Falling for Mr. Darcy (12 page)

“Shall we?” asked Jane with a bright smile as she hooked her arm in Elizabeth’s and they proceeded towards the house.

“By all means!” Elizabeth giggled as the two girls took the steps to the house and entered the warmth of the entryway.

After divesting themselves of their cloaks to the standing servants, they followed their family through to the receiving line.

“I am glad to see Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst again. They were so kind to me while I was ill, and I have not seen them since,” Jane whispered as they neared their hostesses. Elizabeth merely nodded. She cared not for the two sisters and did not look forward to their artificial civilities.

“Dearest Jane! How glad we are to see you now in good health!” cried Miss Bingley, as she leaned in to give an air kiss to Jane’s cheek before turning to welcome Elizabeth. “Miss Elizabeth! How lovely you look this evening. I believe that gown is nearly in fashion!”

Elizabeth was not offended by her caustic, pretended flatteries and responded with her own thinly veiled compliment. “Thank you, Miss Bingley. And may I say that I have never seen a dress in quite that color before?” Elizabeth covered her smile with her gloved hand and turned towards Mr. Bingley before his sister could decipher whether her comment was praise or not.

“Mr. Bingley, sir, your house is simply stunning. You have outdone yourself,” Jane said sweetly, looking up at his smiling face.

“Truly, sir, I must add to my sister’s sentiments and say that the evening looks to be quite delightful,” Elizabeth remarked.

“Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, I am indeed glad to hear it. It is always gratifying to receive such praise from accomplished ladies such as yourselves,” Bingley responded charmingly as he took Jane’s hand and bowed to place a chaste kiss on her gloved fingers. Elizabeth stepped around them towards the glamour of the ballroom just as a familiar dark figure took his place next to Mr. Bingley.

* * *

Mr. Darcy paced the Venetian rug in his private sitting room on the third floor. He was dressed in his finest evening clothes. His valet would receive an extra bonus in his monthly remuneration for his patience and hard work these past few days. Mr. Darcy knew he had been edgy and ill tempered. He had been uncharacteristically critical of his valet’s plans for that evening’s clothing and had requested he make a special trip to London for his grey silk waistcoat with the silver pinstriping and white, dress knee breeches. Upon coming to Netherfield, he had brought many suitable dress clothes but none he felt were fine enough for that evening. He had not planned on attending a formal ball when he instructed his valet in packing for Hertfordshire. The evening clothes he brought would have been more than acceptable, but Mr. Darcy wanted to dress his best. He told himself it was out of respect and honor to his best friend and his acceptance in the neighborhood — and not because of a certain lady.

He slowed his pacing, reminding himself he did not want carpet dust to settle on the mirror shine of his dancing pumps. He stopped before a small mirror to inspect his cravat. It was impeccably folded in cascades of bright white silk and held in place with a diamond stickpin. He pulled at the sleeves of his personally tailored, black tailcoat and harrumphed as he began pacing again.

Mr. Darcy took in a deep breath as he considered what he expected from the evening. He was anxious to see Miss Elizabeth and nervous about dancing with her. The thought of having her hand in his, and her body in the near-embrace of the dance was like lightening in his blood. He tried to imagine what she would wear and hoped that she would give him one of those smiles that set his heart beating out of his chest. The last few days bereft of her presence had settled it for him that, although he did not yet know whether he was completely in love with Elizabeth, he at least knew he did not like to consider any length of time spent without her.

He smiled as he thought of the way her face calmed and the angry fire in her eyes stilled when he told her he was not engaged to his cousin Anne. He had not meant to make quite that type of declaration but he could not allow her to think their lovely moments together had meant nothing to him. In the last few days, he had gone from feeling the declaration was premature to feeling that he had not been clear enough in stating his feelings and intentions towards her.

He stopped his pacing to look once again out the window at the incoming carriages. The sounds from below reached his ears as more and more guests arrived. He was apprehensive when he thought about the many people downstairs. He did not like crowds and was not particularly easy with many of the country manners he had encountered in Hertfordshire. His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a large carriage that looked to have the Bennet crest.

He took a deep breath and thought,
she is here!
He held his breath as he watched the carriage unload. There was some jiggling of the springs before Misses Lydia, Kitty and Mary exited and walked forward, looking at the house and giggling to themselves. Darcy let out his breath and frowned as he saw Elizabeth’s tabby of a mother emerge in an abundance of heavy feathers and bobbles. He watched her plump body skirt after her daughters, none of whom waited for the rest of their party to exit the carriage.

Mr. Darcy had almost forgotten that Elizabeth’s cousin, Mr. Collins, was visiting until he saw the man emerge from the carriage. He had a proud and over-bloated air of self-importance about him as he straightened his parson’s neck cloth and looked towards the house. Mr. Darcy’s hands clenched at his side as he thought of the attentions that man gave to his Elizabeth. He did not like knowing that the first person to have the pleasure of her dance that evening would not be him but her odious and officious cousin. A low growl escaped Mr. Darcy’s mouth as he watched Mr. Collins forget to aid Miss Bennet from the carriage. Thankfully, he saw that an efficient Netherfield servant noticed the neglect in time to assist the lady.

There was a pause, and Mr. Darcy drew in an unsteady breath. His heart sank, as it appeared for a moment that nobody else was going to exit the carriage. The idea that she would not come had not occurred to him, and suddenly the evening lost all appeal. He was bombarded with feelings of disappointment and worry over why she had not come until his spell was broken when he saw her dainty little head peek out of the carriage.

The vision of Elizabeth took his breath away. He allowed his eyes to wash over her and drink in her beauty for a moment. Her chocolate curls were piled fashionably in a swirl on her head, and they caught the glimmer of the candles in the lanterns. The light flickered, and the shine of her hair danced in the night. He could see there was a silvery ribbon twirled in and out of the mass of curls. He imagined for a moment that he could run his fingers along the course of that ribbon — in and out of her soft tresses. The thought nearly caused his eyes to close with imagined pleasure, but he could not allow himself to miss a detail, so he forced them to remain open and rest upon the beauty of her face.

His hand came up to steady himself on the windowsill. Her eyes were lit with excitement and danced around the splendor before her. Her cheeks were pink in the coolness of the night, and her lips turned upward in pleasure. His gaze roamed over the beauty of her expressive face until he noticed with satisfaction the color of her dress. Apparently, it had been warm inside the coach, as her cloak was flung behind her shoulders, and he was able to see Elizabeth’s gown before the cool outside air caused her to pull it back around her. Her dress was made with a shimmery silver, crushed silk bodice and a broad square neckline leading up to thick straps resting just at the edge of her shoulders. An overlay of grey silk tulle draped over her figure and opened in the front under a pleasing empire waistline to reveal that the main skirts of the dress were made of the same silver silk as the bodice. Her arms were draped in white silk gloves reaching to just above her elbows exposing the creamy white of her upper arms.

His heart beat wildly as he completed his perusal of her gown and returned his gaze to her face.
Elizabeth, you are magnificent!
At that moment, she smiled brightly at the house ahead, and he knew he had to go to her. Spinning away from the window, he walked quickly out the door of his apartment and headed determinedly towards the stairs.

He reached her just as she turned from greeting Mr. Bingley, and he stood next to his friend awaiting her addresses. He pressed his lips together to keep them from turning into a love-struck fool’s grin and excitedly waited for her to see him. He watched as she stopped the moment she saw him and slowly lifted her face to him.

“Miss Elizabeth, I hope you will enjoy your evening tonight,” he said.
Oh, and I love you!
“Your ankle is restored, I trust.”

It took only a moment for Elizabeth to regain her equilibrium after the surprising and sudden appearance of Mr. Darcy. His dimples were peeking temptingly and very nearly wiped her mind free of intelligent thought. Smiling demurely, she replied, “Thank you, Mr. Darcy, it is well. I have every expectation of enjoying my evening.”

“I am glad to hear it.” He kept his eyes locked with hers as he bowed, captured her hand and placed a soft kiss on her gloved fingers. “Miss Elizabeth.”

“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth replied shakily and curtsied. A shock shot all the way up her arm when he placed the kiss on her hand, and although he had released her, she still felt its tingle.

It was then that she noticed his evening wear. He was handsomely dressed, and the cut of his black tailcoat molded over his broad shoulders perfectly. Her secret inspection of his person stopped when she noticed that the color of his waistcoat complimented her gown. Without thought, she uttered incoherently, “Your waistcoat . . . my dress . . . ”

“ . . . seem to match perfectly,” he finished for her.

“Indeed,” she spoke quietly in her surprise. He smiled broadly at her before making his excuses and disappearing into the crowd in the ballroom, leaving her mind spinning with a bit of happiness at the coincidence.

Elizabeth hazily moved towards the ballroom and sought out her dear friend Charlotte Lucas. She shook off the effect Mr. Darcy had on her and smiled at her friend. It had been a long time since they had conversed, and she was happy to have a few moments before the dance started to catch up with her. Soon, she could hear the musicians warming up their instruments and preparing for the first set. It was not long before her cousin came to stand beside her, ready to claim her for the dance.

“Charlotte, allow me to introduce my cousin, Mr. Collins,” Elizabeth began. “Mr. Collins, this is my dear friend, Miss Lucas.”

Mr. Collins gave a squeaky bow and said, “Miss Lucas, a pleasure.”

“Mr. Collins,” Charlotte said, as she curtsied.

They spoke together for a few minutes until the band played the opening signal that the set was to begin.

“Cousin Elizabeth, I believe it is time for our dance.” He reached for her, and she reluctantly raised her hand to him as he led her to join the set.

She noticed that Mr. Bingley led Jane out to the floor to open the ball. It was quite a compliment, and she smiled in happiness for her sister. Mr. Collins, believing her smile was for him, stepped forward and spoke in a low voice at her side.

“Cousin Elizabeth, I am also pleased with the prospect of our dance.” He boldly flicked his eyebrows up and down before stepping back into position.

Elizabeth was shocked and mortified at his statement and barely managed her first steps in time as the music began. Unfortunately, at that moment Mr. Collins, being unfamiliar with the movements of the dance, stepped forward with the ladies and bumped ungracefully into her.

“Mr. Collins!” she shot at him. Her cheeks colored in humiliation and rising anger. To her utter astonishment, instead of rectifying his movements to suit the dance, he began to apologize and missed the gentlemen’s next movement. Elizabeth tried her best to complete the turns and movements of the dance with as much dignity as she could with her cousin as partner. He was as disagreeable a partner as could be imagined.

Mr. Darcy, having positioned himself in the location he had determined would afford him the best view of the dancers, and more particularly Elizabeth, stood transfixed at the sight of complete ineptitude on the part of Mr. Collins. He was horrified and angered at the way the parson’s stupidity was embarrassing Elizabeth. He fiercely gripped the pillar next to him as he tried to talk himself out of going to her rescue; that would only embarrass her further. But he wanted to — oh, how he wanted to — because it was nearly unbearable to see her suffering so at the hands of her ridiculous cousin.

Just then, he saw Mr. Collins again turn the wrong way and step roughly on her foot, causing the silk flower of her dancing slipper to tear off and glide across the dance floor to rest near the wall to Darcy’s right. His jaw was set in a grim line, and he started forward, determined to take her cousin’s place in the set. He had seen enough of her suffering and could not handle any more. However, his movements stilled when he saw her limping off the dance floor towards her friend Miss Lucas, who helped her to a chair.

Mr. Darcy turned towards the wall behind him and walked to where he had seen the silk flower slide. He bent over and retrieved it, placing it in the pocket of his waistcoat. He would return it to her later. Looking for her across the room, he could see that she was very angry, but it looked as though her foot was not seriously hurt. Mr. Collins was speaking incessantly to her in what he supposed were repeated apologies. Thankfully, he saw Miss Lucas address Mr. Collins, and he nodded his head and turned towards the refreshment table. Darcy determined then that he would do something to protect Elizabeth from any future attentions by Mr. Collins.