Page 21 of Most Truly the Gentleman

As Mr John Goulding asked the admiral how many pirate ships he had captured, Mr Darcy and his cousin noticed the ladies and bowed. “Are you enjoying the evening, sirs?” Elizabeth asked.

They replied that they were, though Elizabeth felt the colonel was the only one entirely honest in that reply. They spoke for a time of the entertainments planned in the neighbourhood over the coming fortnight, a tea at Purvis Lodge and an evening of cards at Denby Hall, and the gentlemen suggested that Bingley had decided upon a date for his ball, which would be revealed very soon.

Those assembled having sufficiently exclaimed over that hint, Charlotte posed the colonel a question about his horse. This gave Elizabeth the chance for a brief, private conversation with Mr Darcy. She commented sympathetically that he looked as though he had a headache. He admitted to just a touch of one, but assured her that it, and the noise which spawned it, were yet bearable.

Miss Bingley and her sister intruded in that moment, bustling up to Mr Darcy and surrounding him, very nearly pushing Elizabeth away, declaring that they must have his opinion on whether Miss Bingley’s sapphire necklace should suit her peach silk ballgown, for he had seen both, though not together.

She felt very sorry for him—his expression was entirely stoic, yet she saw unhappiness in the tense set of his shoulders—but there was nothing she could do for him without being quite rude, so she turned away and joined Charlotte in speaking with Colonel Fitzwilliam.

14

INVITATION TO A BALL

Fitzwilliam followed Darcy into his room when they returned to Netherfield that evening. Seeing his night clothes laid out, Darcy dismissed his valet, saying he would tend to himself after speaking with his cousin.

“Well, Darcy,” the colonel said, “here is what I cannot make out—have you acted to save the incomparable Miss Elizabeth in order to pursue her yourself, or merely to one day see her wed to a better man than Mr Collins? Make no mistake, you will see it, for if Bingley does not wed Miss Bennet I shall eat my shako.”

“The latter,” Darcy replied firmly.

“And yet you like her very well.”

“I do,” he admitted. “But she is hardly suitable.”

“She is a gentleman’s daughter, a beautiful and witty woman whose company you enjoy.”

“Which makes her an acceptable acquaintance, but she has no fortune, a ridiculous mother, two wild sisters, and an uncle in trade. It will not do, Fitzwilliam.”

His cousin shook his head but said only, “I would not be so fastidious as you for a kingdom. Good night, Cousin.”

Mr Collins and Mary spoke studiously of theology over breakfast, and though her mother solicited Elizabeth’s opinion several times in a blatant manoeuvre to bring her into their conversation, Mrs Bennet subsided after Elizabeth persisted in cheerfully declaring that she was certain Mr Collins and Mary knew far more about the matter than she herself ever would.

The afternoon brought Mr Bingley and his sisters with an invitation to his ball, to be held on Tuesday evening. The ladies of Netherfield professed their pleasure in seeing Jane again so soon and said nothing at all to anyone else where it could be avoided. Their expressions would seem to indicate that the house was afflicted with an unpleasant aroma they strove mightily to ignore.

When Mrs Bennet had displayed the invitation, printed on a fine, thick card, to all her daughters, and assured Mr Bingley several times that they would certainly attend, receiving in return his assurance that Mr Collins was included in the invitation, Mr Bingley addressed them with a more serious mien than was his wont.

“You would surely have heard of it soon in any case, but I hope you will inform Mr Bennet that the receipts for Mr Wickham’s debts which were paid by my friend and never repaid arrived by messenger yesterday while we were all at Haye-Park together. Darcy and his cousin left today at the same moment we did, to present them to Colonel Forster. There can be no doubt remaining that they have spoken the truth about that man’s proclivities, I hope.”

Elizabeth was not at all surprised, for she had not once questioned the colonel’s honesty, but it was a heavy thing, to know that such a man dwelt in proximity to them, and that so long as he attended to his duties, he must remain. Her sisters, save the openly disgruntled Lydia, received this news solemnly, and Mr Collins shook his head and muttered something about vipers. Mrs Bennet fanned herself with the invitation and declared, “It is dreadful indeed, sir, to know that such a man walks among us! But we shall not associate with him. I cannot imagine that anyone with any pretension to respectability shall!”

Mr Bingley opened his mouth to reply, but was forestalled by an exclamation from Mr Collins.

“Quite right, madam!” he cried. “And while I am here, you may be assured that this snake in the garden of Hertfordshire shall not approach your daughters. I will defend my dear cousins with my very life if I must!”

Elizabeth was hard-pressed not to laugh at this ridiculous pronouncement, though she rather thought the foolish man might truly mean it. Mr Bingley looked a bit silly for a moment, but recovered himself and said, “I imagine that all the gentlemen of the area will be looking to the ladies’ protection so long as he is about. I certainly shall, and I feel confident I may speak for my friends in this, also.”

“This is, I think, a timely reminder that a lady cannot be too much guarded in her behaviour towards the undeserving of the other sex,” Mary pronounced solemnly. Kitty and Lydia rolled their eyes and Elizabeth bit back a sigh, but Mr Collins beamed at her as though she had unlocked a great theological mystery, and hastened to voice his agreement.

The Bingley party left soon thereafter. Mrs Bennet was swift to push the talk back to the delightful subject of the ball, enquiring whether Mr Collins would dance, with many significant glances in Elizabeth’s direction.

“A ball of this kind, given by a young man of character, must always be a suitable entertainment,” he replied with great satisfaction. “I plan to dance with all my dear cousins in the course of the evening, but I hope that Cousin Mary will do me the honour of accepting my hand for the first.”

“Mary?” Mrs Bennet squawked, as her third daughter gaped at Mr Collins.

Recovering herself before her mother could object, Mary said, “Thank you, sir. I am pleased to accept.”

Some half an hour later, Kitty and Lydia announced that they wished to go into Meryton to look at shoe roses and begged that one of their sisters should accompany them, as their father had ordered. Mary, to her relations’ surprise, declared that she was in need of a new ribbon herself and would attend them. Mr Collins was quick to attach himself to the party, and they were all out the door within minutes of the initial request.

Mrs Bennet then turned a gimlet stare upon Elizabeth and demanded, “Lizzy, what have you done? You have driven Mr Collins away!”