Page 7 of Compromise & Consequence
“Mr. Collins did secure the first set.”
She did not tell her aunt he had secured the set with Miss Lucas; she would find out soon enough on her own, and then it would be too late.
Chapter Three
Upon entry into Netherfield Park the night of the ball, Elizabeth was awed by the magnificent splendor and took it all in with one sweeping glance. From the light of hundreds of beeswax candles, sparkling off the chandeliers, to the elegant gowns of Meryton’s finest, the scene was a myriad of swirling colors and smells, and for the first time, she realized why the party at Netherfield had thought the local assembly was so below their notice.
Nothing prepared her for the sheer opulence of the ballroom. Elizabeth may not like Miss Bingley, but the lady certainly knew how to throw a ball. She could not fault her in one detail. Even when Mr. Bingley’s sister greeted the Bennet family, she behaved as a proper hostess. Granted, the greeting was barely civil, but at least this time she did not sneer in their general direction, although she had given her brother a hard nudge in the ribs with her elbow when he lingered over greeting Jane.
For one brief moment, Elizabeth had an insight into the life her mother might have led before marrying Captain James Bennet. As the only daughter of a wealthy, titled landowner in Spain, she would have known what it was like to attend these types of balls and fetes.
Uncle took himself off to the card room while her aunt got cozy near the terrace doors where other matrons liked to linger in order to see who went outside with whom. Kitty and Lydia took off for one of the drawing rooms in search of Mr. Wickham and Captain Denny, while Mary nestled in an out-of-the-way nook to look over sheets of music, brought in the hope of being asked to perform.
Of Mr. Darcy, she saw neither hide nor hair of him, for whichElizabeth was thankful. The last thing she needed was that annoyingly handsome man’s eyes following her about the room, casting judgment and cataloging all her faults.
Elizabeth and Jane proceeded to the main ballroom, where they found Charlotte and Mr. Collins, speaking quietly along the edges of what would become the dancing area. Over the next hour, the room filled and the musicians began warming up their instruments. Jane and Mr. Bingley, Charlotte, and Mr. Collins joined a host of other guests when the first set was signaled to begin.
Elizabeth, partially screened by a potted palm, stifled a giggle when her aunt noticed who had partnered with Mr. Collins for the first dance. Eyes narrowed; Aunt Frances searched the remaining dancers before scanning the entire room. Fortunately, Mrs. Bennet did not see her niece anywhere, but Elizabeth knew she would not escape complete retribution. At least, not until tomorrow.
She was so satisfied over having evaded her aunt’s machinations with Mr. Collins that she did not see the approach of Mr. Darcy. She gave a start when he stepped in front of her and offered a polite bow. Not for the first time in their acquaintance, she was caught up in his gaze.
“May I have the next set, Miss Elizabeth?”
“I am afraid my next two sets are spoken for, sir. You may have the fourth,” she replied with more than a touch of petulance. If she denied his unexpected third entreaty to dance, she would be forced to sit out the remainder of the ball.
Odious man.
“I shall return for our dance, Miss Elizabeth.”
With that, he pivoted and strode through the crowd leaving the dance floor as the set had ended. She lost sight of his athleticbuild and broad shoulders when he reached the opposite side of the room and exited through a side door.
“Did Mr. Darcy just claim a dance?” Jane asked, her eyes round as saucers. She had come alongside near the end of her conversation with the reserved gentleman.
“Yes,” she whispered back.
“Oh, my,” Jane continued in a low voice. “What will Mamma say?”
“Aunt Frances? I am more worried about Miss Bingley.”
The two cousins stared at each other before breaking into laughter. Each did their very best to stifle their giggles behind fans, achieving a modicum of success, as long as they did not look at each other. It was while she and Jane watched guests milling about, awaiting their partners for the start of the second set, that Elizabeth realized Mr. Darcy had not opened the ball with his host’s sister. That dubious honor, as Elizabeth regarded the task, had fallen to another Meryton gentleman.
She enjoyed the second dance with an officer, Mr. Chamberlain, and the third with Jonathan Lucas, surprised to see Mr. Darcy finally dancing with his host. Immediately upon the conclusion of that set, he accompanied Miss Bingley back to her brother’s side and then approached to claim Elizabeth’s hand. She took her place in the line, slightly amused by the looks of amazement from her neighbors at her austere partner. They stood for some time without speaking a word, and she began to imagine their silence was to last through the whole two sets. At first, she thought to leave him to his silence, but then the imp of mischief that sat upon her shoulder at times such as this goaded her into obliging the taciturn man to speak.
“Miss Bingley has outdone herself in the decorations for this ball.”
“Yes, she has,” was his only reply before falling silent once again.
After a pause of some minutes, she addressed him a second time.
“It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some kind of remark on the size of the room or the number of couples.”
He smiled, showing the slightest hint of a dimple on one cheek, and her breath caught in her throat. Rare was the day Mr. Darcy curved his lips in an upward trajectory, and she wished he did that more. If he had shown this side of his character upon his arrival in Meryton, she might not have held onto the grudge she still felt so keenly after his initial insult and continuous proud behavior.
“Do you talk as a rule while dancing?”
She had the impression he was not perturbed by the fact, only slightly amused.
“Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together.”
