From the moment the Misses Jane and Elizabeth Bennet entered Matlock Manor, they were swept up in the glamour of a private ball given by a member of the Peerage. The public rooms were festooned with garlands of flowers, greenery, and ribbon; and illumination was provided by hundreds of beeswax candles reflected in strategically placed mirrors. A multitude of handsomely clad fashionable people milled about, chatting and sipping fine wine, while a quartet of professional musicians played background music.
“Oh, Lizzy, it is all extremely refined and sophisticated. The guests are so very polished and stylish, and their elegant attire is certainly all the crack.”
Elizabeth was preoccupied with attempting to espy a certain gentleman and said, “Yes, but fashion is something that goes in one era and out the other.” Because she was comparatively petite, Elizabeth stood on tiptoes and craned her neck to look over the milling crowd. “Do you happen to see the Darcy family yet, Jane?”
A liveried footman took their cloaks; and as the Bennet sisters waited their turn in the receiving line, lively Charles Bingley approached and bowed. “Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, what a delight it is to see you both again. Miss Bennet, I confess I have been anticipating your arrival in the hope of securing at least one set. If you are not otherwise engaged, may I request the honour of standing up with you for the first? And Miss Elizabeth, may I have the pleasure of the second set, as well as a moment of your time for a brief conversation before we enter the ballroom?” When the ladies expressed their consent to all his requests, the fellow smiled broadly, bowed again, and walked to the entrance to await Elizabeth.
It was then their turn to be received by the evening’s hosts and hostesses. Jane and Lizzy were presented to the Earl of Matlock and Lady Rebecca before being introduced to the Earl’s eldest son, James, the Viscount Wentletrap, and his wife, Lady Isabelle. After making the acquaintance of the Earl’s niece, Miss Anne de Bourgh, the rest of the party was already well known to the Bennet sisters.
Next in line was Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam in his dazzling red uniform, and Elizabeth supported her sister’s arm as Jane took an unsteady step forward to curtsy and receive his courtly bow. “Miss Bennet, I skipped a heartbeat upon first sight of your loveliness tonight; and I expect your dance card is already filled. If not, may I request the first set?” When Jane informed him she was already engaged for the first, he requested the supper set; and she accepted. He then boldly asked whether her final dance was already spoken for and was elated to be able to secure that one as well, especially since he knew it was a waltz. The striking officer then requested Miss Elizabeth’s first and was surprised to learn his cousin had not snatched her up for the opening set. He was very pleased with himself for having been granted the good fortune of standing up with two such beautiful women.
The Bennet sisters then moved on to the co-hosting family; and Elizabeth felt, before she even saw, Fitzwilliam Darcy’s eyes riveted upon her. The debonair gentleman was impeccably attired in a double-breasted black cutaway tailcoat and trousers. His silver and gold brocade waistcoat was square-cut at the waist, and a snowy silk cravat was artfully tied over the high collar of his white linen shirt. In Lizzy’s opinion, the irresistibly handsome Fitzwilliam Darcy was a swell of the first stare and could easily shine down everyone else; and she only had eyes for him.
Jane and Elizabeth were enthusiastically greeted by Georgiana and Anna and warmly so by their parents. Fitzwilliam Darcy politely addressed Miss Bennet, asked to stand up with her, and was granted the third set. When it was her sister’s turn, he boldly kissed her gloved hand and said, “Miss Elizabeth, my love … -ly lady, you are positively breathtaking tonight, as usual. I need not ask whether you are well, for it is plain to see you are the very picture of health and vivacity. The supper set cannot arrive a moment too soon; until then, I hope you will enjoy the evening … but not too much.” The corners of his eyes crinkled, and dimples appeared as he smiled at the woman he loved.
Elizabeth was stunningly beautiful in a gown with a low-cut form-fitting bodice, short puffy sleeves, and gracefully flowing skirt. The dress was a buttery primrose silk encrusted with tiny, shimmering clear glass spangles that caught and reflected the candlelight. A band of narrow braided gold trim was tied under the high waistline, and its tasselled ends cascaded to the hem. She wore white above-the-elbow gloves and a gold chain with a small diamond pendant. Her chestnut curls were elaborately upswept and dressed with ornamental combs, and a ringlet hung charmingly down one side of her neck. Around her wrist she wore a pretty fan and a small beaded reticule that matched the combs. Completing her ensemble, pale yellow embroidered satin slippers peeked from beneath her well-designed dress.
Miss Jane Bennet’s periwinkle blue gown was roller-printed with silver vertical stripes and had a plunging v-neckline. The elegant creation was pleated in the back for fullness and ease of movement, but from the front the slinky silk moulded to her curves as she walked in soft silver slippers. Her blonde hair was intricately entwined with blue ribbons and piled atop her head, with a few ringlets framing her lovely face. Jane’s only accessories were long white gloves, silver earrings and necklace, an ornate fan, and a reticule that matched her gown.
The two ladies headed toward the ballroom. Darcy saw Ellis Fleming step up to them, bow, and begin a brief conversation he assumed would include requests for dances. Fleming then escorted Miss Bennet inside while Bingley offered his arm to her sister. He noticed the latter two in earnest conversation and correctly guessed his friend was profusely apologizing for Caroline’s behaviour. Darcy craned his neck until he lost sight of Elizabeth in the crowd; he sighed and returned his attention to the last few guests as they filtered in.
Darcy had secured his cousin, Anne de Bourgh, for the opening dances; and as they entered the ballroom together, he was dismayed to see his other cousin, Richard Fitzwilliam, was hovering near Elizabeth. He knew Fitz had been promised her first set and was fine with such an arrangement. What he did not like, however, was the army of other red coats and the sea of blue naval uniforms that surrounded them. The officers, all clamouring to be introduced to his Elizabeth, annoyed and agitated him greatly. As they passed through the throng, Darcy heard far too many young men asking acquaintances if they could perform an introduction to the ‘dark-haired beauty with the fine eyes’. Twice he heard ribald commentary on her other strong points, and twice he had to restrain himself from planting some bloke a facer. “Come, Anne, there is someone I would like you to become better acquainted with before we take our places for the first set.”
“Do you mean the ‘dark-haired beauty,’ the ‘lovely lady with fine eyes,’ the ‘tempting armful,’ the ‘sultry siren,’ or the ‘ravishing wench with the ample dairies’?’”
“Anne Catriona de Bourgh! Your mother would be disgusted. By the way, what are you doing in Town? How ever did you escape?”
“I cannot talk of Mother in a ballroom; my head is full of more pleasant things. Let me just say we had another quarrel, I accused her of living in the Middle Ages, she discovered resistance is feudal, and I am now rebelling by staying at Matlock Manor for an undetermined duration. Enough of unpleasantness, tell me about this young lady who is causing such a stir this evening. I assume you are well acquainted with her.”
“I am, indeed, Anne.” Darcy’s face became suffused with pure love and happiness, and his cousin was intrigued.
“By the look of bliss on your face, her name must be Trudy Light.”
“That was truly groan-worthy, Anne. You have already met, and I know you are aware her name is Miss Elizabeth Bennet; however, I fully intend to change it to Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy as soon as may be.”
“Upon my word, Fitzwilliam! Have you actually finally found your ideal woman? You held out for perfection for so long, I despaired you would ever encounter that quintessential lady.”
“I have come to believe in a quote I heard recently but cannot remember the source: ‘Love is not finding a perfect person; it is seeing an imperfect person perfectly’. There she is, Anne, in the yellow dress, the woman who stole my hea … Well, bloody hell! Why is Viscount Chalcroft kissing her hand and leering in that obscene manner?” Darcy pulled his cousin along as he cleared a path toward Miss Elizabeth, and Anne giggled at the image of him as the white knight bent on a rescue. Miss de Bourgh looked down at her own rather prim and proper pastel pink gown and thought, No knight would ever rescue a damsel in dis-dress.
The opening strains of La Belle Assemblée March halted Darcy in his tracks. He was relieved of his rescue duty by Colonel Fitzwilliam who offered Miss Elizabeth his arm and claimed her for the first set. Fitzwilliam Darcy and Anne de Bourgh took their places in line, as did Charles Bingley and Jane Bennet, as well as Ellis Fleming and Georgiana Darcy. As the dance began, Anne was again amused by her usually stodgy cousin’s infatuation with the lady in yellow. His eyes hardly strayed from Elizabeth Bennet’s position in the formation, and he nearly took a wrong turn.
“Fitzwilliam, you will have to do better than that absurd display. Tell me, have you secured Miss Elizabeth for the final set?”
“Hmm? Oh. Yes, I have, as well as for the supper set. Why?” The movements of the dance separated them, and he had to wait for her answer.
Moments later, Anne said, “You do realize the finale will be a waltz, do you not?”
“What? A waltz! Oh, God!” Darcy’s face was positively panic-stricken.
“Cousin, I know you learned the steps. We were instructed together last year, along with Fitz and Georgie.”
“Well, yes. However, I have certainly not practiced since then.” Again they moved apart, and Darcy became annoyed with the separation.
As soon as they were reunited, his cousin sought clarification. “You have never waltzed with a woman, except that one time with me?”
“Of course not, Anne! The shocking waltz is hardly accepted by our society. When or why would I have done so? What on earth were our aunt and uncle thinking by including such an indecent activity? Confound it! Why did my parents not inform me we would be performing that confounding dance?”
“Then, you do not approve of such physical contact, my prim, proper, prudish, and priggish cousin? Do you not wish to hold your Miss Elizabeth Bennet in an embrace, one hand upon her waist, and glide across the floor with her?”
Darcy groaned, “Oh, God, yes!”
“Then I suggest you find yourself a partner and practice before making a spectacle of yourself on the dance floor.”
“Will you help me, Anne? Please … dearest, loveliest, favourite female cousin, Annie.” Darcy gave her his irresistible, smouldering look, which usually worked uncommonly well on members of the opposite sex. In spite of that, his cousin was unaffected and unmoved.
“When? My entire dance card is full, and I even had to turn down numerous requests. So many men, so little time.”
“It must be the lure of Rosings Park. What gentleman in his right mind would want to stand up with such a shrew?”
Miss Anne de Bourgh pinched his arm as she circled; and she reminded Darcy that since he was currently engaged in the activity, he must be quite out of his senses, which, she added, was no surprise to her. When their set ended, he escorted his cousin from the floor and asked if she required refreshment.
“Wine not? Please take your place in the punch-line, Fitzwilliam. But be punch-ual, and do not keep me waiting. I do have a bevy of handsome suitors waiting for the pleasure of my company, you know.” As he walked away, she added, “And find out whether or not the punch contains any alcohol. I will want proof!”
Darcy shook his head, grinned at his cousin’s teasing, and dutifully headed for the punchbowl. He found himself next to Viscount Chalcroft, the ignoble cad who had been leering at Elizabeth. The bloke’s pun-gent cologne and crude remarks made Darcy want to punch the cad in the face; but he thought of the impeccably proper and gentlemanly behaviour of his boxing instructor who said, ‘If a pugilist wants to get married, he will have to worry about the ring’. Thinking of a ring made him think of proposing to Elizabeth; thinking of Elizabeth made him think of the waltz; thinking of the waltz made him panic. He frantically sought Georgiana in the crush of people standing around waiting for the second set, and he finally caught sight of her pale blonde hair and lilac gown. He hurried back to Anne de Bourgh, thrust a cup of punch at her, executed a poor excuse for a bow, and strode over to his sister and her suitor.
“Excuse me, Fleming. May I have a private word with you, Georgie?” The siblings moved away to a corner; and Georgiana was amused when her brother urgently said, “I desperately need a refreshment course, Georgie. Will you assist me?”
“Brother, why on earth do you need my help to obtain a drink? Simply ask a servant.”
“No, no! I need a quick refresher course in the art of dance, specifically the blasted waltz. For some unfathomable reason I completely forget how the bloody hellish thing is done.”
“Fitzwilliam, why are your knickers in such a knot? Calm down, and watch your language. I am sure Elizabeth would be more than happy to comply with such a request for assistance.”
“I cannot ask her. She is the reason my knickers … never mind! Will you please give me a hasty review? I am sure my recollection of the waltz will come back quickly. I absolutely must re-learn the proper steps before the last set, for I have asked Elizabeth to stand up with me. Therefore, it is imperative I neither be humiliated nor humiliate her.”
“Ah, yes, my perfectionist brother cannot possibly be seen as lacking in any manner. I am truly sorry, Fitzwilliam; but my dance card is entirely full. The second set is about to begin, and I have promised it to Lieutenant Christian Westfall. Now there is someone who truly needs some dance instruction. You shall be fine, brother. That said, my feet might not fare so well. Please do not worry yourself so.”
Abandoned and forlorn, Darcy sighed and stood alone after Westfall claimed his sister. He sourly wondered how he had gotten himself into such a pickle and just how he was going to extricate himself from the dill-emma.
“Mother, how could you fail to inform me we would be ending our ball with the scandalous waltz? Our family shall be ridiculed for such decadence. Why, even Lord Byron, of all people, is opposed to a dance in which couples actually embrace.”
“Oh, Fitzwilliam, stop being such an old-fashioned prig. It is all the rage on the continent and will undoubtedly soon make its way to London as well. My brother and Lady Rebecca like to be trendsetters, plus I have a sneaky suspicion your aunt also wants to defy the patronesses of Almack’s. Our guests tonight, for the most part, are forward-thinking people who will not be offended. In fact, I imagine some of them will actually take great pleasure in causing a sensation. Why do you so strongly object, my dear? I would think, as a young person, you would want to boldly embrace, if you will pardon the pun, a daring new vogue … and a certain lady.”
“Well, I am certainly surprised my uncle even agreed to this. The Earl of Matlock should have been more defy-aunt. Perhaps it would be wise to simply cancel the risqué number before it is too late and replace it with something more socially acceptable. Ah, Father, there you are. What is your opinion of the scandal we shall surely cause tonight?”
“George, our son seems to believe we are all going to the inferno in a hand-basket tonight because we have included the waltz on our agenda.”
The senior Darcy was in an ebullient mood, having bent his elbow with his highborn brother-in-law earlier. “I understand your concern, Fitzwilliam, my boy. All the same, I am by no means of the opinion, I assure you, that a ball of this kind, given by the Earl of Matlock and us, to respectable people, can have any evil tendency. Bloody hell, we are certainly not going to Netherfield (hiccup), excuse me, I mean the Netherworld in any sort of basket, son. The waltz is not wicker (hiccup), excuse me, I mean wicked enough to send us to perdition’s pit. In fact, I am so far from objecting to dancing myself that I shall take this opportunity to solicit my wovely life (hiccup), excuse me, I mean lovely wife for the scandalous waltz.”
Lady Anne smiled fondly at her slightly foxed husband. When their beloved son sighed and set his jaw, she examined Fitzwilliam’s face closely and tried to understand the true reason for his opposition. “Oh, my dear. Has some other man asked Miss Elizabeth for the last set? Is that the cause of your dilemma?”
His ploy had not worked. Fitzwilliam Darcy knew when he was beaten, yet he would not stoop so low as to ask for his mother’s or his aunt’s assistance. “No, no. I assure you, if we are to imprudently proceed with this waltzing business, the lady I am courting will be standing up with none other than me. Mother, Father, please excuse me. I have pressing business to which I must attend.”
As she watched him stride away, Lady Anne shook her head at Fitzwilliam’s stodginess. To what pressing business could you possibly have to attend at a ball? Oh, Miss Elizabeth, you shall be very good, indeed, for my straight-laced son.
Fitzwilliam Darcy had made it the study of his life to avoid situations in which he might appear flawed; and as a perfectionist, he was exceptionally sensitive to criticism and ridicule. He set extremely high standards for himself, derived satisfaction from always being in control, and would not relax until his persistence paid off. I do not want her last dance to be one of mortification. What if I am awkward and have to apologize instead of attending? What if I often move wrong without being aware of it? I do not wish to be the cause of all the shame and misery a disagreeable partner can give. His youngest sister was his last hope. Anna had performed the music while the dance master instructed the family group the previous year, and Darcy reasoned she could perhaps remember the basics of the waltz and steal away with him for a few moments of rehearsal.
“Anna, dearest, loveliest sister, remember the time I covered for you when Georgiana’s frog accidentally, er, croaked because of what you did? You toad me you would owe a favour; and since I find myself stuck in the mire tonight, I need you to return the service now.”
When he had explained his predicament, Anna said, “Fitzwilliam, you are, indeed, a stick in the mud. Just come clean and tell Elizabeth. She is very understanding and will not think poorly of you. I cannot help, because I do not know how to waltz either. I will have to return the favour some other way, some other time. I am sorry, brother.”
Darcy wished he had other female relatives from whom he could call in furth-er favours, but he was out of options. The prestigious gentleman felt pressed for time. He pressed his fingers against the pressure in his aching head, compressed his lips, and repressed his feelings. The pressing business of pressing someone into assistance had to be suppressed while he pressed on through the oppressive crowd.
While Elizabeth capered with Ellis Fleming, Darcy danced the same third set with her sister. His depression eased with each fleeting glimpse of an impressive yellow dress, nut-brown curls, and expressive eyes.
Lizzy Bennet’s dance card was full. She had opened with Colonel Fitzwilliam and stood up with Mr. Bingley for the second set. Her fourth was promised to a naval officer, Captain Rumbold, whom she dreadfully expected would live up to his name. Then she would stand up with the author of A Comedy of Fencing Errors, Mr. Ray Pierre Witt. Following would be the eagerly awaited supper dances, when she could finally be with Darcy. After the meal she was committed to sets with Colonel Myles Forward, Mr. Hugh Mayne, Lieutenant Landon Sand, Viscount Chalcroft, and Mr. Bernard Lorne before she could rejoin Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy for the final dance. As she moved up the set with her current partner, she said, “Mr. Fleming, there is something I have been meaning to ask you.”
“Then ask away, Miss Elizabeth; that is, unless you want to know about Darcy’s behaviour at Cambridge. I will not cry rope on my good friend.”
“No, sir, I would never expect that of you. Nonetheless, I must admit you have certainly piqued my interest; and I am now wondering what deep, dark secrets you will not reveal. You might, however, be able to appease my curiosity on a different subject because of your family background in the manufacture of timepieces. When the first clock was invented, how did they know to what time to set it?”
“Ha! A very good question, indeed, Miss Elizabeth; and I am embarrassed to admit I have no good reply. Perhaps they used a times table. Now I have a riddle for you. Tell me how I should refer to a lovely lady who misplaced the watch I recently gave her.”
“Hmm, my first instinct would be to say late, as she simply must have lost track of time. Though I shudder to even think of referring to her as the ‘late lovely lady.’”
“No, Miss Elizabeth, I would describe her as a timeless beauty. Speaking of Georgiana, do you know she agreed to stand up with me for not only the first and supper sets but the last as well?”
“My, my, Mr. Fleming, you will certainly set tongues wagging by dancing together three times this night. I hope you are prepared to tie the knot, for imminent matrimony will be assumed, you know. We shall all then refer to your lovely lady as Mrs. Fleming.”
“To some, marriage is a word; to others, a sentence. All I will admit is for me, the word has a nice ring to it, as does ‘Mrs. Georgiana Fleming’ and I am prepared.” He patted his coat pocket and smiled.
Further along the line, Fitzwilliam Darcy asked his partner if she was aware the final set was a waltz. Jane Bennet replied in the affirmative and admitted she was eager to finally put her dance instruction to practical use.
“Has Miss Elizabeth also learned?”
“Oh yes, Mr. Darcy. You need not worry. We were both taught to waltz last season, and we have often practiced since then. Lizzy shall not embarrass you, sir.”
“Oh, good. Wonderful news, indeed,” he said unenthusiastically. Darcy was so desperate, he was on the verge of asking Miss Bennet to accompany him to an empty room and reacquaint him with the dance.
Good God! What am I thinking? The scandal of the waltz would be nothing compared to being found in a room alone with the sister of the woman I am courting. I am engaged for the next set with the unbearable wife of my unbearable cousin, and there is no possible way I am seeking Isabelle’s assistance. I would rather stick a needle in my eye than hold that harridan in an embrace. A solution shall surely present itself during supper, and I need to concentrate on a more important dilemma … how, where, and when to propose to Elizabeth tonight. Will such a woman even accept a supposedly genteel gentleman who has not the crucial ability to dance with style and grace?
The long-awaited supper set arrived, and suave Fitzwilliam Darcy moved across the ballroom floor with unconscious style and grace to claim his lady. He smiled down at her and said, “Miss Elizabeth, I believe you kindly promised to stand up with me for this set. Shall we?” He offered his arm, and Lizzy curled her hand around his sleeve. They were finally together, and Darcy proudly escorted his sweetheart to the line of dancers. Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was already in formation with Jane Bennet, and Ellis Fleming and Georgiana Darcy stood in place as well.
They were all pleasantly surprised to be joined by a very merry Charles Bingley and his partner, who both suddenly stopped laughing and looked rather guilty when they caught sight of Darcy. Bingley glanced at Miss Bennet and the Colonel, and he could not be deceived as to her behaviour to Fitz. Looks appeared on both sides that spoke of a particular regard, and Bingley realized nothing had occurred between himself and Miss Bennet that could justify his own conceited hopes. Although he conceded to his rival for her affection, Bingley was not as heartbroken as perhaps expected. He and his partner delighted in each other’s company; and Charles was very glad to have, at the beginning of the ball, secured her for the all-important last set as well.
The musicians began to play. Darcy and Elizabeth briefly clasped hands and with that motion became cocooned in their own private world. Unsure which of them initiated each touch, they moved more closely together than the steps required. Shoulders purposely brushed, hands lingered, hips or thighs briefly connected, and eyes remained locked until the last possible moment before separation. Nearby friends and relatives had to speak several times before being acknowledged by the couple.
“I missed you,” he whispered near her ear as they revolved around one another, both physically and mentally.
“I missed you as well; although I did as you suggested, Mr. Darcy, and have enjoyed my evening thus far … but not too much. I wish this set would last until the final one. I have no desire for other partners and admit I am very much looking forward to waltzing with you, sir.”
“Ah, yes. About that … ” They were separated by the movements of the dance, and he did not complete the thought.
For Darcy and Elizabeth, the two dances seemed to last mere seconds instead of half an hour. Before they knew it, they were walking toward the elegantly set tables for the elaborate supper, although neither had much appetite for the vast array of food available.
At least three other couples that had just danced the supper set experienced a similar attraction. Miss Darcy and Mr. Fleming had, of course, been in a courtship for several months and would actually become engaged before the night was over. Two other budding relationships had just bloomed during the ball; the growing attachments would prove to be no less binding.
The friends met at a stylishly set table with eight places. Each gentleman seated the lady with whom he had just danced, leaving the chair next to her empty until he could return. Fitzwilliam Darcy, Charles Bingley, Ellis Fleming, and Richard Fitzwilliam grinned at one another as they rushed back from the buffet. The gents were buffeted and bumped by other chaps who also balanced glasses of wine and plates of delicacies, all in a desperate hurry to return to their lovely supper partners.
Jane Bennet looked across the table at her sister with a smile of such sweet complacency, a glow of such happy expression, as sufficiently marked how well she was satisfied with the occurrences of the evening. Elizabeth said, “Well, Jane, you look very pleased; and if I am not mistaken, you stood up for every set so far. I find it rather diverting, since earlier today you thought you would end up a wallflower tonight. Although my dance card is full, some of the gentlemen have left much to be desired. I certainly do not understand how Captain Rumbold attained his rank and am certain only garden tools rival his intellect. While Mr. Ray Pierre Witt may have been sharp, I believe I foiled his plans to get me alone in a corner. I do hope all your partners thus far have been intelligent, well behaved, and graceful.”
“Oh, yes, Lizzy. My last partner was especially skilled at the dance, very good-looking, and charming. He inquired if it hurt; and when I asked to what he referred, he said, ‘when you fell from heaven.’ He was very attentive and really has the most marvellous smile.” Jane blushed and added, “He also asked me if I had a map.”
Georgiana asked, “Why would he need a map in this ballroom?”
“He said he kept getting lost in my eyes.” Jane sighed and added, “Is he not clever and romantic?”
The young lady who had just danced the supper set with Charles Bingley snorted and said, “But Miss Bennet, I thought you just stood up with Colonel Fitzwilliam. Surely you are not describing him in such a complimentary manner?”
“Yes, Miss de Bourgh, of course I am referring to your chivalrous cousin.”
Anne de Bourgh snorted once more. “Ah, yes, Colonel Stud-muffin strikes again.”
Jane blushed anew, stifled a giggle, and asked, “Did you just say Colonel ‘Stud-muffin’?’”
Miss de Bourgh rolled her eyes. “Um, yes. Perhaps I should not have revealed knowledge of that nauseating moniker, so please do not repeat it. I tell you, it has turned me off muffins completely. I am totally at a loss to comprehend the attraction, but apparently he has a following of admiring females who refer to him with that rather dubious pet name. Ugh! Anyway, you Bennet sisters really are quite a combination yourselves. I am sure both Fitzwilliam and Richard thought they were safe; yet you thieves have surely stolen their hearts. Have they asked for locks of your hair yet?”
Elizabeth laughed and replied, “Well, I do know of a handsome ‘barberin’ who could also be a robber if he is good at cutting locks.”
A deep voice behind Lizzy startled her. “Ah, Anne and Miss Elizabeth. I know you were introduced in the receiving line, but I have wanted you to become better acquainted with one another all evening. I am glad you have finally had the opportunity to converse. You share a common uncommon sense of humour, and I am sure you will get along like a house on fire. Now, what were you ladies discussing with such hilarity?” As if I did not know, Miss Lizzy Bennet. Will I never hear the end of it? I do believe I have an unreasonable fear of what might come out of your brother’s three-year-old mouth. In what manner do you suppose our own adorable but naughty children will embarrass me? I cannot wait for us to find out.
As soon as supper was over, singing and playing was arranged and they had the great pleasure of seeing Miss Anna Darcy prepare to oblige the company. She was very nervous, her hands shook, and she fumbled with the music sheets. When Elizabeth saw her distress, she joined the young lady at the pianoforte. She soothingly said, “Anna, please allow me to help. May I turn the pages for you?”
“Oh, yes, Elizabeth, thank you. It will be of great comfort to have you beside me. I have never played in front of quite so many people before.”
Anna played splendidly and received an appreciative round of applause; when Lizzy returned to her table, she received an appreciative smouldering look from the performer’s splendid brother. The other three ladies had been in the process of excusing themselves when Elizabeth arrived, so Georgiana asked if she would care to join them while they freshened up a bit. The four gentlemen stood as the ladies departed; and the Colonel invited Darcy, Bingley, and Fleming to the library for a glass of port. Only the latter gent declined.
While Darcy stared through a window into nothingness, Bingley took the opportunity to quietly speak with Fitz. “I want you to know, my friend, I bear no grudge and wish you and Miss Bennet much happiness.”
“Whoa, Bingley! Of what are you talking, man? You speak as if Miss Bennet and I have come to an understanding.”
“Have you not? You and the lovely lady have the same look of particular regard as can be seen on the faces of Darcy and Miss Elizabeth as well as Fleming and Miss Darcy. I do believe Jane Bennet has found the man who perfectly Fitz her idea of an ideal beau.”
“I would very much like to believe you; yet what would such a beautiful woman as Miss Bennet see in me, a second son and soldier? I have nothing much to recommend me and certainly do not expect any attachment on her part. I admit I have witnessed some admiring glances from the lady; however, I believe it is merely the impressive red coat. Some women are undeniably attracted to a uniform. Oh, I do wish for her affection, though. Egad, but the fairer sex are difficult to understand, and … Bingley? Bingley, where did you go?” Muffled muttering came from the depths of the bookshelves, and Colonel Fitzwilliam went in search of his friend.
“Fitz, are these books supposed to be arranged in alphabetical order by author?”
“Yes, I believe so. But Bingley, what are you after, man? We have to return to the ballroom shortly. Are you planning to read out there instead of dance? That sort of behaviour will be frowned upon, you know.”
“No, of course not. Just give me a moment. Would Johann Wolfgang von Goethe be shelved as ‘V’ or ‘G’? Nope, not under ‘V.’ Out of my way. Where is ‘G.’”
“Gee, I do not know, Bingley. Would you like me to summon a page to assist you; or here’s a novel idea … try after ‘F’, as in … ”
“Aha! Here is The Sorrows of Young Werther; now I just need to find the right passage.”
Darcy joined them and awkwardly said, “I need some assistance but am rather embarrassed to admit … ”
Bingley held up his index finger. “Wait just a moment please, Darce. I need to read this quotation to Fitz: ‘We love a girl for very different things than understanding. We love her for her beauty, her youth, her mirth, her confidingness, her character, with its faults, caprices, and God knows what other inexpressible charms; but we do not love her understanding. Her mind we esteem if it is brilliant, and it may greatly elevate her in our opinion; nay, more, it may enchain us when we already love. But her understanding is not that which awakens and inflames our passions.’”
Darcy waited several moments. Bingley and Fitz appeared deep in thought; so he cleared his throat and said, “Pardon me. As I was saying earlier, I need assistance but am rather embarrassed to admit my quandary. Bingley, as I see it, you owe me a favour.”
“I probably owe you a multitude of favours, Darcy. So how may I help?”
“Firstly, I need a scheme to arrange a private moment with Miss Elizabeth tonight; secondly, I … I do not … remember how to waltz.” The other two chaps stared expectantly at him and patiently waited for further elaboration. Darcy stared expectantly back and impatiently waited for their agreement. “Well? Will you assist me?”
The Colonel scratched his head, rubbed his chin, and said, “Ah … just how, exactly, do you imagine we are to help you remember, cousin?”
Darcy rather testily answered, “You bloody well know how to waltz, Richard. You were there when we learned.”
“Yes, my point exactly! We bloody well learned. How can you not remember?”
“Perhaps it will come back to me once I begin. Be that as it may, I cannot risk making a fool of myself in front of everyone, especially Miss Elizabeth. I know it is a lot to ask, but could one of you please provide the music and the other show me the steps?”
“Egad, Darcy! Here? Now?”
Tetchy again, Darcy replied, “No, Bingley, out in the middle of the street six hours from now.”
“Well, what benefit would that be to you?”
Darcy closed his eyes, hung his head, and counted to ten. “Yes, Bingley, here. Yes, Bingley, now.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam thought the whole situation hilarious. In spite of that, he could tell his serious, perfectionist cousin was perfectly serious. “But, Darce, there is no instrument here in the library. How do you expect us to provide waltzing mus … Oh, no. Under no circumstances. I simply refuse to either waltz with you or sing. This is ludicrous. Count me out.”
“Richard, I simply abhor having to stoop low and resort to extortion. That said, I would not hesitate to cry rope to your sister-in-law. She will, no doubt, be horrified to discover you were the one responsible for spreading those ridiculous rumours about her extraneous body parts. Or maybe it is time your mother be told of the rather sweet-smelling, sandy-haired adolescent chap who broke her favourite, and quite expensive, perfume bottle and blamed it on a clumsy servant all those many years ago.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam nonchalantly buffed his fingernails against his red-coated chest and inspected them for shine. Darcy frowned at his cousin’s unconcerned demeanour. “Is your father yet aware of a particular wild, drunken escapade in Brighton involving … ” He glanced at their mutual friend who was eagerly awaiting further enlightening details. “ … er, never mind. We must guard Bingley’s innocence from such indelicate imagery. However, shall I let James know who absconded with his collection of risqué etchings?”
The unaffected military officer rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, folded his arms, shook his head, and whistled a tune between his teeth. Unfortunately for his cousin, it was not a waltz. Darcy scowled until his face lit up with sudden inspiration. “Aha! Did Aunt Catherine ever discover who placed her hand in warm water while she slept and caused her to p … ”
“I will hum! Bingley can be the lady.”
“Could we not flip a coin, Fitz? Or draw straws?” Charles Bingley petulantly whined, “I do not want to be the lady either. And what happened in Brighton? I want to know!”
Georgiana Darcy noticed her father and Mr. Fleming in earnest conversation and wondered about the subject of their discourse. The gentlemen shook hands, both suddenly turned to look at her, and the younger of the two approached.
“Miss Darcy, your father has kindly permitted me to request a few minutes of private conversation with you. Would you care to accompany me and take the air?”
She agreed and asked for a moment to first fetch her shawl, but he insisted on retrieving it for her; when he returned, he gently wrapped it around her shoulders and offered his arm. They decided on a quick stroll in the garden. As soon as they were on the path and assured some privacy, Fleming stopped and stood in front of Georgiana. He gazed into her beautiful azure eyes and caressed her soft cheek with the lightest touch.
“Miss Darcy, you are the picture of loveliness standing here in the moonlight. I have been head over heels in love with you from the moment you poked Darcy with your frilly pink parasol and called him bacon-brained. I admired your pluck as you stood up to your brother and the way you tried to protect your sister and friends that fateful day at Pemberley. I could go on and on, for I love everything about you; but time is of the essence, and I must do this quickly before your father runs out of patience.”
Fleming paced a few steps and carelessly raked a hand through his hair. Georgiana gazed at the thick, glossy black waves that swept the collar of his white shirt; and she longed to run her own fingers through the feathery strands. She admired his broad shoulders in his tight coat, the deep blue of which matched his tantalizing indigo eyes. He stopped pacing and returned, standing very close and speaking very softly.
“A very, very wise American scientist, politician, and author said, ‘Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time, for that’s the stuff life is made of.’[1] Miss Darcy, I do love life; and I do love you. I do not care to squander any more time. Will you share with me the stuff of which life is made? Will you consent to be my wife?”
“Oh, of course, Mr. Fleming, yes! I would very much love to be your wife.”
“Then why these tears, Georgiana?”
“Do you not know a lady sometimes cries when she is very happy?”
“I hope I never, ever, make you sad, Georgie. Still and all, how shall I ever be certain? If you cry when you are happy, do you laugh while you are sad?”
“Teasing, bacon-brained man! If I had my frilly pink weapon, I would surely poke you with it.”
“I would settle, instead, for your calling me Ellis and, perhaps, sharing a … kiss … may I?”
Their first kiss was gentle, sweet, and brief. Ellis Fleming was more than a little intimidated by his fiancée’s powerful father and did not want to be caught snogging. He suddenly remembered the ring in his coat pocket; and, with her permission, he slipped the small sapphire band onto her dainty finger and kissed her hand.
He said, “The inscription reads ‘G ~ Yours for all time ~ E’. Thank you, my dearest lady, for making me the happiest and luckiest man in the entire world. I would prefer to stay here alone with you all night, though I do not believe your father would approve. Shall we return and share our good news?”
The blissful couple entered the ballroom just as Georgiana’s father was about to search for them. They related the joyous news to George Darcy, who made the happy announcement to the entire assemblage.
“Are you looking for someone, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Yes, Mr. Fleming. I am looking for Mr. Bernard Lorne.”
“Ah. Well, I am sorry to report he became rather drunk as a wheelbarrow and had to be carted away to his carriage. But why are you looking for Lorne?”
Georgiana had been speaking with an acquaintance and joined the other two in time to overhear her fiancé’s final question. “Ellis, Elizabeth certainly does not look forlorn.”
“Oh yes, Georgiana, I was actually looking for Lorne,” said Elizabeth.
“But why? Whatever is the matter?”
“There is nothing the matter. He did ask me to stand up with him for the next set, though.”
“Who did?”
“Good grief, my friend. Since you became engaged, you have also become somewhat addlepated. We were speaking of my looking for Lorne, remember?”
“Yes, and I am concerned you feel forlorn.”
“Georgiana, I do not feel for Lorne. I hardly know the man. You know very well my regard is only for your brother; and, Mr. Fleming, just what do you find so amusing, sir?”
Mr. Bernard Lorne did not turn up for the second last set, which was just as well, because Elizabeth Bennet needed to find some privacy. She searched for her sister and saw Jane in conversation with Lady Anne, Anne de Bourgh, and Anna. If Mr. Darcy and I ever marry and have children, I shall definitely refuse to christen any daughter of ours ‘Ann.’ Enough already. She made her way over to the ladies, curtsied, excused herself for interrupting, and asked Jane to accompany her.
“Jane, I need to find some privacy, or I shall simply have to tie my garter in public.”
“Elizabeth Bennet, you would not dare do something so extremely shocking and improper.”
“Well, most certainly not. But look.” She lifted her skirt a few inches so Jane could see the stocking and broken ribbon pooled around her ankle. “I am forlorn, but not for Lorne, and not engaged for this blasted set after all. However, it is unthinkable I might have to sit out the next set and a chance to waltz with Fitzwilliam ‘handsome barbarian’ Darcy. Please come with me and stand guard while I fix this blasted hosiery. Did you happen to bring any extra ribbon?”
“Yes, in my … Oh, no! Where is my reticule? I must have left it on the chair during supper. Lizzy, ask one of the footmen for directions to the library, as there should be no one there during a ball. I am just going to fetch my bag and shall be right behind you. Oh, and Elizabeth Frances Bennet, do not say the word ‘blasted’; it is terribly unladylike of you. Now go! I must make haste to find my blasted reticule. I do not want to miss a chance to waltz with another handsome barbarian named Fitzwilliam.” The pert, saucy smile so often associated with her younger sister was, in this instance, instead displayed on Jane’s normally angelic face.
With a servant’s assistance, Elizabeth quickly found the door to the library. She quietly opened it a crack, peered inside, and promptly pulled it shut while she questioned both her sanity and her eyesight. Good God. Was that … ? No. She scoffed at herself. I could not possibly have seen the scene I thought I did. Perhaps I need a pair of spectacles. The intrepid Lizzy Bennet again eased the door ajar, took another peek, and was stupefied by the spectacle of the pair in front of her. None other than the very proper Fitzwilliam Darcy was, indeed, holding Charles Bingley in an embrace. There was no mistake. Her handsome barbarian’s right arm encircled the other good-looking hooligan, and Mr. Darcy’s hand rested on the back of Mr. Bingley’s waist. Remain calm, Lizzy old girl. Remember the sayings of Publilius Syrus: ‘The eyes are not responsible when the mind does the seeing’ and ‘A suspicious mind always looks on the black side of things’. Surely Mr. Bingley can logically explain the black side of things my suspicious mind sees, and then Mr. Darcy and I shall put this behind us and move forward.
“ … and now move your left foot gracefully forward. No, Darce, your other left foot!”
Colonel Fitzwilliam became tired of humming the waltz tune and stopped to take a breather. In the silence, a feminine gasp was heard from the direction of the door; the three gentlemen froze in position.
Darcy: Good God. Was that … ? No. I could not possibly have heard what I think I just heard. Fate would not be so unkind. Would it? He slowly turned around.
Bingley: Fiend seize it! To hell with this! I am out of here! Sorry, Darce. He quickly headed for the door.
Fitz: I would probably relish this as a comical dill-emma was I not involved in the same pickle. With a sour expression on his face, he fumbled in his pocket for the key to the library and followed his friend.
Bingley’s face was flaming as he curtly bowed to Miss Elizabeth and mumbled what might have been an apology. Elizabeth stepped aside to allow him to pass and was surprised to see Colonel Fitzwilliam hard on his heels. The officer also bowed abruptly and muttered something unintelligible as Lizzy moved farther into the library.
The unmistakable sound of a key being turned in the lock from the outside caused her to reach for the doorknob. Elizabeth’s frantic assault on the immovable object proved futile, and she said a silent prayer. Good Lord! I cannot possibly remain in this room with only Mr. Darcy, although I would certainly like to hear his explanation ... and perhaps a declaration of his intentions. Lizzy turned to face the other occupant and hoped this turn of events might turn out to be a turning point in her life. With her back pressed against the door, she watched the gentleman turn in her direction.
In the hallway, on the other side of the same portal, the red-coated officer had second thoughts about locking the lady in the library. On the one hand, he wanted to do a good turn for Darcy; on the other, he knew he should allow Miss Elizabeth a chance to escape from the room, his cousin, and her fate. His loyalty to family, he decided after a moment’s hesitation, was the key point in favour of Darcy. Colonel Fitzwilliam was no turncoat. He turned away and quickly strode down the corridor.
Jane Bennet was surprised to pass Mr. Bingley in the hallway without any sort of acknowledgement from the gentleman. He was alarmingly coloured up and in an obvious state of mortification. Well, that is very peculiar! Oh, dear, I hope it is nothing serious. As Jane neared the library, she turned her head to watch the poor chap hurry toward the ballroom. When she turned back … OOF! She found herself up against a solid, crimson-coated chest, encased in a pair of red-sleeved arms of steel, and surrounded by a very alluring masculine scent. Jane was breathless, not due to the impact, but because the chest, arms, and scent belonged to the body of none other than her handsome barbarian, Colonel Richard ‘Stud-Muffin’ Fitzwilliam.
The good-looking army officer considered himself one very lucky man, indeed. He had helped his cousin with two dilemmas, was not the one discovered in Darcy’s embrace, and was now the one embracing the incredibly gorgeous Jane Bennet.
“Miss Bennet, I am most dreadfully sorry. Are you well? I have not injured you, have I?”
Truthfully, Fitz was not dreadfully sorry at all and had not released his clutch.
They were so close she could feel his deep, resonant voice rumble within her. Jane glanced up into captivating hazel eyes that darkened as he gazed back.
She breathlessly whispered, “The fault is all mine, sir. I believe my head was turned. I am not at all injured and should probably go to my sister now. She is in the library, is she not?” Truthfully, she did not wish to be released from his emboldening embrace.
“Yes, but perhaps it would be prudent not to disturb Miss Elizabeth and Darcy just yet. I believe my cousin has a very important matter to discuss with your sister.”
He smiled down at her, and Jane nearly swooned. I do feel a bit weak; so perhaps remaining in his strong, protective arms just a little longer can be justifiably … justified.
Why does it feel like the most beautiful woman in the world is in my arms? “Jane, why does it feel like the most beautiful woman in the world is in my arms?”Good God Almighty, please, please tell me I did not just repeat that inanity aloud.
“You are not allowed to address me in such a familiar manner, sir. You are far too forward. Are you, perchance, a trifle disguised, Colonel?”
“I am not drunk, dear lady, just intoxicated by you.” He winced slightly. Oh God, I am a Colonel of corn! But still he would not release her.
“Gracious! You are oddly audacious.”
“Madam, may I be frank?”
“I would prefer you be yourself, Colonel,” Jane saucily replied. “I was under the impression your name was Richard.”
“Miss Bennet, heed this warning,” he growled. “You are dangerously playing with fire with your teasing and calling me by my first name. You give everyone the impression you are very perfectly demure, yet here you are addressing me in a familiar manner and being rather forward. I know I have been the recipient of your admiring glances. Tell me, is there more behind those tantalizing looks than just appreciation for this uniform? Do you have any affectionate regard for the man beneath the red coat?”
Jane blushed but steadily looked him in the eye as she brazenly whispered, “What the eye does not admire, the heart does not desire … Richard.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam groaned and then instinctively, heedlessly claimed her mouth; Miss Bennet definitely did not wish to be released from his warm embrace, ever. The couple was oblivious and did not hear the approaching soft footfalls and swish of expensive silk gowns.
Lady Anne Darcy: “Nephew!!! Miss Bennet??? Oh, Lord!”
Miss Anne de Bourgh: “Whoo-hoo! The fat is in the fire now. I mean, tsk, tsk. Shame on you, Fitz!”
Miss Anna Darcy: “Cousin! (Gasp!) Jane! What are you two doing?”
The military officer groggily disengaged his lips from the intoxicating osculation, and his passion-filled eyes suddenly opened wide as he became conscious of his surroundings and the scorn of three female relatives. Still, he did not release Jane from his protective embrace as she hid her flushed face on his chest.
“Richard Cosmo Fitzwilliam! Unhand Miss Bennet this minute! Be a good soldier and march into the library while I send for your father. Anna, please go tell your uncle he is needed immediately. Anne, please escort Miss Bennet somewhere and ascertain whether she was … under duress.”
“Pardon me, Lady Anne. There is no need. I can assure you right now that I was under no duress. I am thoroughly ashamed of my conduct, but please do not blame your nephew. The fault was not the gentleman’s.”
The Colonel protested, “Miss Bennet! The fault was most assuredly mine, and I most willingly take full responsibility for my ungentlemanly actions.”
“Richard, I told you to wait in the library.”
“Um. I cannot go in there right now, Aunt Anne.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Uh … well, it is currently occupied.”
“By whom?”
Sorry, Darce, old man. “Your son is in there.”
“Well, I shall certainly just boot him out of there.” Lady Anne jangled the knob, yet the door remained closed. “Richard, why is this room locked? You just informed me Fitzwilliam is inside. Is he unwell?” Lady Anne narrowed her eyes at her nephew, who at once looked anywhere but at his aunt’s face. In an ominous voice she said, “Is there, by any chance, someone in there with my son?”
The normally brave military officer cringed and said quietly, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet is in there with him, ma’am.”
The lady swooned and would have crumpled to the floor if not for her quick-thinking, fast-acting niece, Miss Anne de Bourgh.
Behind the closed library doors, Fitzwilliam Darcy slowly turned to determine whose feminine gasp he heard before his fickle fiend of a friend fled and the military officer deserted. When he beheld Elizabeth, he experienced mixed feelings of relief as well as intense humiliation. There she stood, with her back pressed against the door, as she stared at him with huge eyes. He held his hands out in supplication and said, “It was not what I think you think. I think.”
“Well, Mr. Darcy, that is probably not quite true; because I certainly do not know what to think. Though I believe I just saw Mr. Bingley in a position in which I was rather hoping to find myself later tonight.”
“Miss Elizabeth, I shall not bear false witness. I … I do not bear waltz fitness.”
She stepped away from the door, paced a few steps, and unthinkingly ran gloved fingers through her hair, dislodging a ringlet Rachel had so carefully arranged. “Mr. Darcy, are you a trifle foxed? You are not at all speaking in your usual articulate manner.”
“I apologize, madam. I assure you I am stone cold sober. I hope you and I shall always be straightforward with one another and avoid any further misunderstandings. The simple, unvarnished truth is I am not an accomplished waltzer. I did not want to be an embarrassment to you or, heaven forbid, humiliate myself. I did actually learn the steps last year but was not a great proficient.”
“Sir, the dance is just now making its way to our shores; so none of us are truly proficient … well, with the exception of some young officers like Lieutenant-Colonel John Dun perhaps. He spent some time on the continent and learned to waltz there, but … Mr. Darcy! Did you just … growl, sir?”
“Please tell me you did not waltz with Dun.”
“Oh. Very well then, sir. I will not tell you.”
“Miss Elizabeth, the waltz is considered quite immoral, you know, because of the … close … embrace … madam, what are you doing?”
She stood directly in front of him and had reached for his right hand. “I am offering my services as waltzing instructor, unless you would rather recall Mr. Bingley to continue.”
“Who? I do not recall a dance instructor by that name.”
“Very good, Mr. Darcy. Now, move in a bit closer. Closer. Stop! My goodness! Back up a bit, sir.”
“Must I?”
“Yes!”
He reluctantly complied but rakishly smiled at her.
“There. Good. Now, sir, take your right hand … and … very good. See. You know just where to put your hand. Oops. Ah, Mr. Darcy, that is no longer my waist … Perhaps this is not such a wise course of action … Oh! My! Very, very good, sir. You move so … wonderfully and … masterfully. You are actually making it difficult to concentrate when you look at me in such a manner. Whew! It is rather hot in here, is it not? Sir, I really do think it would be best if we return to the ballroom now, before we … ah … Mr. Darcy, I can certainly guide you through these steps while on the dance floor, although you really do not require instruction at all. It is quite easy … and beautiful … and … my goodness! You are a very apt pupil, sir. I believe you could teach me a thing or two. Oh, how did we end up so close together again? Mr. Darcy, we simply must return to the ballroom now, so we can put this rehearsal to practical use.”
“Not just yet, my love.”
They had stopped dancing but held their positions. Fitzwilliam Darcy prepared in the highest spirits for the conquest of all that remained unsubdued of her heart, trusting it was not more than might be won in the course of the next few moments. He smoothed her wayward curl back into place, and then his hand slid down to cup the side of her face.
“I grow impatient with this drawn-out courtship, Elizabeth. I need to know, for certain, you will forever be mine. You were quite right earlier today. I have been courting you for the past fortnight; and although it may be somewhat unconventional, those elapsed two weeks shall have to serve as our official courtship. Since parting with you this afternoon I have struggled to find a perfect way to propose, yet words utterly fail to express what I feel for you. You deserve the sentiments of a poet, but I refuse to employ another man’s words.” He roguishly smiled at her and continued, “Although I did toss around the idea of discovering what a certain army officer said during his failed offer and then saying the complete opposite. I thought that way I might be assured of a positive response.”
“Oh, Mr. Darcy! Sir, how dare you bring up the thought of another man during such an intimate moment; and you were doing so splendidly up until that point.”
“I was?” His other hand had found its way to her face as well, and his long thumbs caressed her rosy cheeks. “Then please immediately forget that nonsense. You must allow me to continue in the previous vein and tell you how ardently I admire and love you. For love you I do, Elizabeth Bennet, with all my heart and soul, and always will. You are the most beautiful woman, both physically and intellectually, I have ever beheld. I love your wit, your joie de vivre, your kind and caring nature, and the way you look at me … like you looked at me on the lawn at Pemberley, and the way you are looking at me right this moment. Please say it means you return some measure of what I feel. Please say you will make me the happiest of men by consenting to be my wife and the mother of my children. Elizabeth, my one and only love, please say you will marry me.”
Elizabeth moved even closer, raised her right hand to his face, and dazzled him with the full force of her smile. “I return equal measure of what you feel, Mr. Darcy. In fact, my cup runneth over with love for you. We must be the two most fortunate people in the world to have formed such a strong attachment in so short a time, and I truly do not know what I did to deserve such happiness. Most matches are made for wealth or connections; so I can scarcely believe my fondest wish of marrying for love is coming true, for love you I do, Mr. Darcy.”
The gentleman reminded himself to remain a gentleman and settled for a chaste kiss on her forehead. She felt his lips curve into a smile against her skin as he said, “Answer the question, please, Elizabeth.”
“Oh, but Mr. Darcy, if you will review your engaging proposal, which I shall probably spend the rest of my life doing, you will find there was no actual question. Perhaps you should have consulted the book for advice on how to make an offer.”
“I am almost afraid to ask. What book, madam?”
“On Bended Knee by the author Neil Down.”
“God, how I love you, you impertinent little minx!” Fitzwilliam Darcy lowered himself and, on bended knee, gazed up at her, and said, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, will you please marry me?”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy, I would very much love to marry you and be your wife; and if you can bear my teasing, I shall most willingly bear your children.”
The general consensus of the Quality guests at the lavish ball given by the esteemed Darcy and Fitzwilliam families was that the extravagant event was going extraordinarily well. Matlock Manor was done up in Town bronze; and it glittered with candlelight, crystal, and costly gem-encrusted jewelry that adorned the ladies. Attendees were fashionable, musicians superb, dancing refined, supper delectable, and conversation sophisticated. Miss Anna Darcy had played the pianoforte brilliantly, and her proud father had happily announced to the assemblage the engagement of his elder daughter, Miss Georgiana Darcy, to Mr. Ellis Fleming. There had been warm rounds of applause for both the sweet young performer and the handsome couple; and then anticipation grew as most of the company eagerly awaited the grand finale, which was to be the controversial new dance, a waltz.
Behind the scenes, pandemonium ruled as the manor’s servants pandered to guests’ requests, some mannered and others ill mannered. Young pages were paged to assist footmen, who were run off their feet with many servile feats. The butler whined about the wine cellar’s rapid depletion as attendees were wined and dined; and he was glad the ball would soon wind up. After supper was served, the chef, his assistants, and their tempers finally stopped steaming, stewing, and simmering. Unfortunate scullery maids would labour until daylight before they were all washed up.
Above and beyond the overworked servants, a few other occupants of Matlock Manor had not exactly enjoyed the night’s proceedings. Lady Anne Darcy had collapsed outside the library; and Miss de Bourgh had summoned Lady Rebecca’s efficient French abigail, a pretty maid by the name of Mademoiselle Frances Atwarre, who brought the English patient around with smelling salts. Miss Anna Darcy had fetched her uncle; and after his sister recovered from her swoon and related the sordid story of Richard and Miss Jane Bennet, the Earl dispatched an express message to a home several blocks away. Lady Anne left her brother to deal with his youngest offspring while she headed back to the library and an ordeal involving her eldest.
A sheepish Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam was escorted to his mutton-chopped father’s study, where he was raked over the coals and lambasted for unseemly behaviour and its ramifications. As a soldier, the officer was used to standing in formation to receive information; so with the best intention, not to mention apprehension, without pretension he stood at attention to defend his own contention.
Jane had been taken aside by Miss de Bourgh, and Anna soon joined them and tried to comfort her friend while the raised voices of her uncle and his son filtered down the hall from the vicinity of the Earl’s study. Miss Bennet was absolutely mortified, guilt-ridden over her shameless conduct, and torn between wanting to flee and the need to take a stance with Richard while he faced the music, even if she did not particularly care for the tune. “Oh, Anna, I am so sorry for causing such turmoil; and I believe it would be preferable for me to leave now. I should fetch my sister from the library; and regardless, we really must warn Mr. Darcy and Lizzy before … ”
Anne de Bourgh interrupted, “No, Miss Bennet. Please do not go in there. I have every reason to suspect you would barge into the middle of a marriage proposal. At least I think that is what Fitzwilliam and your sister are doing behind closed, locked doors … although Aunt Anne has just returned and obviously has visions of another sort of engagement.” Three heads turned to watch a determined Lady Anne Darcy as she fumbled with a large ring of keys confiscated from her disgraced nephew. She finally found the one to open the locked library, and it soundlessly turned in the keyhole.
There had been uproar at another London townhouse when a messenger arrived with a dispatch requesting the immediate presence of Mr. Thomas Bennet at Matlock Manor.
“Thomas, you are not leaving without me! If something has happened to one of our precious girls, they would want their mother in attendance. Oh, my dear, what do you suppose is the matter? We should never have permitted Jane and Lizzy to attend that ball without a chaperone.”
“Come along then, lovey, but do not agonize yet over the reason. Our daughters are in good hands with our Darcy friends. Whatever has transpired, I am confident it must not be of a serious nature.” His face underwent a change as he muttered, “However, if even one hair on their beloved heads has been harmed, I may become quite barbarous.”
As they hurriedly entered their carriage, Mrs. Bennet had dramatic visions of the last legion of handsome barbarians plundering and pillaging at Matlock Manor.
The anxious Mrs. Bennet might have been comforted had she known that in Matlock Manor’s library at least one handsome barbarian was not engaged in any plundering or pillaging; and although Mr. Bennet felt confident his beloved daughters were in good hands with their Darcy friends, he might not have been comforted had he known where one of those hands had touched Lizzy during a waltz run-through. In fact, ‘run through’ might very well have been the action taken against the young man. Said fellow was actually making a valiant attempt to keep himself under good regulation by maintaining a safe distance from the temptation of his fetching fiancée while he enjoyed the pleasure of her exclusive company. Darcy searched the shelves for a book of sonnets by Shakespeare, in love with the idea of reading one or two to his future wife. As he ran his hand along the spines, the title Lost Empires, by Zan Tium, diverted him until Elizabeth reclaimed his attention.
“Mr. Darcy, I wonder why Jane has been delayed for such a stretch of time. What now seems ages ago, I opened the door to this room seeking a moment of privacy; and my sister was supposed to meet me here directly. With her help, I need to repair … something … before I am able to return to the ballroom.”
“Elizabeth, may I be of assistance?” He walked over and stood toe-to-toe in front of her.
How can a man look so divine, smell so heavenly, but have such a devilish twinkle in his eyes? “Good heavens, absolutely not, sir! I mean, no thank you, Mr. Darcy.”
“Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, we are betrothed now. Could you not call me Fitzwilliam rather than ‘Mr. Darcy’ or ‘sir’ whenever we are alone?” She nodded; and he continued, “We have been fortunate to have this time in private. However, we really should return to the ballroom now. I would certainly not want to miss the opportunity to finally waltz with you after agonizing all evening about doing so. What may I do to help you?”
“Perhaps you could locate my sister and send her to me, sir, … Fitzwilliam.”
“Sir Fitzwilliam? I do not believe you are entitled to bestow that title, my love.”
“Teasing man!”
“Never fear, milady. Sir Fitzwilliam, the advocate for missing sisters, shall set forth immediately on a quest for his true love’s lost sibling.” Darcy kissed Lizzy’s forehead again, purposely strode across the room, and yanked at the doorknob. “What the … ?”
“Oh, I completely forgot. I do believe your cousin locked us in on his way out.”
“We are locked in? That insolent, insufferable instigator and his insupportable interference!”
“Yes, how insupportable. Instead of leaving, you loitered and got locked in the library with Lizzy. Lousy luck, hmm?”
Darcy quickly returned, slid his hands around the column of her graceful neck, gently stroked his thumbs against her smooth skin, and gazed into her fine eyes. “Elizabeth, time alone with you has been priceless and precious; and I suspect I shall have to thank Fitz for it. Nevertheless, until your father has sanctioned this betrothal, we must be circumspect. You are the best thing that has happened in my life so far; and were I to circumvent propriety and give in to my lustful, licentious longings, lady, your lovely, luscious lips would be long-lastingly locked with mine in a lascivious, lingering, loving kiss.”
“Oh, my! Well, then. Yes, I do see the point of your alliterative circumlocution, sir. Under the circumstances, we must certainly not circumvent propriety but instead should practice circumspection. In order to circumscribe limits, perhaps we should retreat to the circumference of the room to avoid circumstantial evidence should we be discovered. Oh, where is that insufferable, interfering instigator with the blasted key; and what has detained dear Jane? Regardless, before we are rescued, Fitzwilliam, would you please avert your eyes while I attempt to repair my … ”
“Are you sure I cannot be of assistance in the repair of your … ?”
Lizzy closed her eyes and grew dizzy as she envisioned Darcy’s long fingers slowly and sensually smoothing her stocking up along her calf, stroking her sensitive skin, and taking their time to tenderly tie the garter’s broken ribbon around her trembling leg. When her wayward thoughts reached a fever pitch, she teetered on the edge of reason and breathlessly replied, “N-no, th-thank you. It would be more prudent if I tend to this myself. Now turn around please, Fitzwilliam.”
The gentleman most willingly complied. Lizzy raised her skirt and fumbled with a frayed knot on the broken ribbon. When the door unexpectedly burst open, she faced her future mother-in-law and was caught, red-handed, securing her garter, with the right side of her gown hiked up to her thigh while Fitzwilliam Darcy stared intently at the proceedings in the mirror over the mantle.
As the two young ladies entered the ballroom together, Anne de Bourgh glanced at her cousin, frowned, and said, “Anna, were you not supposed to have retired to one of the guest chambers by now? In fact, your mother and I were escorting you there when all hell … er, when we encountered Richard and Miss Bennet.”
Her younger cousin giggled and replied, “Yes. With all the mayhem and trauma, Mother has conveniently forgotten my curfew.”
“Well, as your slightly older and much wiser relative, I suppose I should probably remind you it is long past your bedtime, young lady. That said, I shall not mention it if you do not.”
“Thank you, wizened old wise woman. With such aged wisdom in your possession, can you foresee what betides Fitz and Jane? I admit their situation worries me, Anne. What do you suppose will happen?”
“I am sure the details are being hammered out amongst the occupants of our uncle’s study as we speak. However, I have every reason to suspect you will very soon gain not only Mr. Fleming as a brother, but also Miss Elizabeth as a sister, and her sister as a cousin. My goodness, our family is growing by leaps and bounds.”
“Oh! Speaking of leaps and bounds, I have recently heard from Pemberley that my rabbit, Herr Stewart, is actually a fraulein. Still, it is merely haresay until she produces babies. Would you like one if that happens … or should I say hoppens?”
Miss de Bourgh rolled her eyes and sighed. “You really do need to go to sleep, Anna. You are obviously overtired. But I shall indulge you and play along. You know Mother would pull her hare out if I brought home a pet.”
“What would Aunt Catherine do if you brought home a certain handsome, blonde-haired, blue-eyed pet? Look, Anne, he is coming our way.”
“Who? Oh. Why would I take Mr. Bingley to Rosings Park, you silly goose?” The two young ladies giggled as he approached.
Charles Bingley’s face had gradually diminished from the crimson of the library to a nice rosy hue, and his eyes twinkled as they settled on Miss de Bourgh. “Ladies, I hope I am not interrupting the secret laughter of women, but I was wondering whether you know the whereabouts of Fitz or Fleming. I believe I know where to find Darcy, but I seem to have misplaced my two other best friends.”
Anne de Bourgh said, “Locate Georgiana, and you will undoubtedly find her fiancé. They have been inundated with an accumulation of congratulations in anticipation of their upcoming affiliation. The other gentlemen, I believe, are also with their intended brides. Something is in the air, Mr. Bingley, and I would be surprised if the parson’s mousetrap has not snared at least another of your circle of friends this magical evening. As perhaps the only remaining eligible bachelor of your coterie, you are welcome to remain with us, sir. If I am not mistaken, which I seldom am, you and I shall soon be standing up together again anyway.”
Charles Bingley admired the girl with a pearl earring peeping out from beneath her light brown curls. She looked charming in her pretty pale pink gown; and he spoke honestly when he said, “I am very much looking forward to that dance with you, Miss de Bourgh. I have not had the pleasure of waltzing since … ” The young man suddenly and inexplicably coloured up again and amended his statement. “I have never before had the pleasure of waltzing with such a lovely young lady as yourself, madam.”
“I am duly flattered, sir. Do I understand, however, that you have, indeed, already embraced another for such a decadent reason?”
Bingley gulped and his face matched the red of Fitz’s brilliant coat. “I … well, ... I have learned, after all.”
“Perhaps Darcy should have sought your expert advice, then. As you know, my poor cousin has been worried sick all evening about humiliating himself during the waltz.”
A distinguished, middle-aged gentleman approached the party; and he wondered why Bingley was so highly flying his colours, until George Darcy’s eyes grew wide at the sight of his sixteen-year-old daughter still in the ballroom during the wee hours of the morning. Anna was not yet out and was supposed to have retired immediately following her performance after supper. He promptly sent her off to bed and then inquired if any of the party had recently seen his wife. Anne informed him her aunt had briefly suffered from a fainting spell, was fully recovered, and most likely with Fitzwilliam and Miss Elizabeth in the library. The gentleman bowed and took his leave.
What was a mother to believe, especially having just witnessed the libidinous actions of another male relative? Darcy’s mother had entered a locked room that was occupied by two people of the opposite sex who were obviously besotted with one another. They had been alone for far too long, not to mention the fact Miss Elizabeth was caught as she redressed in a single man’s presence. Lady Anne hoped the problem could be redressed in private. “Well, then! Am I to assume congratulations are in order? I insist you tell me a wedding has at least been discussed. Fitzwilliam George Darcy, I am shocked and disappointed by your behaviour, as well as that of your rapscallion cousin, Richard. I put the blame on your reading about that libertine Valmont. My dear son, I know you wish to marry Miss Elizabeth. Even so, could you not have waited?”
“Why should I have waited? Elizabeth has made me the happiest of men, Mother.” His chest puffed with pride as he said, “She agreed quite willingly.”
Lady Anne turned a gimlet eye toward her future daughter-in-law; however, before she could start to ring a fine peal over her for anticipating their vows, the young woman thrust her skirt back down and spoke. “No! No more misunderstandings! Pardon me, Lady Anne, for speaking thusly. But it is not what you think … that is, if you think what I think you think. I came to repair my … garter!” Elizabeth reddened; but her eyes flashed as she continued, “Your son was here with Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Bingley. Both of those gentlemen immediately departed when I entered, and your nephew locked us in. Fitzwilliam has made me an offer of marriage, and I have most ecstatically accepted. Yet that is all that has happened in this room. I am a gentleman’s daughter who was taught right from wrong by my parents and governess, Nannie MacFee. I am a graduate from the very proper St. Trinnean’s Seminary for Young Ladies and am most certainly not a woman of easy virtue!”
The young man finally gained realization of the conversation’s content. Mother never did approve of my reading Valmont and said the book would be a bad influence. Then she found me alone with Elizabeth and assumed we … Good God! He was aghast and only managed to stutter, “Mama mia! Did you actually think … ? How could you possibly assume … ? We most certainly have not … !”
George Darcy entered the library. Upon witnessing his wife’s evident embarrassment, the younger lady’s overt outrage, and his son’s apparent agitation, he calmly stated the obvious. “There appears to be a bumble-broth brewing hereabouts. My dear Anne, I was informed by Anne you earlier experienced a fainting fit. Are you well now?” The gentleman gently supported his wife’s forearm and put two and two together. “You three appear at sixes and sevens. Tell me at once, what is amiss with Miss Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam?”
“My dear husband, there is nothing truly amiss. The only bumble-broth is I foolishly leapt without looking, to a very wrong conclusion, which, I am vastly embarrassed to admit, made me actually swoon for the first time in my entire life. As you can see, I am fine and do not need your support with which to stand. Notwithstanding, your son and Miss Elizabeth do have important news to impart.”
“Well, they may have to stand in line. I just met the Earl, Richard, Miss Bennet, and her parents in the hallway. Your brother is soon going to announce to our guests the engagement of his second son to Miss Elizabeth’s elder sister. Perhaps we should be there for … ”
“WHAT?! Excuse me, sir. But … my sister is to marry Colonel Fitzwilliam? My parents are here? Good Lord! What has transpired while we were alone in here, Fitzwilliam?”
Before her husband could also jump to a wrong conclusion, Lady Anne said, “Go stand in that line to make an announcement, George. There is another engagement of which our guests should be informed. Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth are to be married as well. We are to gain a regular out-and-outer as a daughter-in-law. Is that not wonderful news?”
“Indeed it is, my dear. Congratulations to you both.” The gentleman kissed Elizabeth’s cheek and added, “You are very welcome to join our family, young lady. I can tell from the unrestrained look on his face you have made our Fitzwilliam euphoric with your acceptance.” He shook his son’s hand and said, “Shall we proceed to the ballroom and make the joyful announcement before the waltz begins? We most certainly do not want to miss being involved in the upcoming scandal about to take place under this roof.”
Fitzwilliam raised a hand and said, “Wait. Once again we are all jumping to a conclusion. I must first speak with Mr. Bennet and gain his permission for the honour of his daughter’s hand. And when did you last see your father, Elizabeth?”
As soon as Lizzy entered the ballroom with her fiancé and future in-laws, she spotted her mother and father and rushed to join them while Fitzwilliam and his parents followed at a more sedate pace. Pleasantries were exchanged; and when Lizzy inquired about her sister’s sudden betrothal, her mother gave the pat answer, “I shall explain later.” Mr. Bennet and the junior Darcy walked a short distance away for a few moments of private conversation and returned just in time to applaud the happy news of Colonel Fitzwilliam’s engagement to Miss Bennet.
When the applause died down, George Darcy consulted briefly with his son and then stepped forward to make his own announcement. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention for just another moment, please. I know many of you are anxiously and eagerly waiting to partake in the onset of a bold and exciting new trend. We will very soon be ending our evening together in a most beautiful, albeit controversial, manner. However, before we start the music, I have an especially important announcement. Earlier you learned of the engagement between my daughter, Georgiana, and Mr. Ellis Fleming; and we have all now just heard the happy news about my nephew, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, and Miss Jane Bennet. Obviously, there is something in the air tonight. Or perhaps it is in the smuggled … er, imported French wine.” Polite laughter followed, and he continued, “Love is evidently all around us at this assembly, because I am very proud to tell you of the betrothal of my son, Fitzwilliam Darcy, to the charming and Original, with a capital ‘O,’ Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Murmurs of surprise, envy, and glee gave way to jubilant applause as George Darcy beckoned the happy couple forward. Many in the crowd were astonished to see Fitzwilliam Darcy in such high spirits and actually beaming; and more than a few female hearts were set aflutter as he turned to his fiancée, gazed lovingly and passionately into her eyes, raised her hand to his lips, and then possessively tucked it into the crook of his arm. His father raised his hands to quiet the crowd as he continued, “Thank you all for attending tonight; and now, family and friends, let us celebrate these three joyous betrothals … with a waltz! Lord Matlock, please escort your lovely wife to the dance floor. Lady Anne, shall we? Musicians, let the music, the waltz, and the gossip begin.”
The Earl of Matlock led Lady Rebecca onto the dance floor to start the controversial new sensation. George Darcy and his wife followed; and then other daring couples, bold enough to try the intemperate waltz, began to leave the sidelines and joined them.
Fitzwilliam Darcy proudly escorted his radiant fiancée through the throng of relatives, friends, and acquaintances bent on offering hearty congratulations and best wishes. The newly betrothed couple graciously smiled and courteously thanked everyone, but they were bound and determined to find an available spot on the dance floor. Since they had already embraced and waltzed in the privacy of the library, they were eager to do so for a second time and gave not a thought to holding one another in public once they again became cocooned in their own world. The handsome young gentleman in the black tailcoat and trousers, snow-white shirt and cravat placed his gloved right hand on the yellow silk covering Elizabeth Bennet’s tiny waist. He inhaled her heady perfume and gazed into the sparkling, intelligent eyes of the woman who would soon be his wife. The strains of the beautiful waltz music began, and they stepped into the romantic dance in perfect rhythm. Darcy and Lizzy moved as one, smoothly and surely. As they glided and twirled, the candlelight caught and reflected the tiny, glittering spangles on the lady’s shimmering dress. The gentleman’s coattails billowed, and the hem of Elizabeth’s flowing gown swirled and floated around her as they circled the dance floor. The dazzling couple outshone all others, not only with their grace and style but also by the blissful expressions on their smiling faces.
The majority of dancers were understandably tentative, uncoordinated, or downright clumsy; and some were embarrassed by their obvious ineptitude. But frequently overheard expressions of apology were also oft times accompanied by peals of laughter and gaiety as ladies and gentlemen tripped, toes were trod upon, and couples collided. Darcy and his bride-to-be had silently found a rhythm all their own as they held each other and elegantly waltzed around the room. Elizabeth felt as though she were floating while she matched the exemplary lead provided by her tall, strong, debonair partner as he moved with style and grace. Her head was delightfully dizzy, and her body tingled wherever it made contact with his. Breathless with exhilaration, she wished the waltz would never end.
With a tear in his eye, Mr. Bennet watched his two beautiful daughters as they moved around the dance floor with their dashing fiancés. Although he occasionally frowned when a male leg came into contact with that of Jane or Lizzy, he thought the waltz was actually quite graceful and not in poor taste at all. He turned to his wife and said, “Frances, my love, would you do me the great honour of dancing the remainder of this set with me?”
“Why, yes, Mr. Bennet, you devilish old coot. I would very much like to give this new dance a whirl.”
No longer under the watchful eye of his future father-in-law, Colonel Fitzwilliam pulled Jane a bit closer than the accepted distance for a waltz. “My darling girl, I am so sorry you are being rushed into this engagement without an actual courtship. You deserve so much better. Truly, do you have any regrets?”
“Absolutely not, Richard, not a single one.” She smiled and then amended, “Well, perhaps one regret.”
“Tell me, and I will do everything in my power to make it right.”
“I regret we were interrupted earlier, and I do not mean being caught. That goes without saying. I just wish we had been able to continue …” Jane blushed and lowered her eyes. When understanding dawned on the Colonel, he immediately manoeuvred their position to a set of open doors leading to a conveniently close balustrade and waltzed his fiancée outside. They stared into one another’s eyes for a few seconds before he dipped his head and did everything in his power to erase her one regret.
Similar to another newly engaged couple, Fleming and Miss Darcy moved together with perfect timing. Azure eyes gazed into indigo eyes as time stood still for the young lovers. The glowing, fair-haired lady was completely focused on the tall, dark, and handsome man who held her in his embrace while she recalled the first time they met. Georgiana had been attracted to Ellis even then, and it was quite obvious theirs was not the only attachment formed on Pemberley’s lawn one sultry summer afternoon.
“Georgie, my dearest heart, you suddenly have a rather mischievous glint in your eyes. May I ask what is running through that very pretty head of yours?”
“You may ask; and I may tell you sometime, but not now. Oh, Ellis, this has been the most wonderful night of my life! I am to wed the most magnificent man in the world, and my two best friends will marry my brother and my cousin. ’Tis too much! By far too much! Oh, why is not everybody as happy?”
“Well, I am, most certainly.” He remembered there were other people in the room; and he took a quick glance at them before adding, “And if I am not mistaken, there are lots of other joyful people here as well. Just look at all the beaming faces surrounding us, Georgie. Like your father said, love actually is all around us tonight.”
Charles Bingley and Miss Anne de Bourgh may not have been as well coordinated as Darcy and Elizabeth, but at least they did not tumble down like several other unfortunate colliding couples. Bingley and Anne merely laughed away their missteps and awkwardness and waltzed on. They spoke on many topics and found they truly had much in common. Both had a close female relative with ‘issues’, and those ladies had caused considerable embarrassment over the years. They also discovered those same women, coincidentally, had equally set their caps on Fitzwilliam Darcy. Bingley’s sister had pursued Pemberley’s heir hoping to become Mistress of the estate he would someday inherit, and Lady Catherine aggressively promoted a match between her daughter and nephew.
“Miss de Bourgh, I have often heard Darcy and Fitz make mention of you in a most complimentary and affectionate manner. Why would you not want to wed someone like Darcy? He is handsome, I suppose; wealthy, certainly; and quite intelligent, really. Is that not what a girl wants in a husband?”
“We are more like brother and sister than cousins, Mr. Bingley. Besides, Fitzwilliam is far too taciturn and staid for my liking. Although I appreciate the importance of being earnest, I prefer being in the company of more fun-loving, frivolous people.”
“I am frivolous, and I love fun. For all the years I have known Fitz and Darcy, I am rather surprised our own paths have not previously crossed, Miss de Bourgh.”
“Well, sir, I am seldom permitted to spend time in Town. So, unless you have crossed Rosings Park’s pathways, it may be pathetic but not really surprising our paths never crossed until tonight.”
While they danced and enjoyed being in one another’s company, Mr. Bingley and Miss de Bourgh discussed literature, the arts, items in the newspaper, and the latest gossip.
“Miss de Bourgh, have you read the novel about the musician in treble? It was a real cliffhanger.”
“Oh, Mr. Bingley! You ruined it, sir. You were supposed to say clef-hanger.”
“Oops. Drat! Sorry. Just the same, I did hear of some treble at the new music store on Bond Street. It was robbed, and the thief made away with the lute. Speaking of loot, have you heard Miss Pearl Loyne is suspected of stealing a brooch from Miss Plaist?”
“Oh, dear. What happened, Mr. Bingley?”
“They could not pin it on her. They did, however, pin a famous writer for stealing an idea for a stage drama; and he is now considered a playgiarist.”
“Tsk, tsk. Before writing his final version of the play, he should have had a pre-text.”
“Yes. I suppose authors’ lives are punctuated with good writing periods. Nonetheless, in my opinion the fellow should have been more pen-sive. My sister, Caroline, usually mends my pens for me, but she will soon be going away to live with our aunt and uncle. I suspect my handwriting shall suffer, and it is already nothing to write home about.”
“Mr. Bingley, to write with a broken pen is pointless.” Anne gave him a teasingly coy smile and exaggeratedly batted her eyelashes. “I mend pens remarkably well, sir.”
“Do you know, Miss de Bourgh, you make a good point for furthering our acquaintance? Please allow me to ask you a question point-blank. May I please call on you tomorrow?”
“I hope you make a point of it, sir.”
Whenever Bingley and Anne stepped on the other’s toes, they apologized for the misstep. Step-by-step, they became accustomed to dancing together; and it was a step in the right direction. When they parted, the young gentleman had a spring in his step as he silently recited from Alexander Pope’s ‘An Essay on Man’: ‘Hope springs eternal in the human breast: Man never is, but always to be blest’.
Miss de Bourgh made a mental reminder to jot down her feelings later. Her daily journal was like a confidante, and she had named the diary ‘Brigette Johns’.
An avid reader, Charles Bingley recalled a section of a letter from Werther, the main character, to his friend, Wilhelm, in the book The Sorrows of Young Werther by Wolfgang von Goethe: ‘Never had I danced more lightly. I felt myself more than mortal, holding this loveliest of creatures in my arms, flying with her like the wind, till I lost sight of everything else; and--Wilhelm, I vowed at that moment that a girl whom I loved, or for whom I felt the slightest attachment, should never waltz with another, even if it should be my end!’
A duchess, who was quite stricken in years, exchanged curtsies of common courtesy with Miss Elizabeth and complimented her. “I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear Miss Elizabeth. Such very superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident you belong in our first circles. Allow me to say, however, your handsome partner does not disgrace you. I hope to have this pleasure often repeated, especially when certain desirable events, my dear young couple, shall take place. Three upcoming weddings in one family! What congratulations will then flow in. Have you two set a date yet?”
Darcy replied, “Your Grace, Elizabeth and I plan to marry before Christmas. We will then journey to our estate in Northumberland and spend at least a month in the country.”
“Winter in the North Country! Brr!” The elderly woman shivered. “How will you keep warm?”
Darcy and Lizzy did not have to say anything. Their eyes, which were locked on one another, and their blushing cheeks painted a picture that spoke a thousand words. The duchess smiled fondly at the couple. “Oh, yes, … to be young again and in love! But let me not interrupt. You will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitchment of one another. I believe your bright eyes are upbraiding me. I am done to a cow’s thumb anyway and shall soon take my leave. Enjoy the rest of the waltz, my dears.”
The latter part of this address was scarcely heard by Darcy. “That interruption has made me forget of what we were talking, my dearest, loveliest, loveable Lizzy.”
“I do not recall we were speaking at all. Her Grace could not have interrupted any two people in the room who had less to say. We have tried two or three subjects already without success at keeping our train of thought, and of what we are to talk next I cannot imagine. Just keep looking at me the way you have been, hold me, spin me, and waltz me around the room, Fitzwilliam. I never want this dance to end. I am surely in heaven here and now.”
“We will be in sheer paradise when we arrive at our estate, my love. What think you of living in the rugged wilds of the North with me?”
“What are rocks and mountains to the man I love? I would follow you to the ends of the earth, Fitzwilliam. Oh, what hours of transport we shall spend! You give me fresh life and vigour.”
“Elizabeth, you already have enough life and vigour for three people, which is fortunate. We have a lot to accomplish in the next two months. Northumberland may not be another country, but the climate is quite different up there. You must prepare and shop for a cold winter … warm boots, gloves, scarves, hats, muffs, and a pelisse or two. To plan ahead is pre-fur-able.”
“Will I have to witness the return of your frosty disposition?”
“Elizabeth, when we are alone together up there, ice-olated, just the two of us … ”
“Fitzwilliam! Just the two of us? Shall we not have servants? Am I to do all your cooking and cleaning? What have I gotten myself into? What have you gotten yourself into? I cannot cook, sir. We shall be not only cold but hungry too. This will not do!”
“Elizabeth, are you getting cold feet already? There is a whole household of servants, my love … an excellent chef, housekeeper, butler, footmen, and maids galore. There is a fireplace in every room, and a thousand acres of wood to fuel them. We have trunks full of blankets, bricks for warming, and cozy beds in our chambers. We shall be neither cold nor hungry, and I promise to keep you warm.”
“I am quite warm right now, so perhaps we should waltz often while up north.”
“That can be arranged; and it is, indeed, a very good idea. As you are already aware, I tend to forget if I do not practice.”
“Practice makes perfect, Mr. Darcy; and I know you do strive for perfection.”
Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790) ~ Poor Richard’s Almanac (June 1746)