Chapter 17

After the guests left, Mr. Bennet came out of his cave and gently approached his wife. As they had agreed, he asked her for a walk. Their children were watching them with wide eyes. They all speculated on the meaning of this almost unprecedented event. They dressed for the cold weather, and Mr. Bennet lead his wife for a walk that would change their relationship forever.

They finally talked. It was not that Mr. Bennet changed overnight, but this conversation he had with his wife forced him out of his comfortable cocoon. He apologized for his neglect. He acknowledged his wife's claims of disrespect. From this day on, Mr. Bennet, forced himself to join his family more often, they would start again their abandoned tradition of having tea together in the afternoon, and he started to visit her more frequently. Actually, one could say quite often. With time they found a new equilibrium.

…

The next days up to the anticipated ball were very unkind to the populace of the neighbourhood. It rained on and off every day. It was a good thing people had the ball to look forward to; otherwise, boredom surely would have killed some of them. As it goes, the homes were busy. Dresses needed to be refreshed, cleaned, and ironed. The shoes needed to be polished. All these jobs were more for the servants, but the reader should agree that organizing it all was a job in itself. Then, there were the accessories to be decided about. After all, not every day did Meryton have a true ball. Therefore, servant and master, both were pretty busy while outside the rain claimed the land.

The Bennet family was no exception. There were five daughters to be dressed to the nines. Mrs. Bennet was exceptionally busy. Although she claimed otherwise, she enjoyed organizing everybody. The girls were experimenting with different hairstyles. Even Mary was not let to sit this out. Mr. Collins was quite underfoot. In the end, Mrs. Bennet ordered him to either join her husband or retire to his room as she had better things to do than listen to his opinions about things a man, especially a clergyman, should not even know about.

Indignantly, Mr. Collins chose his room. He shied away from joining the head of the family as he felt always nervous around him. Most often Mr. Collins did not understand what he was saying. Sometimes it even felt like he was being mocked. He used the time to finish his letter to Lady Catherine de Bourgh but left some space to report about the coming ball. He decided to post the letter after the ball, seeing that it was constantly raining outside.

…

Elizabeth looked around. The familiar interior now looked almost foreign. Miss Bingley did a good job decorating the place. It must have cost a fortune, to have flowers at this time of year. Her practical mind could not be denied. She admitted though that the result was simply breathtaking. Added to this all the people dressed for the occasion just made the place exquisite. Wherever she looked, she saw her neighbours in their very best clothes. Everybody, even men, made an effort. She smiled as she examined the charming flower arrangement on the table in the middle of one of the rooms she roamed.

She had dressed with extra care, too. He new hairstyle felt strange, but when she saw herself in the mirror, she was satisfied with her look. She had her hair all up but in curls and every curl received a pearl and a small satin flower, courtesy of Lydia. Her sister was a genius when it came to ribbons and such. She had the same flowers on the ribbon under her breast, and she even put one each on her dancing slippers. She felt like a princess. She hoped, she hoped that someone would appreciate her efforts. She could not help herself. She hoped.

Her dance card was quickly getting full and she had yet to catch a glance of him. When she finally saw him enter the room, it was after the first dance. He was clever, she had to give it to him. He was looking for someone. She stepped out from behind the column that hid her. His eyes as if told, looked in her direction immediately. Yes, she thought. It was all worth it. He looked her up and down as if he had never seen her before. He swallowed hard. He looked around, then slowly approached her.

'Good evening, Miss Elizabeth.' He bowed.

'Mr. Darcy.' Elizabeth curtsied. Mr. Darcy cleared his throat.

'You look… you look radiant.'

'Thank you, Sir. You look very dashing as well.' She looked him up and down in return. Darcy's eyes flashed. Darcy was floored by how beautiful Elizabeth looked. Her usually cheeky eyes now looked at him with the maturity of a lady. She would outshine many of the ton's debutantes, he thought. Just one dance. One more dance. He asked her hand for a dance. He received the one after supper. When he frowned, she retorted.

'It was clever of you I guess to appear after the first dance, but while you may only find me 'tolerable,' others were quick to claim my hand for the first dances.' Darcy could not but smile at her spirit. God, he loved her temper.

'You are right, as always. I should have thought my strategy through. I can only blame myself. Who is your dinner partner?'

'One of the officers. I cannot recall.'

'All right then, I will see you after supper.' Inwardly he wanted to kick himself. What did he think? That she would simply sit out waiting for him? He bowed and went to do his duty. He asked the hostess to dance.

Mr. Collins made a mental note to mention his asking Miss Elizabeth to dance in his letter. He almost felt physical joy at being able to tell on him about his disgraceful behaviour when he was promised to another.

…

Elizabeth could hardly reflect on their conversation. She saw her father leading her mother to dance!

Mr. Bennet was having a conversation with two local gentlemen, but his heart was not in it. From his periphery, he could see his wife standing with two other ladies. She stood out with her posture; her gown fit her perfectly; she looked, in his eyes, beautiful. He could not remember when he had asked her to dance. All of a sudden, he could not remember why he stopped asking. He used to love dancing with her. He was not a great dancer per se, but with her as his partner, he always felt he was on top of the world. The way she used to look at him, he remembered wistfully. Could she look at him like that again? He had many things to atone for. He excused himself when people gathered for the next dance. He approached his wife. He bowed solemnly.

'My Dear, would you do me the great honour to dance the next dances with me?' All the ladies stopped talking. They looked at him first in confusion, then in disbelief. Then they looked at the couple in open envy. His wife swallowed, her body shook with anticipation and blushed. Is he really asking me to dance? She curtsied.

'Yes, husband.'

He adored her blush. They joined the line. He kissed his wife's hand and left her to stand opposite to her and waited for the music to start. Only then he remembered that he might have forgotten the steps. He swallowed but smiled at his wife. He would just copy what others did.

Mrs. Bennet felt like in the clouds. After all these years… Could she trust him? He seemed to want to change things between them. Silly man, dancing after all these years. I bet he has not realized he does not know the steps. He was all the sweeter to her for that.

During the ball, several summonses arrived in the form of footmen into the card room. Several older gentlemen had to dance with their wives following the examples of the others. When they learnt who was to blame for this travesty, Mr. Bennet's name was cursed not once.

On the other hand, Elizabeth, joined by Jane and Lydia, had tears in her eyes as she watched her parents swirl around each other. They both had silly grins on their faces. She hoped her father finally would start to be a proper husband to his wife.

…

Miss Bingley found her for a short chat. Well, it was more of a monologue. She spoke of all the work that had to be done and how she worried about the supper. Miss Bingley was very pleased that she did not see Mr. Darcy dance with Miss Eliza. She felt immense pleasure to mention to Elizabeth that Mr. Darcy had asked her to dance and what light feet he had. She also hinted at the hope of more attentions. Elizabeth valiantly half listened to her.

…

Later, Elizabeth was glad that she could deflect Mr. Collins's attention to her friend, Charlotte. She felt a bit guilty about it, but not enough to regret escaping his interest. He gallantly asked Charlotte to dance, which she withstood. What's more, they ended up being dinner partners as the dance was the last one before supper. Elizabeth was grateful that he was occupied.

Her parents were the strangest thing to look at. Her father made both of their plates and sat with his wife to the exclusion of everyone. After all those years of marriage, what could they possibly talk about so intimately? She shook her head at the newness of their behaviour.

The only embarrassing thing at dinner was her dear sister, Mary. So hungry for attention, she performed in front of the guest without being asked. His father had to step in quietly so that others could also display their talents. There was nothing for it. She would have continued otherwise.

…

Finally, he came to claim her hand for their dance. The dances of the time were usually highly choreographed, and they involved many dancers in a formation. Because of this, if the skipping and swirling were not enough, one could not claim one's partner as they wished. Darcy and Elizabeth danced, were mostly silent, and searched each other's eyes. They relished the small touches. Halfway through, Elizabeth had the feeling that their dance was more than just a dance. Mr. Darcy almost looked… there was a finality about the way he looked at her. Hungry and hopeless. She became weak. Her legs hardly carried her through the rest of the dance. Finally, it ended, and they came together and stepped aside.

'How long do you plan to be in the neighbourhood, Mr. Darcy?' He was silent. Then looked away.

'Actually, I leave shortly after the ball.' She told herself she expected this. Her heart nevertheless constricted. Her hand went to her heart. Darcy watched her and looked helpless.

'You, you are leaving? So soon?' He just looked at her. 'Are you coming back?' He shook his head slightly. He looked down.

'Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?' He snapped his eyes back to her. 'Oh, this… was this our goodbye? This dance?… How fitting.' She could not help but laugh. Mr. Darcy did not join in.

'I must leave.' Darcy said with resolve.

'Yes, I know you must. Good decision. Good decision… Well, Mr. Darcy, I wish you well. You will be missed.'

'It is not what I want; it is what I must do. Do you understand me, Miss Elizabeth?' She could not help it; her bitterness came through.

'I thought you were your own man. But I guess we all are trapped in our roles.' She shook herself. 'You do not owe me any explanation, Mr. Darcy. We are not of each other. We are to each our own.'

'Let me say this, Miss Elizabeth. Although I must go, it was a privilege to have met you. You are a wonderful, amazing woman. And I am devastated that I cannot offer you more. I wish you good health and happiness.'

'Thank you. As I do not think we will meet again, I wish you happiness as well. I hope you will find it in following your… duty. Goodbye, Mr. Darcy.' She needed to get away. She did not want him to see her cry... Please, legs, do not let me down now. She turned and hurried away. She took her shawl from her sister, Mary, and left to go on the terrace. Darcy just stood there following her with his eyes until she disappeared.

…

On the second day after the ball, as everybody used the one after to relax, Darcy was ready to leave. He was on the way to saying his goodbyes to several households. He realized, normally he would have left without acknowledging anyone. This was Miss Elizabeth's doing. She had irrevocably changed him.

He stepped out at Longbourn. He asked to be seen by Mr. Bennet, and then he said his goodbyes to the ladies of the house. Elizabeth was not there. He looked at Jane. She just looked back at him with sadness. Mrs. Bennet was gratified by him taking his leave of them.

He was about to get back in his carriage. He stopped and turned. He felt that he was being watched. He looked up. There she was, behind the glass, upstairs. He was grateful for this one last look. She had her shawl around her; her hair was down and tied by a green ribbon. She was looking down at him. He took his hat off and bowed. They looked at each other for a few seconds, then Elizabeth put her palm against the window. Darcy moved his hand to his heart. Then he turned suddenly and stepped in the carriage. He signalled his rider to go.

He could not breathe. Nothing was worth this pain. He hated what he was doing.

…

In Meryton, he had the carriage stopped at Mr. And Mrs. Phillips' house.

He explained that he was leaving the area and that he came to pay his respects for the wonderful hospitality.

'Oh, Mr. Darcy. So soon? Are you coming back?' He explained that he did his duty to his friend and that now he had to go back to his life.

'Oh, that is too bad. I thought…' She shook her head.

'What did you think, madam?'

'Oh, nothing. Only the ramblings of an old woman.' She sighed.

'Please.'

'Well, I thought, I thought that you would be perfect for our Lizzy. You were so natural together when you were here. Then, at the ball, your eyes often found each other. Do not be surprised. I could see a lot from where I sat.' Darcy closed his eyes. When he reopened them, his pain showed.

'Oh, son, I am so sorry. Are you leaving because of her?' He could not speak. Mrs. Phillips stood and stepped to a small watercolour portrait on the wall. She took her handkerchief and dusted it, 'Sometimes I am worried about her. She is… unique. It will be very difficult for her to find the right partner. This is a small community. I am dreading that some unworthy man will have her in the end. I think you would have made a perfect couple.' She stepped back and patted Darcy's shoulder. 'I hope you find peace wherever you are going. Well, I do not want to keep you… do you have sustenance for the road?' He shook his head as he stood up.

'What kind of a hostess do you have? Wait here.' She left the room and came back after a while with a small pack in a cloth. She found him examining Elizabeth's portrait. 'Would you believe, her sister, Catherine, painted it? She managed to capture her eyes perfectly, do you not think?' He nodded. 'I have fresh scones here, and I cut them in half and put jam in it, as you liked it. I also packed some dried apricot for you. And this bottle is filled with spring water, still fresh from yesterday.' She gave him a small bottle. Darcy just stood there with the package in his hands. He looked down at the items, then looked up into the kind eyes of this sweet older lady. He stepped forward and hugged her.

'There, there.' She returned his hug. Darcy, stepped back in the next moment embarrassed.

'I beg your pardon.'

'Never apologize for showing affection, I say. It is too bad Mr. Phillips is busy. He would have liked to say goodbye. Take good care of yourself, son. Do not work too hard and remember us. If you do not find what you are looking for, you know where Longbourn is.'

…

Darcy looked outside at the fields, the hedges, and the trees. He did not see any of it. He was leaving his heart behind. He had never felt this ache. In his mind's eye, he saw Elizabeth wordlessly saying goodbye to him from behind her window. He would never forget the expression on her face. Love and resignation. He hated himself for causing her pain. He hated that he had to do this.

He had to be strong. He had his duty. How he hated the word!

…

Well, I knew this had to happen, but, boy, was this difficult to write. Would you believe me if I said I cried? Let's hope this was the worst of it. lol What am I saying, I am the writer!

Thank you for the comments about the last chapter. I long hesitated if I should upload it. I was afraid it was too much, but Bingley just made me write it if it makes sense. After that, I figured who was I to overwrite it. My fear was for nothing; you, readers are awesome.