by Sophia King
“How could we decline a chance to mingle with such delightful society as Meryton provides?” said Wickham. “You are a generous man, sir. We shall anticipate it with great pleasure, shall we not, Denny?”
“Of course,” said Denny. He looked at Kitty and Lydia. He had so recently been their favourite, but now they gazed on Wickham as if they were starving and he was the first dinner they had seen in days. He gave a resigned sigh.
“And do you dance, Mr Wickham?” asked Lydia boldly.
Wickham hesitated. He looked at Elizabeth and seemed at a loss for how to respond. “I do indeed,” he said. “And I hope very much to dance with you all over the course of the night.”
“Well, you shall have my first two dances,” Lydia announced. “That will mean Lizzy and I are promised at least.”
“Lizzy…forgive me, Miss Elizabeth is promised?” His eyes went to Elizabeth’s.
“I am proud to say she is, sir,” said Mr Collins. He drew himself up and smiled. “And more than that, it is my intention to stay by her side throughout the night.”
Elizabeth stiffened. She knew there would be no point in protesting. It had been her observation since his arrival that Mr Collins simply ignored anyone who refused him any request, and continued on as if they had agreed. She would have to do her best to avoid him once she had performed her duty of the first two dances.
The conversation moved on to other matters, and Mr Bingley eventually took his leave. Elizabeth was disappointed for Jane that he did not stake a definite claim on any of her dances, but she reassured herself that he was certain to do so on the night of the ball. He must have realised how shy Jane was, and how it would embarrass her to be asked to dance in front of a crowd of people. It would all come right in the end.
As to her, it became very plain that Mrs Bennet and Mr Collins had made up their mind between them that she was to be the fortunate Mrs Collins and spend her days attending to William Collins, being bonny and buxom in his bed and at his board, and making up a fourth at the card tables of Rosings Park. She shuddered at the very thought. Someone moved at her side and she looked up, afraid she would see Mr Collins looming over her once again. To her relief, it was Wickham. He had taken the opportunity of the confusion caused by Bingley’s departure to move closer to her.
“I hope it is not too bold of me to ask, Miss Elizabeth,” he whispered softly. “But I hope you will do me the honour of dancing with me at the ball? Indeed, it is in large part my reason for attending.”
Elizabeth blushed, but a warm wave of feeling flooded through her. If there was anyone who could help her escape the attentions of Mr Collins, she would far rather it be the man she preferred above any other.
“I should be delighted, Mr Wickham,” she said. “I gladly accept.”
He smiled down at her. He moved away as the rest returned, and Elizabeth was free to contemplate the ball with pleasure, along with all its promises and excitements. She could hardly wait for the night to arrive.
Chapter 10
The great ballroom at Netherfield glittered as the ladies were shown inside. Elizabeth looked admiringly at the elegant decorations and the thousand candles lighting up the room, causing the silver threads in her dress to gleam. She had little to say in Miss Bingley’s favour, but she had to credit her with having excellent taste. She looked around at once, hoping to see Wickham. Her face lit up when she spotted him standing with a group of officers. Until she saw him, she had not been sure he would come. Although he had expressed his desire to dance with her, after the ball had been first announced he had seemed reluctant to speak of it and she had been afraid she was to be disappointed. He looked up and smiled when he saw her. He turned back to his friends and was about to excuse himself, when Darcy appeared at Elizabeth’s side. Wickham hesitated and returned to his fellow officers.
Elizabeth turned to Darcy with barely suppressed irritation. She refused to speak, leaving all the burden of conversation to him alone. She knew how much he disliked it, but if he would insist on approaching her, he would not put all the work of conversing on her shoulders.
“Miss Bennet,” he said when he had bowed. “I trust you are well since you returned to Longbourn?”
“Very well, thank you,” said Elizabeth. “And I have anticipated the ball with great pleasure.”
Darcy nodded, as if she had said something vaguely interesting. “And do you dance, Miss Bennet?”
Elizabeth hesitated. He knew perfectly well that she danced. Surely he was not about to solicit her hand? “Of course,” she said carefully. But Darcy merely nodded.
“Excuse me,” he said, and strode away. Elizabeth stared after him in confusion. What a strange man.
Her first two dances with Mr Collins were even more embarrassing than she had anticipated. He persisted in turning the wrong way, and collided with other dancers. He constantly scraped and apologised, then tried to engage her in conversation about Rosings Park. Elizabeth was desperate for the dances to end so she could be free of him. She looked across the room to see Wickham dancing with Lydia. Whatever Lydia had said made him throw back his head and laugh.
As Mr Collins pulled her around clumsily, she saw Darcy standing near a fireplace, watching her. What on earth could he mean by it? Surely there was nothing about her person that could offend him. She had dressed with particular care that night in anticipation of seeing Wickham. She was sure she looked better now than at any other time he had seen her. She shrugged. She did not know why she devoted so much time to figuring Mr Darcy out, but she could spend a lifetime wondering at his odd manner and it would do her little good.
Finally, Mr Collins released her. Elizabeth gave him a quick curtsey and left his side as quickly as she could before he could attach himself to her again. She saw her own particular friend, Charlotte Lucas, watching in amusement and ran to her side.
“Charlotte. I am so glad you are here,” she said as the two women embraced.
“What a performance,” said Charlotte with a laugh. “Who is your partner? Is it the famous Mr Collins who will turn you all out onto the roads as soon as Mr Bennet has died?”
“I am afraid so,” said Elizabeth. “He is determined to make amends to us for this, although I am not too keen on his proposed solution.”
Charlotte gasped. “He has not made you an offer?” she asked.
“Not yet,” said Elizabeth. “But I fear it is coming, and am doing all that I can to discourage him, while Mama does all she can to throw me into his path. It is most vexing. He is determined that he shall not leave Meryton without a bride.”
Charlotte looked at Mr Collins with curiosity. “And you are determined not to have him?” she said. “He could provide a comfortable home for a wife, I am sure, and your family will always be provided for.”
“I love my family, but I will not be their sacrificial lamb,” said Elizabeth with spirit. “I am afraid Mr Collins will have to look elsewhere for a wife. I will not have him.”
Charlotte pursed her lips and followed Mr Collins’s path as he crossed the room, then turned back to her friend with a playful smile.
“So, Mr Darcy did not make himself more appealing on closer acquaintance since your stay at Netherfield?”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Oh, no. I cannot like him at all. He is the strangest creature. So arrogant and self-satisfied. So conceited and above his company. So…”
“May I solicit your hand for the next dance, Miss Bennet?”
Elizabeth trailed off as Mr Darcy stood before them, regarding her gravely. She was so surprised and flustered at his presence that she agreed before she knew what she was doing. The music started up, and she was obligated to allow him to lead her out right then. Her annoyance increased when she saw Wickham move in her direction, and stop when he saw her with Mr Darcy. That was twice now, that Darcy’s inconvenient approaches had cost her Wickham’s company.
Darcy’s eyes followed to see where she looked. Elizabeth glanced at him and was astonished at the chan
ge that came over him. His face reddened in anger, and a muscle twitched in his tightly-clenched jaw. Wickham had turned pale, and he gave Mr Darcy a bow, before disappearing into the crowds.
“Do you know that gentleman?” asked Elizabeth. A dreadful suspicion was starting to form in her mind.
“We have met,” said Darcy in a firm tone that did not encourage further questioning. Elizabeth decided to ignore it.
“And you are not glad to see a former friend?”
“Some former friends are best kept that way,” he said abruptly. He bowed to her as the music started. Elizabeth’s mind worked fast. Unless Wickham had unfortunate dealings with two such men, Mr Darcy could only be the man who had cheated him out of his inheritance. And if that was the case, he was a far worse person than she thought.
“I am surprised to hear you say that, sir,” said Elizabeth as they crossed back and forth. “I have spent much time with Mr Wickham over the past few days and find him to be delightful company.”
“Yes,” said Darcy. “Wickham has the happy manners that make it easy for him to make friends. Whether he is just as capable of keeping them is less certain.”
“It seems he has been most unfortunate as to lose your friendship,” said Elizabeth. “In a way he is likely to regret for the rest of his life.”
Darcy looked at her. His gaze was inscrutable and Elizabeth could not tell if he was angry that she knew of what had passed between them, or simply shocked. He took her hand as they crossed with another couple before responding.
“I do not know what you have been told, Miss Bennet. But perhaps you should not be so quick as to believe all you hear.”
“Where it comes to you, Mr Darcy, I find I hear a lot that gives me pause,” she replied pertly. The music came to an end. She curtseyed to him and left before he could escort her from the dance floor. She was stopped by Wickham.
“I have been trying to approach you all evening,” he said. His brown eyes twinkled as he admired her. “But you are the most in demand lady in the room tonight. Every time I approach, I am thwarted by another gentleman.”
Elizabeth laughed. She glanced behind her. Mr Darcy had left the dance floor and stood by Mr Hurst. His tall upright figure did not cast poor, portly Mr Hurst in the most flattering light. He looked in their direction, then looked away again, his eyes as inscrutable as ever.
She looked around for Mr Collins, afraid he’d sweep her away to keep her all to himself and regale her with tales of Rosings Park’s chimney pieces. Fortunately, Charlotte had performed the kind office of keeping him to herself. He gestured with his hands as if to convey something of great height, as Charlotte nodded patiently. Elizabeth felt a flash of gratitude for her friend. It was good of her to entertain such a tedious man, leaving Elizabeth was free to enjoy herself.
“I am glad we finally have a chance to talk, Mr Wickham,” she said. “I enjoy our conversations.”
“Well, I am always happy to talk to you, of course,” said Wickham. “But I believe we can do much more than talk.” He gave a flourishing bow and held out his hand. “Miss Bennet, will you honour me with the next two dances?”
Elizabeth’s eyes flicked in Mr Darcy’s direction. Once again, he watched them. Elizabeth grinned. How it must irritate him to see a man he had discarded as if he were nothing being received as if he were someone worth knowing. It would do him no harm to suffer for his arrogance.
“I would be delighted, Mr Wickham,” she said, placing her hand in his own. With a cheer of delight, Wickham led her to the line of couples and breathless with laughter, they danced together for the rest of the evening.
Chapter 11
Mr Darcy watched Elizabeth and Wickham as they danced. He felt as if a hole burned inside him. Would he never be rid of that wretched man? He had thought never to see him again after the previous summer. If Wickham had any remorse or good nature, he would not have shown up there. He would have kept away as soon as he realised Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy were in one another’s company when he saw them in town together after the ball had been announced.
And Elizabeth danced with him as eagerly as she had slighted Darcy himself. He wondered what Wickham had told her of their former connection. No doubt it had all been lies, but Darcy would not ask. It would do little good. He could not defend himself without casting his sister in a poor light. And besides, what was Miss Elizabeth to him anyway? Yes, she was pleasing and engaging and excessively pretty. He looked for her everywhere he went and was drawn to her like a magnet. She attracted him more than he liked. But his own good sense reminded him that she was a country miss from a family of little importance. While he was sorry she had heard his discussion with Miss Bingley, he could not deny the truth of it. Miss Bennet would bring him no connections he could rejoice in. It would be far easier for him to forget her once they left Hertfordshire for London.
Darcy was determined they would do as soon as he could convince Bingley of the folly of his attachment to Miss Bennet. The lady was glad to see him, but her expression had all the mildness he saw in it when she spoke to anyone, from Bingley to Sir William Lucas. He detected no peculiar attachment in her behaviour. If she received his attentions at all, it seemed to Darcy she only did so at the command of her mother who made no secret of the fact that she was desperate for her daughters to marry wealthy men.
“Do you see how he speaks to her, Julia,” Mrs Bennet was whispering. Darcy tried not to hear, but she was too close and spoke so loudly it was impossible to avoid it. “He seeks her out as soon as he enters the room. He will not dance with any other lady. Mark my words, we will have a wedding here by Christmas.”
Lady Lucas nodded, fanning herself against the heat of so many bodies in a ballroom. “I cannot disagree with you there, Fanny,” she said. “He seems consumed with her. And how does she like him?”
Mrs Bennet waved her own fan as if it was of no matter, almost knocking a glass of watered wine as she did so. “Oh, how could Jane not like him? So rich, so handsome and attentive. He is exactly what I should always have hoped for my girls. I knew Jane could not be so beautiful for nothing. It was always her fate to save us from ruin. I think she likes him very much.”
“It is certainly an advantageous match,” said Lady Lucas. “I can only hope my girls have your luck, Fanny. I should so like to see them settled.”
“I am sure you will, Julia,” said Mrs Bennet. She patted Lady Lucas’s hand but her expression suggested she did not believe it in the slightest. “Perhaps when Jane and Bingley are wed, they shall invite your girls to stay with them? I am relying on Bingley to throw the rest of my girls into the paths of other rich men, and there is no reason why they should not do as much for Charlotte and Maria after mine are all married off. Although there will be no need for it with Lizzy.”
Darcy started at her words and looked at her anxiously. Why should there be no need for Miss Elizabeth to meet with rich men? Had he made his interest too obvious and raised expectations in certain quarters? He sometimes felt he had been too unguarded with Miss Elizabeth, but he had not thought it to the extent that anyone should have noticed.
“Mr Collins will be a fine match for her,” Mrs Bennet continued.
Darcy could have laughed out loud. Mr Collins? That bumbling, foolish man who scraped and bowed to everyone, and did not seem capable of speaking an ounce of sense? Mrs Bennet could not be serious. A man like Mr Collins would make the worst sort of husband for a lively, clever woman like Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
“He favoured Jane at first, of course. Every man does,” she added smugly. “But I told him Jane was as good as engaged to Bingley so he turned his attention to Lizzy next. I expect they will marry not long after Bingley and Jane. It is not so fine a match, but it is good enough for Lizzy. And it will ensure Longbourn stays in our family. Lizzy’s son will inherit Longbourn after their deaths, and the estate will continue on down through our family as it should.”
Darcy shook his head at Mrs Bennet’s indiscreet way of speaking.
He could not endure another word. He walked away, but his gaze was pulled irresistibly to the lines of dancing couples, and to one couple in particular.
Wickham and Elizabeth still danced together. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at him, and she was as lively and animated as he had ever known her to be. Wickham smiled and looked at her as if she were the only woman in the room. Darcy had known him to look at another lady that same way, and not so long ago. He could not stay a moment longer and watch Wickham deceive everyone around him. Especially her.
But nor was Darcy about to expose him, and likewise expose his own family to censure. They would simply have to learn the truth of his character for themselves. He wavered at the idea of Elizabeth being hurt, but strengthened his resolve by telling himself she was not his to protect. It was not his place to interfere.
The clock struck the first hour of the morning. Darcy sighed. There was still hours to go before the end. He strode around the room restlessly, waiting for the hours to pass until dawn.
Chapter 12
“You cannot be serious, Darcy,” said Bingley. The first light of dawn was breaking through the window as they had finally seen the last of their guests leave. Now, Bingley and Darcy sat in the library where Bingley had anticipated an enjoyable discussion of the night’s events and his hopes and dreams of a future with Miss Bennet. “You wish me to leave for London with you? Why should you so urgently wish to leave now?”
Darcy shrugged. “You always like to be in town for winter,” he said. He watched his friend closely. Bingley looked into the fire. His face was pale and there were two bright spots of colour on his cheeks.
