One Thread Pulled: The Dance With Mr. Darcy (33 page)

The rest of the morning rushed upon her, and suddenly, it seemed that he had openly declared
 
something
, although it was impossible to say exactly what. Elizabeth realized that as they had basked together in the morning light
 
her heart had been touched—a little, although in the moment she had denied the feelings that had threatened her equilibrium. It was for the best, she knew, for Mr. Darcy was too much of a gentleman to encourage her to hope for romance when such a match held no advantage for him. The colonel's claim of his belief in her friendship with Mr. Darcy suddenly made perfect sense!

Mr. Darcy, she concluded, did enjoy her companionship, although he did not fully reveal it in company. His pleasure in their conversations was evident, and his intentions were clear that he wished to pursue a platonic cordiality. Such a relationship must be beneficial to them both if Jane and Mr. Bingley continued to progress toward marriage, for as Jane's closest sister and Mr. Bingley's dearest friend it would not do for them to be unpleasant in their relations.

There, in the still of the night, in the confines of her own heart, she felt a small pang of disappointment that it could never be more, for somewhere in her muddle of thoughts, she came to the realization that she was rather fond of Mr. Darcy. His kindness, the gentle way he spoke to her, the dignity with which he carried himself, these things were slowly crowding out her initial impressions of pride and arrogance--not entirely, but enough for her to acknowledge, if only to herself, that knowledge of his good opinion of her was sweet. She had not sought his good opinion; in fact, on several occasions her actions should have driven away any hope of it. However, with some little evidence that she had nevertheless attained it, she was more inclined to be benevolent in her opinion of him as well.

As for the handkerchief, she was back to where she had started. She had no proof that it was Mr. Darcy, and his character was so inherently honest that it was simply not consistent with his nature to steal or to engage an accomplice in theft. She did not believe Mr. Collins was clever enough, which left the colonel and Mr. Wickham as the only remaining suspects.

The change in Mr. Wickham's behavior toward her had been suddenly so forward that she wondered at it. Her father's revelation at dinner that Mr. Wickham had engaged in past seductions was some explanation but not a satisfactory one. As bold as they had been, his declarations had also been flattering, and she could see in looking back on them, Mr. Wickham had been attempting to lead her directly back to an attempt to relate his history with Mr. Darcy. This, she speculated, may have been his motivation, to win her loyalty in taking sides against Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Wickham, who had been only mildly disconcerted by the presence of Mr. Darcy, certainly had been discomposed by Colonel Fitzwilliam. There was truly a history of some kind there, and the undercurrent of hostility was great.
 
Did Mr. Wickham take the handkerchief in retaliation for my unwillingness to hear him?
 
It was a possibility. She realized with chagrin that she did not know his character well enough to rule him out as the thief.

Colonel Fitzwilliam had charmed Elizabeth from the moment she met him. She reflected on the way his eyes had twinkled with a good-natured mischief and how he had put her immediately at ease. She hardly knew him, yet she already trusted him. A thought occurred to her that she had been inclined to trust Mr. Wickham implicitly as well, until Mr. Darcy had warned her against him. Now, by virtue of his association with Mr. Darcy, she felt no compunction in granting Colonel Fitzwilliam her trust and good opinion with less than a day of acquaintance, in spite of his mischievous countenance. Yet Elizabeth could not rule him out as one who would steal a handkerchief. She did not think he would do it with any malicious or even romantic intent, but would he do it as a lark? She could believe it very well indeed. Of course, she told herself, once he knew how she treasured the lace on it, if he had taken it, he would not hesitate to return it.

After many hours of wakefulness, her mind awhirl with thoughts that would not be set aside, Elizabeth finally dozed and eventually slept in the hours just before dawn. It soon became a heavy, dreamless sleep that would hold her exhausted body captive to the bed late into the next morning.

~*~

Darcy awoke before dawn again, filled with desire to see Elizabeth. He dressed and rode out to the base of Oakham Mount, initially hopeful for a repeat of the previous morning's good fortune. He knew before he arrived that she would not be there, for he did not see her figure upon the path, but he remained out, riding in the vicinity until the sun was well up, and the foggy mist that had veiled the path had burned off. He had brought Apollo, considering him an ambassador of goodwill with Elizabeth, and it seemed to Darcy that he was not the only one disappointed at the lack of sprites in the Hertfordshire countryside that morning.

Chapter Thirty

The Winds Begin to Blow

E
lizabeth woke with a start, the sound of raised voices and a slamming door jarring her from a deep slumber that could have easily held her for another hour. She tried to make sense of it from beneath the warm comfort of her feather quilt, but as the fog of sleep lifted, so too did her ambivalence to the sounds emanating from below stairs. As soon as she raised herself up to sit on the edge of the bed, the frigid air in her chambers was incentive to rapidly dress for the day, see to her toilette, and join her family for breakfast.

“Lizzy, are you unwell?” Jane said with concern as soon as she entered the dining room.

“I am well,” Elizabeth replied with a slight shake of her head. “I had some trouble sleeping, that is all.”

“Humph.” The sound came from within Mrs. Bennet's chest, expressing disapproval. “You will not secure any dance partners if you cannot be bothered to sleep well, Lizzy. Beauty requires adequate rest, and you should take care to sleep tonight, or you will not be fit to be seen at the ball!”

“Yes, Mama.” Elizabeth smiled sweetly at her mother as she prepared herself a piece of toast. “I shall not rest until I rest.” She looked around the table. “Where is Papa?”

“He went to his study.” Lydia giggled, “After his concession.”

Elizabeth arched a dubious eyebrow at her sister. “Concession? What concession?”

“Just that I may go to the ball after all.” Lydia burst out with a great smile. “Mama worked on him, of course, but she was not successful at all.” Lydia frowned. “He was completely unmoved when I entreated him.” She pointed at Jane. “But then Jane said that it would make her unhappy if I could not be there, and Kitty said the same. Then Mama said she too, and he allowed that I could go.”

“Did he say why he relented?” Elizabeth asked.

“Well, he frowned a great deal at me throughout, and said I was silly at least five times.” Lydia pouted slightly. “But he seemed to think it was unfair to Hill more than it was unfair to me, which was ungenerous of him, I think. The very moment he conceded, he left the table straightway in a foul temper. I think I shall avoid his study this morning lest he change his mind again, but he will be over it soon enough—certainly before the ball.”

Elizabeth looked with consternation at Jane who nodded her head acknowledging it and offered an explanation. “Lydia was desperate to go to the ball.”

“Do not look so put out, Lizzy.” Lydia teased. “There will be enough dances with Mr. Wickham for both of us I daresay.”

“I was not thinking of Mr. Wickham, and you must not either.
 
Do not forget that Papa has forbidden us to even speak to him.” Elizabeth glanced at Mr. Collins, mortified at the conversation that was taking place before their relation. “I was recalling how badly you conducted yourself at the Assembly Ball. Netherfield is very elegant. I hope that you will behave yourself in a more ladylike fashion tomorrow night than you did then.”

“You are not my mother, Lizzy! I shall be as merry as I please, and you can say nothing about it!” Lydia retorted. “So ha-ha-ha, when I am dancing with the officers, you...,” Lydia looked wickedly at her sister, and then at their guest, “may dance with Mr. Collins! He is not so jolly as the officers, but he has practiced all the steps now, and will make a fine partner for
 
you,
 
I am sure.”

Mr. Collins colored and looked as though he would reply, if not for the mouthful of food interfering with his speech. He satisfied himself with a simpering grunt, a slight nod, and a wan smile sandwiched between his puffy, stuffed cheeks.

Mary intervened. “I believe Mr. Collins said that he will dance with all of his cousins, did you not, Mr. Collins?”

Collins, still chewing, could only add another grunt and nod to reply in the affirmative.

“I am very much looking forward to our dance, Mr. Collins. You do make an excellent partner.” Mary fluttered her eyelashes as she smiled at Mr. Collins. It was not an intentionally flirtatious flutter, but rather a slightly nervous batting. Combined with a mild flushing of her face and her voice trailing to a whisper by the time she said 'partner', her delivery of the bold pronouncement was so demure and sweet that it seemed almost coquettish in its appeal. Mr. Collins stopped chewing and swallowed the contents of his mouth in one great lump.

Mrs. Bennet interjected, “Why yes, Mr. Collins! I am sure all the girls will be vastly happy to oblige you with a dance! Have you a mind as to which of the girls you would dance with first?”

Mr. Collins, whose expression revealed a degree of residual discomfort in speaking, replied. “Cousin Elizabeth, I believe should have the honor. Cousin Jane will, of course, be engaged for the first with Mr. Bingley, so as the next in seniority to Jane, you must be my first choice.” He looked at Elizabeth and smiled triumphantly.

“I am sorry, Mr. Collins.” Elizabeth replied quickly. “I have already promised the first set to Mr. Darcy, when I attended Jane at Netherfield.” She blushed a little knowing that although Mr. Darcy had claimed a dance, he had said nothing about it being the first. “Perhaps, you will dance with Mary first, as she is next in seniority to me.”

“I am greatly disappointed to hear this.” Mr. Collins frowned slightly at Elizabeth before turning his attention to Mary. “Cousin Mary, would you do me the honor of reserving the first dance for me tomorrow?”

Mary was pleased and showed it, expressing great pleasure with her acceptance of the invitation. Mrs. Bennet narrowed her eyes slightly at Elizabeth. “So you're to dance with Mr. Darcy? Now there is a turnabout! I must say that I should like to see that arrogant man take the floor with one of my daughters, for he refused to stand up with any of them at the Assembly Ball, and it is very nearly an admission of how wrong he was.”

“Mama, you mistake him. Mr. Darcy knew no-one but his own party at the Assembly,” Elizabeth defended, “his offense was not intentional.”

Kitty suddenly stiffened and sat up straight in her chair. “Mama, do you hear that? There is a carriage in the lane!” She jumped up impulsively and ran to the window, peering out in an attempt to discern the visitor. “It is that lady! The one who brought Mr. Collins!”

~*~

Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy rode to Meryton shortly after breakfast. Having dined with the officers on a previous occasion, Darcy knew where the commanding officer was quartered, and they called upon the man at precisely twelve o'clock.

Their visit was short—but twenty minutes in duration. Colonel Forster, who recalled his previous acquaintance with Colonel Fitzwilliam, was pleased to renew the friendship.
 
It did not take long for the callers to turn the conversation to the business that had inspired their visit, and with uncommon gravity, they related what they knew of Mr. Wickham's character and history of scandals in the various areas in which he had resided. No specific mention was made of Mr. Darcy's connection to Wickham, other than they were from the same neighborhood in Derbyshire, and that one young lady injured by Mr. Wickham was also from the area.

In the several months that the cousins had spent tracking Wickham from Ramsgate, although they had not located the man himself, they had collected a litany of evidence against him. Upon disclosing what they knew, Colonel Forster was solemn. He was highly aware that the situation was political, for he was responsible to maintain adequate ranks in the militia, but the goodwill of the merchants and people of Meryton was critical for the duration of the time they were to be quartered in the village. To knowingly harbor an officer who would endanger the reputation of the entire militia and harden the general opinion against them was serious business.