Page 17 of I Thee Wed
When at last he released her, the absence of his hand upon her waist left her strangely bereft. And still she stood before him in silence, perfectly still, looking up into his eyes. Elizabeth was bewitched, unable to tear herself from his presence.
Alexander approached the couple, who still stood upon the dance floor. “Miss Elizabeth, this dance is mine.”
A frown flickered across Darcy’s brow; then he bowed to his partner and withdrew.
As they danced the figure, Alexander complained, “That nabob bribed the musicians so they would play a waltz, and everyone has heard of it. He has made you the talk of the town.”
The harshness of his voice embarrassed Elizabeth. “People will hear you, Alexander. Lower your voice. I told you before, it doesnot mean anything. Mr. Darcy has no designs on me. To him, it was merely a dance, nothing more.”
Her partner was quiet for the remainder of the set, but when it was over, she spoke to him firmly. “I thought I was clear with you when I asked you not to seek me out anymore. I know you are still courting Miss King, for Charlotte told me so yesterday when she came for tea. You must not be jealous if others dance with me; you have no cause. There is no longer anything between us. And as for me, I shall not resent your attentions to Miss King. Charlotte mentioned that she dined with your family this week at your express invitation. Alexander, it is unkind for you to keep toying with me when you know you have no designs on me either.”
He looked angry and confused, but before he could reply, Mr. Worthington claimed his set, eager both to please and to be pleased.
Miss King walked up to Alexander and shook his arm, her expression stormy. “You promised to fetch me lemonade, but instead you danced with Elizabeth. You said you had no interest in her, but I see you are still chasing after her, just as you always have.”
Alexander snapped back a rude reply. “I told you that Elizabeth and I grew up together. We are childhood friends, nothing more.”
Still, his eyes followed Elizabeth across the floor as she danced with the dandy from London. When the set concluded, her partner returned her to Charlotte’s side. She glanced about the room, and a smile broke across her face when she spied Jane seated upon a sofa, deep in conversation with Mr. Bingley.
“I feared Mama’s remarks at church would frighten him away,” she whispered, “but he seems as devoted as ever.”
Charlotte regarded her friend thoughtfully. “I am astonished his sister has not already put an end to the matter and carried him back to London. She urged him to do so after your family left on Sunday.”
Elizabeth grimaced. “I fully expected as much. Did you hear her words yourself?”
“No,” Charlotte admitted, “not with my own ears. But I have it on the authority of several who did. Your mother’s voice, you know, carries easily.”
Elizabeth colored and looked away, but Charlotte continued, lowering her voice. “I even observed Mr. Darcy watching her with an interest he seldom shows. At length, he shook his head, frowned, and walked away. It surprised me that he has not already put a stop to the attachment. He strikes me as the sort who would do all in his power to rescue a friend.”
Elizabeth’s eyes betrayed her hurt. Charlotte flushed at once. “I only repeat what I saw and what others have said. Do not mistake me, I do not wish Mr. Bingley spirited away, only that I should not be surprised if it happened.”
Elizabeth pressed her friend’s hand. “My dear, please forgive me. I did not mean to look so pained. You know I have often thought the same myself, and I even went so far as to warn Papa. He finally listened to me, and that is why my mother is not present tonight. She would only endanger Jane’s happiness further with her vulgarities.”
Charlotte squeezed her hand in return. “Never mind, Elizabeth. Between your mother and my father, we both understand themortifications a child must endure through the follies of their parents.”
Caroline Bingley sat with her sister in a gilded alcove that overlooked the ballroom. She snapped her fan open and shut, her lips pressed tight in vexation.
“Louisa, did you observe that brazen act? Before the entire assembly, Mr. Darcy paid for a waltz so that he might dance it with Eliza, that little country nobody. A waltz! And he had the effrontery to ask me only for a country dance. The slight was deliberate. He meant to embarrass me at my own ball.”
Mrs. Hurst inclined her head with mild indifference. “Indeed, I saw. Yet you ought to compose yourself, Caroline. If you display resentment, it will serve you ill. Mr. Darcy admires dignity, not petulance.”
“Dignity?” Caroline hissed under her breath. “How am I to preserve dignity when he parades his admiration for a country girl of no fortune and no connection? Everyone knows that to bespeak a waltz is an extraordinary compliment. He might as well have declared before the room that Miss Elizabeth is the only woman worth his notice. It is intolerable.”
Louisa’s eyes swept over the dancers. “Elizabeth Bennet has her attractions. She carries herself with elegance, and her manners charm. Men are ever drawn to novelty, Caroline. It need not signify more.”
Caroline’s fan snapped shut. “Do not excuse him. He has made me a spectacle. Every eye will turn from me to her. The notion that he might admire her, her, of all creatures, sets my very teeth on edge. I, who have every advantage of education, connection, refinement, and a handsome dowry, am passed over for a girl with scarcely two gowns worth wearing.”
Louisa laid a soothing hand upon her sister’s arm. “Hush. Lower your voice. If you betray jealousy, you wound your own cause. Mr. Darcy must never perceive you thus. He values composure. You must appear above such trifles.”
Caroline gave a bitter laugh. “A trifle? To be denied a waltz, while she flaunts it before the entire neighborhood? You may call it what you please, Louisa, but I call it an outrage.”
Mrs. Hurst sighed, settling back against her chair. “Then bear it silently, for silence will serve you better than complaint. A lady who stoops to rivalry with Elizabeth Bennet, who by your own admission is a simple country girl with nothing to recommend her, lowers herself. Sister, listen to me, you will gain nothing by it.”
Caroline pressed her lips together and struggled to contain her fury and her pain. Yet her eyes followed Elizabeth across the floor with a look that promised she would not forget the insult.
Chapter 9: Censure
Elizabeth sat at the supper table in a quiet corner with Colonel Fitzwilliam. He had served her a plate and then drawn his chair near to hers so they might converse without being overheard.
