by Ted Bader
Chapter Nineteen
The day of the ball dawned sunny and bright. Sarah looked forward to it now that her cold was better. She had a nagging cough, which was becoming less frequent but still severe sounding.
Anna came bouncing into Sarah’s room as soon as she was out of bed; full of questions about the ball, she listened to every word her cousin spoke, dreaming of the day when she would be old enough to attend the festivities.
“Oh, Sarah, please teach me a dance.”
As Sarah dressed she said, “My dear one, since you have done so much to cultivate your mind, I think it is time to begin learning the simplicity of a basic English country-dance.”
Sarah then began showing her the steps to a popular dance. Anna was so enthralled with watching her mentor’s steps that soon Sarah said, “The motion of the feet is but half the art of dancing: the other lies in the movement of the body, arms and head. This time, do not watch my feet. . . .”
Anna soon jumped up to imitate her beloved governess and tripped in the middle of her movement and fell down laughing. Sarah scooped up her charge and carried the giggling girl downstairs to breakfast. The twosome entered the room in high spirits.
When Sarah and Anna had settled into their seats at the table, Georgiana inquired, “What is the cause of your good spirits?”
“Oh, mother, Sarah has been showing me some dance steps,” Anna replied.
Georgiana then asked Sarah, “Are you going to attend the ball tonight?”
“Whatever gave you the idea I would not?” was Sarah’s reply.
“Both your cold and your age.”
“My cold is almost gone, despite my occasional ugly cough; and, why should my age matter?”
“You may find, as I did, a tendency in English society, absent from our French acquaintances, to have your age of 26 speculated about. At your age, I was suddenly made aware that I was about to become an ‘old maid’ with my next birthday of seven and twenty.”
“I hope not. While I am not opposed to matrimony, I also do not long for it. I do wish to meet my old friends at Pemberley.”
With a sweet voice, Georgiana replied, “Good. Rest assured, we are not playing matchmaker. Good people always seem to find each other despite well-intentioned helpers.”
During the carriage ride to Pemberley that evening, Sarah was thankful her aunt and uncle were so kindly disposed towards her. They truly loved her and kept her best interests at heart.
As she was handed down from the carriage by Mr. Darcy, Maria came running and excitedly exclaimed, “Guess what, Sarah? Yes, I know, you will never guess. John has returned to Pemberley today and is getting ready for the ball.”
“This is wonderful; how long have you known?”
Maria looked at her father, who said happily, “We knew he would be here sometime this week, but he could not forecast the day.
Maria added, “He is between merchant marine ships and waiting for a new command.”
As Maria and Sarah walked towards the portal of Pemberley, Sarah mused at how grand, yet welcoming Pemberley always seemed to her. The large entrance doors were wide open with light suffusing out. The sweet fragrance of banquet food and pleasant perfume mixed with orchestral music delighted her senses. Maria softly chattered on about another special man attending the ball as they joined the line behind Lady Staley.
Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy greeted her sister-in-law, Lady Staley at the door with a hug and said as she pulled away, “Your elegant presence at the ball shall surely bless it. To have the ambassador and his wife here will help to divert us from the usual local topics of discussion.”
Smiling in return, Georgiana quietly said, “I never envisioned my presence would help encourage conversation. Remember how terribly shy I used to be?”
Elizabeth patted her arm, “I daresay you have blossomed into a lovely, graceful woman since your marriage to Thomas. “I hope you find the country air bracing for the nerves and favorable to the complexion. It is so good to have you at home again.”
“At one time, I thought I could never leave my home; but, I am quite happy at Staley Hall. With our sojourn in France, homecoming is all the sweeter.”
“If you are so disposed, please play the piano forte or harp for us sometime this evening.”
“It will be a pleasure.”
Lady Staley moved on and the hostess focused on Sarah. “How delightful to see the daughter of my dearest sister.” Elizabeth then moved to hug her niece as she said, “Your face, and especially your gentle and amiable spirit, always give me a pleasant reminder of the love your mother and I shared.”
Releasing her, Elizabeth continued, “No doubt you have heard the good news about John?” Pointing to the young men standing at the base of the stairs, she said, “I am sure you will want to greet both Andrew and John.”
Sarah headed to where the Darcy sons were. They were engaged in light-hearted banter, but as they saw her approach, John stepped forward and swept her off her feet, exclaiming, “My dear cousin. I have not seen you since I left Paris three years ago.” Putting her down, he inquired, “How is my special nurse?”
“John, you make too much of my assistance, I. . .” quickly she covered her mouth as a spasm of cough took hold.
Andrew stepped forward and gently asked, “Are you all right?”
“Yes, thank you,” she said with a touch of hoarseness remaining. “I am recovering from a cold.” The solicitude in Andrew’s manner touched her.
Andrew took her hand and started walking as John fell in on her other side. Her elder cousin said, “I am so glad you have returned to Derbyshire. I look forward to the renewal of our friendship in person.” He gently squeezed her hand and then let go during the last sentence and continued, “As I was telling John, I hope they cannot find a command for him for some time, as I wish him to stay here.”
“And I also,” was her reply.
As the trio walked to the refreshment stand, John said, “Andrew tells me you have had a second novel published.”
Sarah nodded yes and John said, “Congratulations. I must read it--perhaps on my next sea voyage.”
“Are the Darcy brother like all other men? Do they disapprove of women writers?”
“Of course not,” John said.
Andrew let go of her hand and seemed embarrassed at the question.
Sarah thought, Surely Andrew does not object to my writing. . . or does he? If he does, he never said so in any of his letters.
Arriving at the table, John served a glass of punch to Sarah, “My quiet brother here is about to address the Royal Society with a paper on something in regards to Derbyshire flora.”
She turned to Andrew and said, “Congratulations. What is it about?”
“There are several new species to be reported.”
“I have heard you are about to publish a scientific book. I must have a copy of it when it becomes available.”
“You shall, indeed. However, it is more of a booklet than a book and I am afraid it only contains what many would consider dry botannical descriptions.”
“Still, that seems much more substantial and important than fiction.”
“I would not be so sure,” was his amiable reply.
At this point, the Earl and Countess Westbrook, along with Sarah’s sister Laura, were announced. The Countess (formerly Caroline Bingley) and Laura approached the threesome. As they came near, the Countess loudly said, “Mr. John Darcy! It is good to see you again. Whenever you are in London, you must visit us.”
John bowed smoothly and said, “I have been gone so long, I am unaware of your current situation. Are you now residing in London?”
“No, not yet; however, we hope to move from this detestable locale, with its mobs, into the permanent finery of London society.”
John glanced at Laura inquiringly, and the Countess continued, “My niece, Laura, has decided, for reasons incomprehensible to me, against moving to London with us.”
Laura said, “Mr. and Mrs. Darcy h
ave said I may stay here at Pemberley as long as I wish.”
The Countess continued, “Why you would decide to hide your beauty here in rural seclusion is beyond me.” Raising her eyebrows haughtily, she continued, “I cannot understand why you did not find a husband during our seasons in London; perhaps you set your sights too high.”
“Auntie, I simply followed your advice on who was an appropriate beau,” Laura answered with a mischievous smile.
“Well,” the Countess harrumphed, “despite your teasing, I do hope you will not stay secluded here for long. You are always welcome to live with us in London.”
With this, the Countess moved away and Sarah’s heart sank. Her beautiful sister was obviously going to implement her lifelong plan of capturing Andrew, since she seemingly could not capture anyone of higher rank. Laura’s move to Pemberley could hardly be interpreted as anything else. Why this disquieted her heart so much, Sarah was at a loss to understand. After all, since her disfigurement with smallpox, Andrew seemed to treat her as a dear friend, but nothing more. Perhaps, it was the reminder of his botanical work which brought back the fondness she had for him as a child. Certainly, a man like Andrew deserved to be loved for himself and not sought after merely because of his potential wealth.
Mr. Paul Westbrook and Maria approached the foursome. Andrew stepped forward and eagerly shook his long-time friend’s hand and said, “Paul, it is good to see you. This is a night of homecomings. I heard of your recent return from the regiment and your gallant action at the Westbrook estate. I have been remiss in not calling on you before tonight.”
“The fault is equally mine. Our friendship is so old that it may be easily taken for granted.”
“We must rectify the situation and spend some time together. I understand you have surrendered your commission.”
“Yes, it is true. I feel a calling to enter the ministry, as my father has done.”
“I daresay yours is a good decision.”
John then interrupted to shake Mr. Westbrook’s hand and said, “I hear you too have avoided marriage.” With a big grin John playfully asked, “Do you have anyone in mind?”
“No. How about yourself? Andrew told me stories about your stay in France. Have you gone to see Mademoiselle at the exiled French court in Dorset?”
“The thought has crossed my mind,” John said cavalierly.
Sarah watched her sister’s face during the exchange between John and Paul and noticed both surprise and then furrowed eyebrows. By the time Paul turned his attention to Sarah and Laura, Laura’s face had returned to a look of ease.
John then bowed gracefully to Laura, “If you have truly forgiven me, and if I find grace in your eyes, I would like to beg of you the first two dances.”
“John Darcy, of course I will dance with you. Your impudence livens the atmosphere. All is forgotten,” with a flirt of her fan she added, “Mercy is bestowed easily to handsome men.”
Paul and Andrew then fell in step together and walked away. Maria nudged Sarah and said in a low voice, “Is he not wonderful?”
Sarah thought she should be cautious until her cousin clarified whom she meant. She supposed Maria intended Paul Westbrook, but she might be matchmaking Andrew with her.
Maria saw her reserve and continued, “I mean Mr. Paul Westbrook, of course. His gallantry, his ease of manner and amiability are all that any woman would desire.”
“Is this the special man you mentioned?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any proof of his returning your esteem?”
“He has asked me for the first two dances.”
“I wonder if you gave him any chance to ask anyone else,” Sarah said with a slight smile.
Maria playfully responded, “Your skepticism will not dampen my spirits tonight.”
Mr. and Mrs. Darcy stood at the head of the line and Mr. Darcy said, “Our honored guests this evening are the recently returned English ambassadors to France, Sir Thomas and Lady Staley. We have had four years of peace with our old adversary under their skillful diplomacy. I am truly prejudiced in their favor. Welcome them back as they lead off the first dance.”
Sarah was pleased at their handsome appearance--Sir Thomas in his impressive ambassador’s suit and Lady Georgiana in her most elegant ball gown. A couple truly made for each other, she thought. John and Laura were next, with Paul and Maria following. She began to back up and sit down at a table. She looked around and observed Andrew standing, talking to his father. There appeared to be far more ladies here this evening, so Sarah resigned herself to being an observer. She felt tired and realized she was not completely recovered from her cold. She was still glad to have come to Pemberley. The atmosphere seemed friendlier to her than the extreme formality of the embassy in Paris.
After the first dances were over, Sarah watched her sister walk to Andrew and seemed to ask him for the dance! Andrew appeared reluctant, but soon he escorted Laura onto the dance floor. Maria came and sat beside Sarah. “Is he not a wonderful dancer?”
“Yes, of course,” Sarah answered absently.
At this point, Mr. Johnson came to the table and bowed. He then sat next to Maria and turned to her, “May I have the next dance with you?”
Maria stammered, “I do not feel very well at this moment. I should like to rest for a while.”
“Then later?”
“No. I do not think so.”
He paused for a minute with eyebrows furrowed and then inquired in a gentle voice, “Are you avoiding me? Do you wish to tell me anything?”
“I am sorry, Mr. Johnson. I do not wish to dance with you this evening or any other.”
“May I ask why?”
“I do not wish to hurt your feelings further.”
“Nay, you cannot.”
“I daresay many of the women will find you reasonably gallant and handsome. You are. . . you are. . . you cannot help it that you are not of high enough rank for me.”
In a disappointed, yet steady voice, he said, “I understand. You do not wish to condescend to being seen with me.” With this, he stood, “A gentleman farmer should not aspire to the pinnacles of Pemberley, eh?” He bowed stiffly and strode away.
“Maria, how could you be so unkind?” Sarah whispered.
Looking a bit surprised, Maria answered, “Well, I would not expect for his pressing of my position. Honesty is the best policy where there is no hope. Do you not agree?”
At a loss for a proper reply, Sarah mumbled as the third dance finished, “I will get us some refreshment.”
Sarah stood and proceeded on her self-appointed errand when a large drop of falling wax narrowly missed her and caused her to lean back and begin to fall; a hand caught her and held her steady as the voice of Andrew said, “Falling wax is one of the hazards of an evening ball.”
She turned to look at him and sincerely hoped again she was not blushing as she said, “I was just getting some refreshment for Maria and myself.”
“Allow me. Please sit down, I will bring it in a moment.”
As Sarah rejoined Maria and explained, she noticed Maria’s eyes were following Andrew, with a peculiar gleam. Is Maria plotting something? she wondered. Did she arrange for Andrew to be there to rescue me? Shaking her head at the impossibility of timing such an incident, she nonetheless felt uneasy as she saw the glow in Maria’s eyes. Even if Maria was matchmaking, it would be for naught, now that the beautiful Laura was making her move to fix Andrew’s attention. How could anyone resist Laura?
Andrew returned with beverages and sat down next to Sarah. “Do you find Derbyshire dull after living in the city of lights?”
“Not at all. I prefer the north of England over any other place.”
“Good. . . . would you find it in your heart to have the next dance with me?”
She was quite happy to say, “Yes,” was her happy reply.
“Excellent.”
Sarah enjoyed the dance as much as any in her life. Andrew was quiet during the minuet, allowi
ng her to observe him as never before. A handsome young man, she thought to herself. The presence of his hand when they touched and the glances of his eye made her heart whisper that Andrew might be falling in love with her. Her mind quickly rejoined that this was only her imagination. As she mused, she felt that it was such a shame there were so many obstacles between the two of them. He was probably just being kind in performing as host to their party. Perhaps, even his father had urged him to dance with her, to make everyone feel welcome. The latter thought intruded frequently during the evening when she watched him ask several other here-to-fore unengaged ladies during the evening.
Finally, the dancing was brought to a stop and the supper served. Sarah was seated between Andrew and Maria. She noticed that Mr. Paul Westbrook was on the other side of Maria.
After the first course, Mr. Darcy stood and asked the seated assembly, “I have been asked to relate some riddles tonight. Is there desire by this assembly for the same?”
The large seated group murmured favorably and several men said, “Here, here,” at once.
As the approbation calmed down, Sir Thomas asked, “And what shall be the prize for the person answering the most correctly?”
“I do not know,” was Mr. Darcy’s thoughtful reply, “what would you suggest?”
Sir Thomas replied, “I have one in mind, but, perhaps we can name the prize later, depending on the difficulty of the riddles.”
“Here, here,” the group continued.
Mr. Darcy began, “What is it you will break if you even name it?”
Maria piped up, “Mother’s valuable vase.” The group laughed. Mr. Darcy shook his head indicating no.
When the room quieted down, Mr. Paul Westbrook ventured, “Silence, of course.”
Mr. Darcy smiled as the group applauded. “The next one is. . . if you feed it, it will live. . . if you give it water, it will die.”
“Father, you make these much too difficult,” Maria complained.
