Page 11 of Heiress of Longbourn (Pride and Prejudice Variations)
Netherfield Ball
Elizabeth had danced the cotillion many times before, and while her own feet made their way without difficulty, the same could not be said of one gentleman and one lady in their circle, who kept misstepping, which required everyone else in the group to adjust accordingly. It was thus a frustrating half hour, and she was relieved when the music came to an end. She clapped, and her partner clapped, and then held out his arm and said, “Miss Elizabeth, might I fetch you some punch?”
“No thank you, Mr. Alexander, though I would like to sit next to my friend Charlotte Lucas, who is sitting near the vase of red roses,” she said. She then added, with a rueful smile, “I hope you were not too distressed by the poor footwork of some of my neighbors. It was most unlike them!”
Alexander grinned and said, “I am not distressed in the least, as I am quite confident I am at fault.”
“You?” she asked, halting to stare up into her companion’s face. “Why?”
“Because most people have never seen identical twins before. When George and I are together, especially upon first acquaintance, many individuals find themselves disconcerted.”
Elizabeth looked around and noticed that yes, a great many eyes were on her partner, and she shook her head as they began walking again. “Is it hard to have so many people stare at one?”
“When I was younger, yes, but I am used to it now,” the clergyman said and came to a halt as Charlotte, who had sat out the previous dance, rose to her feet. “Miss Elizabeth, would you do me the honor of introducing me to this fair lady?”
“Of course. Charlotte, Mr. Alexander Wickham. Mr. Wickham, Miss Lucas.”
The gentleman bowed and the lady curtsied, and the former said, “Miss Lucas, might I have the honor of the next set?”
Charlotte, who was rarely asked to dance, blushed and said, “Thank you, Mr. Wickham. I would be honored.”
At this moment, Mr. Darcy appeared at Elizabeth’s side and said, “Miss Lucas, Miss Elizabeth, Mr. Wickham, good evening.”
Again, there were bows and curtsies, and Mr. Alexander said, “Good evening, Mr. Darcy. I hope you are well?”
“Very well,” Darcy said, and turned to Elizabeth. “Miss Elizabeth, would you do me the honor of dancing the set after next?”
That was the supper set, and Elizabeth could not help but be astonished, but she said, “Thank you, I would be honored.”
The master of Pemberley left abruptly, and a few moments later, Charlotte and Mr. Alexander departed for the dance floor, and Elizabeth found herself alone for a full minute before her mother anxiously took the now vacant seat next to her.
“Lizzy! Has Mr. Bingley asked you to dance?” Mrs. Bennet demanded.
Elizabeth compressed her lips and shook her head. “No, Mamma, he has not.”
“Well, my dear,” the lady said, looking her daughter up and down critically, “perhaps we need to purchase another evening gown for you, one with a lower neckline. After all, many a gentleman has been enticed by …”
“Mamma!” Elizabeth interrupted, her cheeks warming with embarrassment. “Please! Mr. Bingley is not interested me and never will be, and more than that, I am not in the least interested in him!”
The mistress of Longbourn turned horrified eyes on her second born. “What are you speaking of, Lizzy? If Mr. Bingley turns his attention on you, you will accept him!”
“I will not,” Elizabeth returned flatly, and then, noting her mother’s expression of outrage, gestured toward the dance floor. “But he will not, Mother. Just look at Jane and Mr. Bingley. They obviously are so happy together!”
Mrs. Bennet turned a despairing face on her eldest child, who was indeed smiling gloriously at Mr. Bingley, moaned, and said, “Why did Jane have to be so very beautiful? I cannot entirely blame Mr. Bingley, but oh, why were you not blessed … not to say you are plain, because you are not, Lizzy, but sadly, I must confess that Jane is even more beautiful than you are.”
Elizabeth patted her mother’s hand, caught between irritation and sympathy. “Mamma, pray do not fret. Mr. Bingley obviously admires Jane, but there is no reason to think he will offer for her. He is already five and twenty and has never offered for a woman before. Perhaps he is merely flirting with the most handsome woman in the area!”
This was not precisely a lie. The master of Netherfield had only been in the area for some weeks, and Elizabeth knew nothing of his former way of life. Perhaps he was a flirt, though she hoped not, as Jane was falling in love more and more every day. Nor did she think Bingley was the sort of man to focus so much attention on a lady unless he possessed a genuine interest. But her mother needed soothing, so…
“You are correct, my dear,” Mrs. Bennet said, obviously relaxing. “Perhaps I am worrying about nothing at all.”
***
Later
Darcy glided through a simple country reel without thought, the movements second nature, drilled into him years ago by a strict dancing master and never forgotten no matter how rarely Darcy chose to stand up. It was just as well that the dance did not require much of his attention, for most of it was devoted to glaring menacingly at George Wickham. The wretch had enough sense to avoid Darcy, at least, slithering around the edges of the ballroom and asking all the prettiest girls to dance with careful flattery and charm.
Along with the usual revulsion at the presence of his former friend, Darcy was uneasy about Wickham’s residence in the area. What might he say about the Darcys? What malicious rumors and lies might he drop into the eager ears of these plain rustic folk? What might he whisper of Georgiana, seeing the innocent girl as an easy path to destroy her brother, with no care for the damage to her own reputation and prospects?
Darcy wondered if he ought to start considering a more permanent solution. He held the receipts of many of George Wickham’s debts. He could send him to prison for life, if he so chose. It would, perhaps, be best for everyone…
No. He shook off such thoughts. He would not let George ruin this dance for him. He was dancing with Miss Elizabeth, and he would enjoy it. He had easily the most delightful partner in the room, and she was breathtaking. She was smiling brightly, her eyes sparkling with joy, clearly enjoying the dance. A handful of curls bounced becomingly around her face, the rest of her lovely hair pulled up into a bun on the back of her head. The lace along her neckline and sleeves accentuated, rather than hid, the graceful lines of her neck and arms.
The familiar guilt niggled at the pit of Darcy’s stomach. He really ought not be dancing with her. He had a reputation to maintain, a family name to honor. He was flirting with danger by spending this sort of time with a member of the lower gentry, no matter how enchanting she was. His intended purpose – to recover from his fascination with her – was not being accomplished at all. Indeed, his infatuation kept growing.
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said, interrupting his thoughts, “What do you think of Netherfield? Is it very different from Pemberley in terms of climate and land?”
Darcy blinked and smiled at his partner. He always had trouble speaking on the dance floor, but he could talk about soils all day long!
“It is rather different. Hertfordshire is sufficiently farther south that it is noticeably warmer, and the terrain of Netherfield is gentler than that of Pemberley. Derbyshire has many steep hills and…”
The rest of the dance was thoroughly pleasant, as the conversation shifted from land and livestock to the glories of the Lakes, which Darcy had visited and Miss Elizabeth had not. When the set came to an end, the master of Pemberley guided his partner into the dining room, which was set up with numerous tables, with servants moving to and fro with bottles of wine and baskets of rolls.
“Would you like to sit next to your mother, Miss Elizabeth?” Darcy asked, determined to be gracious to his partner.
He did not think he imagined the ensuing shudder, and she shook her head decidedly and said, “No, thank you. Might we sit with Jane and Charlotte, perhaps?”
The two ladies in question were on the other side of the room from Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, and their partners were Mr. Bingley and the younger Mr. Wickham. Darcy felt a spurt of alarm at the sight of that familiar face and then relaxed as his thoughts caught up with his emotions. It must be Alexander, as evidenced by his sober blue coat, and he thoroughly enjoyed spending time with his old friend. As for the elder twin, a quick glance about showed that George was in the opposite corner of the room with a cluster of other redcoats, and a few young women – among whom were the two youngest Misses Bennet – were gathered around them.
Darcy and Miss Elizabeth were welcomed with pleasure to the table, and the supper conversation was congenial. The discussion ranged from Mr. Wickham’s parish to the difference between Town and country life, and then to food, and then to Vingt-un and Commerce. Darcy listened more than he spoke, but was genuinely satisfied with his company, even more than he had imagined when contemplating this ball.
“I hope the food is to your liking, Mr. Darcy?” a cloying voice asked from his right side, and he slewed around in surprise to see Miss Bingley, dripping in jewels, with a befeathered hat on her head, leaning slightly over to display her décolletage.
“Yes,” he replied, though repressively. “It is excellent.”
“It is, Caroline,” Bingley said with a grin. “You have done a wonderful job. The food could not be better.”
“It could not,” Miss Bennet agreed immediately, her cornflower blue eyes fixed on her hostess. “Moreover, the selection of music, and the flowers – this is truly the loveliest ball I have ever been to!”
“Why thank you, Miss Bennet,” Miss Bingley said, openly preening. “Of course, it is nothing compared to the balls in Town, but I am sure you have not had the chance to attend any. It is well enough for the country.”
Darcy stiffened at these undoubtedly rude words, but Miss Elizabeth merely smiled and said, “I suppose in Town, the parties are larger and fancier, but I find this ball particularly enjoyable because we have many of our neighbors attending, along with new friends. We truly are very happy that you and your family are settled here, Miss Bingley.”
Darcy bit his lip in amusement at the irritation on Miss Bingley’s face. There was little she could say in response except to thank her guest, which she did, before swanning off in the other direction.
When the party rose to continue dancing, Darcy found himself disappointed, both with the end of a genuinely pleasurable dinner, and because he was due to dance next with Miss Bingley.