by Emma Osborne
“Miss Bennet, this is not how I would have liked to have made your acquaintance. I am Mr. Bingley, and I am very glad that you and your sisters were able to attend the ball. I do hope that you have enjoyed yourself… forgetting what has just happened, of course.” Elizabeth could not help but smile, for the young man was so earnest in his speech that it was hard not to like him immediately. He was most agreeable, and she could see why Jane had danced with him so often since they had arrived.
“I thank you, Mr. Bingley, it has indeed been most diverting. I have never seen anything like this before…” Charles smiled at her genuinely, and the cold knot in Elizabeth’s stomach began to loosen just a little.
“Miss Bennet, you must meet my oldest friend. This is Mr. Darcy. He has been staying with us these past months, but I daresay he would rather be back in London or at his own country estate.” Elizabeth turned to see the arrogant man in the dark coat coming up behind them, and her eyes narrowed as she noticed the ivy covered mask in his hand.
“In truth, I would prefer to be back at Pemberley, but it is the country air that inspires that desire, Charles, nothing more. I have business in London which will keep me away longer than I should like.” His tone was easy, but not as genial as his Mr. Bingley’s was, and Elizabeth wondered how two completely different men could be such fast friends. “Miss Bennet, I am pleased to make your acquaintance in a more formal setting.” The man’s eyes sparkled with mirth, but Elizabeth was not in a similar mood. A maid in a dark uniform bustled past them and ducked through the damask curtains that hid the grand staircase that led to the upper floor. The woman was carrying linen and a small leather case, and while she had been quiet, the mild interruption was enough to distract Mr. Bingley, and he suddenly looked mildly uncomfortable.
“Miss Bennet, I must go and see if your sister has everything that she needs. We shall rejoin the party shortly.” He clapped his hands together quickly, and the noise made Elizabeth jump slightly and caused Mr. Darcy to chuckle behind her. “Darcy, we must not let our guests know that anything has happened. Do please, escort Miss Bennet back to the ball, and do not forget to put your masks on again.” Mr. Bingley reached out a tentative hand towards Elizabeth and after a moment’s hesitation, she handed Jane’s mask to him. He held it gently in his hands and Elizabeth felt her heart lift just a little.
She also heard Mr. Darcy sigh as Mr. Bingley turned away from them to disappear behind the curtains. Elizabeth straightened her shoulders, brought her mask up to her face, and tied the ribbons snugly behind her head. Thus adorned she turned back to Mr. Darcy, her enforced escort, to see that he had also taken a moment to replace his own mask. His eyes shone from within the mask and Elizabeth could not stop herself from heaving her own furious sigh as he offered her his arm.
Elizabeth placed her arm lightly on top of his and walked beside him into the ballroom. The musicians were just about to start another piece, and dancers were taking their places on the floor. Elizabeth spied her younger sisters in the line; their partners were members of the Prussian cadre, their wolfish masks enhancing their lean and hungry look. Elizabeth shook her head, now she was imagining things that were not there. They were not wolves. They were men.
Mr. Darcy took up his place in the line across from her and Elizabeth tried to focus on the music and remembering her steps. But she was distracted by the warmth of the room and the bright colors of the guests around her. The bright red of the officer’s regimental jackets reminded her of the blood on the young boy’s shoulder, and how black it had looked in the moonlight. She swallowed the lump in her throat and stepped forward to begin the dance. Mr. Darcy’s hand was light against hers, but she refused to meet his eyes. Thankfully, Mr. Darcy did not make any attempt at conversation, but his eyes did not leave her face, and Elizabeth found herself wishing that the song would end even though it had only reached the second bar. As soon as Jane returned with Mr. Bingley, Elizabeth decided that she would leave Mr. Darcy’s company.
As they performed the steps of the dance, Elizabeth allowed her gaze to wander over the crowd, but she was not looking for anyone in particular. Somehow, her eyes found the leader of the Prussian cadre each time, and each time she found it difficult to pry her gaze away from his pale stare. He stood a full had taller than those around him, and his body language was nothing short of commanding and powerful even though he was standing still. She found herself wondering if the man ever relaxed, and what his voice sounded like.
“Miss Bennet, your sister has returned. I am sure you are looking forward to being released from my company.” Elizabeth looked at her dance partner, startled; it was as though he had perceived her very thoughts. She pressed her lips together to hide her surprise. She looked over to the ballroom doors, and saw that Jane and Mr. Bingley were indeed returning to the ball. Jane’s cheeks glowed under the edges of her mask and the smile on Mr. Bingley’s face conveyed all that Jane would tell her later that night.
A woman dressed in a gown of dark orange and brown with a sash of bright gold watched the couple from the edge of the dance floor. She wore bright gold mask that concealed most of her face, but Elizabeth could see that her gold painted lips were pressed together in an expression of what could only be anger.
“Ah, you have not met Miss Bingley. Although, this is perhaps the best way to make her acquaintance.” Mr. Darcy’s voice was at her ear, and Elizabeth tried to pretend that he had not startled her. Her eyes slid briefly to his, but he was watching his friend with Jane. The pair were talking together closely while Miss Bingley glowered in their direction. The officer who had been attempting to persuade Miss Bingley towards the dance floor abandoned his pursuit and turned towards another young lady who was hovering expectantly at the edge of the dance floor, but Miss Bingley did not seem to notice.
The dance ended, abruptly it seemed, and Elizabeth rose from her curtsey and turned away from Mr. Darcy without another word, she knew that it was uncommonly rude of her, but she could not bear the man’s company any longer. Charlotte, in her bright red mask was standing where Elizabeth had left her, and she was relieved to see a calm island of normalcy in the midst of the festivities. Charlotte was holding a glass of wine delicately in her gloved hands and Elizabeth snatched it from her fingers and drained the goblet in one unladylike gulp. Charlotte gasped in surprise and then giggled as Elizabeth pressed her hand to her chest while the wine burned its way down her throat.
“Lizzy! What has come over you? Mama!” Elizabeth coughed and took Charlotte’s fan to hide her distress.
“Pray do not trouble your mother. It is nothing, Charlotte. I’m fine. Really.” Elizabeth fanned herself briskly and tried to control her heart rate. Her eyes found the Prussian officers, standing in a small group, but they were not speaking to each other, merely standing and watching the other guests. “Charlotte... do you know anything about those officers?” Charlotte followed Elizabeth’s gaze and shook her head.
“I confess that I do not... I know that they are newly arrived to Meryton, and they joined the garrison most unexpectedly. Colonel Forster seemed somewhat surprised at their arrival, or that is what Papa said when I asked him.” Elizabeth watched them carefully.
“Has no one asked them?” Charlotte’s eyes widened behind her mask.
“Lizzy! What are you suggesting?”
“I’m going to go and ask them, and you are coming with me.” Elizabeth ignored Charlotte’s choked protests and grabbed her friend by the hand. She had been through too much this evening, and the questions that swirled through her mind demanded to be answered. She could not abide the mystery any longer. Armed with her determination, she marched towards the group of officers.
The leader of the group turned towards her as she approached, and Elizabeth fought the shiver than rushed down her spine as his pale eyes met hers. She stopped in her tracks as the man stepped forward and looked down at her. All at once, all of her bravado disappeared.
“You were outside, at the stables. Why were you t
here?” The question burst from her lips, and Elizabeth felt a blush rising to her cheeks, and she was grateful once more for her mask. The giant man before her did not react to her words, but Elizabeth thought that she saw the ghost of a smile flicker across his lips. His jawline clenched briefly, and Elizabeth wondered what he was thinking. The man bowed slowly, keeping his eyes on Elizabeth, and she fidgeted with the ribbon at her waist, waiting for him to reply.
“I beg your pardon, we have not made our proper introductions. I am Miss Lucas, and this is Miss Bennet.” Elizabeth felt the heat in her cheeks intensify and she bobbed a n embarrassed curtsey.
“My apologies, Miss Bennet, Miss Lucas. My name is Gerard Henry. We are newly arrived to Meryton, and I have been very glad to meet the friends of the regiment.” Elizabeth tried to hide the way the sound of his voice rippled over her, and she was a prisoner of his pale gaze. “I had merely gone outside to check on my horse, I did not expect to find such...”
“Lizzy! You cannot expect the officers to stand around making conversation when there is dancing going on!” Without warning, Lydia had run towards them, and was tugging on Mr. Henry’s arm. “You would be so jealous, Lizzy, the Prussian officers have been teaching us some new dances, but I have not decided if I will show them to you or not. Come now, Mr. Henry, you have been promising me a dance all evening, and the ball is almost over! I will not be denied!”
The large man’s smile revealed sharp white teeth and Elizabeth smothered a gasp at the sight of them. No. She was seeing things again. It was only the mask that made him look so predatory, nothing more. Lydia, in her china doll mask, pulled the officer away and Elizabeth could do nothing but watch as they took up their positions for the dance.
“What were you hoping to discover, Lizzy? I daresay you will have a hard time getting anything out of gentlemen such as them.” Elizabeth murmured a reply, but her eyes were on Mr. Henry as he bowed to Lydia and the dance began. There was something unsettling about them, every one of them, and she would not be satisfied until she knew more.
Chapter 8
The carriage ride home from the ball was much the same as any other. Elizabeth and Jane stared out the window, lost in their own thoughts, while the younger Bennet sisters bombarded their mother with their version of the evening’s events.
“Mama, I swear that I danced with every officer at least twice! Kitty, did you see Mr. Denny’s face when I danced with that Prussian officer? I daresay I thought his head was about to burst with jealousy.” Lydia laughed gaily as Mrs. Bennet sighed happily. As far as she was concerned, the ball had been a triumph. Jane had danced with Mr. Bingley for much of the evening, and he had even escorted her to the carriage when the ball had begun to wind down.
Mr. Darcy had attempted to ask Elizabeth to dance twice more, but she had rejected his requests with various excuses until he had appeared to take the hint. Nevertheless, she could not help but watch with interest as he had taken Miss Bingley to the dance floor in her stead. However, she did not feel one way or another about it, for her eyes were constantly seeking out Mr. Henry and his cold gaze. Each time her eyes found him, it seemed that he knew she was watching him; Elizabeth had felt a heat rising to her cheeks each time their eyes locked.
She was still no clearer on who these officers were, or why they were in Meryton, but no one else seemed to be bothered by their presence. Even Mrs. Forster, who had expressed some trepidation at their coming, had seemed overjoyed to have them in town, and Elizabeth’s suspicions were not quieted by the fact that Mr. Henry would have had no reason to be at the stables. He could not have heard the commotion from the ballroom. It was impossible.
“Lizzy, who was it that you were dancing with? Charlotte Lucas told me that it was Mr. Bingley who had taken up Jane’s dance card, but she did not know who you were partnered with.” Mrs. Bennet’s question was pointed, if there was anything that her mother hated, it was to be uninformed. Especially in a social situation. In this instance, Elizabeth was not feeling charitable, and she turned to her mother and kept her voice as mild as possible.
“I do not know, Mama. I did not ask his name, and he did not ask mine… but he was quite a disagreeable dancing partner, and very ill at conversation.” Jane’s eyes widened, but she did not say anything, and Elizabeth was silently grateful for her sister’s tact. Jane knew the identity of Elizabeth’s partner, just as she did, but Mrs. Bennet did not have to know. It would serve nothing for their mother to know that she had been dancing with the wealthiest bachelor currently in Hertfordshire. Her mother would not care what he had said about Jane, all she would care was the fact that he had ten thousand a year and a grand country estate.
Mrs. Bennet huffed and leaned back in her seat. “Well, no matter, Lizzy. Jane has had enough good luck for all of you girls tonight. I could not be more pleased. I cannot wait to tell Mr. Bennet!” Elizabeth smiled sympathetically across the carriage at Jane, but her sister was looking down at the butterfly mask in her hands. As a final parting gift, they had all been allowed to keep their masks, but Kitty was holding a mask that was not her own and she stared down at it transfixed, stroking the dark feathers with the tips of her fingers.
“Kitty… what mask is that in your lap?” Elizabeth’s question caught her younger sister unawares, and she was startled out of her trance.
“Hm? Oh! It belonged to Mr. Mason… he asked me to trade.” She held the mask up to her face briefly, and Elizabeth had to stop herself from jumping as the wolf mask hid her sister’s features. Her blue eyes flashed in the dim light and cold fingers crept up Elizabeth’s spine, making her shiver.
“How nice, Kitty! He was one of those Prussian officers, was he not? How dashing they were in their black coats. Most intriguing gentlemen, do you not agree, Lizzy?” Elizabeth nodded but did not answer, but Mrs. Bennet did not seem to notice and continued her exclamations over the decorations, the food, and the quality of the music.
The carriage slowed as it entered the courtyard of Longbourn, and as the girls followed Mrs. Bennet to the front door of the house Elizabeth paused and looked back over her shoulder, peering into the darkness. In the traces of the carriage, their mare, Misty, tossed her head and neighed suddenly, startling her. The driver spoke soothingly to the horse and clicked his tongue to urge her forward. He tipped his hat to Elizabeth, leaving her standing on her own in the gravel of the courtyard. The moon was high in the sky above her, and cast a silvery light over the courtyard and creating shifting shadows in the gardens that surrounded the house. The breeze was chilled and Elizabeth pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders as she stared into the darkness.
She could not shake the feeling that she was not alone. That she was being watched.
“Lizzy!”
Elizabeth turned to see Mary standing in the open doorway, the golden light and warmth of the house spilled over the doorstep and out over the gravel. “Lizzy, are you coming in? Mama is asking for you, she is telling Papa about the ball and she needs your help.” Mary’s tone was dry, and Elizabeth sighed and walked towards the door and the safety of the welcoming light that beckoned to her. A loud snap from the trees that edged the courtyard made her pause.
“Mary… do you see anything in the garden?” Elizabeth tried to keep her voice low, and Mary squinted into the dark, though she did not leave the doorway.
“I cannot see anything but you, Lizzy. Do come inside, it is getting cold and Papa will be cross with me if I let all the warm air out!” Mary had not taken her sister’s cue to keep her voice down, and Elizabeth quickened her pace, not slowing until she had crossed the threshold and pushed past Mary to push the door closed. She peered into the night, her heart hammering in her chest, seeking anything in the trees, a hint that she had not been imagining things; but she saw nothing. Elizabeth pressed the door closed, relaxing just a little as the latch clicked into place.
“Whatever is the matter, Lizzy? You are very pale.” Elizabeth smiled weakly at her sister and held a hand to her cheek. She was
cold.
“It is nothing, Mary. I will be fine in a moment; I just need to sit by the fire.” Mary nodded, but did not look entirely convinced. Elizabeth glanced out the window once more as she followed Mary towards the parlor, but the courtyard was still, lit only by the moon that sat high in the dark sky above Longbourn.
“I say again, Darcy, I am convinced that we are beset by wolves. You cannot sit there and tell me that what happened at the stables was not caused by one of those beasts!” Charles Bingley set down his teacup with a determined click and stared at his friend incredulously. “We were chased through the forest by no less than three of the creatures, I am sure of it. And the horses, Darcy… surely you cannot tell me that wild dogs did that to the horses!”
Darcy drummed his fingers upon the tabletop and Charles fumed silently as the mantle clock ticked the seconds away. Unable to bear the silence any longer Charles slammed his fist down onto the table, rattling the china and causing Darcy to look up at him with his eyebrow raised. Charles was not an excitable man by any means, but he was clearly upset by everything that had happened.
“Charles, listen to yourself. You are blaming all of this mayhem on a creature that has been hunted to extinction in these parts. There are no wolves in England. Even if there were, what on earth would they be doing in the woods surrounding Netherfield Park? I would expect them to be harassing my herds up north sooner than Hertfordshire’s countryside.” Darcy could not keep the scorn out of his voice, but his patience was running thin and Charles was being ridiculous.
“Would you feel better if we asked some members of the militia to come and search the forest with us?” The question had been sarcastic, but Charles brightened immediately and Darcy groaned inwardly. This was the last thing he wanted. Running around the forest beating bushes to flush out a figment of Charles’ imagination.
