A/N: And finally, the dance! I'll admit, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, mainly because I got to play with some more original P&P side characters - gotta love Lady Catherine.
As always, thanks to everyone who is reading :D it means so much to me!
Chapter 19: The Sin of Tepidness
To Lizzy's great credit, the Pemberley ball, in both orchestration and execution, was a wonderful triumph, and as guest, one could not help but to comment on the fineness of the decorations, or the elegance of the dishes, at least once or twice throughout the evening. All was arranged with great and exacting detail, which agreed well with the shrewdness of their executor; and if Mrs. Darcy was to look for any plain confirmation of this success, she need only see the great displeasure which settled upon the face of Lady Catherine as she first surveyed all the arrangements, insofar as it duly betrayed her Ladyship's hope that the ball's organization should have been insufficient, and would have merited ample criticism.
Among her small party, Lady Catherine had brought her frail and insubstantial daughter, Miss Anne de Bourgh, who surveyed all about her with the faintest possible interest, and with hardly any sign of recognition. She was re-introduced to Georgiana, whom she had known when they were young children, and introduced for the first time to Mary; and seemed to have no difference in reaction to either – no particular affection for her cousin, and no particular disdain for her usurper's sister; and Mary could only wonder if there were anything which would have the power to stir her, or if she was chronically apathetic to all which she encountered.
Also accompanying were Mr. and Mrs. Collins, and Elizabeth was indeed gladdened to see her old friend, and embraced her soundly, and bade her to come sit with her once all the guests had been accounted for and the first set begun.
The Bensons made for a pretty sight upon their arrival, adorned in frippery and baubles enough to satisfy a royal court; it was their first meeting since Georgiana had firmly revoked her friendship, but both sides were properly civil to each other, if not at all warm; and Georgiana was even moved to whisper softly to Mary, just after their exchange, that she was quite relieved at such an outcome, for she had feared there would be some remaining unpleasantness. Their brother, either by his own volition or following the example of his sisters, was impersonally polite, and would not be made to meet Georgiana's gaze; but his presence was in part redeemed by the young gentlemen who accompanied him, come direct to visit him from London, and who seemed of a somewhat different breed than Edmund Benson; more solemn, and, perhaps, more tepid, to borrow the earlier barbed words of Emma Benson.
But, aside from the addition of the host himself, Darcy, and the somber Lord Langton, this was the summation of all the gentlemen known to Mary who were in attendance; and as all proceeded to the ballroom, Mary repeated to herself sternly that she was not disappointed, she had not expected him to be present, of course she had not, she was only slightly anxious; but the unpleasant coldness which was slowly filling her chest belied these assertions.
That she should truly spend the evening with Georgiana at her side, as had been promised, had seemed to Mary increasingly unlikely; for Georgiana looked that evening the most radiant Mary had ever seen her; and indeed, she was reserved for the first set by Sir Arthur Baynes, with whom an introduction was made, albeit reluctantly, by Edmund Benson.
Thus, as the first set began, and Georgiana apologetically left her seat, Mary found it unexpectedly replaced with Miss Anne de Bourgh, with whose companionship she now seemed to be charged for the next hour; along with, of course, her overseer, Lady Catherine, and the ever-loyal Mr. Collins, who endeavoured to hover near his patron as much as reasonably possible.
"I shall be more than honored to take your daughter for the first set, your Ladyship, that she might be suitably demonstrated in her fine skills."
"Anne is far too weak for such exertion, I fear," Lady Catherine replied firmly. "She is only recovered recently from a bad bout of cold, and it should wreak havoc upon her delicate system if she were to engage in such active occupation at the moment." Miss de Bourgh had no particular reaction to this pronouncement, neither disappointment, nor relief; but as if on cue, she sniffled, and blotted her nose with a handkerchief.
Lady Catherine, meanwhile, was quite happy to have Mary as her audience, and settled in for the foreseen pleasure of a lengthy, intrusive interrogation. "Which sister, then, are you? The youngest?"
With a start, Mary realized she was being addressed, and turned awkwardly to face Lady Catherine. "I am the third youngest, your Ladyship."
"What, all of your other sisters already married?"
"Yes," Mary said, finding she did not much like Lady Catherine, nor her tone of earned impertinence. "But I do not aspire to find a husband, as it were."
"Then to what do you aspire, pray tell?"
"To my studies. I enjoy reading philosophy and moral treatises, and it provides me sufficient occupation."
"What queer notions you have, indeed," Lady Catherine said, frowning in annoyance, for she was reminded unpleasantly of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, with her directness and indifference to rank. "A lady's studies and accomplishments are only estimable in so far as they provide her with a well-rounded education, and a disciplined, articulate character; so that her achievements may serve as a proper precis for a gentleman to consider when he is selecting for himself a wife. Do you plan, then, to remain at your estate once Mr. Collins has inherited the entail?"
Here Mr. Collins hastily interceded. "But of course, she does not, your Ladyship! She has some sum which shall be set aside for her, I am certain; after all, Mr. Bennet has only the one daughter for which to provide now."
Mary felt herself go red at such a harsh declaration, and the rudeness with which it was delivered; and felt also as if she had been struck, sharply; owing to the alacrity with which her envisioned future had all at once been refused, without even a moment's hesitation.
"Ah, then you plan to become a governess!" Lady Catherine concluded at last triumphantly; for it was a great satisfaction to her, to know that one of the Bennet daughters should be in such low societal standing, as to have need to seek out a paid position. "Well, certainly, I do not wish to imbue you with false hopes; but it so happens that I was speaking to the dear Lady Carlisle only several weeks ago, and she was just then in search of a governess for her daughters – now, of course, I shall need to know more of your credentials, before you are to be referred, for I cannot be seen to recommend any young women of poor character or ethic – "
"I thank you for your interest, your Ladyship, but I am not, as of now, in need of any assistance," Mary interrupted bluntly, with little remorse for the coldness of her tone. She was unsettled still by Mr. Collins' pronouncement, and now to be thus condescended to, by this pompous, self-satisfied woman – if her Ladyship had only made some original remark, if she had said but one clever phrase, or showed but one sign of astuteness, Mary might have happily pardoned her for her petty arrogance; but as it was, she found as evidence only the virtue of her title, and was thus provoked at her pretension of superiority.
Lady Catherine was a moment stilled at such direct contradiction, so far outside the norms of decorum; and could only come to the conclusion that among all the Bennet daughters, it necessitated that one was wilder than the next; and this one with whom she spoke at present was worse even than the one which her nephew had married.
Mr. Collins came in to rectify the situation with great alacrity, delivering a look of horrified remonstrance upon Mary, and saying, "Of course, your Ladyship, my cousin speaks merely from a place of humility; you must not mistake it for anything else. She does not think herself to be worthy of such a prestigious placement, in a family as venerable as the one you have suggested."
"No, of course," Lady Catherine conceded at last, to Mr. Collins' great relief. "And on reflection, now, I do not think it should have a been a suitable fit; no, not a suitable one at all."
"I imagine not," Mary agreed, and returned stiffly to watching the pairs as they traversed the floor. The party was thus lapsed into a cold silence for several minutes.
"It is rather curious, that tori mouldings are traditionally separated by a fillet, but in this room the architects have opted for only the single ornamental torus."
Mary turned, in great surprise, to Miss de Bourgh, for this was the first she had rightly spoken all evening. "You have an interest in architecture?"
"No – not architecture, no," said Miss de Bourgh vaguely. "I am interested particularly in the rich history of mouldings. So many people do not realize the fascinating depth with which one may discuss them; they presume the subject to be dull. Do you know anything of Classical mouldings, Miss Bennet?"
Now that she had begun to speak, Miss de Bourgh had been imbued with, if not animation, at least a lesser degree of mortality; and though she sniffled still, it was somehow with a greater passion than before.
Mary was caught soundly off-guard at such a turn in the conversation – that Miss de Bourgh possessed proper, independent interests, which were not tied to sitting absently beside her mother, and was prepared to hold discourse with her on them; and also, she was privately ashamed that even to her, curious academic as she was, the prospect of learning in great detail of the various types of mouldings did, in fact, seem presumably dull. But it was nevertheless preferable to any resurrection of conversation with her Ladyship, so Mary assented that indeed, no, she was not fortunate enough to know much of the subject.
Even so, she was not prepared for the breadth of knowledge which was at that moment directed monotonously towards her, in the matter-of-fact recounting of one who was placidly reading aloud a dry text, which was both lengthy and verbose. If one was to spend all their nights and all their days learning of the minutiae of interior and exterior mouldings, and foregoing in its place all other subjects and occupations, they might have a summation of knowledge which was that which was currently held by Miss de Bourgh. All the same, Mary reddened slightly at the notion that perhaps she herself had at times sounded thus to her reluctant listeners, to whom her studies or pronouncements held no interest.
As it was, Mary was regaled with a sedate and thorough account of the various types of mouldings, of which there were many, and from whence their origin came, to which eras they belonged, the plain and important distinction between Classical mouldings and those of the Gothic nature. Unfamiliar words such as paterae, ovolo, cornice cavetto, all floated vaguely through Mary's mind as she listened, without any real meaning attached to them; she nodded attentively with each new piece of information which was delivered to her, and then promptly let it escape her memory; she found she was absently watching Georgiana while she listened, who was pink with exertion and exhilaration, and seemed to be enjoying herself most thoroughly, as she exchanged words on some subject with Sir Baynes while they danced.
Mary felt a pang of loneliness, and the old familiar beast of envy; not of Georgiana's radiance, but of her happiness; and the bitter notion that some people, of which her friend was one, and she herself was not, were inherently favored by fate, and naturally made to walk upon an exalted, gilt path, destined to encounter no obstacles or hardships in their way. But as soon as she had this thought, she rebuked herself for it, for was it not true that her poor friend had suffered hardships enough? It was simple, Mary reminded herself, to look upon happiness, and see nothing of the adversities which came before it; and to forget that such happiness was a willful decision, or act of character, rather than merely a bestowed gift.
The first set was ending, just as Miss de Bourgh was completing what Mary imagined to be the first chapter of her mental compendium, though she did not seem the least bit winded by her efforts; but she was prevented from continuing when Georgiana came directly over, followed by Sir Baynes, and another friend of Edmund Benson, Lord Henry Alstock.
"Might I make the introduction, Lord Alstock, to my dear friend, Miss Bennet, and to my cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh."
"I am afraid my daughter is not at all up to the exertion of a dance," Lady Catherine pronounced once more, "she is recovering from a terrible bout of cold." Mary could only imagine her daughter's thoughts were still fixed upon the various intricacies of ogee and fillet moulding.
"Ah, well, a speedy recovery is wished to you, Miss de Bourgh," Lord Alstock said awkwardly, and Mary realized, with some pleasure, that he had not intended to ask Miss de Bourgh to dance with him at all; perhaps, she surmised, he had merely requested an introduction, for the sake of meeting her Ladyship.
But this surmise was not quite correct, for he turned then to Mary, and said, not without first a nervous glance at the imposing Lady Catherine, "Miss Bennet. I do not suppose I might solicit your hand for the following set?"
Mary was suitably bewildered, for he had not heretofore expressed any particular attentions towards her; but when he stole a subtle, searching glance at Georgiana, who was beaming approvingly, his motivations became clearer, in that he was attempting to gain Miss Darcy's favour, by behaving gallantly towards her friend; and yet, all the same, Mary's spirits were somehow not dampened at this realization, for this same realization was not yet evident to Lady Catherine, who appeared now most displeased at this perceived injury to her daughter.
Therefore, Mary graciously assented that she was not yet reserved, and, escorted by the pleased smile of her friend, she rose to join them upon the floor; Georgiana had been a second time reserved by Sir Baynes, a dashing if rather sharp-nosed gentleman, who seemed already exceedingly taken with Georgiana, perhaps even more than the cautious Lord Alstock.
"He expressed a particular desire, that I might introduce you to him," Georgiana whispered to Mary as they came to stand upon the floor. "They are much more agreeable than Mr. Benson himself, I think you will find, or I should have endeavoured to save you from it."
Indeed, Mary found it curious that Benson should have in his friendship such courteous, unassuming gentlemen. Where she had expected to find vanity and frivolity, she found rather seriousness and refinement; and though she did not think either herself or Georgiana to be particularly enraptured by the either of them, they were not unpleasant partners; and she found there was made reasonable conversation between them, which was not particularly inspiring, nor particularly dull.
Thus, it was not such an unpleasant evening as Mary should have envisioned for herself (and, then again, not nearly as pleasant as it might have been); and by the time to break for supper, she was in a fair mood, if not an exhilarated one.
At the table, she was seated between Lord Alstock and Mr. Collins; she greatly preferred the former, feeling still a strong indignation towards the latter; but was still liable to be addressed by her cousin at times, where he spoke, in vague terms, of the vital importance of carrying respect towards one's superiors, and of the deference which was due to the fine creatures who commanded such estimable titles, say, for example, her Ladyship; and as Mary listened to him, she was rather unpleasantly astonished, at the notion that at one time she could have been imposed upon to accept him in marriage; and that she had once thought him to be in a similar proclivity and standing to herself, in his studies and learnedness.
When supper concluded, they were all escorted once more to the ballroom; but looking about, Mary could not find Georgiana anywhere; and breaking off from her company, she returned to the hall, thinking she might have dawdled over some flowers; but her friend was nowhere to be seen. Carefully, she peered into the adjoining rooms, and the dining room, where plates were being cleared; and then no sooner had the thought occurred to her that her friend might have stepped out for some air, than she was relieved to have been confirmed in her suspicions, for Georgiana at that moment stepped into the drawing room through one of the French doors.
Georgiana started to find her friend there, and Mary could at once see that something of greater import had transpired, for she was rather ashen, and wore an expression of stunned bewilderment.
"Georgiana, dear, what has happened?"
"Oh Mary, he has proposed!" Georgiana declared, visibly distraught.
"Sir Baynes?" Mary asked, rendered quite stupid with amazement; for he had seemed a level-headed fellow, and such a rapid engagement was simply inconceivable.
"No!" Georgiana cried. "Edmund Benson!"