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E lizabeth squeezed into a chair between Mary and Kitty. It wasn’t quite where she wished to be, but anything was better than having Mr. Collins overflowing a chair beside her. She shuddered in disgust at the thought.

Mama’s cries of delight grated on her ears, and Jane was beside her, trapped by her joy. Elizabeth glanced round. She supposed Mr. Bingley had gone to Papa to ask for his blessing on the betrothal. Once he returned, Elizabeth would try to go to Papa’s book room and stay where it was quieter.

She wondered why Mr. Darcy and Mr. Collins were slower at entering the house. It was quite certain that Mr. Darcy could not want to have an extended conversation with her cousin, and she tried to conceal her smile.

She didn’t understand in the least why he had engaged Mr. Collins in conversation, but she was very grateful that he had made the attempt.

Perhaps she ought to thank him, given that she’d felt he was rude and disdainful at first.

At first? …. When had she changed her mind about him, she wondered? And she must own that he had been very civil indeed when congratulating both Jane and his friend on their betrothal.

She hid a smile; there had been no sign of disapproval on his features.

The gentleman himself entered the room at that point, his face like thunder, and Elizabeth had to lift her hand to cover her smile. He checked on observing her and looked suspicious, but Mr. Collins was also pushing his way into the room.

“Cousin Elizabeth! You ought not to be sitting over there! Come, join me here. We must have some conversation.”

“Perhaps later, Mr. Collins.” Elizabeth saw no reason to warm her tone, and turned at once to Mary.

“Do you think Mama has thought of the practicalities of the wedding celebrations she’s planning? Most of them seem quite contradictory.” Her tone was low enough to be inaudible to others in the room, and Mary smothered her smile.

“Whatever keeps her occupied, Lizzy. At least she’s not trying to make you encourage Mr. Collins at this moment.”

Elizabeth looked at her curiously. “What do you feel about him?” she murmured.

Mary shrugged. “I had thought a clergyman would be a good match for me. But Mr. Collins is dreadful. Don’t let Mama make you marry him, Lizzy. I couldn’t bear it for any of us.”

“I have no intention of even letting him make an offer, Mary. But … he might then turn his attentions to you. Would you be strong enough to stand up against Mama?”

“Certainly. But he would not look at me.” Mary shuddered. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’m embarrassed just observing it — it must make you feel almost violated.”

Elizabeth shivered. “You’re right. I’ll speak to Papa again, although he did say he thought keeping Mr. Collins’ attention on me would keep him away from the rest of you — and I know he won’t make me accept the offer.”

“Cousin Elizabeth!” Their cousin’s loud voice rose over the room. “You are being very disagreeable, leaving the rest of us outside the conversation!”

Elizabeth glared at him before trying to moderate her temper.

She didn’t wish to spoil Jane’s memories of the day.

“I am sure you cannot object to me speaking to any of my sisters, sir.” She smiled sweetly at him, knowing he would miss the venom in her gaze.

“But if you insist, what conversation would that be?”

Lydia cut across his answer. “Mr. Bingley! You must hold a ball at Netherfield to celebrate your engagement. It would be a fine thing to do, to prove to Jane that you’re happy she has agreed to marry you.”

“No, Lydia,” Jane remonstrated gently. “Mr. Bingley does not need to do so. I believe he is very happy.”

Mr. Bingley hadn’t stopped beaming since he’d entered the room after speaking to Papa, and Elizabeth found her own expression relaxing. He turned to her sister.

“Miss Bennet, I think it a wonderful idea. Pray permit me to hold a ball in your honour.”

Jane flushed, and Elizabeth’s lips twitched.

She glanced at Mr. Darcy, and looked away hurriedly. He was staring at her with great intensity, looking stern.

Why did he disapprove of her? Elizabeth joined in the discussions of the forthcoming ball, while trying to think what Mr. Darcy had taken offence to.

Perhaps he didn’t like the presence of Mr. Collins, and had only happened to be looking at her. Elizabeth frowned. It was silly to think like that. At least Father could be reassured when she wrote to tell him of that haughty gentleman’s opinion of her.

But the ball was being discussed. It seemed to be a settled thing, and Elizabeth was horrified when Mr. Collins stood and leaned over the table, leering at her.

“My fair cousin, may I solicit your hand for the first two dances?” He smirked oilily, and Elizabeth recoiled.

“Mr. Collins, Papa will not like me to dance two dances with a gentleman when there is no engagement. I suppose you must take the first, as I would not like to sit out the whole evening, so I cannot refuse.” She glanced over at Mr. Bingley.

“No one will object to you as an engaged gentleman dancing two dances with Jane, Mr. Bingley.” She determinedly kept her gaze away from Mr. Collins, who was huffing with discontent.

But the surprises of the evening were not over. Mr. Darcy had risen to his feet and was looking with contempt at Mr. Collins. He turned to her and bowed.

“Miss Elizabeth, if dances are already being requested for the ball, may I have the honour of the supper dance?”

She realised her mouth had dropped open, and shut it with a snap. What will Father think of that? “You wish to dance the supper dance with me?”

“I do.” He didn’t look any happier than she felt, but she had to say something.

She smiled mechanically and dipped her head. “Of course, Mr. Darcy.” How could she refuse in a crowded room? But Father would never let her dance with him. He would call her back to London before the ball.

She rose to her feet. “Excuse me,” she said to no one in particular. She must speak to Papa.

As she left the room, she heard Mr. Bingley soliciting the first and the supper dance with Jane, and then turn his attention to the rest of her sisters.