Kitty and Lydia linked their arms together and walked briskly ahead, talking excitedly about officers and ribbons and the Netherfield Ball to be held in just six days. Jane and Mary walked together, calming their younger sisters when they became overly boisterous and occasionally attempting to draw Mr. Collins’s attention away from Elizabeth to such neutral and insipid topics as the weather and the state of the roads. That Mary did not mention Fordyce’s sermons even once, a work from which she was known to quote extensively, proved that she wished to avoid his notice.Elizabeth was glad, though it meant that, by default, Mr. Collins’s attentions fell to her.
They saw Lady Lucas in front of the apothecary. Elizabeth raised her hand to greet her, but the lady must not have seen her before she turned to enter the shop. Several times, Elizabeth’s greetings went unacknowledged as they walked. It was strange, but with everyone scurrying about in preparation for the upcoming ball, their reactions were easily explained. She and her sisters were the same. Everyone wanted to put their best foot forward at the grandest event to be held that year.
One by one, they filed into the dressmaker’s shop to purchase the odds and ends they had not acquired on their last visit.
“Get whatever you wish, girls! You must look your best!” encouraged Mama.
Mr. Collins raised a finger. “Within the boundaries of modesty. Remember that greed is a sin.”
For a clergyman who lived by his patroness’s strictures rather than God’s, he had some nerve. Rebellious and in possession of some funds, Elizabeth marched up to the counter. “I will take what is left of the shimmery peacock blue.” Already, she planned her gown. With only six days to complete her work, it would have to be a simple design. Simple and elegant. The color itself would make up for anything lacking.
The clerk frowned. “There is not enough for a gown.”
Another hope crushed. She would not have thebeautiful gown she had dreamed about for months. She would likely not be allowed to even dance with Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth shriveled inside but hid her disappointment. This was for the best. Why make a gown in haste when she could now afford to send to London to have one made for her by an expert seamstress… eventually?
Still, she would take what remained of the fabric. “Is there enough for a sash?” She would be content to see the man she loved, knowing that the color complemented her eyes.
While the clerk moved the ladder to reach the fabric, the bell rang behind Elizabeth. She turned to see Mr. Goode enter the shop. He walked straight to Mary. Shyly, awkwardly, he bowed. “Miss Mary, might I be so bold as to inquire what color you intend to wear to the ball?”
Kitty and Lydia skipped and laughed around him, but he did not spare them a glance. It served them right for poking fun at him for being tall and spindly. There was nothing to be done for his height, but Mr. Goode had filled out nicely over the past few weeks. (Not Mr. Darcy nicely, but nobody compared to him!) They got so loud that Mama even scolded them.
“I will be wearing a yellow ribbon,” Mary replied.
He bowed again, ignoring Lydia’s attempt to jostle herself into a better position than Kitty. “Then I shall wear a yellow waistcoat to match.”
Mary blushed.
“May I have the honor of your first dance?” he asked.
She agreed.
“And the dinner set?” he added.
Mary’s smile widened.
“And any other dance you might have free… not that I expect you will have any.”
Before Mr. Goode filled Mary’s dance card, Mama was inquiring about wedding lace.
The clerk handed Elizabeth her wrapped fabric and opened the cupboard beneath the counter to pull out lace samples. Elizabeth had thought to feel more satisfied with her first frivolous purchase, but it was Mary’s happiness that warmed her heart.
Lydia pouted. “It is unfair.”
Kitty poked her in the ribs.“Youare only jealous because Mr. Goode is handsome now, and he pays you no attention.”
“He paid no attention toyou,either.”
Mama held up a length of Portuguese lace. “If Jane is not careful, Mary will beat her to the altar.” Jane, in her selfless happiness for Mary, would not mind.
This was just what Elizabeth had hoped for her sisters. Mary had Mr. Goode. Jane had Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth had… well, she had her art. Painting made her happy.
They might have lingered longer in the village, but the clouds looked foreboding, and they did not wish to be caught in the rain. Now was not the time to riskcatching a cold.
They had just piled all their purchases onto the dining room table to admire, sort, and plan when the rains came. The first day of the downpour passed by with little note. What was a day of rain when they had so much needlework to do for the ball?
The second day was the same as the first. They had enough stitching and embellishing of gowns and slippers to keep them occupied from dawn to dusk.
There was still more work to be done on the third day, but their fingers were sore, and the company was tiresome. Mr. Collins read while they stitched and snipped. As if their work was not tedious enough, he insisted that they listen to him as he read book one of Fordyce’s sermons.
