"Shall there be enough ladies to go around?" asked Wickham.
"I daresay there shall be, and if not, gentlemen are less likely to mind sitting out a dance than ladies are, in my observation."
"And a sharp observation it is," said Wickham, smiling at her.
"But let us not forget to whom your first dance is promised," said Collins, desperate at being left out of the conversation.
"Certainly, Mr. Collins, I shall not forget your gallantry at asking," said Elizabeth, then turned her attention back to Mr. Wickham.
They continued their light conversation, including Jane, Mary, and Mr. Collins as often as they could manage. None who were watching them, however, could be left with any doubt the main conversationalists were Elizabeth and Mr. Wickham.
Even a man as lacking in observation as Mr. Collins could not miss the connection being forged in front of his eyes. His attempts to insert himself into the conversation and draw Elizabeth's attention were unsuccessful, and he became visibly more irritated with each rebuffed effort. It was not until the Bennet girls had bid farewell to Denny and Wickham and started the journey back to Longbourn that Mr. Collins began to return to his standard awkwardly formal manner. It was clear he had not planned to have any sort of competition for Elizabeth's affection, and the meeting with Mr. Wickham left him concerned about what would happen in the near future.
* * *
Mr. Collins was not at all certain about his decision in regards to choosing a bride. Before arriving a Longbourn, he heard of the loveliness of the Bennet girls, and assumed, as none of them were engaged, that he would have his pick of them. However, the truth of the matter was much more complicated. He had first been interested in Jane, but she was quite nearly spoken for. He had turned his attention to Elizabeth, only to see that militia officer charm his way into her good graces. Ought he to concentrate on the younger girls? Lydia and Kitty did not have any impediments of which he was aware; in addition, they seemed as if they would be more receptive to the idea of an engagement. Perhaps it would make more sense for him to turn his attention to one of these young ladies.
Then he thought of Elizabeth's loveliness, and he realized he was not willing to abandon the idea of her as his wife simply because of an upstart soldier. He determined he would fight for her affections, and make her understand the two of them were meant to be wed. And what better opportunity than at the Netherfield Ball?
With this decision made, Mr. Collins began to plan how to best woo his cousin at the upcoming ball.
Chapter 6
"Lizzy, have you ever seen such a ball?" Charlotte Lucas asked her friend.
"Indeed, it is quite grand," Elizabeth replied. She craned her neck, trying to locate Mr. Wickham. She did not see him; unfortunately, she locked eyes with the unpleasant Mr. Darcy instead.
"Oh, no, Charlotte," she whispered. "He is making his way towards us."
Elizabeth already had her fill of men in whom she had not the slightest interest. Mr. Collins made quite an event of partnering with her for the first two dances of the evening. Though his handsome physical features at first suggested perfection, his dexterity—in addition to his personality—was far lacking this mark. Her feet were quite sore from his many missteps. She was relieved when she danced the maximum number of dances with Mr. Collins that was proper; to invite her to dance again would practically be a proposal of marriage. She hoped even Mr. Collins was not so foolish.
Elizabeth set thoughts of Mr. Collins aside. It was clear Mr. Darcy was aiming towards Charlotte and her, and she would need all her wits about her if she was to manage a conversation with him.
"Good evening, ladies," Mr. Darcy said with a bow.
Elizabeth and Charlotte curtsied in response.
"I wonder, Miss Elizabeth, if I might have the honor of the next dance."
Elizabeth's head felt thick. Why would Mr. Darcy want to dance with someone as 'barely tolerable' as she? She stared at him blankly for a moment, willing some witty response to occur to her--something to let him know she was not in the slightest interested in a dance with him. Unfortunately, no such response came to mind. She answered in the only way she could, without causing a social furor: "You may."
She cast a glance over her shoulder at Charlotte as Mr. Darcy led her to the dance floor. Charlotte gave her a small smile and raised her eyebrows, and then Elizabeth was in the midst of the dance with the horrid Mr. Darcy.
She realized remaining silent would only intensify an otherwise awkward situation, and her best chance of escaping unscathed was to make light conversation. Whether Mr. Darcy would hold up his end of the conversation, she had not the slightest idea.
"How do you find Hertfordshire, Mr. Darcy?" she asked as they met in the middle of the dance floor. Each continued in the opposite direction before reversing the steps, so she had to wait a moment for his response.
"It is noisy in a much different way than in town. There are fewer voices, but those that there are seem to ring much more stridently in the country than they do in the city."
"Ah, so you find us strident? Is that another way of saying coarse?"
"Certainly I would never use the word coarse. It is true the country seems to be a bit behind the city in fashions and entertainments, but I do not intend that as a criticism."
"Do you not? It seems you found fault with much of what you have seen so far, and what is finding fault but criticism?"
"Is this the impression you have formed of me?" he asked, frowning.
"Sir, you have given me little reason for any other impression," Elizabeth said, returning his frown.
The two continued the dance, both of them angry at the other for reasons they could not put words to. It was therefore a relief to them to hear the dance ending.
"I apologize for having detained you in such a distasteful pastime," Darcy said, with a stiff bow.
"I never said it was distasteful! It seems clear you have no intention but to provoke me! I am embarrassed, sir, that I allowed myself to be tricked into dancing with you!"
She turned and stomped off the dance floor. Darcy stared after her for a moment, shocked. If anyone was provoked during their dance, it was not she! However, he was more upset with himself than he was with Elizabeth. Even while she was in the midst of being unreasonable, all he could think of was how fine she looked with color in her cheeks. She stared at him so intently as they spoke, as if, for the duration of their dance, nothing existed except the two of them. How he longed for her to look at him like that again, only fueled by passion rather than anger. He could not make himself forget her even as she made clear she wanted nothing more to do with him.
Darcy, you stumbled into quite a mess this time, he thought as he made his way off the dance floor and towards the quiet of a nearby garden.
* * *
Elizabeth was indeed in fine form. How dare Darcy treat her in such a way! She made every effort to be polite to him, but he mocked her at every turn. What is more, he delayed her search for the man whom she hoped to find. Much to her consternation, she felt tears of anger rising in her eyes and she slipped into a nearby sitting room to compose herself. There were several people milling about, so she found an out-of-the-way spot to sit.
She dropped to a settee and wiped at her eyes. She was most upset at the fact she had been reduced to tears by someone of such little consequence as Mr. Darcy. Why was she unable to show him the same disdain which he had for her? She shook her head and dropped it into her hands, willing herself to stop crying.
"There is nothing more upsetting than seeing a lovely girl crying."
Her eyes flew open and she found the man she had been searching for standing in front of her. Mr. Wickham gave her a small smile and pressed a handkerchief in her hand.
"May I sit?"
Elizabeth nodded in response.
"What has upset you so much during an evening of merriment, Miss Bennet?"
"It is quite the most foolish thing," she said, still working to keep her sobs
under control. "Mr. Darcy asked me to dance, and then was most unpleasant the entire time."
Wickham was on his feet, anger flashing in his eyes. "How dare he treat you in such a way!”
"I daresay Mr. Darcy believes it to be his right to treat me any way he pleases," said Elizabeth, dabbing her eyes.
"Not while you have me as your champion. I shall demand satisfaction for such a slight!"
"No, no, you must not! It is a small thing, I assure you, and there is no need for my honor to be defended."
"Are you certain? I will fight for you, Miss Bennet. I cannot imagine any more worthy cause."
"I am flattered you think me so worthy," Elizabeth said, and felt her cheeks flush.
"Anyone who does not is a fool," said Wickham softly, looking into her eyes.
Elizabeth was overwhelmed by the entire situation. Especially after the disastrous dance with Mr. Darcy, Mr. Wickham seemed to be the consummate gentleman. He was charming, kind, entertaining--and, she would have to admit if pressed, quite handsome as well. If things continued along the same path, she foresaw herself becoming quite fond of Mr. Wickham.
She hoped he would ask her to dance--ought she not have one enjoyable partner for the evening?--but before such a thing could occur, Mr. Collins walked into the room.
"Cousin Elizabeth! There you are! I have been searching for you. I saw you were dancing with Mr. Darcy, and by the time I introduced myself to the gentleman, you had disappeared!"
"You introduced yourself to Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth said, somewhat faintly.
"Indeed I did! I told him his aunt was in quite good health. He seemed quite busy in his current conversation, however, as he did not have the time to converse with me. But what a fine gentleman he is! I would expect nothing less from a nephew of Lady Catherine."
Elizabeth resisted the urge to rub her temples in consternation. She knew Mr. Darcy would have been quite offended for Mr. Collins to speak with him without a formal introduction. Elizabeth was making every effort to elevate her family above Mr. Darcy's opinion of them, and Mr. Collins was uncouth enough to introduce himself!
"I have been searching for you, dear cousin, because I hoped you would honor me with another dance."
Elizabeth looked at him for a moment, unsure of what to say. It was clear the man was somewhat unmannered, based on his interaction with Mr. Darcy; perhaps he did not know of the impropriety of asking her to dance again? But she could not run the risk that Mr. Collins was making an intentional offer to her--an offer she had no intention of agreeing to.
"I am sorry, Mr. Collins, but I seem to have turned my ankle during my last dance."
"Oh, how awful! And you have waited so long to tell me about it! Come, I must take you to your mother. She will know what to do."
Elizabeth's options were to dance with Mr. Collins or to spend the remainder of the ball sitting with her mother. The choice was difficult, but an evening spent listening to her mother chatter would be over far more quickly than a lifetime with Mr. Collins.
"Allow me to help you," offered Mr. Wickham, rising to take her arm.
"Oh, no, no, sir, no reason for you to bother yourself," Mr. Collins said with a sharp glance. "I am more than capable of getting my cousin to her mother." To Elizabeth, he added, "Can you walk? Shall I carry you?"
"No!" Elizabeth shuddered at the idea of Mr. Collins carrying her through the ball. "It is too sore to dance, but I can walk."
"Well, come then," said Mr. Collins, pulling her by the arm.
She allowed herself to be led away because she had not the slightest idea what else to do; as she left the room, she cast a glance over her shoulder at Mr. Wickham. He smiled and bowed towards her, and then he was out of sight.
"Lizzy, what have you done?" demanded her mother as Mr. Collins directed her across the floor. "Why are you limping?"
"Cousin Elizabeth had the misfortune of hurting her ankle during her last dance," said Mr. Collins, looking graver than was necessary. "I do not wish to see her hurt herself further, so I brought her directly to you, madam."
"And a good thing you did, Mr. Collins! You are ever so solicitous."
"I do not want my dear cousin injured. Shall I stay with you and keep you company, cousin?"
"That is not at all necessary, Mr. Collins. I would not want to be the cause of your missing the remainder of the ball. Go and enjoy yourself."
"As you command, my lady," Mr. Collins said, and performed one of those bows which he believed to be courtly, but which were actually rather ostentatiously foolish. He cast several looks over his shoulder as he walked away, trying to maintain meaningful eye contact with Elizabeth. She was relieved when she could no longer see him.
"Well, Miss Lizzy, it seems you made quite the impression on Mr. Collins! I should have expected him to be drawn to Lydia; they should make such a handsome couple. But I am certain Lydia will find an officer, and it is clear Mr. Collins prefers you. There will be two weddings to plan!"
Elizabeth noticed Mr. Darcy standing nearby where she and her mother sat. By the look on his face, it was clear he overheard her mother talking about engagements that had not yet happened. Elizabeth flushed a deep red at the thought of her mother embarrassing herself in front of Mr. Darcy.
Darcy's eyes moved to Elizabeth's, and his countenance changed. The disdain on his face melted away, and he just stared blankly at her for a moment. Then he abruptly turned and walked away.
"Mama, please do not talk of such things. No offers have been made."
"Well, they will soon be," said her mother, chastened not in the slightest.
"Even if that was true, I have no intention of marrying Mr. Collins."
"No intention!" her mother screeched, loudly enough that several people turned around to stare.
"Do not call attention to us," Elizabeth begged.
Mrs. Bennet seemed to suddenly notice how many eyes were on them, and, while she enjoyed sharing gossip, she was not especially fond of being the subject of it. "We will speak of this very soon," she said.
To Elizabeth, it sounded very much like a threat.
Elizabeth could tell her mother was nearly bursting on the carriage ride back to Longbourn. However, Mr. Collins rode with them, so Mrs. Bennet did not have the chance to chastise her daughter in a way she thought was appropriate. Elizabeth managed to make it into the house ahead of her mother and hastened to change into her night dress. By the time Mrs. Bennet finally located Elizabeth, it was to find her apparently deep in sleep. Elizabeth feigned sleep and heard her mother's irritated sigh. Then the door to the bedroom closed and Elizabeth knew the conversation was avoided until the morning.
Chapter 7
Elizabeth managed to avoid her mother until they met at the breakfast table, but her luck did not hold beyond that. As soon as the meal was finished, Mr. Collins stood.
"I was wondering if I might speak to Miss Elizabeth," he said.
"Oh!" squeaked Mrs. Bennet. "Of course. Come along, girls."
"Do not go," said Elizabeth. "There can be nothing Mr. Collins must say to me which cannot be said in front of my family."
"Nonsense, Lizzy," said Mrs. Bennet, ushering the other girls out the door. She gave Elizabeth a look that commanded her to be sensible and accept Mr. Collins. "I insist you stay and hear what Mr. Collins has to say."
At that point Elizabeth realized it would be best to be done with the conversation as soon as possible; Mr. Collins seemed determined to make an offer, and she could dash his hopes as easily now as later. With a resigned sigh, she sat and gave Mr. Collins her attention.
"I have not concealed my purpose for visiting. Almost from the moment I arrived, I knew you were the woman whom I wish to take for my wife."
Elizabeth attempted to tell him she was not interested, but he held a hand up for her to be silent.
"Before you speak, let me tell you why I seek a wife at this time. I will admit, I had not been considering matrimony until Lady Catherine expressed to me how much she wishes me
to marry. Upon reflection, I found that, as with every other piece of advice I have received from that wonderful source, I was indeed very much in need of a wife. As the heir, I took it upon myself to travel to Longbourn to acquaint myself with my cousins. Imagine the joy I felt when I first beheld your beauty, Miss Elizabeth. I am overwhelmed, even now, by the intensity of my love for you."
He paused for a moment and smiled a practiced smile. There was no trace of legitimate emotion behind it.
Elizabeth was overcome with frustration. It was clear Mr. Collins believed any woman would be grateful to be his wife. Why, he was not asking her to marry him so much as lecturing her on why Lady Catherine thought it to be a good idea!
"Once I tell Lady Catherine of your amiable qualities, she will very much approve of the choice I have made."
Elizabeth found her voice. "You have made your decision clear, sir, but you have not yet heard mine. I cannot marry you."
He smiled at her indulgently. "I know your feminine delicacy leads you to demur. I am not insensible to the games ladies play."
"I know nothing of the ‘games ladies play’, Mr. Collins, but I assure you I am quite serious in my refusal. There is no way we will be happy together."
"Your refusal makes my heart stronger. I did not realize the depth of your humility. I chose well, indeed."
"Mr. Collins, allow me to be clear: I shall not marry you."
His eyes narrowed. "You cannot honestly be refusing me."
"I am and I shall continue to do so. In what way do you see us as being compatible?"
"You are lovely, and I believe you have the breeding to make a good wife."
"So my beauty and breeding are all that interest you?" she said, her temper flaring. "Nothing of my thoughts, or of what I hold dear? Allow me to answer for you. You are not interested in either of those things, because you made no attempt to learn of them. I am not a decoration sir, nor shall I ever be. I have done you the courtesy of setting your looks aside when considering you; perhaps you should do the same."
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