Page 42 of Obligation and Redemption

“No,” said Darcy, “I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper, I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding, certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon as I ought, or their offences against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost forever.”

“That is a failing indeed!” cried Elizabeth. “Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I really cannot laugh at it.” She thought of Mr. Wickham’s being the object of his resentment, and her heart went out to him.

“There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil, a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome,” said he.

“And your defect is a propensity to hate everybody.”

“And yours is wilfully to misunderstand them.” He looked away before continuing, “Certainly, there are other forms of entertainment on a dance floor than discussing the faults of each other’s dance partner.”

“We have tried speaking upon two or three subjects already without success, and what we could talk of next I cannot imagine. Perhaps we can now give our attention to the steps of the dance.” Instead of focusing on the dance, however, Elizabeth could not keep her mind from wandering to the handsome gentleman whom she had given a piece of her heart most unwillingly.

Mr. Darcy had all but admitted that he held on to resentment; Mr. Wickham would forever remain in his disfavour, without recourse.

Elizabeth was relieved that he had not shown up, for the risk of his attempting to communicate with her in front of Mr. Darcy was too great.

Regardless, she was saddened that she might never see Mr. Wickham again, and she knew that she would always remember him with fond regret.

During one of the lulls in the movement, Elizabeth noticed that her sister Mary was dancing with her own fiancé.

Poor Mary, who rarely put herself forward to be asked to dance, looked embarrassed by his missteps and poor timing.

Mr. Collins seemed to be stepping on more toes than just Mary’s.

Darcy noticed the display as well. Elizabeth felt his judgement of Mr. Collins’s clumsy execution fall to her own family.

Elizabeth could do nothing about Mr. Collins, but be grateful that she had not been obligated to marry that man instead.

Her salvation stood in front of her, but she could not appreciate him as Mr. Darcy gave her his austere stare; so she held her head high, steadily regarding him until it was again their time to join in the promenade.

The dance finally came to an end, and Darcy led Elizabeth to the side of the room where stood her friend, Charlotte, who had been obliged to sit out the first set of the evening.

Bingley and Jane also arrived so that Bingley might claim his formerly requested dance from the guest of honour, Elizabeth.

Darcy knew his duty and so invited Jane to dance with him, thus leaving Charlotte alone to sit out the second set.

As they were walking away, Elizabeth turned back to see Jane being led to the floor by Darcy, yet Charlotte left alone.

Mr. Bingley also turned, happy to see that his friend had been kind enough to ask Miss Bennet to dance, but noticed that Elizabeth did not share his satisfaction.

He said, “Miss Elizabeth, you do not look happy that Darcy has asked your sister to dance, unless I am mistaken. ”

She smiled at his perceptiveness. “No, I am happy that he has taken this opportunity to ask her. I am just sorry to see my friend, Miss Lucas, again without a partner. I guess I had hoped he might request a dance from her instead, since Jane has just finished one.”

“I would be happy to dance with Miss Lucas on the next set. Oh, look, your cousin, Mr. Collins, is asking her.”

“Oh, dear.” Elizabeth recalled the previous dance and felt for her friend.

“Miss Elizabeth, we are all here to enjoy ourselves. Do not be troubled by how others might judge a performance that is not perfect.” Mr. Bingley’s countenance was as sincere as his words, and Elizabeth returned the expression.

“Thank you, sir. You are all that is cordial and a most gracious host. If I have not yet done so, let me take this time to thank you for hosting a ball in honour of my upcoming marriage. Mr. Darcy is fortunate to have you as a friend.” As different as you both are from one another, she might have added.

“No, it is I who am fortunate. His friendship has benefitted me in countless ways, and I am happy to respond to his own generosity towards me.”

By now they were in line and the dance had commenced.

Being the host and she, one of the guests of honour, they were at the head with Jane and Darcy next to them.

Elizabeth longed to ask Mr. Bingley about his understanding of Mr. Darcy’s dealings with Mr. Wickham, but could not ask while in close proximity to the man in question.

Also, she did not want to say something that might make Mr. Bingley uncomfortable, so she just enjoyed the dance while speaking of pleasing topics that always seemed to lead back to the angelic Jane.

Mr. Darcy then danced with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, as he knew to be right, but chose not to dance again until the supper dance with Elizabeth.

He disliked the activity, but understood it to be his duty to ask his hosts.

He noticed throughout the evening that Elizabeth seemed to be enjoying herself immensely, even if he were not.

She accepted every dance and enjoyed all of her partners’ smiles.

He could tell that she was popular amongst the local gentry.

Elizabeth would peek his way on occasion, raising her brow as if to mock him.

Twice he saw her glance at him while giggling to her friend, Miss Lucas.

He despised the frivolity and was certain she was making a joke of him.

After tomorrow, this would be over; he would then exercise his authority.

The one source of amusement came when Mr. Collins requested a dance from her.

The look on Elizabeth’s face when she turned around to see who had tapped her on the shoulder provided Darcy with much entertainment.

Miss Elizabeth’s expressions are so animated; she wears her feelings candidly.

At least in that way, there is no artifice.

Elizabeth had planned on enjoying herself at the ball, and so far her success had been sure, up until Mr. Collins tapped on her shoulder, thus startling her into grief.

Of course, she had to accept. She had avoided him by keeping a full dance card and crossing the room when she would see him approach, but she could no longer evade him, thus she made her way to the line-up.

Elizabeth could see Mr. Darcy smirk as she glanced his way, and she knew that he was enjoying the exhibition.

She found merriment in the follies and foibles of her fellow man, but her mirth was sorely tried when she joined its object, especially when the proud Mr. Darcy watched on quietly laughing at her.

Her only comfort lay in knowing that she had not been the only victim.

The dance finally ended, and Mr. Darcy approached to claim the supper set as previously arranged.

She noticed him smile for likely the first time.

His attractions increased significantly when he looked amused.

Of course, Elizabeth despised the fact that it was at her own expense that he found pleasure, so she was determined he would not see her discomfiture.

In light of her assumptions about his diversion, Elizabeth would have been surprised to learn that Darcy could not help but admire her ability to keep up pretences in spite of her humiliation and had actually found satisfaction in finally relieving her of her mortification.

Their second set proceeded without discord, as they seemed to have reached a truce of sorts.

Elizabeth’s character was not prone to vexation, and she dearly loved to dance.

She had to admit that he was proficient in the art, even if he were silent and brooding.

Darcy also conceded that the attraction of Elizabeth’s smile exceeded the average he had seen, and he could not find fault in her dancing; nonetheless, he had not yet found it within himself to call her handsome.

Since Darcy and Elizabeth danced the supper set, they also were to eat together at the table of honour, along with their hosts and Elizabeth’s father.

Her mother had chosen to sit with the other matrons, so she could spend the time gloating over her triumph in securing two eligible men for her daughters, and most likely a third, if Mr. Bingley’s attentions to her eldest were to be her guide.

Because Bingley had also danced with Jane prior to supper, she joined him in her mother’s place, sitting between her sister and Mr. Bingley.

The conversation was lively, as was usual when Bingley was in attendance; nevertheless, Mr. Darcy remained reticent throughout the meal.

He was courteous to Elizabeth and solicitous to her needs, but it was obvious that his brief gallantry in saving her from her cousin’s footfalls had ended, and he again found no pleasure in bestowing his attention.