Elizabeth anxiously adjusted her hair and dress one final time in anticipation of Netherfield Ball. She had on a light blue gown stitched at the top with white and silver thread and asked Hill to secure her hair with silver pins. Elizabeth acted as if she was getting ready for any other assembly or dinner party. But the truth was that she was more eager to set eyes on Mr. Wickham. She was more prepared when compared to her sisters and ready to leave for the ball ahead of time.
The door opened then, and her younger sister Lydia bustled into the room. "Lizzy, are you almost ready? Everyone's already downstairs waiting for us!"
Elizabeth nodded, still fussing with her hair, ensuring the curls would hold all night. "Yes, I'm nearly done."
"You look beautiful, Lizzy! Now come on, let's go." Lydia picked up her skirts and hurried out of the room, leaving Elizabeth alone.
She paused to take a deep breath, and after one last scrutinizing look in the mirror, she stepped out of her quarters, nearly colliding with Mary.
"Don't monopolize Mr. Collins this evening, Lizzy. He said he would save dances for all of us."
Elizabeth couldn't believe her ears: why was anyone interested in conversing with Mr. Collins, let alone dancing with him? "No need to worry. I'll leave plenty of dances for all of my sisters."
Mary solemnly nodded with a long look, then turned away to descend the stairs. Elizabeth shook her head slowly and followed her sister to the waiting carriage.
The Netherfield ball was in full swing when the Bennet family, minus the patriarch, arrived. Elizabeth quickly surveyed the room, hoping to spot Mr. Wickham's familiar smile.
"You look very nice, Lizzy," Charlotte said, smiling at her friend.
"Thank you," Elizabeth replied, glancing around the room. Everywhere she looked, people were conversing and twirling around the dance floor.
"Are you looking for someone?" Charlotte asked.
Rueful for not listening to Charlotte, Elizabeth turned with a smile and prepared to give her friend her full attention. "I expect Mr. Wickham any moment," she said, only for Charlotte to frown. At that moment, Elizabeth heard someone call her name. She spun around to find a soldier from the militia bowing his head in greeting.
"Miss Bennet, you look quite remarkably well this evening," said Lt. Denny.
"Thank you," Elizabeth said, smiling while looking behind him with a slight frown.
"I am instructed to convey to you, Miss Bennet, my friend Wickham's most particular regrets that he's been prevented from attending the ball. He's been obliged to go to town on urgent business, though I don't imagine it would have been so urgent if he'd not wished to avoid a certain gentleman." He glanced behind him to see Mr. Darcy, and as soon as Elizabeth caught sight of him, her smile dropped away.
Lydia ran up to them, her back facing Elizabeth. "Denny," she exclaimed, "I hope you're planning to join us on the dance floor tonight."
Another member of the militia who had followed Lydia interjected. "Forgive the intrusion, Ma'am. I would dance with both your sister at once if I could, but as it is…."
Lydia rolled her eyes and grabbed Lt. Denny's arm. "Oh, never mind that. Come on, Denny." She led both men away toward the set, beginning to start on the dance floor.
Elizabeth pressed her lips together in disapproval as Mr. Darcy strolled around the room's perimeter. She turned away but stilled as her cousin approached and cleared his throat.
Elizabeth gave her friend a tight-lipped smile as she made the introductions. "Charlotte, allow me to present our relation, Mr. Collins. Meet my dear friend, Miss Lucas."
Charlotte gave a deep curtsy and said politely, "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."
"Miss Lucas, I am honored to meet any friend of my fair cousins. So many agreeable young ladies. I'm quite enraptured."
Unfortunately, the previous song was relatively short. Nevertheless, the brief dance ended, and Elizabeth gave Charlotte a long stare as Mr. Collins brought her out on the floor for the first two dances.
Elizabeth was mortified when Mr. Collins abruptly changed direction and bumped into another woman. "Other way, Mr. Collins!"
She stood awkwardly as she was obligated to partner with her cousin for two full dances. Elizabeth tried to look away and pretend she had not noticed Mr. Darcy's amused smirk. But as he walked behind the dancers, trailing them with an intrigued and bemused expression, her gaze was irresistibly drawn to him.
When her two sets with Mr. Collins were over, Elizabeth rushed away to the refreshments table.
Mary leaned in close, her voice hushed. "I have a piece of news about Mr. Wickham that you must hear," she said.
Elizabeth paused, her cup of punch hovering mid-air. "What is it?" she asked.
Her sister glanced around quickly, then shook her head. "Not here," she said firmly, tugging Elizabeth's hand. With a quick pull, she led her away from the crowded ballroom.
Elizabeth trailed behind Mary, feeling baffled. She hadn't expected to be led down a dark, narrow passageway away from the grand ballroom.
"Where are we headed?" her voice followed Mary, who increased her speed, her shoes clacking against the hardwood.
At the end of the hallway, Mary reached for a door and used a nimble movement to unlock it before pushing it open and inviting Elizabeth to enter first. The room was dark, leaving Elizabeth confused about why Mary couldn't tell her the news in the hallway. Maybe she was concerned someone might hear them?
Elizabeth was just about to inquire from Mary what the news was when she heard the sound of the key turning in the lock behind her.
Terror flooded her as it dawned on her that, incredibly, her sister had barred her in the room. "Mary? Mary!" she shouted into the darkness.
"My dear Lizzy," she said in a singsong voice, "you don't think I'd let you have Mr. Collins all to yourself, do you?"
Elizabeth was utterly stunned and found it difficult to catch her breath as she listened to her sister's retreating footsteps. Until she suddenly heard something that made her jump in fright.
A loud throat-clearing interrupted her. She gasped and spun around to see a man standing in the corner near the window.
Elizabeth's face flushed as the truth of the situation hit her—the stranger had listened to everything they said, including Mary's confession.
She strained her eyes to make out his features in the gloomy light pouring through the window. Eventually, as she adjusted to the darkness, she spotted a deep blue coat and trousers that fit him snugly.
A hush fell between them until, finally, he broke the silence. His voice had the familiar drawl of Mr. Darcy's, "It appears you are locked in this room with me…."