He nodded. “We hope that people will be on their guard around him, not trust him too readily, yet I cannot be absolutely certain that he has not reformed. It is a ridiculous hope, but perhaps what happened this past summer, using Georgiana as he did, forced him to acknowledge how low he has sunk. I do not believe it isso, but for his father’s sake, I wish it were. It would make no difference to me—he and I could never be friends again—but…” He shrugged. “He might genuinely want to make his new career a success and live an honest life.”
Elizabeth detected a subtle longing in his tone and knew he not only hoped Mr Wickham had reformed; hewantedhis former friend to become the man he knew he could be. It might only be because he knew it would please his and Mr Wickham’s fathers, it might be because of his memories of them as boys, but it would gratify him, and for his sake, she wished it would come to pass. She smiled and nodded to show that she understood and decided a change of topic was in order.
“My father said there was something you wished to ask me. I admit, I am impatient to know what it is.”
He chuckled and glanced at her but did not seem able to keep a steady eye on her. “Will you dance with me at the ball? I-I thought perhaps the first set?”
She bit her lips together to stop the words that wanted to burst from between them. They would have been a combination of astonishment and a hasty agreement; both would have left her feeling equally as silly, especially once she considered that he might be asking as part of his quest to ensure everyone who knew about his insult at the assembly saw that he regretted it. If that was the only reason he wanted to dance with her, she would just as soon decline. They might spend the evening in conversation instead. That was an activity she knew they would both enjoy.
“But you dislike dancing,” she said.
He swallowed audibly and fixed his gaze on hers. “But with you, I do not believe I shall find it so disagreeable. I know you will keep me sufficiently amused.”
She laughed, feeling flattered and consequently awkward. “How exactly do you suppose I would do that? Since you hate the exercise, I imagine the task would be difficult and almost certainly beyond my skills.”
Still keeping his eyes on hers, he shook his head. “All we need do is have a conversation similar to those we have had of late. Speak to me of more than how lovely the flowers are, do not hint that you would like to befriend my titled relations or question how many bedchambers there are at Pemberley.”
Hastily covering her mouth to muffle her exclamation, she needed a moment before she could respond. “Do ladies actually do that?”
He pressed his eyes closed and nodded, letting out a weary sigh. “And worse. I shall give you no names, but I have encountered some ladies who all but invite themselves to stay at my estate, others who encourage me to call on their fathers or brothers who, naturally, want nothing more than to be the best of friends—and more. One even hinted that I could do her brother a great deal of good if only I would give him a thousand pounds.”
“Oh, how wretched. And unfair! With such experiences, I am surprised you attend balls at all.”
“If I could avoid it, I would. My cousins and aunt—perhaps I ought to use names so that you know of whom I speak. I have several cousins and people I call aunts. I am referring specifically to Lady Romsley and her sons. These particular cousins seem to feel I should enjoyflirting with every young lady I meet, as they do, and my aunt believes I should be looking for a wife and am sure to find her only if I dance with every eligible lady in town.”
“Do you ask their fathers for permission to request a set?” She did not restrain her grin at the picture he painted of his life, intending to teach him to find the humour in it, if she could. Understandably, he would find his family’s coaxing him to behave in ways contrary to his nature extremely disagreeable, despite the current lightness of his tone.
He rubbed the back of his neck and momentarily averted his eyes. “No, but under the circumstances, I thought I should. He did not seem to mind that we spoke together the other evening, but a card party at Haye-Park is not the same as dancing together at a large ball. You have not answered my question.”
“No, I have not. Let me do so now. Of course I shall dance with you, sir. Thank you. I am greatly anticipating it.” She spoke cheerfully, seeking to ease the seriousness she heard in his voice. Soon, he would apologise again, she would accept, and her next task would be to make him leave their unfortunate beginning in the past.But that makes it sound as though I expect our…acquaintance to last longer than the week or, if I am fortunate, two he is likely to remain in the neighbourhood. I ought not to think that way. It will only result in disappointment.Surely, Mr Darcy’s visit to his friend would end soon, and while she and he might see each other again if Mr Bingley remained at Netherfield Park or if he and Jane married, whatever friendship the two of them were beginning to establish would beover. Until that happened, however, there was no reason she should not relish every minute of his company.
His expression softened, and she felt her cheeks warm when, in his deep, smooth voice, he said, “I, too, am looking forward to it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
It began to rain later the same day, but the weather did nothing to diminish the happiness of six ladies as they spoke of the forthcoming ball. Vital questions, beginning with what they would wear, then moving on to whom they would dance with, whom they wantedto ask them, and returning to their costumes, were debated again and again.
“I shall be cowering in a corner of my book-room, not to be disturbed unless it is absolutely necessary,” Mr Bennet said on Sunday morning. “Recall, I shall never have a useful opinion on what gown suits any of you best.”
Only on Monday, the day before the ball, did the rain begin to ease, though the sky remained covered with clouds and the air felt heavy. Nevertheless, at breakfast, Mr Bennet announced his intention to take the carriage into Meryton.
“I have business at the bookseller’s,” he explained.
Sitting beside him at the table, Elizabeth was able tosee the tightness of his jaw and suspected he simply needed an excuse to be away from the house for a short while. She did not blame him; she hated being confined indoors for so long and felt the want of fresh air and exercise. Besides, he had been uncommonly good over the last few days, sitting with his family far more than he would have previously; he did not tease any of them for being silly or stupid, no matter how much they chatted about the ball, or ridicule Kitty and Lydia’s more and more outlandish predictions for what would happen—including several proposals, at least one indecent, and the exposure of an illicit love affair. Where they had got the notion that any such occurrence was probable eluded Elizabeth, and she hoped they did not find the ball too tame for their liking. At the least, if they found it dull, she prayed they would not attempt to liven things up in some inappropriate way. She had been worried enough about it that she had mentioned it to her father the day before, and he had promised to keep a close watch on them.
“But Mr Bennet, it might begin to rain again at any minute,” her mother said, alarm in her voice. “What if you fall ill? You must be well enough to escort us to the ball! Netherfield may well be Jane’s home one day soon?—”
“Mama,” Jane said. Her protest was not sufficient to stop her mother, but her father’s was, to Jane’s evident relief.
“Oh, very well, I shall not speak of it. But the carriage wheels might become stuck in mud. How wouldwe get to the ball if you break some crucial part of our only vehicle?” Mrs Bennet asked.
“Nothing evil will befall me. I am determined to go,” Mr Bennet said with a sharpness Elizabeth had not heard in weeks. Speaking more gently, he added, “I shall be well, my dear. The roads between here and Meryton are excellent, and if it begins to rain again, I shall take shelter at the inn until it passes.”
His eyes flickered to Elizabeth, and she knew he had guessed that she would request to go with him, which she did, already suspecting what would happen and having a plan in place to get her way.
“No. Absolutely not, Lizzy,” her mother said. “I cannot stop your father from risking his life?—”
Before she could continue, Elizabeth said, “But if I accompany Papa, I can ensure he is being careful, and I can go to the haberdashery and anywhere else you or my sisters need. Have we not all mentioned various items we would like for tomorrow? Mary, you wanted new pink ribbons for your gown, and Kitty, one of your gloves is stained.”
