Page 28 of The Countess and Her Sister
“I had thought that one for Lizzy,” Lady Augusta said. She pursed her lips and glanced pensively between Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy, and Jane, as they all assiduously pretended not to notice.
Jane examined the pretty blue frock, and Mr. Bingley admired it effusively.
Rebecca thrust the green dress at Elizabeth.
“Pish, let them wear their favorite colors, Mamma. I am sure Lizzy’s shall be the only alteration required, and Jane will be too busy for all that.
I shall see to purchasing masks for us all.
But who is to be Sir Lancelot – is he not the true and noble knight devoted to Guinevere? ”
While Mr. Darcy began to examine his own costume more thoughtfully, Rebecca fairly threw a prop shield and sword at her brother. “You are a military man, Richard.”
Richard gleefully held up the shield bearing Sir Galahad’s crest, a rather fearsome dragon; he gave a swish of the sword and bowed deeply. “Were you not quite my own sister, I am sure I should joust many a tourney for your favor, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth was certain she saw Mr. Darcy momentarily grimace. She blushed, setting her own costume aside to lift the last one out of the trunk. “Mr. Bingley, it appears you shall have the distinction of presenting Merlin.”
“How perfect – my arch-nemesis, and occasional ally,” Rebecca cried with a saucy wink.
Mr. Bingley exclaimed his excitement as he donned the sapphire velvet cloak, which bore silver stars embroidered at the shoulder and along the hood.
He pinned the long, grey false beard about his face and struck a dramatic pose, ready to battle Rebecca.
“Lady Augusta, do tell me I am to have a wizard’s staff! I may require it to vanquish my foes!”
“ Occasional ally, I must remind you,” Lady Rebecca laughed.
Mr. Darcy appeared to enjoy their levity, though he had bristled at the frivolity of the costumes. Elizabeth could not resist the urge to tease him. “If Merlin is to have a wizard’s staff, should not the Lady of the Lake present King Arthur with Excalibur?”
He shook his head with a reluctant chuckle. “I cannot agree that beautiful women presenting fine weapons from the watery depths signifies a sensible foundation for monarchy. At least in the legend wherein Arthur draws the sword from the stone suggests that he has earned his dominion.”
Elizabeth grinned at him. “Indeed an accomplishment.”
They were all very pleased with their costumes, and so too was Lady Thurston on the night of the costumed masquerade.
“How clever of you, Lady Augusta," she cried as she greeted them. “I recall that party, during my very first season! How well your young people look! Lady Rebecca, you are just as lovely as your mother, and Mr. Darcy, you are the very image of your father! But Miss Bennet, what a triumph! Even Lady Anne was not half so lovely as King Arthur’s fair queen!”
Elizabeth felt Jane tense at her side. Jane had happily accepted the blue gown after Mr. Bingley praised it, but Elizabeth had the uneasy sense that her sister must be aware of what Elizabeth herself could not cease to think of.
There was a certain implication in her costume being paired with his; even Mr. Darcy seemed to feel it, and his every gaze at her bespoke his pleasure in their implied union.
Elizabeth would have been obliged to sit the evening out if she had refused Darcy the opening set for the sake of Jane’s discomfort, but happily Mr. Bingley had already claimed Jane’s first dance when Mr. Darcy asked Elizabeth.
Mr. Darcy was perhaps the most superior dancer that she had ever had the pleasure of standing up with, for no gentleman had ever looked at her in such a way.
Elizabeth beamed with elation as he made so free in admiring her.
She had every advantage over her companions, for her gown had been tailored exactly to flatter her, and on a whim she asked for a shimmering, sheer overlay on her skirts and some gold and green vines to be embroidered along the hem and bodice of her sage green and gold costume.
The medieval cut flattered her figure, and her hair had been arranged in a style modeled after an illustration in a book of medieval lore that Mr. Darcy had discovered in his library and sent to Matlock House for the ladies.
Like all the other guests, Elizabeth and Darcy wore masks over the upper portion of their faces. Rebecca had chosen green for both of them, with gold filigree adornments. The varied but elegant masks and elaborate costumes worn by all the revelers added an air of excitement to the dance.
As she spun to the music with Mr. Darcy’s hand lingering against her own, Elizabeth recalled their conversation at Lady Catherine’s party.
He wished to court a lady who was not Jane – and he had been near to telling her that it was she , Elizabeth felt it instinctively.
At such a thrilling moment, the mystery of his sentiments only heightened her every sensation.
He said nothing aloud as they went down the dance together, laughing merrily, but there was a significant eloquence in all his looks.
His eyes seemed full of every feeling Elizabeth could no longer restrain, and they reveled in silent, mutual regard.
It was only after their dance, when he led her to take some refreshments in a secluded alcove, that Mr. Darcy spoke to Elizabeth. “You may recall that I spoke privately with your sister on the day that we looked at our costumes together.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said. After their antics with their costumes, Elizabeth had found some reason to detain Mr. Bingley while Mr. Darcy singled Jane out.
“I thought it only right, after what I said to you at my aunt’s horror show of a dinner party, that I ought to have a particular conversation with your sister at the earliest opportunity.”
Elizabeth nodded, chewing at her lip before correcting herself. Jane had seemed a little withdrawn all day, and Elizabeth feared it was due to Mr. Darcy. “I cannot say if Jane had yet come to any conclusion as to whether you and she would suit.”
“She admitted as much,” Mr. Darcy said. “But when I told her that I had no wish to be a rival for my friend, much less such a feeble one, she accepted my decision and thanked me for making her choice a little easier. It is strange, but I have the impression that she is not as certain of Mr. Bingley as he is of her; it has ever been the reverse for my friend.”
“He will have to earn her heart,” Elizabeth agreed. “But I am glad that Jane was gracious toward you. After seeing Mr. Bingley get the better of Lady Catherine, I have every hope that her revenge upon him shall not prove a success.”
“I ought to have followed your advice and brought my pistols to that ghastly party,” Mr. Darcy drawled.
Elizabeth laughed and sipped at her glass of punch. “It is tonight, at the event she has happily not deigned to attend, that you and Richard have brought your swords!”
She breathed a sigh of relief as their conversation turned toward humor.
She had yet again feared that talk of ending his courtship with Jane might turn in a direction she was not ready to entertain; at that moment Jane and Mr. Bingley were walking in her direction.
Jane looked between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy with a furrow in her brow that bespoke of some discomfort at the easy banter she beheld.
Fortunately, Rebecca was guiding Mr. Tilney that way, her sorceress costume at odds with his masked representation of Robin Hood. “I have not seen your father, but I cherish every hope that he is the sheriff of Nottingham,” Elizabeth said merrily.
Mr. Tilney bowed to Elizabeth with a flourish. “Is your wicked King Arthur levying harsh taxes, fair Queen? I shall conspire against him with the Lady of the Lake, for Rebecca commands me to dance the next with you, Lady Jane.”
Jane glanced askance at Mr. Darcy, who was still standing very near Elizabeth. She gave a tight smile as she replied, “I shall, if you will dance the set after that with Lizzy.”
When Mr. Bingley asked Elizabeth to dance next, Rebecca grinned at Darcy and offered him her hand. “Shall I cast a wicked spell upon you, Cousin?”
Mr. Darcy obliged her, just in time for Miss Bingley, who was stalking that way in her garish peacock regalia, to scowl and set herself on a different course.
Captain Tilney, whom all of Elizabeth’s party was determined to avoid, smoothly came to Miss Bingley’s rescue, and Elizabeth shared a look of uneasy mirth with Mr. Darcy before Mr. Bingley whisked her away.
Elizabeth enjoyed her dance with Mr. Bingley, for when he was not praising her sister, he joined Elizabeth in speculating what Rebecca could be about, for she seemed intent on flirting shamelessly with Mr. Darcy.
“I wonder if she means to amuse herself at his expense, or perhaps it is another odd bet she has made with her brother.”
Elizabeth laughed, but she began to suspect Rebecca had a very different motive.
It could not have escaped Rebecca’s notice that Jane had been uneasy at what hung in the air between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy.
Rebecca was making a spectacle to deflect what Elizabeth had been too swept up in her dance with Mr. Darcy to conceal.
It was clear that Elizabeth had offended her sister, in allowing herself to come to such a precipice with Mr. Darcy before Jane had made that choice for herself.
Just as Lady Augusta had clearly seen it when she was arguing with Lady Catherine – and what had yet to be named between Darcy and Elizabeth had again given the dowager pause when she distributed the evening’s costumes.
Elizabeth began to realize with rising panic that it must have been evident to everybody, from the very beginning, and on every occasion that she was in company with Mr. Darcy since his apology.
She was growing increasingly attached to him, and she believed that he found her far more than tolerable; she was the reason his courtship with Jane floundered.
Elizabeth attempted to compose herself and enjoy Mr. Bingley’s company with every hope that he might one day be her brother. “I ought to warn you that their bet for the evening is whether or not Richard will be able to persuade you to become foxed out of your senses.”
“Ha! He might have succeeded, for I may require some particular courage to make fine speeches to your sister! Henry Tilney is far too smooth, and I think he had better save his charm for Lady Rebecca. But we should turn the tables on them!”
Elizabeth cheerfully agreed, but she could not escape increasing discomfort as the evening progressed.
She joined Mr. Bingley in plying Richard and Rebecca with strong drinks, but began to partake a great deal as Jane remained frigid and indifferent to her.
She abandoned any hope of dancing again with Mr. Darcy, and cajoled Richard into asking her for the supper set.
He lamented – and only partially in jest – that he had hoped to ask the lady of the evening, Lady Susan, for that honor.
Richard still spoke with the merry widow for most of the meal; Elizabeth said little as she watched Jane, who had made an obvious and deliberate point of dining far across the room from her sister.
There was little pleasure to be had in the meal as Elizabeth forgot about Mr. Darcy entirely, so consumed was she by the anxiety her sister’s cool avoidance inspired.
Withdrawal from society began to seem a better alternative, making Elizabeth utterly wretched.