“But it is fruitless.”
“Nonetheless, in caring for someone, we enlarge and nurture our own hearts. Yes, it hurts if that caring is not returned, but there is, I think, still a beneficial result for us.”
Elizabeth raised her head and stared at Mary. “You appear to have given this a good deal of thought!”
Mary hesitated before replying. “You know Mr. James, of course.”
“Our clergyman? Certainly.”
“Well, before he married…”
“Oh, Mary. You had a tendré for him? I did not know.”
“I made certain that no one knew, of course, as I could not bear being teased. But I did spend a good amount of time contemplating my situation.”
“And now you are able to share the results of that contemplation with me. Thank you, sister.”
“Will you visit me in Kent, Lizzy?”
“I shall be delighted to, Mary.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
When Caroline was told by her brother that Mr. Darcy was returning with Colonel Fitzwilliam, she was torn. On the one hand, the Colonel was the son of the Earl and Countess of Matlock.
On the other hand, he was a second son with virtually no money. Did he deserve a first-rate room, or should he be relegated to a lesser room? She voiced her concerns to her sister, whose face screwed up in thought over this knotty problem.
But Mr. Bingley overheard the discussion and solved the difficulty at once, saying that Mr. Darcy and his cousin were uncommonly close, and doubtless Mr. Darcy would be gratified to share a sitting room with the Colonel.
Once the two travelers had been greeted and given refreshments, the conversation turned to the ball to take place at Netherfield in just a few days’ time. Having been warned by Mr. Darcy, the Colonel had brought along acceptable clothing, and had every intention of enjoying himself at the dance.
He asked Miss Bingley if he might have the first dance with her, and watched with more than a little amusement as she immediately turned her eyes to Mr. Darcy, as if hoping that he would claim that dance; when he did not do so, she consented to dancing the first with the Colonel. The Colonel then asked Mrs. Hurst for the second dance, which was readily granted. There, he thought, happily. My duty will be done and I will be free to seek out this Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
Mr. Darcy watched his cousin ask for dances and knew he should follow suit, but he could not bring himself to do so. His mind and heart were filled with images of dancing with Miss Elizabeth, and no one else would do. He would ask her for a dance – not the first dance, as that would be too much of a statement – but he would allow himself to dance with her twice. He owed himself that much, he thought; two dances and then it would be over! He would end this obsession.
He had been consumed in his own thoughts, but now became aware that everyone was watching him, wondering if he would ask his hostesses for dances. He needed to say something; he searched his mind for a topic, and finally asked Mr. Bingley, “Will you announce your engagement at the ball, Bingley?”
“I will if she will allow it.”
Miss Bingley scoffed. “Allow it? Allow it! Why, she is doubtless already proclaiming her triumph to anyone who will listen!”
The Colonel put in, “Miss Bingley, it is always an error to ascribe to others the actions we ourselves would take in a similar situation.”
It took Miss Bingley a minute to parse that out, and by the time she realised an insult had been slyly delivered, it was too late to respond to it.
Mr. Darcy said, “She will not allow it because you have not yet complied with her condition, I take it?”
Mr. Bingley scowled at his friend and replied, “This is hardly the time to discuss it, Darcy.”
“You are right; I apologise.”
Miss Bingley looked curiously at Mr. Darcy and then her brother, but neither gentleman enlightened her.
***
It rained heavily for three days before the ball, but the day of the ball dawned clear; this was a great relief to the many gentlemen and ladies who had been counting the days and hours until the ball.
Longbourn was a veritable beehive of activity, with half-dressed sisters running to and fro in the hallway, causing Mr. Collins, who was still in residence at Longbourn, to hide in his room lest he inadvertently see something inappropriate for a clergyman.
