Upon arrival Elizabeth and Jane were promptly introduced. Jane to the Viscount and Lord & Lady Matlock, Elizabeth to the father and son. She found the former far more agreeable than she had previously, the son, she found perfectly civil. The viscount had an air of distraction about him. Elizabeth suspected he wished himself away, or in attendance at some other amusement, though she could fault nothing in his conduct. He promptly requested sets of both Elizabeth and Jane, and with such civil indifference, that neither could suspect any other motive than his mother's insistence. Colonel Fitzwilliam, for his part, greeted them enthusiastically and secured the hand of the eldest Miss Bennet, having already secured a set from her sister.
Lady Catherine muttered civilities in a perfectly uncivil tone. Her sister, she thought, was unworthy of any effort to conceal her disdain. The discussion in the carriage had previously distracted Elizabeth from rivalry between them, but the manner in which they regarded one another, promptly reminded her that her peace was at risk from their games. Thinking it very unlikely it could improve upon her happiness; Elizabeth had no interest in their aiding their designs. Then she realized with relief, it was very unlikely any of her ladyship's connections would deign to call upon her in Cheapside, once she removed there. Little harm, therefore, could come to her by indulging the scheme. Let them vex each other as much as they wish.
"Dear girls," Lady Matlock said, ignoring Lady Catherine entirely after a shallow curtsy. "You must not concern yourselves with how few of your acquaintances will attend this evening's entertainments. Pray, trust me to look after you. Neither of you shall want for partners."
Having no scruples about vexing Lady Catherine further, after her behavior toward Jane, and now thinking herself safe, Elizabeth said, "We thank you for your kind attentions, ma'am, and for your invitation. We are exceeding grateful for your efforts but pray you shall not trouble yourself over much on our behalf."
Sufficiently piqued, Lady Catherine interjected. "They shall have no need of your intervention. I shall see to them myself." She huffed, moving herself in such away it forced her charges towards the ball room and away from their host. Upon entering, the ladies were greeted with all the splendor one would expect in the quality of arrangements, and of the persons in attendance. The room was grand, the occupants felt themselves grander still.
Lady Catherine took hold of her charges and began promptly introducing them to everyone known to her. Her only occupation, at present, was outdoing her sister. Her determination was all for making use of her only advantage: Lady Matlock was detained greeting her guests. Gentleman young and old were impressed upon, instructed even, to request a set. If their countenance implied that they were ill inclined towards the amusement, or preferred the card room, they were scolded into better humor, and made to solicit their hands. The humiliation was great; even her mother's machinations were insufficient to induce such mortification, at least she attempted to persuade. Elizabeth could only pray that Darcy's arrival would come sooner rather than later. Surly, that will provoke her ladyship more still. A rivalry to match Jane and me with suitors could scarce be expected to then be her concern. Protecting her daughter's interests will naturally come before the implied insult from her sister. Lady Matlock's interference with Mr. Darcy will answer my wishes in more ways than one. It is singular, I suppose, to wish the appearance of someone I like so little, for merely the purpose that he might be interfered with by someone I can like even less. Yet, until Lady Catherine is otherwise engaged, we can hardly hope for relief.
As Elizabeth and Jane had nearly every dance spoken for, due in no small part to Lady Catherine's machinations, her own hopes were finally answered. Noticing the vexation on Lady Catherine's countenance, she turned to discover the cause. It was by no means unexpected; Mr. Darcy was being introduced to a young lady. Her ladyship glared, sputtered, then motioned them to follow. Lady Catherine was not yet without consideration; it could hardly be right to leave two young ladies unattended at a ball. She remained excessively attentive to such things, even amidst such provocation as this; her countenance parted the crowd, she was clearly not without purpose. Even those who outranked her simply made way; Jane and Elizabeth were left to follow.
"Darcy, you will dance with my charges, the both of them." Said Lady Catherine as she approached and he bowed, sparing no time on civility, nor even a second to ascertain what was being said before she interrupted.
"Of course, he will Catherine. I have already reserved his first set for Miss Elizabeth." Replied Lady Matlock in a condensing tone, thinking nothing of answering for Darcy.
Darcy looked up, taken aback, and reviewed his surroundings. Standing next to his aunt was a woman perfectly well suited to the gossip that she often employed and from behind her stepped Elizabeth! She was hardly who he had excepted his aunt to foist upon him. How had that come about. It answered his own wishes, he needed to speak with her at once. Nor would he wish his Aunt Catherine to say more. "I would be delighted." He said bowing.
Still feeling all of the ill luck of his appearance that morning, and having not yet read the letter, Elizabeth made her reply. "That set is already taken, and as you are so little inclined toward the amusement, I beg you would not trouble yourself further. I am not so uncivil as to force my company upon you."
The ears of the gossips perked up, Lady Matlock made to protest, but Lady Catherine would not be made to fault a partner that she had procured. "Darcy, you are to request another set at once, and one of the eldest Miss Bennet. The elder sister should be asked before the younger." Lady Catherine said, utterly insensible of any reasoning that would prevent her from scolding a man of eight and twenty, and within hearing of anyone who had cared to listen.
He turned to Miss Bennet, having no desire to again be reprimanded. "Miss Bennet, might I beg the pleasure of your hand."
"I would be delighted. My second to last has yet to be requested." Jane said. Her words were everything proper, but her expression conveyed little joy.
Turning back to Elizabeth, Darcy said, "Miss Elizabeth, might I request another set."
"If you insist, but as the inducement is not tolerable enough to tempt either of us, I will then urge you to answer your own wishes. I am not the sort of girl to seek a gentleman to lend me consequence. You are all politeness, on this occasion, but I hardly see a reason to trouble yourself." Elizabeth said coldly, though not uncivilly.
Darcy understood her at once, he was the fool that had slighted her. He nearly blushed for it now, wishing his present scruples could have prevented the insult from every taking place. Everyone else stared, hardly knowing what to make of the matter. Who dared refuse such a man? Had Darcy ever before been spurned? What was the history between them? They all suffered having no answer to the same questions, but not one of them dared to speak.
Ever master of himself, Darcy betrayed nothing of his shame. "I assure you, nothing could delight me more. Only a fool would harbor such sentiments. Which set would best suite you?"
"I suppose the second following supper would suit well enough." Elizabeth said.
Lady Matlock, hoping to avoid the gossips being further feed, turned to Elizabeth and Jane, and said, "My dears, do take a turn with me, that I might introduce you to some of my acquaintances." Her machinations for Darcy could not now take precedent. Lady Catherine might as well frighten whomever she wished. For God's sake! Someone would think him in debt, or in someway unworthy, to have a country nobody so happy to slight him! Lady Matlock's censure was immediate, her plans for Darcy would not be put off by someone of so little consequence. Elizabeth was subject to a look so unforgiving, and so fast, that as they turned from their present group, she immediately felt the warning and then all at once it was away, and just as they approached the first party. Elizabeth could only assume her ladyship to be well practiced; none but herself could have taken notice of the reproach.
Lady Catherine committed herself to Darcy's side. The appearance was as though she were chaperoning him, as if he were a maiden. The ridiculousness was not lost on anyone who had the privilege of observing them. She guarded his notice, scowling at any who might be tolerable enough to tempt him. The gossips stared confounded, they suddenly departed his side all abuzz. It could mean only one thing! Darcy was in want of a wife and Lady Catherine meant to ensure that none, but her own daughter, would receive any consideration. The only young lady he had expressed any preference for—in whom he had ever shown any real interest—was the one who would not have deigned to dance with him, but that propriety demanded it of her. That settled the matter, every meddling mother instructed their daughters to treat Darcy as though he was unworthy of consideration; dances were to be accepted begrudgingly, he was to be made to earn their good opinion. If Mr. Darcy wished for a challenge, so he would have it. He was on the hunt and the good man desired a chase.
Every gossip, every matron with a daughter not yet wed, watched him watching her. He was seen to scowl at her dance partners, he was seen to discreetly glance around and then glance at her, at least when it could be supposed he would not be caught. She had some little fashion, as evidenced by her gown, but she had no fortune, nor connections of note, she was handsome, but no great beauty. What could it then be, they all wondered aloud? They could only credit her disinterest in him, his having to earn her favor.
His duty to his aunt was accomplished in spite of Lady Catherine, he kept the young ladies in partners, accepted the necessary introductions––and with slightly more civility than was his wont––but his eyes aways strayed back to her, and the matrons all took their turn to catch him in the act. He was too distracted to take note of the sudden coldness of manner from the ordinarily solicitous young ladies, even with those that previously pursued him. They felt the insult all the more for it, his indifference was such that he took no notice even of their incivility.
The matter only came to his notice when a matron, with her back turned, was scolding her daughter as he approached, "For God's sake girl learn to scowl, he has ten thousand a year. I insist you stop your attempts to gain his notice. He desires a woman to lead him on a merry chase. Have not you heard? A young woman did her best to avoid a dance, and he did everything in his power to insist upon having her hand. Mr. Darcy, who has never showed anyone particular attention!"
He immediately veered left of them, abandoning the idea of requesting a set. He wished, rather than believed, that such nonsense would not travel far. Knowing though, that gossip moved with more speed than a well-sprung carriage—most especially, when a single man of good fortune was the subject—that he could not hope to sit for supper before every unattached young lady began to employ such arts. Despicable, to condescend to such cunning, attempting to captivate. She deserves the misery she invites. I can only pity the fool who offers for her.
Whatever his sentiments, he felt his sudden lack of consequence. He knew their purpose, but still felt the slight. The woman of society may understand the aim, but the gentlemen of his acquaintance might feel him fault. He sighed, realizing his failing; had his preoccupation not prevented him from the observation of his partners, he could have blighted the rumor by abandoning anyone playing at such games.
It was finally the supper set; Elizabeth was engaged with someone dull but harmless. Colonel Fitzwilliam, Darcy noticed, was now dancing with the eldest Miss Bennet. He had chosen his set well. Having missed each other at Darcy House, he had yet to speak with his cousin. He could only hope his set with her would go so well. He studied her, her manners where pleasing but he had to acknowledge the absence of the spark in her eyes. Her conduct where was very near what they were with Bingley, but it was not quite the same. He realized now, like him, she was reticent, but made a marked effort to please everyone. She is always kind, though not always encouraging of her partner's interest. There was sufficient interest; she was a notable beauty in any ballroom. It was unjust to assume her heart could not easily be touched. She is generous enough to consider the feelings of those she dissuades and encourages them elsewhere.
The sisters naturally looked for one another as they were being escorted into supper, Mr. Darcy moved to join their party, his aunt just behind him. When they sat down to supper, therefore, Elizabeth considered it a most unlucky perverseness which placed them so near Mr. Darcy, with only Lady Catherine to separate them. At least Colonel Fitzwilliam could be counted upon for good humor, though my partner will have nothing interesting to add. She was deeply vexed to find that her partner was needed elsewhere upon a glare from Mr. Darcy, who promptly took her partner's former seat. His aunt was talking to that person who had been hoovering about them before (the one who busied herself with gossip) freely, openly, and of nothing else but of her expectation that Mr. Darcy would be soon married to her darling Anne. It was a subject that animated her more than any other, and she seemed incapable of fatigue, or discretion, while enumerating the advantages of the match. They, having been formed for each other and from the same noble line, the fortune on both sides being splendid, and him being already so attached to Rosings, and it was such a comfort to think how by the voice of every member of their respective houses they are destined for each other. It was the favorite wish of her dear sister and there was nearly nothing to be done but their arrival at the altar. The fondness of two sisters was now to further united their families, and it was certain that they both desired the connection as much as their mother's did. It was, moreover, such an important thing the superiority was maintained through subsequent generations, as their marrying so properly, and with such attention to what out to be, must do everything it should to secure Pemberley and Rosings for some number of generations.
As to her current charges, that she was obliged to go into company more than she liked, was a small matter, as they must marry, and they must marry well. It was necessary to make a considerable effort, in such circumstances as these, because in the case of five unmarried daughters, and an entailed estate, there was nothing else to be done for it, they must have some society better than what they had become accustomed to, or they would all be dependent upon her parson when the father suffer the inevitable. No one was more likely than herself to find them better husband, she therefore was obliged to quit the comforts of Rosings. She concluded with good wishes that all such young ladies would be equally fortunate, to have such a patron, though evidently and triumphantly conceded that there was no chance of it. Few troubled themselves with the concerns of others, as she often did, though she felt it her place to see matters where properly seen to.
Darcy frowned at his aunt from a distance, but it did nothing at all to temper her inclinations. By the time the gentleman returned with the ladies' preferences, no part of their business remained concealed—except, of course, for the matter that had, in fact, brought her ladyship to Town. There could be not profit in that business being relayed, being very well versed in society gossip, her ladyship relayed the narrative that would illustrate to her advantage.
Jane's countenance betrayed no real feelings, an only quietly spoke with Colonel Fitzwilliam; it was as though they were entirely insensible of the discourse just across from them. Elizabeth wished she could be free from the offence of Mr. Darcy's further notice; though he sat within a very short distance of her, quietly disengaged, he never troubled himself enough to speak, even though it was he that had chased off her partner. Not one word did he issue to discourage his aunt, no effort was afforded on anyone's behalf. When his countenance betrayed anything, it was a brief look of disapproval; she saw none of the censorious looks he had so willing bestowed upon her family. She felt the hypocrisy of it and could not like him any more for it. What little he did betray, she thought it to be the probable consequence of his aunt's allusions to his own wedding and rejoiced in it. Let him suffer with the rest of us then, if he will not trouble himself.
Their small party was amongst the last of all the company to quit dining. Lady Catherine was the cause of the delay; she must have her fair share of the conversation. No longer being of a constitution to dance, and with two changes to chaperone, supper was the means for a matron's ends; it was there that their machinations might bare the most fruit. All of the younger members of the party grateful to finally quit the table, they made sufficient haste to the dance floor to begin the next set.
Darcy, particularly vexed as Elizabeth lined up with her next dance partner, turned to his aunt and said, "Madam, I urge your intervention with Miss Elizabeth's present dance partner." Where the hell is Richard? He thought, looking around.
"He is of excellent family! She should be grateful he condescended to dance with her." Lady Catherine huffed. Her ideas on knowing one's place in society had not withstood the test of Lady Matlock's intervention. She would not be out done, it was for her to expose the Bennet sisters to the best partners, her offering could not be seen as paltry, compared to her sisters.
"Madam, he is of the worst sort, and your reputation shall suffer as well if you will not ensure your charge is returned to your care." He made a swift gesture towards one of the doors and offered to cover another. Darcy's concern was considerable, she was not the sort of girl society would cut such a man over. Elizabeth had nothing but his aunt, little seen in society, to protect her; it was unlikely any would remember her name after this evening.
For Elizabeth's part, she was not enjoying her dance. Her partner was asking odd, seemly irrelevant questions about her relations. He seems to wish to verify that I am without any real importance in the world. His eye wondered up and down her figure, and without disguise, or any attempt to appear to be looking elsewhere. Her maidenly sensibilities were insufficient to imagine his depravities, but still, she could feel the danger of him. It was meant, she thought, to impress his superiority upon her—that she should know her place—that she was of such little consequence, that she was to understand that she was at the mercy of his whims. To him, she was but a toy in the hands of a spoiled child, and was to be grateful to be toyed with at all. She was livid. He is mistaken if he thinks I will tolerate his conduct.
As the dance concluded, he began swiftly leading her the in the opposite direction that he ought. "Sir, my chaperone is in the opposite direction."
"There is a great deal more to entertain you in the Library. The sort of girl that attempts to talk of books in a ballroom, ought to know to expect an invitation to the library."
Elizabeth scoffed, taken aback, but not yet desperate. "I thank you, but I will return to my party."
He grasped her arm harder and began leading her off the floor faster. She felt herself unequal to extracting herself from the situation; he was stronger. She could hardly expect to escape ridicule and ruin if she cried for help, society would deem her somehow deserving, but nor would she leave the room. Her eyes searched for someone of consequence to whom she had been introduced. Liking her plan only slightly more than her partner, as soon as she laid eyes on Mr. Darcy, she gracefully kicked her partner just below his ankle, making use of his surprise to unentangle herself. "Mr. Darcy, would you kindly return me to your aunt? My partner has lost his way. I would not trouble his lordship further for all the world."
He nodded to Elizabeth, delivered her partner a glare, and ushered her away before he could witness the reprobate clench his jaw. As he approached Lady Catherine, his other aunt joined them. Having already presumed the worst, Lady Matlock whispered, "What are you about Catherine, to let her dance with such a man?"
Lady Catherine, thinking only of herself, and incensed she had lacked the knowledge that would have lent foresight, ensured those near enough could hear. "I am not ignorant, mind you. She is of the highest virtue, or I would not have put her near him. Miss Elizabeth Bennet is exactly the type of woman who could reform him and make him stay at home. I daresay, she is unuse to submitting to anyone's whims and would not tolerate his habits. He has his heir; he has his dead wife fortune—who was of excellent blood—he is exactly the sort who ought to marry as he chooses."
Lady Matlock leaned in speaking in a very low tone, still seething. "I suspect you were entirely ignorant of the danger, which is precisely why you have no business assisting those young ladies in society." Then raising her voice to make herself overheard, she said. "Of course, I may look after your charges. I am quite fond of them myself. It is dreadful indeed that you should feel yourself overcome, but you must rest. At your age, one cannot be too careful. I shall see them home."
"I would be pleased to offer my carriage," said Darcy.
Colonel Fitzwilliam hid a smirk, but Elizabeth responded. "Thank you, sir, but that is impossible. We are situated separately at present."
Knowing it could not be done, with one sister to be left off before the other, he said, "Where are you staying then?"
"It is of no concern," Elizabeth turned to the elder woman and said, "If it is too much trouble, Jane and I shall depart as well."
"Of course not, it is nothing to provide a carriage and footman. I would not have you miss your chance." At least not when I might be the victor in both squabbles with Catherine. Darcy would be maneuvered, and the Bennet sisters would be her success. She began sweeping her sister from the room, as though she were a maid pushing a broom. Each time Lady Catherine began the first syllable of protesting such a plan, Lady Matlock would interject with something increasing condescending. "There now, you mustn't push yourself…. You ought not worry, we shall look after them for you…. You have your health to consider…Anne needs you… At your age, we fear for your health if you remain…" Her ladyship's condescending, insincere, sympathy continued the entire way to the entrance, where she nodded to the footman, who barred Lady Catherine's remittance. Unable to return and keep her dignity, her ladyship kept herself silent in her displeasure. Her carriage was call for as she declared the benefits of fresh air, and she departed in a huff.
Darcy escorted Elizabeth to the dance floor, still livid about her last partner; she still feeling contempt for him in general. At present his mind was set upon the danger she had put herself in, and it caused him to forget his purpose.
"Madam, I must insist you take more care in your dance partners. He is not the sort of man who ought to be trusted."
"Indeed, the fault is in my quarter, for assuming your aunt's introduction to be at least as reliable as a good character. I thank you for you censure, I had been operating under the faulty apprehension that a young lady was censured for refusal by having to sit out and that it might invite further rebuke if one's chaperone did the insisting. To think, without the benefit of your understanding, I would suffer still in such ignorance. I can only hope to one day have manners that are remarked on such as yours."
"I only meant to ensure you were not taken in by him. Any rogue can make himself agreeable for the length of a dance."
She raised her eyebrows in a manner so mocking, he could hardly mistake her meaning, but before he could act, she continued her censure. "If it is so easily accomplished, I wonder then, why others have yet to adopt the technique. Though, I suppose, I have been made to understand that some will not trouble themselves to."
"My cousin is very much in the habit of expressing opinions that are not his own but, that won't move me from my purpose. Your situation in life is not sufficient to protect you from such a man."
"Pray, are you to afford me the disservice of believing me to fall for the smile of any charming rogue, or am I too insipid to look after my own interests?"
"I shall not say that you are mistaken," he replied, "because you could not really believe me to entertain any idea of your being insipid. As to looking after your own interests, I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know you perfectly cable of enacting your own designs You know very well, I only mean to warn you of those in society that should not be entertained."
"My dance partner had as much to say about you, as you do of him. I quite assure you, though, I only adopt another's counsel when it resonates well with my own experiences. Shall I then give you an example?" She said, thinking of Wickham, not waiting for a reply. "If it were told to me that someone thought so little of those, he deemed beneath them, and felt it not wrong to redesign their expectations, and merely for the sake of his own wounded pride - I would only believe those words to be true if I had seen that person behave with a selfish to disdain for the feelings of others."
Knowing at once of whom she was defending, he spoke without consideration, "Miss Bennet, that you would think such a man worthy of your defense, even," he said, getting quitter, "with what you've come to understand, I can only think your contempt for me to have blinded you."
"What I have come to understand?" she said, incensed. "I understand this, you declared my sister's heart not be not easily touched, without troubling yourself to know her—and merely because she is shy. And yet, when has she ever once issued an insult, or censure, or lacked consideration for the feelings of others, or rejoiced in their suffering? Yet, you expect me to believe you some good judge of character, trustworthy to determine when another's future ought to ruined by your doing? I may not have liked my partner, but you might understand why I like your opinion on the matter even less."
She was so predisposed to think ill of him then, that even in the wake of Georgianna's missive she remained unmoved. You must think I poisoned my sister against him for no purpose but my pride. As the steps off the dance brought him back around to face her, he hardly knew what could be said in company that would not provoke further discourse. "Pray, do not punish my sister for your beliefs about me."
What ever does he mean by it! It was galling to be accused by a man that acted precisely that way himself. "Mr. Darcy, I am not the sort of person who would harm a young lady because I think little of her relations. You may be assured, I have no notion of taking your example." With that, she curtsied, he bowed, and they saw no more of each other in the course of the evening.