Caroline's Ball did not begin well.
Upon entering the ballroom, Caroline perceived at least three other women wearing teal. Apparently, she was not the only one who kept up with the latest fashions in town! She might have coped better, had not the Mistress of Pemberley been one of them...
Caroline walked about the room, dexterously avoiding Mr. Westham-if confronted; she could not very well refuse to dance with him!
The line was forming into a respectable length on the floor, as the guests were getting ready for the first dance of the evening at the much-awaited Pemberley Ball. Caroline saw Mr. Darcy, in rapt attention, leading his wife Elizabeth to head the set. Mentally scoffing at them, she moved towards the punch bowl, where Colonel Fitzwilliam was standing.
"Miss Bingley! You look well this evening," complimented the Colonel, curtsying.
"Thank you, Colonel!" said Caroline with a bow, trying to look demure, but failing completely.
"Why aren't you dancing Miss Bingley?"
"I haven't been required yet. And, why are you not dancing, Colonel? Surely you do not have a partner either?"
"Oh... I do! I have the honour of dancing with the Lady Clare. I was getting her a glass of punch first," said the Colonel. He continued after a slight pause, "I would be honoured if you consented to dance the next set with me."
Caroline assented with alacrity.
The Colonel moved away, and as Caroline turned from the punch bowl, she saw Mr. Westham standing right in front of her. Caroline knew that she was trapped. They curtseyed.
"Miss Bingley, if you are not otherwise engaged, would you do me the honour of dancing the first set with me?" The dance had already begun, and Caroline decided that it would be better to dance with even Mr. Westham, than not at all. After all, she could not very well dance with one gentleman after having refused another! The rules of etiquette were tiresome, indeed!
"Yes, thank you, Mr. Westham," said she.
Mr. Westham led her to the set. Caroline swayed around the ballroom in tune to the music. Her thoughts ran, 'What a tiresome man... talks constantly!' The words title and honour floated into her ears. She mechanically assented to whatever her partner was saying, her mind busy elsewhere.
Caroline was not in a very good humour when she sat down to dinner in the adjoining room, beside Georgiana Darcy. After Mr. Westham, she had danced in that order, with Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Darcy, and another gentleman. The Colonel had talked only of Lady Clare, and Mr. Darcy, as was his wont, had been chiefly silent (though he always seemed to be able to talk to his wife constantly!).
While biting into a succulent piece of shrimp amidst her ruminations, Caroline almost choked-she had just spied the Lord Erbington talking to her brother Charles, Mr. Darcy, and a few other gentlemen on the other side of the door, in the ballroom. An old friend of Mr. Darcy's and at the prime of his life, the young lord was clearly the most eligible single man in the room! Caroline had had him pointed out to her once before, at a crowded London Ball, but was not acquainted with him herself.
Caroline finished her meal, and drawing Georgiana with her, entered the ballroom and positioned herself strategically near the small circle of friends, whose attention she hoped to catch. The silly Kitty Bennet had followed them. Mr. Grantley looked eager to approach them, but Caroline's cold looks kept him at bay.
Presently, Caroline heard a deep voice emanating from the direction of the gentlemen. "Charles, who is the delightful creature sitting by the pillar? I wish to dance with her! Darcy!" said he, turning to his host, "You must introduce me to her."
"Whom do you mean, Edward?"
Lord Erbington pointed out his special choice.
Charles Bingley replied, half-laughing, "My dear Edward, that is my sister! I will not have you trifling with her."
"But my dear man, how wonderful! And, I am not such a trifler as you think!" said Lord Erbington, with a snort!
Darcy laughed, and said, "Come along Bingley, let us indulge him. I'm sure he will not try any of his usual tricks at Pemberley!"
Rising, the three gentlemen walked towards the place where Caroline, Georgiana, and Kitty, were standing. Caroline, glowing, was trying hard to look unconcerned. The gentlemen greeted them with a bow.
"Ladies, the Lord Erbington. Lord Erbington, Miss Bingley, Miss Bennet, and you know my sister," said Mr. Darcy.
They curtseyed.
Lord Erbington turned to Kitty, "I wish to have the honour of this dance, if you are not already engaged for it!"
Before the evidently pleased Kitty could open her mouth in acceptance, Caroline's voice burst forth, "But Charles, you said... oh!" She suddenly realized whom all in the room besides herself, were now considered 'sisters' to Charles!
"What is it, Caroline?"
"Nothing, it is only that... do not you know Miss Bennet would rather dance with officers in red-coats? Indeed, at Hertfordshire, she and her sister Lydia-Mrs. Wickham, I mean-would dance with no other!"
Kitty flushed with embarrassment, and her eyes glistened with sudden tears. She excused herself incoherently from the company and left the room, followed hastily by Georgiana.
Bingley looked pointedly at Caroline, but did not say anything, and led the astonished-looking young lord away. Only Darcy remained.
"Miss Bingley, you and I occasionally delight in witticisms. However, I hope that when at Pemberley in the future, you will direct them in a slightly different direction!" said he, and walked away.