by Jann Rowland
The instant the Darcy party entered, there was a brief lull in the conversation, as if everyone in the room had stopped speaking at that precise moment. Then the mass of humanity seemed to part before him, like the Red Sea parting at Moses’s command. And there, at the other end of the room, stood Miss Elizabeth, speaking with someone of her party—her aunt, with whom Darcy had exchanged many conversations.
Then she turned, and Darcy saw her for the first time that night.
Chapter XX
Darcy was transfixed. The vision who stood before him on the far side of the room was beautiful beyond any earthly notion of beauty. The ivory dress she wore seemed to illuminate her, provide her with some ethereal inner light that outshone every other woman in the room. And when her gaze found his, Darcy felt his heart soar, knowing he had found in her a woman precious as the costliest jewels, her heart as devoted to him as his was to her. It was a sublime moment, and for an instant, the urge to cross the room and sweep her up in his arms was nigh overpowering.
It was the woman by her side who caught Darcy’s attention and prevented him from doing something rash. Mrs. Gardiner looked back and forth between Darcy and her niece. Darcy saw her lips curl in a smile, and at that moment Darcy knew their secret was not as much of a secret as he had thought. Far from regarding them with repugnance, the woman appeared to be enjoying their inability to move, though she put a hand on Miss Elizabeth’s shoulder to pull her from her moment with Darcy.
At that moment, the conversation about them began again as a low murmur, which gained strength and rose to a roar. The intimacy between them broken, Darcy turned and attempted to gain better regulation over himself. That evening’s festivities had become more daunting, an agony to be endured rather than an amusement to be savored. How Darcy could refrain from making himself a fool over her he did not know.
“It seems the Bennets have preceded us.”
Darcy turned at the sound of his father’s voice, noting the distaste with which he watched the other family, who, Darcy could see, were doing their best to ignore the Darcys in turn.
“Yes, well you did not expect the earl to slight the Bennets and invite us alone,” said Darcy to his father.
His father’s eyes found him, for a moment rigid as the hardest diamond. Then his manner softened and he nodded, albeit with an uncharacteristic curtness. “The earl may invite whomever he pleases to his ball.”
“There is little to gain from attempting to stare holes in them,” said Alexander, close by their father’s side. “It is best to ignore them. We have done it many times.”
Though Alexander’s words were reasonable and his manner dismissive, Darcy noted his brother watching the Bennet family himself, his gaze open and unflinching. Curious, Darcy fixed his brother with a questioning look, but when he noticed, Alexander contented himself with an indifferent shrug.
“Yes, well there is nothing we can do, I suppose,” said Mr. Darcy.
For the next fifteen minutes, the Darcy family involved themselves in greeting friends and speaking amongst themselves. Darcy attempted to put the angel from his mind, but he caught sight of her enough times that he wondered that no one had noticed his interest.
On one occasion, not long before the dancing started, Darcy noticed an exchange between Lady Catherine and Lord Arundel. The lady sniffed when she saw the baron’s eyes on her, and it appeared Lord Arundel was nothing more than amused at her disdain, for he grinned and favored her with a mock bow. Lady Catherine’s response was a haughty glare, after which she turned and ignored the gentleman.
The greeting she shared with Mr. Collins was perfunctory, though the gentleman appeared eager to resume their acquaintance. While he bowed and spoke with ease, Lady Catherine’s responses were short and haughty. Darcy was not close enough to hear their exchange, but when Mr. Collins excused himself a short time later, Darcy was certain his aunt’s former parson had been disabused of any friendship between them.
A short time later, the strains for the first dance of the evening wafted out over the assembled and they took their positions for the dance. Though Darcy was dancing with Anne, he noted Miss Elizabeth standing up with her uncle, the sound of her laughter rising over the company, imbuing Darcy with a sense of lightness and joy. Oh, to have that laughter directed at him every day, to hear her joy and immerse himself in it as a lover! What greater happiness could mortal man achieve?
“I know you are not interested in me as a wife, Cousin,” Anne’s amused voice penetrated Darcy’s consciousness. “But I am astonished my feminine charms are not enough to hold your attention, even for the short period of a dance.”
“I beg your pardon, Anne,” said Darcy. “It seems I allowed myself to become distracted when I should have been attending.”
Anne’s laughter informed Darcy he had not offended her. “It is of no consequence, Darcy, though I will own I am curious who has caught your interest.”
“No one in particular,” replied Darcy, though certain he had not fooled Anne in the slightest.
“I might have thought it was one of the Bennet sisters,” said Anne, fixing him with an amused grin. “But I know you Darcys detest all Bennets and will not fraternize with those you consider the enemy.”
“I do not hate all Bennets,” protested Darcy.
“If that is the truth, it pleases me to hear it. Then I will not offend you when I ask for introductions to them throughout the course of the evening.”
“Not at all,” replied Darcy, not having to feign his approval. “If you do so, however, you will need to contend with your mother, for she will not appreciate your actions.”
“Yes, I am acquainted with my mother’s opinions,” replied Anne. “While I attempt to avoid provoking her anger, I think I shall not suffer a jot of concern tonight.”
Amply distracted, Darcy conversed with his cousin for the rest of their time together, and while he still caught sight of Miss Elizabeth occasionally, and the dance drew them together once, he did not allow his attention to waver again. Anne was interested in what she was seeing, asking Darcy questions about those attending, and Darcy agreed to inform her of what he knew, pointing out some ladies with whom he thought she could form friendships. In this pleasant manner, the rest of their time together passed.
To Elizabeth’s great surprise, Colonel Fitzwilliam approached her with Lady Charlotte in tow soon after the first sets to request an introduction and a dance.
“Are you certain it is wise?” asked Elizabeth, employing a hint of her teasing manner with the gentleman. “Will your relations not become so incensed with you that they will throw you from Pemberley in their anger?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam showed his genial nature when he guffawed at her jest, saying: “As I informed your sister’s future husband, I respect my Darcy relations without hesitation, but I reserve the right to choose my own friends. I hardly think one of them could condemn me for choosing such a bright young lady as a partner for a single dance.”
“Then I shall dance with you.”
Lady Charlotte fixed them both with a bright smile. “I shall leave you to it, for I believe there are some matters I should see to.”
The lady embraced Elizabeth and excused herself, and soon Colonel Fitzwilliam escorted Elizabeth to the dance floor. Though she noted a look of distaste from the elder Darcy, he said nothing in her hearing. The younger Darcy fixed her with an amused look and even dared to roll his eyes at his cousin, which required Elizabeth to stifle a giggle in response.
In fact, Elizabeth was well entertained by Colonel Fitzwilliam. The gentleman was an excellent conversationalist, his manners playful and engaging, and there was no want of conversation between them. The colonel entertained her with his shameless flirting and laughter and even made a few choice comments about members of his party. It was the mention of one of them in particular which sparked Elizabeth’s interest.
“Lady Catherine wishes her daughter to marry Mr. Darcy?” asked Elizabeth, not having heard this informati
on before.
“She claims it was an agreement between herself and Darcy’s mother while they were in their cradles,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Given Darcy is more than three years Anne’s elder, I doubt they were both in their cradles when this supposed agreement was being planned.”
Elizabeth nodded, catching the amused tenor of Colonel Fitzwilliam’s words, knowing there was no threat to her happiness from that quarter. “It seems to me the lady is not one to be gainsaid.”
“In that you are correct,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam with a laugh. “But Darcy is more than a match for her hard-headed insistence, and his father does not favor the match either. Had his father passed away rather than his mother, no doubt Lady Catherine would have been much more insistent, but Uncle will not tolerate her harangues on the matter, so she attempts subtlety.”
The dance took them close together in that instant, and Colonel Fitzwilliam took the opportunity to whisper to her as if imparting a secret: “Of course, her attempts at delicacy are about as subtle as riding an unbroken horse.”
Elizabeth could not help but chuckle at the picture he painted of his aunt. “I doubt she has given up hope.”
“No, in that you are correct. Lady Catherine will not give up hope until Darcy signs the register at his own wedding.”
“I thank you for this hint of the workings of the Darcy family, for I find it most amusing.”
“Then you would not be averse to making the acquaintance of another of my family who does not bear the Darcy name?” Elizabeth regarded the man, and he saw her look for the question it was. “Anne has made it known she would like an acquaintance with you and your sisters.”
“Would we not invite the wrath of your aunt?” asked Elizabeth.
“Perhaps we would,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, still shaking with suppressed laughter. “But Anne has more than enough spine to resist her mother’s displeasure and has already informed her mother of her intentions; Lady Catherine will not like it, but she will not interfere.”
“If that be the case, it would please me to make her acquaintance,” replied Elizabeth.
When the sets had concluded, Colonel Fitzwilliam led her to where Miss de Bourgh’s partner for the previous dance had escorted her and performed the formidable introductions. As the two women curtseyed to each other, Miss de Bourgh fixed a frank look on her.
“I must own to confusion, Miss Elizabeth. Might I inquire where you keep your horns and tail? For by my Darcy cousins’ accounts, you are all succubae, intent on stealing the souls of men for your own nefarious purposes.”
Elizabeth laughed, replying: “And we consider all Darcys to be horned devils who rule over their fife with an iron fist and a cruel indifference for lesser mortals.”
The three laughed together, Elizabeth appreciative of the humor these two members of the Darcy family were able to summon. “I am happy to have made your acquaintance, Miss Elizabeth, Perhaps I could induce you to introduce me to the rest of your sisters over the course of the evening?”
“It would be my pleasure, Miss de Bourgh.”
The looks Anne received from some of her party did not escape her attention, but she had little difficulty ignoring them. Her mother, Anne discounted without another thought, for her opinion derived from some grudge she held against the baron, coupled with a desire to improve her standing with Darcy’s father. Mr. Darcy, Anne noted, allowed a little frown to escape his mouth when he saw Anne becoming friendly with the Bennet sisters, but said nothing. As for her cousins . . .
Anne found their reactions informative, for neither betrayed any hint of disgust. In fact, Alexander appeared more amused than anything, while Darcy’s attention was on another quarter altogether. It was the behavior of her eldest Darcy cousin that interested Anne the most. Darcy had never been one to dance much at a ball—he was not the kind of man who enjoyed such activities. That he was often by the dance floor observing the dancers was not a surprise; that he observed one dancer in particular was. And given Fitzwilliam’s testimony of Darcy’s strange behavior of late, the possible reason for it began to percolate in Anne’s mind.
The rest of the Bennet sisters were a mixed bag of characters; Anne did not think she had ever met such a disparate group so closely related to one another. Jane was sweet and angelic, Mary quiet and serious, Kitty shy yet exuberant, and Lydia bold and brash. Anne found that she liked them all very well.
“Well, Darcy,” said Mr. Bingley a little later in the evening when he approached Darcy after a set had just ended. “I see you are set upon standing by the side in your usually stupid manner when you could be dancing.”
It seemed to Anne, who had been speaking with Darcy, that the conversation had played out many times, for Darcy grinned at his friend. “Better to stand about than make a fool of myself on the dance floor as you have been doing, my friend.”
Mr. Bingley replied with laughter. “So you always tell me.” Turning to Anne, Mr. Bingley said: “Shall we find him a partner for the next sets, Miss de Bourgh? If I did not think it would stop the earth from turning, I might suggest Darcy dance with my fiancée.”
“That would be a mistake,” said Anne. “I think neither family is ready for such sacrilege.”
“If that be sacrilege,” said Anthony, striding up to them, “then I am already guilty of it, for I have danced with both Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, and found them both lovely young ladies.”
When Fitzwilliam’s eyes flicked to where Miss Elizabeth was standing not far away—but behind Darcy where he could not see—Anne knew her cousin had some mischief in mind. “Though I have often heard it said that the Miss Bennets are great local beauties, I have never felt it so true as when Charlotte introduced me to them. Miss Elizabeth, in particular, is a bright and beautiful light, whose incandescence shines upon all us poor mortals.”
“Methinks you are laying it on a little thick, Anthony,” said Anne sotto voce.
“I have always thought Miss Elizabeth is an exceptional young woman,” said Mr. Bingley. It seemed to Anne he had realized what Anthony was doing, but she did not think he had seen Miss Elizabeth standing nearby.
“Come now, man,” said Anthony. “She is a beautiful woman, one whom any man would be fortunate should she deign to give him the slightest notice. What say you, Darcy?”
The grin with which Miss Elizabeth regarded Anthony’s flowery words suggested she understood his jesting tone. Anne locked eyes with the other woman, and they shared a looked heavenward, each almost bursting into giggles at the hilarity of the situation.
Darcy, it appeared, was growing more uncomfortable as the moments passed, and as Anne had learned in the past, a flustered Darcy was a thoughtless Darcy. He proved it with his reply.
“There is nothing exceptional about Miss Elizabeth.” Darcy’s tone was haughty and dismissive. “If she was not the daughter of a baron, I doubt any man would pay her any attention at all.”
In response to Darcy’s uncharitable words, Anthony fixed him with an even look, which reminded Darcy he had spoken out of turn. Bingley shook his head and shared an exasperated glance with Anthony. More to Anne’s interest, however, was Miss Elizabeth’s reaction. The way her frown fixed on Darcy suggested she was uncertain what to make of his words, and instead of marching over and informing him of his blunder, she stood quietly contemplating him.
“If you think that,” said Anthony, “I must assume you are a simpleton, Darcy. “There are no words which contain less truth than the ones you just spoke, and if you had any honesty at all, you would own that they are false at once.”
Anthony gave his cousin a glare and stalked away, and Bingley, though not as angry, slapped Darcy on the shoulder and departed himself. In a moment of inspiration, Anne knew what to do to provoke Darcy to confirm what her eyes had informed her was happening all night.
“Darcy,” said Anne, speaking in a whisper so Miss Elizabeth could not overhear, “the woman you just insulted was standing near enough to overhear.”
In an instant, Darcy turned as white as a sheet, his eyes darting about before they fixed on Miss Elizabeth. Anne moved away from her cousin, though she thought he would not have heard her had she marched away riding an elephant. But Anne kept her eye on him, watching him, wondering what he would do.
A moment later, Darcy’s eyes darted about the room, and seeing there was no one paying any attention to him, he moved close to Miss Elizabeth and said a few words to her, and while she did not reply, she nodded, though the action was almost imperceptible. A moment later, he stepped away, but the damage had already been done. There was something happening between Darcy and Miss Elizabeth, for they were better acquainted than Anne thought possible. What it portended she could not say. The matter intrigued her, however, and she could not help but wish to know more.
Though he had danced the first with Elizabeth, David Gardiner kept himself aloof from the dancing for the rest of the evening. While gentlemen were encouraged to ask young ladies to dance at a ball—it was even a duty, some claimed—Gardiner had little liking for dancing. Furthermore, Gardiner did not like to leave his nieces unattended, especially with the Darcys present—and one Darcy in particular. Thus, he walked about the perimeter of the dance floor attempting to watch all his nieces at once.
“I believe your vigilance is for naught, Mr. Gardiner,” a voice interrupted him after some time of this.
Turning, Gardiner noticed a young woman nearby watching, a woman he had seen but to whom he had never received an introduction. She was petite but pretty, her dark hair intertwined with a string of pearls and ribbons, her dress a lovely shade of light green. While she was not beautiful, her face was round and pretty, and the light of intelligence shone from her dark eyes.
