A Case of Some Delicacy

by K C Kahler

  He looked into her eyes for a long moment. She had never seen his expression so unguarded, and what she read there—agony, rage, fear—nearly broke her heart. He finally looked down at her hand, composing himself, and she stepped back into her place. He glanced around. “I am not able to reveal too much, but I must warn you about his character so that you and all your sisters might be on your guard.”

  He spoke with such gravity as to hold special weight in Elizabeth’s consciousness. She pondered how best to decipher his meaning, but he abruptly changed the subject. “Tell me, Miss Elizabeth, have you resumed your morning walks now that your injury is healed?”

  She eyed him. Could he again be suggesting they meet secretly in the woods? Could she again be considering doing it? “I have, though I go a bit later now to account for the shortening days.”

  He nodded before she added quietly, “I also walk out later to avoid rather than intercept one member of the household. It appears I have attained far too much success in my efforts to distract a certain gentleman’s interest.”

  “Perhaps I could reveal more of my aunt’s deeply held opinions to further influence him. Although, in light of our previous discussion, I cannot imagine why he thinks his new object would be any more acceptable than his first under that criterion.”

  She shook her head. “I appreciate your attempt at flattery, Mr Darcy, but everyone knows his first object is the real beauty. He is keenly aware of what he has given up.”

  “Utter nonsense,” he grumbled, looking towards Mary suffering through her dance with Mr Collins.

  “In any case, I thank you for your offer to intercede again, but I think it high time the gentleman in question experiences rejection first hand. Perhaps then he will cease making assumptions about his own significance in young ladies’ affections.”

  “I would not count on it, Miss Elizabeth,” he quipped.

  They silently moved through the next dance together, again in a harmony that Elizabeth could not help but notice. Afterwards, they watched as first Lydia and Mr Bingley and then Jane and Mr Goulding went down the dance. Elizabeth remembered the nearly equal excitement and anticipation her two sisters felt while preparing for the ball, though Lydia vocalised it far more. Now, how differently they appeared in visage. Lydia’s usual vivacity dimmed with her disappointment, though Mr Bingley’s jovial spirit could do naught but cheer her a bit. Jane, on the other hand, veritably glowed in happiness.

  “I wonder, Mr Darcy, had you known the repercussions that would follow from your first interference into my family’s romantic affairs, would you have so readily agreed to assist me?” He turned to her in question, and she added simply, “Jane and Mr Bingley.”

  “Yes, of course I would,” he assured her with some degree of surprise in his voice.

  “But I am sure expectations for his prospects were…a bit higher.”

  “Those concerns are of little consequence now. I could never disapprove of anything or anyone that brings such felicity to my friend.”

  She wondered whether he had ever voiced concerns about Jane’s low connexions and meagre fortune to Mr Bingley. Surely Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst had done so. No matter—there could be little question as to Mr Bingley’s intentions after tonight. “I have never seen Jane happier either,” she said fondly. “I could never tell an adequate number of amusing tales to repay the service you rendered there, intentional or not.”

  “You give yourself too little credit.”

  She puzzled over his ambiguous reply as the dance ended, and he offered her his arm. They met up with Jane and Gus Goulding, Lydia and Mr Bingley, and Mary and Mr Collins. Lydia’s questioning look moved from Elizabeth, who nodded, to Mr Darcy, who smiled and bowed slightly. Lydia beamed in response.

  * * *

  Elizabeth wished for a sudden loss of hearing, situated as she was at the dinner table between her mother and her cousin. Better yet, she wished each of her voluble neighbours would suffer sudden (but temporary, she supposed) laryngitis.

  Ever since Mrs Bennet’s outrageous statements about Mr Darcy’s…attire, Elizabeth had attempted to avoid her mother lest she might hear more. When they sat down to supper, therefore, she considered it a most unlucky perverseness that placed them within one of each other, but deeply was she relieved to find her mother talking to Lady Lucas of nothing else but her expectation that Jane would be soon married to Mr Bingley. Thank goodness the pair was already in a formal courtship, otherwise Mrs Bennet’s bragging would be excessively premature and tasteless indeed.

  It was an animating subject, and Mrs Bennet seemed incapable of fatigue while enumerating the advantages of the match. Mr Bingley being such a charming young man and so rich and living but three miles from them were the first points of self-congratulation. It was, moreover, such a promising thing for her younger daughters, as Jane’s marrying so greatly must throw them in the way of other rich men. This last observation was accompanied, much to Elizabeth’s horror, by a pointed look at Mr Darcy. She finally ended her commentary with a significant look towards Mr Collins and Elizabeth. “And I am certain my other daughters will follow Jane into similarly advantageous marriages, some sooner than others.” She winked at Lady Lucas.

  Directly to Elizabeth’s right—for cruel fate did not afford her the shield of even one other body there—sat Mr Collins. The only lucky circumstance in the seating arrangements, though luck probably had nothing to do with it, was that dear Charlotte sat to Mr Collins’s right and thus occupied the parson for some of the time. Had Elizabeth been sitting near someone with whom she wanted to converse, Charlotte’s distraction would have been even more appreciated. As it was, Elizabeth would take whatever relief she could get.

  She tried to let her mind wander, thinking back to her last dance partner, Captain Carter, who currently sat next to Lydia some distance down the table. He and Mr Collins had exchanged their supper set partners before taking seats. Lydia might perhaps now regret her hasty accession to the substitution, for though she would have been forced to sit next to Mr Collins, she would also be in closer proximity to Mr Darcy. Mr Darcy…

  Elizabeth pushed the distracting thought away and tried to think about her dance with Captain Carter. But, although enjoyable enough, their dance had been completely unremarkable. So she thought about her dance partner prior to the last one, Gussy Goulding. Despite his reputation for clumsiness earned through a propensity towards sometimes disfiguring injuries during his awkward adolescence, he actually danced better than Mr Collins. But again, that dance left her with nothing worth pondering now, even if her toes did survive the set unscathed. Gus was currently chatting amiably with everyone around him while seated next to Charlotte on the far side and almost directly across from Mr Darcy. Mr Darcy…

  “Dearest Cousin, are you quite well?”

  Elizabeth was almost happy to have her train of thought interrupted by Mr Collins’s inquiry. But she realised she had been unconsciously staring at Mr Darcy across the table. She could not look away fast enough now, even as she blushed at his questioning gaze.

  “Forgive me, Mr Collins. My mind was elsewhere. What did you say?”

  “I just remarked on my success in dancing with each of my fair cousins tonight. Now that my duty, however pleasant it was, is fulfilled, I can give way to my…fancy for future dances.”

  The chances of Elizabeth enjoying the remainder of the ball were very grim indeed. She took a spoonful of white soup. How best to reply?

  “Mr Collins,” said Mr Darcy, speaking for the first time during the meal. “My aunt mentioned a new phaeton in the letter you kindly delivered to me tonight. Have you seen it?”

  “Indeed, I have, Mr Darcy. It is a splendid conveyance, I assure you, perfectly suited to Lady Catherine’s elevated rank…”

  Charlotte leaned back in her chair to peer at Elizabeth behind Mr Collins and then smirked. How Elizabeth wished to speak with her! At least Elizabeth was again free of Mr Collins’s attentions for the rest of the meal. The same
could not be said of Mr Darcy, however.

  When supper was over, the dancing resumed. Mr Denny approached Elizabeth, reminding her of their promised dance, and she was only too happy to escape Mr Collins for another half hour. Upon the conclusion of the dance, she indicated a wish to speak with Charlotte, and Mr Denny obligingly escorted her towards her friend, but they were intercepted by Mr Collins.

  “Dearest Cousin, you are a superior dancer. Might I have the honour of the next with you?”

  As Mr Denny bowed to them and moved away, Elizabeth considered her options. The very notion of dancing again with Mr Collins made her toes cry out in protest. “I thank you, but I fear I might overstrain my healed ankle by dancing anymore tonight.”

  His alarm was great. “Cousin Elizabeth! How very thoughtless of me! Allow me to assist you. You simply must be seated.”

  When she was seated, in vain did she entreat him to stand up with someone else. He assured her that as to dancing, he was perfectly indifferent; that his chief object was to recommend himself to her, and that he should therefore make a point of remaining close to her the whole evening. “But sir, you must at least dance with Charlotte. The Lucases are very important friends to us at Longbourn, and you know Charlotte is particularly dear to me.”

  “If this pleases you, I shall be very happy to dance with Miss Lucas.” He left her to approach Charlotte, and Elizabeth felt not a little guilt at subjecting her poor friend’s toes to such a punishment. But this might be the last half hour she would have to herself.

  As the dancers took their places, Mr Darcy approached. Her astonishment was great when he applied for her hand again. “I am very sorry, Mr Darcy, but I cannot dance again tonight.”

  He looked down at her feet. “Have you reinjured your ankle? Do you require assistance?”

  “No, although just a few moments ago, I did use my ankle as an excuse to forego another dance with Mr Collins. A sincere concern for my toes actually prompted my refusal. Either way, I am not at liberty to dance any more tonight.”

  She thought she might be rewarded with a smile, but instead he said gravely, “Then I wish I had asked you five minutes earlier. I trust you will still be able to take your morning walks?”

  “Oh yes, refraining from dancing is just a precaution against further injury, you see. At least that will be my explanation should anyone question my intent to walk.” She paused. “Besides, I shall not try to walk tomorrow after our late night. I shall be quite ready to do so on the day following, however.”

  He nodded, saying nothing more. She looked towards the line of dancers and saw Lydia standing up with Henry Long.

  “Mr Darcy, I wonder whether I might ask a favour of you tonight.” He waited. “Lydia prepared for tonight’s ball in a fairly unusual way. She read two books in the last week. Well, one and three-quarters, if truth be told.”

  “In preparation for a ball?”

  “Yes, you see, she deduced, reasonably so, that the likeliest way to tempt you to speak is to discuss literature.”

  He smirked. “I see.”

  “She asked me for advice on how to become more…of an authority on literary works. I recommended two books and offered to discuss them with her before the ball. In exchange, I extracted a promise that she would read at least two more books after the ball. Whatever her motivation, I most heartily approve of her desire to improve her mind through reading. Do you not agree?”

  “Of course. What, then, is the favour you ask?”

  “I fear if she fails in her efforts, she will be discouraged, not to mention, terribly disappointed. Would it be too much trouble for you to speak with her tonight? About books, I mean?” She felt foolish the moment the words were spoken.

  “I do owe Miss Lydia my thanks. Perhaps I might ask her to dance the next?”

  “Oh! She would surely be overjoyed if you do, but I would urge caution in giving her too much encouragement.”

  “I shall be encouraging in a brotherly sort of way. I excel at brotherly encouragement.” He grinned, complete with dimples.

  She laughed. “As Lydia has no brother, let us hope she recognises it as such. I must further caution you not to smile at her like that.”

  His brow furrowed as the dimples disappeared. Elizabeth was sorry she had said anything. “My sister always tells me I ought to smile more.”

  “Well, yes, but not if you wish to escape the notice of the fairer sex. Remember when I told you that every smirk is like some hard-won prize? Imagine what a flash of those dimples means to a young lady.”

  He looked rather stunned and pink around the cheeks. But this was nothing to Elizabeth’s full blush after realising what she had said. The aforementioned dimples really did have quite an effect, making her say aloud all manner of idiotic things.

  The fluttering of a handkerchief above the crowd caught Elizabeth’s attention. She knew who was attached to that handkerchief.

  “Mr Darcy, I did not apologise for my mother’s earlier behaviour, but I think the best way to make amends is to warn you that she now comes this way. Perhaps you had better go back to haunting the edges of the room.”

  He did not need to be told twice. The urgency of the situation was quite apparent to him. “Thank you, Miss Elizabeth. Though I regret our conversation must be cut short, I quite agree with you.”

  He bowed to her and strode away, leaving Elizabeth alone to answer when her mother exclaimed, “Lizzy, why is Mr Collins dancing with Charlotte Lucas? Why are you not dancing with him? Where did Mr Darcy go?”

  Elizabeth silently lamented the very poor prospect that she might enjoy the rest of the evening. At least Jane and Lydia would be happy, and Kitty was perfectly happy as well. She could not tell whether Mary enjoyed herself or not. But beyond all this, and beyond worries about Mr Collins, Elizabeth could not help but think upon her next morning walk with anticipation. Where had all her caution gone? She lost it somewhere during her third dance, no doubt.

  Lydia was not enjoying the ball at Netherfield. No, that was not entirely true. She was enjoying herself—after all, she had been asked to dance every set so far, and Denny, Saunderson, Pratt, and Chamberlayne were such good fun. But she had hardly even spoken to Mr Darcy. He had danced three sets tonight: one with Charlotte Lucas, one with Lizzy, and the next with Jane. But then he retreated to the edges of the room, skipping the supper set entirely. Lydia was sure of this because she caught glimpses of him during her miserable dance with Mr Collins. Luckily, she escaped her cousin just before the meal, sitting instead with Captain Carter and the jolly collection of officers she, Kitty, and Maria so enjoyed. She did not even mind terribly that Mary King, ghastly freckles and all, had somehow ingratiated herself into their group.

  When everyone had finished eating, Henry Long approached and asked her for a set. (Drat! Another set claimed, and still no closer to her goal!) He then proceeded to ask Maria and Kitty for subsequent sets. His bashful, stammering request revealed that the third of the three young ladies was his real object of admiration. He was a good sort of boy, just a few months older than Kitty, all lanky arms and legs. Kitty was completely insensible to young Mr Long’s preference, and Lydia decided it best her sister remain uninformed until after the promised dance. Kitty tended to blurt out the most bizarre things when nervous. Within the past hour, she had tried to compliment Mrs Hurst’s feathers, saying they must have been plucked from the tail of a sizeable bird. Lord, how Lydia and Maria had laughed! Mrs Hurst only trembled in indignation, making those very feathers quiver on her head.

  The assembled guests moved back into the ballroom, and the musicians readied their instruments. Lydia danced her promised set with Captain Carter. She tried to spy Mr Darcy but could not find him. When the set was over, she saw her mother and Aunt Philips nearby.

  “Mama,” she said after Captain Carter delivered her to Mrs Bennet, “have you seen Mr Darcy?”

  “No, my dear Lydia, not since supper. Has he not asked you to dance yet? Teasing man! Perhaps he thinks you
are too occupied by the officers. You must separate yourself from them, agreeable as they are, for a little while at least.”

  “Yes, perhaps I shall.” Lydia scanned the crowd for a tall, well-dressed figure. “If Jane and Mr Bingley were more inclined towards conversation tonight, I would stay near them in the hopes of intercepting Mr Darcy.”

  “Dear Jane! She has caught Mr Bingley, I am certain of it! You must not bother them. If I do see Mr Darcy, I shall raise up my handkerchief like so to catch your attention.” Mrs Bennet demonstrated the signal while Aunt Philips nodded in approval.

  Lydia proceeded to answer any number of silly questions about her dance partners and her meal. Mrs Bennet seemed to be a bit in her cups, with her cheeks red and her handkerchief raised every now and then to cover her hiccups just a moment too late.

  “I knew you would be asked to dance every set! With your agreeable temperament, who can resist you? And Mrs Long has the impudence to boast of her nieces’ success tonight! As if those two could hold a candle to any of my girls!”

  Henry Long came to claim his dance, and Lydia hoped he had not heard Mrs Bennet going on about his family so. They danced and chatted together. Lydia learned that he would go off to Oxford next fall.

  “Are you looking forward to it very much? To leaving here and seeing something beyond Meryton?”

  “Not particularly. I should much rather stay with my friends. Though I know I ought to be grateful for the opportunity, I cannot imagine spending so much time reading what was written by dead men in dead languages.”

  Lydia laughed. “Make sure to tell Kitty that when you dance with her. She will agree with you.”

  Some alarm crossed his face, and then he smiled, embarrassed. Lydia could only laugh again and shake her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a fluttering hankie above the crowd. Her attention immediately fixed on the tall man whose presence elicited this signal. He was speaking to Elizabeth; Lydia watched as he quickly strode away. She lost him in the crowd, but when she found him again, she was surprised to see him looking right at her. When would this dance end?