“And Cousin Elizabeth will not wish to miss any of the dancing, as I am humbled to have the honor of her acceptance for opening dance.” Mr. Collins raised his arm for her to accept.
As if having to dance with him is not enough!
Fortunately, Lydia shoved her again, sending Elizabeth forward and out of Mr. Collins’s reach. She kept her momentum going all the way out to the waiting carriages that would convey them the short distance to Netherfield Park.
She took her seat beside Jane, across from Mr. Collins and Kitty. Remy attempted to join them, but Mr. Hill was ready with a lead in hand. With a ruffle ofhis curly fur, Elizabeth promised to hide a sweetmeat or some other tasty treat in her reticule for him, and the carriage door closed.
Kitty and Jane spoke excitedly of the evening, but though Elizabeth took care to smile and nod, her heart was not in it. She had come perilously close to revealing her secret to her father. Had Lydia not shoved her forward, Elizabeth would have broken his heart and shattered his trust in her. She had succeeded in somethinghemight have done, had he tried. One more failure to add to his conscience. No, Elizabeth must keep her secret. The price of revelation was too steep.
Netherfield glimmered from afar like a giant star in the night sky. She determined to do her best to pretend to enjoy the evening, lest she dampen her sisters’ merriment. Already, Jane was watching her with concern furrowing her brow. Wiping the fog from the glass with her handkerchief, Elizabeth smiled at her. “Is it not beautiful?” She looked pointedly at Netherfield, then back at Jane.
“It looks like a pearl in a sea of black.” Kitty clapped her hands. “Oh, what fun we shall have!”
“It is stunning,” Jane whispered.
And it might one day be Jane’s house to manage! The hope that Jane could find happiness with Mr. Bingley carried Elizabeth up the stairs and into the entrance hall. Laughter and bright perfumed flowers enveloped her, their cheer feeling like a smack in the face of Elizabeth’s growing misery.
Mr. Bingley’s expression when he spotted Jane was worth everything. He had been waiting for her, and as soon as greetings were exchanged, he called for the music to start. He carried Jane off to the head of the line forming on the ballroom floor.
Mr. Collins followed, pulling Elizabeth along with a firm grip on her hand and presumptuously assuming a higher place in the line than was their right.
She tried to free her hand. “Mr. Collins, would it not be best to place ourselves further down the line?”
He puffed out his chest. “The patronage of Lady Catherine de Bourgh affords me a higher status. I see that two of her nephews are here, and I am certain that once they realize the connection to their esteemed aunt, they would insist on closer association.”
Two nephews? Dear Lord, he did not mean Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, did he? Who else could it be?
Several townspeople noticed Mr. Collins’s arrogant placing. They gasped behind their hands and whispered behind fans. Elizabeth’s face burned in mortification. She had not been at the ball for ten minutes, and already she had experienced her fill of shame. The night was young and would test her to the fullest.
Mr. Darcy stood across from his sister two pairings up. Georgiana smiled at her. While Elizabeth was genuinely pleased to see her friend, she could not look at her partner.Do not look at Mr. Darcy. Do not look at Mr. Darcy.
Elizabeth looked up and her eyes locked with Mr.Darcy’s. A sea of emotion crashed over her. His eyes were dark and unreadable, but the twitch in his jaw gave him away. He was angry. At her? No. She knew it in her bones. Then at whom? Mr. Collins? Maybe, though Elizabeth doubted that Mr. Darcy knew the clergyman despite Mr. Collins’s claim of an acquaintance. Her father? She hoped not, though it was a likely explanation.
The music began, and she went through the motions, more aware of Mr. Darcy than she was of her own partner. His gaze darted to Mr. Collins, a frown twisting his lips. When Mr. Collins stepped on Elizabeth’s toes, she thought Mr. Darcy would haul the clergyman off the dance floor by the collar, but Colonel Fitzwilliam clipped him in the shoulder and whispered something in his ear.
She did her best not to look at Mr. Darcy after that, but she was aware of him all the same. Just as she knew he was aware of her.
She looked down at the opposite end of the line of dancers, to Mary dancing with Mr. Goode. Kitty and Lydia were dancing with a pair of officers in their red regimentals. They were enjoying themselves. At least they were all happy. Elizabeth would endure so long as they were having a good evening. She would endure. She could do this.
In the archway at the end of the room stood Papa, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked so vexed that their neighbors gave him a wide berth. Only Mama stood nearby, sipping from a flute ofchampagne, grabbing another from a passing footman’s tray before she had finished the last.
It was going to be a long evening, perhaps the longest of Elizabeth’s life, but she would do nothing to lessen her sisters’ joy. She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced a smile.
CHAPTER 33
“That color suits Elizabeth beautifully.” Georgiana circled Darcy.
Elizabeth would look beautiful in a flour sack. Darcy’s eyes and thoughts too frequently drifted over to her. He had to concentrate more than normal on the steps. “She is handsome,” he commented.
That arrogant oaf she danced with trampled on her toes again, and Darcy’s nails dug into his palms once more, his hands formed into fists. He did not care if Elizabeth’s partner was a clergyman—his own aunt’s, at that, as Richard had reminded him. If the insolent man hurt Elizabeth one more time, Darcy would haul him out of Bingley’s house by the ears and kick him down the stairs.
Georgiana frowned, scolding him with her eyes to behave. Until he learned who the toad was to Elizabeth, Darcy could not pretend to feel anything other than bone-penetrating jealousy. He had already promisedthe next two dances to Bingley’s sisters and he had never broken a promise in his life, but he did not feel like behaving tonight.
The look in Georgiana’s eyes intensified. “Whatever you are thinking, stop!” she hissed at him. She looked so much like their mother that terror gripped Darcy and restored a degree of sense.
He had to gain control over himself or risk acting like a brute. He could not injure Mr. Collins, no matter how badly he wished to. And if he snubbed either of Bingley’s sisters in favor of Elizabeth, he would only put her in the path of their retaliation; she would pay for his lack of self-possession.
By the time Richard tapped Darcy’s shoulder to claim his spot on Georgiana’s dance card, Darcy had gained enough mastery of his self-control to do no more than clench his jaw and fists yet again when he saw Mr. Collins and Elizabeth standing for another dance.
