Chapter LIV.
The Netherfield Ball, Part I:
The Darcy's Suite, Netherfield Hall, Late evening, 26th November 1820.
Elizabeth was surveying the glowing lights outside the window of her bedchamber cast by the increasing number of candles fastened upon the building, lights carried by footman as they waited to receive the guests, and arriving carriages, when a strong pair of arms wrapped themselves round her waist, the hands closing over her own.
A clink sounded as they did so, the clash of metal upon metal, created by two wedding bands and an engagement ring landing on top of each other. For Elizabeth, a single glance at the signet ring that lay of the last finger of the left hand determined to her who had his arms around her. Her husband's voice whispered in her ear, confirming her thoughts, which were by now of anything but the ball they were about to attend. "May I claim the first two dances, my beloved?"
"You may," she replied, leaning back into the loving embrace. Darcy bestowed a kiss upon her neck in gratitude, noticing with pride that she was wearing the sapphire and diamond necklace he had given her for no other reason than that she was his wife two days ago. "And the next two dances, my love?"
"Yes," Elizabeth replied as her fine eyes returned to surveying the arriving carriages.
Darcy dealt another kiss, this time upon the other side of her neck. "And the two after that?" He asked, his lips brushing her skin just above the rim of her dress, which bore, in his opinion, far too low and at the same far too high a neckline. The first because he wished no others to gaze upon his wife's beauty, and the last because he alone wished to feast upon such beauty.
Elizabeth tried to keep herself calm as she voiced her acceptance once more. She felt her husband's breath as his lips brushed the front slope of her shoulder in reply. A shudder passed through her as he bestowed another kiss at the rim of her dress and undid the first fastening clip at the back. She turned round and captured his lips in a passionate kiss.
As the kiss broke she felt another clip being loosed. "Fitzwilliam," she began in what was an attempt at mild chiding, although she had no objection to his present actions in general, as his arms pulled her closer, "we have barely five minutes. And in front of a window, I might add."
"Surely, we can be fashionably late," Darcy returned, running his fingers down the part of her back that was now exposed, making her look up at him with a gaze of anything but disagreement to his verbal suggestion. "As for your objections to the window, my love, I can soon remedy that," he added, sweeping her off her feet and into the safe carriage of his arms.
The Darcys were slightly more than what could be considered in public- or indeed in any -society as fashionably late, but thankfully for the couple, it was unnoticed by most of the company in the Ballroom as they took a place in the third dance set of the evening.
While Mr Darcy delighted in a display of 'ways and means' with his wife, the ball had continued its good beginning, managing a fine number of persons to incline themselves to open the dancing under their kind hosts.
Lydia and Lawrence were just two of these personages. The former had entered into the dance with some concern, for since she witnessed the latter's anger some nights ago, Lydia had been experiencing second thoughts about her agreement to dance with him.
Caught up by the idea of dancing after a long period of being forcibly induced to give up such frivolity, she had been unable to refuse his tempting offer, yet after his departure, the scene which she had bore witness to the day before had invaded her mind with such force as to make Lydia wish she had refused him. Throughout the coming days her doubts had continued to rise, even though she knew it was terribly impolite to retract her acceptance. So it was that she entered into the first of their two dances with some degree of trepidation.
Lawrence, although blind as to why, was not blind to her distraction as they took their place in the set. At first he tried to ignore it, thinking it was his own worries that were producing such an illusion. However, by the fifth slight shudder of her hand when she took his, he resolved that it was no mirage. Gently, he inquired, "is there anything wrong?"
Yes, Lydia could not help but think, I wondering whether I can trust you. "I apologise," she replied instead, "this is the first I have danced in a long while. My ability to perform the required steps is making me nervous."
"Well, such neglect does not show, I assure you," Lawrence replied, his concern over her deepening when he noticed her flinch as she spoke of it. What did her husband do to make her like this, he wondered, feeling sick at the thought of it. "Tell me," he added, in an effort to drive the image out of his mind, "what are your recollections of the last ball you attended here? Does this one differ much?"
"A very great deal," Lydia replied, her memories of her past fading away as she thought of the ball nine years ago, when she had been happy. "For one, my sister Elizabeth was dancing this first with Mr Collins, whose skill in dance was severely lacking!" She chuckled at the memory. "He spent most of the time colliding into other dancers!"
"And who did you dance with?"
"With Captain Denny, my favourite officer at the time. He reminds alittle of you, for he was always well mannered and witty. I wonder what has happened to him now." Lydia paused at this point as they parted briefly. When they had resumed their place at each other's side, her conversation was centred on the present. "I wonder where my sister is. She and Mr Darcy were to dance the first set."
"I daresay one or other well-meaning guests have caught them in conversation," Lawrence remarked, as Sir William Lucas passed into his view.
Sir William Lucas has not altered both in appearance and manner since our last meeting with him, and did indeed manage to catch the Darcys when they retired for a break from the end of the fifth set of the evening.
"Ah, Mr Darcy, I am quite delighted to see you and your lady wife repeat your actions from the last time," he began as the couple reluctantly came to a halt in front of him. "I'll wager you had no idea of what was to come that night?"
"You will get no argument from me sir," Darcy replied, with a smile to his wife. "I knew not what I was about nine years ago."
"And it was beholden to me to make him realise," Elizabeth teased back. "You indeed had the right mind on what was to come, Sir William."
"Yes I did indeed," Sir William replied. "I saw both yours and your sister's unions that evening. Ah, if only you had consulted me, Mr Darcy. Perhaps it would not have taken so long, hey?"
"Oh, on that I beg to differ sir," Darcy replied, with a wicked grin at his wife, "Mrs Darcy can be quite determined when she puts a mind to it."
Elizabeth knew what he was about. Pretending to be affronted, she exclaimed, "Just for that, sir, I shall retract my acceptance for the sixth set."
Darcy humbly bowed. "Will you excuse us, Sir William? I need to dissuade my dear wife of that notion immediately."
Once away, and alone in a nearby room that was devoid of people, but not of comfortable sofas and chairs, it must be said that Darcy took quite some time in his task, much to the delight of Elizabeth, that both he and his wife missed the sixth set of dancing altogether.
