Elizabeth stepped into Georgiana’s room, Jane’s face lifted, shining and her attitude was as if she was about to leap from her chair. But, seeing Elizabeth, she settled back into the seat. It was all too disheartening.
Elizabeth buried herself away in books for as much of the days as she possibly could.
She knew that she needed to make preparations for the dance. Since she was to depart this garden of Eden, she must at least leave some favorable impression on the inhabitants. Something to be remembered that she could take away and keep with some sensation of pride.
Each time she tried to think about what dress to wear and with what pins and jewels, how to wear her hair, it took her down the dark path that led her to consider her awful predicament.
In the days before the dance, the dance for which Darcy could see no point or purpose, Miss Caroline Bingley prowled the house. Ever since the incident with the letter, she had been more and more determined, seeking him out, looking for chances to catch or corner him.
Evading her became more and more trying with each hour. When he was passing through the hallway he saw her, plainly casting about and looking for him. He slipped quietly into the library but, before he could get the door fully closed, she had slid in there with him.
Her cloying perfume filled his head. His tone could not have been more flat, nor his meaning more clear when he said, “How delightful to see you.” Quickly he went on, “I hear the most ridiculous things. Some young ladies, I understand, are now allowing themselves to be too informal and putting themselves at great risk in their attempts to secure marriage proposals. I heard it said that there were young ladies foolish enough to risk all. That they would engineer themselves into a room with a man unchaperoned, only to then claim that they have been compromised in a brief moments’ solitude with their chosen quarry.”
Before she could respond, he said, “Yet it would so often be a trivial thing to show from witnesses when a young lady had made repeated attempts to do that very thing. That she had been seen trying to do it. Quite clearly on purpose. What value would her reputation have then? She would lose all society. A perilous gamble indeed. You would scarcely believe that anyone could be so foolish.”
Elizabeth was trying to collect her thoughts in the form of meditation she knew the best and practiced the most. Nuzzled deep into her habitual nook in the library, curled up by a little table in a corner with a pile of books gathered around her. Tucking herself away in the cozy isolation of the huge chair, she lost herself in reading. When she looked up she realized that the sun had moved fully from one side of the house to the other. Elizabeth became aware that people had entered the library. She knew it when quiet footsteps shuffled toward her corner.
Whoever it was, she did not want to be disturbed and she hoped they would leave soon without discovering her.
The low, husky tones of Caroline Bingley’s purring voice made her stiffen. She was precisely the last person Elizabeth wanted to have here, disturbing her reading and agitating her already anxious state of mind. That would have exactly the opposite effect to that she wished in closeting herself here. Elizabeth resolved to stay quiet and return to her reading. If she were discovered she would say only that she was engrossed in her book. Then, she hoped, Caroline Bingley and whoever she was with would at least go away and leave her in peace.
She was determined to return to her pages and not listen to Miss Bingley’s conversation.
“Think of the advantages, Darcy. Have you never allowed yourself to imagine all of the fun that we could have, you and I. Hmm? Are you not curious to know what would become of the most formidably handsome man in the state if he were to give himself to the most attractive and adventurous woman? What could happen, what joys could we discover, you and I, Darcy?”
Elizabeth almost gasped. Now she feared to be discovered. If she were, Miss Bingley would be sure to accuse Elizabeth of spying on her. She wished she were somewhere else. She wished most desperately to be anywhere else. If she made a sound now, the consequences would be unbearable.
“Miss Bingley, you must excuse me.”
“Think about it, Darcy. Just let yourself think about it.” Elizabeth imagined she could hear Caroline Bingley’s splendid eyebrow arch. The loud clack of Darcy’s boots stormed from the room and heavy the door slammed behind him.
Elizabeth hardly dared breathe as she heard Miss Bingley’s heels shuffle and scuff on the wood floor. then her footsteps padded away to the door but she stopped before she opened it.
Elizabeth heard her pause and say, “Do I hear a mouse in here?” and her laugh snapped and rattled as she left.
23
On the evening of the dance, Elizabeth could hardly feel less like any kind of a celebration and the thought of sailing the next day made her feel a sense of the seasickness that so tortured her sister. Trying on and fitting her favorite dress, her most delightful pieces of sparkle, even the afternoon spent in her bedroom suite with Jane, attending to each others’ hair and finishing, had hardly raised her spirits. She laughed at times, they both did, and they teased each other, but in spite of all their finery, it felt more as if they were dressing for a wake than for a ball.
A selection of fans, gloves, and small tiaras had been placed on the dressing table in the room with a note from Mr. Darcy to say they should make whatever use they would like of them.
Elizabeth exclaimed, “Does he think we have none of the necessities for a ball?”
Jane said, “I am sure he is only trying to be kind, Lizzy.”
All of the day, Elizabeth was distracted by the feeling that there was something Jane had not told her. Until recently, they kept nothing from one another. Now it seemed as though they kept everything to themselves. She knew that she was not blameless herself by any means. There were thoughts and feelings about Mr. Darcy that she had not expressed to Jane. It was in part because she did not want to be brought to face them
herself but still, it felt like another stone between them.
As they prepared to leave the room and find their way to the ballroom, Jane took both of her hands, “I have to tell you, sister. I don’t know it for certain, but I feel it and I couldn’t bear keeping it from you,” her face was alight. “I think Mr. Bingley is going to propose to me.”
Elizabeth looked at her with concern. Mr. Bingley’s attachment to her had been strong, for certain, but he was clearly a man of light and changeable intentions. Elizabeth worried that Jane had spent too much time in a silent room with only her thoughts and a girl in a coma.
She squeezed Jane’s hands back, “I hope you’re right, Jane. I really do.”
As they walked together down the grand staircase, smart, stylish people in silks and fine cottons, glittering with emeralds, rubies, and diamonds, entered through the main doorway. Elegantly, the splendid lines of couples and groups threaded across the great hall. Bright, shining faces turned up to see the sisters. Eyes sparkled with curiosity, and Elizabeth felt as though every part of her life was being systematically pulverized and crushed to cinders and dust. Could those sleek, comfortably wealthy folk see how she was collapsing from the inside?
She and Jane joined the perfumed and powdered flow and followed the lines of guests through a wide paneled hallway into a part of the house Elizabeth had never seen. She was distracted with a fear for how her sister was going to cope with the long, arduous sea voyage ahead.
The size and splendor of the ballroom made her forget it all. She was greeted and announced by a liveried footman and then, she and Jane stepped through a great arch of palm leaves into an opulence that dazzled her. Columns and arches all around the room were hung with garlands of flowers and feathers from ostriches and peacocks.
It seemed impossible to Elizabeth that the house where she had been living for more than a week could have such a palatial ballroom that she had never even seen. A bright hubbub of clinking glass and chatter trickled through the music of a small orchestra on a raised platform at the far end of the room.
The music was quite modern and fully fifty couples lined up for the opening Polonaise, which they performed with such seriousness, even Elizabeth felt tingles of delight. Gazing around at gold columns and a painted ceiling, she asked Colonel Fitzwilliam, “How big is this house?”
“The house itself has sixty-four bedroom suites, six large dining rooms, a large and a small ballroom, a music room, and a small concert hall, games rooms, a long picture gallery, conservatories, stabling for two hundred horses and forty carriages, and a chapel. The grounds cover four thousand acres of forest and a thousand acres of farmland.” He smiled, quizzically, “Is that the sort of thing you want to know?”
“Really, Colonel, I wasn’t meaning to size the place up for a purchase. I was astonished that there could be a room like this in the house where I have been staying while I had not the slightest knowledge of it.”
“It is a substantial house,” he said, “There are very few to rival it in the whole country.”
Then she asked him, “You said there are two ballrooms, one large and one small.”
“That’s right, I did.”
“If it’s not too silly a question, which is this?”
“Oh, this is the large ballroom.”
“I am relieved to hear it.”
Staff in livery wove through the company bearing trays of champagne, punch, and cordials aloft.
Mr. Bingley partnered with Jane for more than two sets of dances and Elizabeth lost track of them both for some time.
She was looking about for them when Miss Bingley passed by. “I fear that my brother could be making an awful misjudgment, Miss Bennet. I wonder if you could restrain your sister, as he is most vulnerable to being exploited by a wily female.”
“There is nothing whatever for which my sister should be reproached, Miss Bingley. If we were men, I would invite you to step outside for that remark.”
Miss Bingley’s nose lifted. “Ah, well. You’ll wish you’d taken my advice when you’re sailing all that way back to Boston on your own.” With that, she turned and breezed away.
Elizabeth was still fuming when Mr. Darcy approached her.
“Since it seems we will have no more opportunity, I hope that you will favor me with at least a few dances.”
Her voice came out more sternly than she intended. “I have not the least intention of dancing, I assure you.”
“Then if you do not change your mind, you will disappoint me most terribly.”
“Would you press me, sir?” but before he replied she relented. “No, I must own, whatever else may have passed between us, truly you have been a considerate and generous host to me. If it is your wish to endure a dance with me then it will be my pleasure to grant it.” She was sure he only wanted to dance with her in order to further humiliate her but she simply would not allow him to make her show ill grace or poor manners.
As they made turns he said, “Your dancing will be a loss to Pemberley. And we never did have the pleasure of hearing you play on the piano.”
“I hope you do not think I might play with this company of people in attendance. There must be fully two hundred people here. Missing my skills on the piano will be no loss for them, I can assure you. It would not be too great a loss for you either, Mr. Darcy.”
“There is nothing of you that will not be a loss to Pemberley, Miss Bennet.”
“You tease, Mr. Darcy, but I do not dislike it. Not too much at any rate. My sister and I tease one another all the time. I shall be glad to see more of her and have her tease me all the way back to Boston.”
Mr. Darcy danced exceedingly well and Elizabeth thought she might compliment him on it. She decided though that his own good opinion of his art on the dance floor, as with everything else, would probably be sufficient to sustain him.
He asked her, “Are you so confident that you will have her company on that arduous voyage?”
“Why would you doubt it?”
“Have you not seen how agreeable she and Mr. Bingley are finding each others’ company?”
“I thought it was your intention to keep them apart, Mr. Darcy. I wonder that you can waste your time on the floor with me when you could be setting yourself in between them.”
His eyes hardened. “Did you really think that was my intent? That I simply wished to frustrate your sister and one of my dearest friends?”
“I must confess, Mr. Darcy, I thought exactly that. Yes.”
“I may have acted wrongly in that regard, Miss Bennet, and I accept it, but I must have you know that what I did was purely for what I believed to be the best interests of both parties.”
“How very surprising and confusing, Mr. Darcy. I had assumed your actions were guided only by your own needs and wishes.”
“My very good friend Mr. Bingley has been all too easy with his affection to his cost, more than once. With nothing but the most innocent of intentions on his part, he has believed the slightest and idlest of compliments or attentions from young ladies to be entirely sincere. He has had his tender heart sorely hurt by a young lady with whom he has barely had a few minutes of conversation. He takes it all too hard. I thought that when he was so very fixated upon the lovely eyes of your sister, that he was to be dashed again. I saw only the mildest response on her part.”
“And you thought yourself well enough able to judge both of their feelings from what you saw on the outside?”
Without losing his step for a beat, his face paused as he looked at her. “Of course.”
“Your confidence could move mountains, Mr. Darcy, if only it were well-founded.”
“On this occasion, it plainly was not. I believe that I misjudged the depth and sincerity of feelings on both of their parts.”
“You say that you were mistaken, Mr. Darcy? I am surprised the music and dancing are sufficient to mask the movement of the earth shaking.”
“And yet, Miss Bennet, you describe me as being vexing.”
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“Perhaps we are a better match than you thought.”
“That seems very unlikely, Miss Bennet.”
“As does anything and everything that you do not presently know or believe, Mr. Darcy.”
“Is that not how judgment works generally?”
“Not everybody feels the need for such certainty in their own thought or belief.”
In spite of the apparent animation in his words, his voice remained gentle. “Have I not just told you that I have misjudged both of them? I am not sorry or ashamed to have you know it.”
“You would have me believe you a changed man, Mr. Darcy.”
“I would have you believe me a misjudged man, Miss Bennet.”
“Our dance is coming to an end.”
“It is one I would have prolonged indefinitely, Miss Bennet. And I hope you will consent to allow me another before the evening is done.”
“Sir, you must not ask me to stand up with you again while we are still on the floor.”
As they came to the finishing bow, he said, “I must not. You are quite right, of course. And yet, I do.”
“Sir, you press me again.”
“I would press you and press you, Miss Bennet.”
As she returned to her seat she saw no company, no sister and no friend. She would have to sit with her fan and wait. At least there was no sign of Miss Bingley who must be circling somewhere in search of prey, she felt sure.
Seeing no sign of her sister nor of Mr. Bingley, or the colonel, Elizabeth felt exposed and alone. She was too anxious to sit on the side of the room with no company or ally and she was too uncomfortable to simply await whoever would come to keep her company. All these people and not a soul in sight she knew.
24
Elizabeth made a discreet withdrawal for the refuge of the powder room. Exiting the ballroom by the nearest doorway, she took two turns and was lost. She made her way uncertainly down a long, dark gallery. then she heard a sound to chill her bones from within, the distinct and abrasive laugh of Miss Caroline Bingley. Elizabeth froze and she looked around, peering hard into the shadows of the gallery.
Urgently, Darcy Page 10
