Page 44 of Such Persuasions as These (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

“ H ave you seen Lydia?” Kitty asked in a huff just as the musicians were signalling the start of their first piece.

The ballroom of Netherfield was teeming, and the excitement of the starting set had caused the throng to stir in every direction as dancers lined up, and those who did not dance made their way to the fringes of the room.

“She is probably standing up with one of the officers,” Elizabeth answered hurriedly, her eyes and thoughts on the man walking towards her. Before Kitty could protest, Mr Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand and led her to their place on the floor.

Looking down the line, Elizabeth was gratified to see Jane and Bingley opening the dance together and Mary accompanied by Mr Collins as well.

Beholding Mr Darcy across from her, she became overcome with joy.

Rather than dissolving into tears, however, Elizabeth was seized by an impulse to tease her beloved, to shower him with impertinence and watch as he drank it in .

She began by casting him an investigative eye.

“What is it that fixates you so?” he enquired, apparently delighted at being the target of her perusal.

“Oh,” she began as if she did not realise she was looking at him so intently. “I suppose I was just attempting to sketch your character.”

“And how do you get on?”

“I do not get on at all,” she answered with a feigned sigh. “I must confess, I was rather surprised to have you request my first set. It is quite the distinction, you know.”

“Why should you be surprised?” he teased her back. “Should one wonder that I wish to dance with the handsomest woman in the room?”

The dance separated the two smiling partners, then brought them together again directly. She parried, “I seem to remember getting the impression that you were not so interested in my company last time we spoke. How very mercurial of you, Mr Darcy.”

He answered this accusation with a momentary wince of pain, but her continued playful demeanour assured him that she was not truly holding this against him.

“Mercurial, Miss Bennet?” he finally said, awaiting her explanation with complaisance.

“Why, yes. I was under the impression that your good opinion once lost was lost forever. Yet, here we are,” she paused as they passed about another couple.

Arching an eyebrow, she added, “I did not think you so… inconstant .”She attempted to purse her lips severely, but the merry dimple peeking out from her cheek betrayed her.

“I hate to disappoint you, Miss Elizabeth,” he began, mirroring her jovial manner. She had hoped he would play along in her verbal swordplay, and this was just what she could have wished. “I am afraid you have misread the situation entirely, and it has led you to erroneous conclusions.”

“Is that so? Pray, enlighten me,” she glittered.

“You assume that I have lost my good opinion of you. Though it may have seemed so, that could not be further from the truth. I, myself, was labouring under a misguided presumption, and it had the unfortunate effect of creating an obstacle to our friendship. For this, I sincerely apologise.”

“Apology accepted,” she said and in such good timing that her words were uttered just as the dance called for a gracious curtsey on her part. As the second song began, she added, “So, you are not inconstant as a rule, then?”

“I am not,” he answered earnestly. “My friendship, my regard, my affections, once I give them, I hope I can be counted on to be constant in them.” At this claim, he peered into her face with a sincerity that caused her to miss a step in the choreography.

A moment later saw them at the end of the line, and he escorted her to the side of the dancers, bringing his body closer to hers than the dance had allowed before continuing, “I have chosen to make very few promises in my life, Miss Elizabeth, but when I do, I strive to live up to them.” She could not speak.

He added, “My heart is constant, and I must confess to you now, it has long been?—”

“Darcy.” The sound of Frederick’s voice caused Mr Darcy’s face to fly up, halting his speech.

Her old friend grabbed her partner by the arm and whispered fervently into his ear, causing the gentleman’s eyebrows to rise in shock and then furrow in obvious dismay.

He cast Elizabeth a look of regret before excusing himself in haste .

At that moment, Mr Collins and Mary took themselves from among the dancers, the exercise apparently overtaxing the parson.

Mary, the one whom this frailty should be expected to affect the most, was unperturbed, preferring, as she always had, to play for dancers rather than join them.

The fact that he was a fumbling oaf of a partner, constantly missing steps and apologising to all about him, thus missing further steps, did not seem to bother her.

Mary had simply tapped him on the shoulder to remind him where he was and what he was expected to do, and he had fallen in line.

A very agreeable situation for both of them , Elizabeth thought.

“I say, was not that Mr Darcy I saw dancing with you?” Mr Collins asked after catching his breath.

“Ah, yes, he was called away. It seems there was an emergency of some kind, and only he could assist,” she answered, attempting to conceal her resentment.

“Oh yes, I can believe it. Why, Lady Catherine relies on him for simply everything. I understand he visits her every spring to care for the household matters at Rosings. And why should he not look after her interests? For indeed, they shall become his own soon enough.”

“Does Mr Darcy look forward to inheriting Rosings? Has Lady Catherine not an heir? I understood you to say she had a daughter to whom it would be left,” Elizabeth enquired, uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation.

“Yes, Miss Anne de Bourgh, heiress of Rosings and very extensive property. She is a jewel, the brightest ornament, whose true beauty is far superior to the handsomest of her sex, because there is that in her features which marks a young woman of distinguished birth. Which, of course, makes Mr Darcy a very fortunate man indeed. ”

“I suppose he is fortunate,” Elizabeth offered, unsure, “to have such an exceptional cousin.”

“As am I,” the parson said with a besotted grin as he took Mary’s hand once again and bowed over it.

Then, in an exultant aside, he added, “I only hope I shall have such felicity with my own cousin as Mr Darcy shall have with his. Just think what a match that will be. Two glorious persons and two glorious fortunes.” Then, with a titter, he turned back to his fair partner and entreated her to rejoin the dance.

Elizabeth stared after them, blinking. Do I understand correctly? Mr Darcy is to marry Miss Anne de Bourgh?

The room began to spin. The twinkling of the candles, the melange of odours, the movement of the dance, and the warmth of the crowd began to play on her senses. Elizabeth felt suddenly faint. Grabbing the arm of the nearest person, she asked that he might assist her to a chair.

The music went silent in her ears as she heard Darcy’s words again, ‘My heart is constant, and I must confess, it has long been—It has long been engaged elsewhere.

It has long been the property of my superior cousin.

It has long been attached to one of distinguished birth and excelling worth, whose great fortune I very much wish to add to my own.

Looking up, she saw that the concerned and ever-amiable Sir William Lucas was her willing crutch, and he carried out her request with utmost care.

After the set ended, Jane and Bingley noted her absence and made their way to her.

They found Sir William looming, a glass of wine in hand, ready to bring to her lips.

They relieved him of this duty, for he was presently being hailed by a young officer.

Elizabeth was mortified. She could feel her cheeks aflame and only hoped Darcy would not walk in just at this moment to see her in such a state.

As the minutes went by, she regained a measure of equanimity and was able to tell Jane she was well, to go back to the dance, and that she only needed a bit of quiet away from the crowd.

Jane reluctantly acceded, and Elizabeth made her way out of the grand ballroom.