Page 39 of Darcy's Guarded Heart
And so, with all the excitement and chaos of the evening unfolding around them, the Bennet sisters—Jane, with her quiet hopes of Mr Bingley’s affection, and Elizabeth, ever more aware of the absurdities around her—set off for the ball at Netherfield, the stage set for what promised to be an unforgettable night.
***
The carriages came to a halt outside Netherfield, and Elizabeth looked up. The house was magnificently illuminated, all the windows on the ground floor shimmering with candlelight. Music spilled forth, accompanied by laughter and the occasional clinging of glass that emitted from some of the open windows.
Her sisters tumbled out of the carriage, making her way to the door alongside Mr Collins and her parents. Thomas, dressed in his tails, looked splendid, though there was something rather stoic about him.
“Are you quite well?” she asked. “Is Mr Collins vexing you?”
“You know how he is. He is a dreadful man, and if I never see him again, it shall be too soon,” he replied. “I wish I had known he was coming. I would have managed to avoid it. I’d have gone to London.”
“Avoid it? Leave? But then you would have missed this ball, and the chance to dance with Miss Darcy—excuse me,Georgiana. I forget she wishes to be called by her Christian name.”
“Something her brother detests, no doubt,” Thomas remarked, and Elizabeth could not disagree. “I do not know that I ought to dance with her. She is charming, but I fear it may perhaps send Mr Darcy over the edge.”
Elizabeth waved her hand dismissively. “It is a ball, dancing is expected, regardless of Mr Darcy’s opinions. I am beginning to think that perhaps he may not be as arrogant and prideful as I first imagined. Indeed, he spoke of some rather alarming things concerning Mr Wickham.”
“Mr Wickham? I am not surprised there are more horrid tales about that man. But pray, what was it?” Thomas asked.
Elizabeth hesitated, then shook her head. “Perhaps I should not divulge. Mr Darcy conveyed it to me in confidence, and it seems wrong to share,” she said, “even with you.”
“I understand. Whatever was told to you in confidence ought to remain as such.”
She nodded, though felt a little unsure. Thomas ought to know at least some of what she’d learned so he would know how to conduct himself. “Suffice it to say it explains in part why Mr Darcy is so protective of his sister.”
Thomas nodded to this, understanding. “I see. Well, I cannot deny that he has been stretching my nerves as of late, but I must remind myself of my own words and give him the benefit of the doubt.”
They climbed the steps to the front door, and Elizabeth reached for her reticule, wishing to apply a bit more perfume onher wrist from the small container she had brought from home, when she realised with a start that she did not have it.
“My reticule!” she exclaimed. “Have you seen it, Thomas? I cannot find it. Did I have it with me in the carriage?”
“You most certainly did,” he assured her. “Shall I fetch it for you?”
“No, I shall get it myself.” She glanced over her shoulder at the carriage they had arrived in, which was just now pulling around to the side, likely to join the other guests.
“I shall be there in a moment. Do not deprive yourself of a moment’s joy on my account,” she said.
They parted ways then, and Thomas went inside while she hurried after the carriage. She lifted the hem of her gown just enough to keep it from dragging on the ground and made her way around to the side of the house. In the distance, she saw the stable yard where all the carriages were being lined up. She was surprised by how quickly their carriage had been taken away.
By the time she reached the stable yard, she regretted not having accepted Thomas’s offer to fetch her reticule, for she was quite out of breath.
“Miss Bennet!” called Mr Martin, one of the stable hands who sometimes served as a coachman, when he saw her. “Do you wish to return to Longbourn?”
“Oh no,” she replied with a laugh. “I’ve merely left my reticule behind—most foolish of me. Would you mind if I…”
“Of course not,” he said, opening the door for her. There, lying on the seat near the window, was her green reticule. She took it and thanked Mr Martin before making her way back.
“Escaping the festivities already, Miss Bennet?” a familiar voice came, and she stopped. Stepping out from the shadows of the stable yard was Mr Darcy. Like Thomas and her father, he was dressed in the most splendid attire. His tails looked freshly pressed, and the white shirt and waistcoat beneath brought out the dark colouring of his hair, which she could see even in the dim light. Perched atop his head was a top hat that made him appear more regal than usual, and the moonlight shimmered in the sheen of his leather shoes.
He was—she could not deny it—exceedingly handsome. Not that she hadn’t noticed it before; one would have to be blind not to see that Mr Darcy was an exceptionally handsome gentleman.
“Mr Darcy,” she said, “I had not expected to see you here! And no, I am not escaping the festivities. I merely came to fetch my reticule. But what excuse do you have for seeking refuge? I would have thought there would be enough accomplished ladies of your acquaintance at the ball to inspire you to dance.”
He offered a small smile, revealing his perfectly white teeth. “Indeed, Bingley has gathered quite a number of acquaintances. I would not be averse to dancing tonight—perhaps even with you, if your ankle permits.”
She was taken aback; she had not expected Mr Darcy to ask her to dance.
“My ankle is much improved this very evening, though my mother takes credit for it as she insisted on wrapping it to excess in an assortment of poultices,” she replied.
