Chapter 22 - Dancing at Netherfield

Darcy did not waste anytime leaving Longbourn, for he had no desire for a repeat of the ball. As long as Mr Collins was in the area, he would have to keep his time with Elizabeth quiet and not draw attention to it. He went quickly from the room, passing the servant who had brought them tea. She seemed to understand his haste and pointed to a door, so he opened it and saw the kitchen. Another servant stood by the fire, boiling water, but he did not wait for her to notice him. He crossed quickly to the door on the other side of the room and let himself out. He found himself standing in a small kitchen garden, and he quickly slipped around the stables where his horse was tethered.

He kept replaying the conversation over and over in his mind, looking for some expression or comment that he had missed or misunderstood. But none came. This was what he had been searching for, the missing piece of the puzzle. He finally understood her. Why she had accepted Mr Collins. Her father was dying, the estate entailed. With four sisters still unmarried and a mother to think of, she had put their needs above her own.

As the mother-in-law and sisters-in-law of the heir they would be able to live at Longbourn as long as they needed. They would be safe. His thoughts went to his sister, what would have happened to her if he was not there after their father's death.

He could not blame her for that. If only he had realized her situation sooner it might have been them that were engaged. No, he could not blame her for that!

ooOoo

Elizabeth did not linger downstairs after Mr Darcy's departure, Hill had come to inform her that Mr Bennet was awake and asking for her. Relived to have an excuse to leave Mr Collins's company and not be present when her mother returned to the house, she went quickly to her father. He was sitting up in his bed, his face pale and his eyes heavy.

"There you are, my dear," His voice was hoarse and speaking was clearly painful for him.

"Oh, Papa." Elizabeth said softly.

"We will not speak of that now, there is something else. Your mother will stay with me this evening." He paused for a moment, his eyes closed. Elizabeth, alarmed, went to his side.

She sat with him until he fell asleep again. She only left his side when Jane came to call her to get ready for their evening engagement at Netherfield.

"Mama will be with him." Jane said quietly, trying to reassure her sister.

"I know," Elizabeth replied, "but he looks so weak."

Jane gripped her hand, unable to say what they were both thinking. They got dressed and did their hair in silence. Elizabeth smoothed her dress, trying to ignore the voice in her head that whispered this should be a joyous time for a newly engaged woman. Instead, she felt only a heavy sense of duty. She had made her choice for her family's sake. She would endure, she would find a way to thrive, even in circumstances not of her choosing.

Mr Collins was waiting for them downstairs, with Mary standing close by, listening to him patiently.

"Ah, my dear Elizabeth." Mr Collins greeted her, "you look very well indeed. I am sure Lady Catherine would like that dress very much - it puts me in mind of one of Miss de Bourgh's simpler gowns that she wore one morning at Rosings."

Thankful he was interrupted by the arrival of Kitty and Lydia who joined them rather noisily.

"Jane, do you know who else is going to be there tonight?" Kitty asked.

"It cannot only be Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy. There must be at least some officers there." Lydia added eagerly.

Jane considered for a moment before replying, "I am not sure. Mr Bingley was going to ask a few others, but he did not mention who he was planning on asking."

"We shall see when we arrive," Mary interjected, her tone practical as always.

"La, how dull you all are. How can you not know Jane? You are basically en-" Lydia was silenced by Elizabeth standing on her foot.

"Ow! Lizzy, that was my foot." Lydia exclaimed.

"Oh dear, I am sorry Lydia." Elizabeth said, smiling at Jane, who was trying hard not to laugh, she added, "Is that the carriage?

The thought of dining out grated on Elizabeth's already frayed nerves. She did not like the idea of leaving her father with his situation steadily growing worse. She was also worried about seeing Mr Darcy again. She was fearful that she had made a mistake in telling him about her father. But strangely she did feel lighter, by telling Mr Darcy she had lifted a burden she did not know she had been carrying.

The journey from Longbourn to Netherfield was short in distance but long in contemplation for Elizabeth. As the carriage rolled through the darkening countryside, she found her thoughts alternating between concern for her father and apprehension about the evening ahead. The lights of Netherfield soon came into view, and with them, the necessity of setting aside her private worries for the public face of sociability.

Mr Collins spoke almost none-stop the entire carriage trip about his pleasure to be going back to Netherfield and about how it compared to Rosings Park. Elizabeth took a deep breath, reminding herself of the reasons for her choice. She would endure this, for her family's sake. She would find a way to thrive, even in circumstances not of her choosing.

They entered the drawing room at Netherfield and found that they were not the first to arrive. Colonel Foster was standing near the fire with one or two of the officers, who Elizabeth did not know.

She did not see Mr Darcy at first, but then she spotted him standing by himself in a dark section of the room, looking out of a window. Her heart quickened, though whether from embarrassment about her earlier encounter with him or something else, she couldn't quite say. She resolved not to think of him again this evening. Her mother was right, it would be better if she did not think about him at all. This, however, the gentleman in question made quite impossible.

For he turned and smiled at her and walked towards her as if to speak but Mr Collins stepped forward and engaged him in conversation. Elizabeth decided to enjoy her time while Mr Collins was not with her.

There were a few other gentleman and one or two other ladies. Mr Bingley had done well gathering a small group together. The question of music had also been resolved as he had hired two violinists to play for them.

When observing Jane's genuine happiness with Mr Bingley, Elizabeth reflected on the difference in their situations, Jane felt everything she should for him, as he seemed to for her. Elizabeth looked after to Mr Collins who was still speaking to Mr Darcy. Her feelings were not at all romantic for Mr Collins, had she not just fled his company?

While Mr Collins was not the husband she would have chosen, Elizabeth reminded herself that at least she would have the means to help her family and the opportunity to do good in the community.

he butler's resonant voice announced dinner, setting the party in motion. Though her back was turned, she could sense Mr Darcy's approach, his presence filling the room in a way Mr Collins never could.

As Elizabeth was about to leave the drawing room Kitty and Lydia pushed past her with two of the officers. She stumbled back into Mr Darcy. They were pressed close together, but the flow of people prevented them from speaking.

She thought he might lead her through to dinner, but it was Colonel Foster politely took her arm and lead her though. The Colonel sat down next to her and Mr Collins on her other side while Mr Darcy was at the other end of the table.

Elizabeth caught herself looking at Darcy, then quickly averting her gaze. She chided herself for giving his opinion any weight, yet found her thoughts returning to him again and again.

It was not until the gentleman joined the ladies in the drawing room after dinner that the dancing began. Mr Collins very quickly asked Elizabeth to dance, and she reluctantly agreed.

Mr Collins pressed uncomfortably close, his breath hot on Elizabeth's cheek as they turned. The overpowering scent of Mr Collins' pomade made Elizabeth's head swim.

"My dear Elizabeth," Mr Collins said, drawing her closer than propriety allowed, "I've been considering the arrangement of our future home. Lady Catherine has graciously suggested we might expand the chicken coop."

Elizabeth stiffened at his proximity. "Indeed?" she managed to reply.

Mr Collins, oblivious to her discomfort, continued as they turned, "What are your thoughts on raising poultry?"

"I've not had much experience with chickens, Mr Collins," Elizabeth said, relieved as the dance momentarily separated them. As they came together again, Mr Collins resumed his monologue. "

My dear Elizabeth, I look forward to seeing you greet each new day with the enthusiasm befitting a clergyman's wife."

Elizabeth silently prayed for the dance to end, acutely aware of every point where Mr Collins' body nearly touched hers. Elizabeth briefly recalled dancing with Mr Darcy at the Middletons' ball and wondered if he would dare to ask her to dance again tonight. As the thought occurred, she chastised herself for thinking it.

"I look forward to our quiet evenings together, improving our minds with edifying literature."

From across the room, Jane caught Elizabeth's eye, her concerned look confirming that Mr Collins' proximity was as noticeable as it was improper.

"I've been considering how to arrange the parsonage rooms. There's potential for expansion, should we be blessed with a growing family. Lady Catherine believes that four children is the ideal number for a clergyman's family. I trust you agree?"

Mr Collins' hand seemed to linger a moment too long on Elizabeth's waist as they turned.

"I admire your efficiency, my dear. I'm certain you'll manage our home with the same grace you display on the dance floor."

Mr Collins' eyes followed Elizabeth's every movement, his smile widening each time she glanced in his direction.

Mr Bingley however soon came to her rescue and asked her to dance for the next. Who made a much better dance partner that Mr Collins.

As her dance with Bingley came to an end a servant handed her a tall glass of lemonade. She took it thankful, her checks warm.

Are you well, Lizzy?" Jane whispered as they stood side by side.

Elizabeth forced a smile. "Perfectly well. And you? You seem in good spirits."

Jane blushed. "Mr Bingley has been very attentive."

"I'm glad," Elizabeth replied, her smile becoming genuine for a moment.

Mr Collins was of course nearly always by her side, which made conversation with others quite difficult, and though Jane and Mary engaged as much of his attention as they could, somehow he always found away back to Elizabeth's side. Luckily, he was not as used to an evening of exercise as the rest of the company and was soon forced to sit down and dance no more. Elizabeth was relieved by this and was beginning to enjoy herself again until she realized that his eyes were following her every movement.

ooOoo

Darcy watched as Elizabeth entered the drawing room, her eyes scanning the crowd. He noticed her slight frown when she spotted him, and the way she quickly looked away. Mr Collins following behind her, and Darcy felt a twinge of irritation at the man's presumptuous manner. He moved towards her to greet her. She had not been there during their call at Longbourn and Mr Collins knew nothing about the encounter in the woods, so it was only polite he told himself to enquire after her health and her father's.

Mr Collins intercepted him and engaged him a length conversation about Lady Catherine. By the time he managed to escape they were heading through to the dinning room. In the hope of being able to escort her through himself he deliberately position himself near her. Her two youngest sisters pushed passed her with two of the officers and she nearly fell into him.

Darcy was in a foul mood. It did not help that Elizabeth's younger sisters were joining them tonight and in such a small group he was forced to listen to their insipid chatter. Conversation withered on Darcy's lips, his mood as dark as the wine in his glass. Elizabeth was the only person he wished to speak to, but he feared speaking with her. Since discovering the truth it was both easier and harder to understand her.

He could not risk paying her any attention, not right under Mr Collins's nose. He was forced to watch her from afar.

Darcy took his seat at the far end of the table, frustration mounting as he realized his distance from Elizabeth. He watched as Colonel Foster led her to her seat, noting with a mixture of relief and irritation that Mr Collins had been placed on her other side. The small dinner party felt suffocating, with Elizabeth's presence both a balm and a torment.

As the first course was served, Darcy attempted to engage in polite conversation with his dinner companions, but his attention continually drifted to Elizabeth. He observed her subtle reactions to Mr Collins' incessant chatter, catching the slight tightening around her eyes that betrayed her discomfort.

"Mr Darcy," Miss King said, "I understand you have a grand estate in Derbyshire. How does it compare to Netherfield?"

Darcy's eyes flicked briefly to Elizabeth before answering. "Pemberley is… larger, certainly. But Netherfield has its own charms."

"Oh? And what might those be?" Miss King pressed.

"The company, for one," Darcy replied, his gaze once again drawn to Elizabeth.

Darcy gave a perfunctory response, his mind still focused on the couple across the table. He watched as Elizabeth skilfully deflected another of Mr Collins' overzealous compliments, her wit as sharp as ever despite her evident unease.

Each course arrived and departed, stretching the evening into an eternity for Darcy. Darcy found himself wishing for the informal nature of a larger gathering, where he might have had the opportunity to move about and perhaps speak with Elizabeth. Instead, he was trapped, forced to watch as Mr Collins monopolized her attention.

The rustle of skirts signalled the ladies' withdrawal, leaving the gentlemen to their port. Darcy felt a moment of relief the dinner was finally over, followed quickly by frustration at being separated from Elizabeth once again. He sipped his port mechanically, barely tasting it as he pondered his next move. How could he engineer a moment alone with her? And what would he say if he did?

The revelation about Mr Bennet's illness brought understanding but no solution. Darcy cursed himself for his earlier inaction. If only he had courted her sooner, it might be them engaged now, not her and Collins. The weight of missed opportunities pressed heavily on him.

If he spoke to her now, it could change everything - for better or worse. The weight of that decision pressed heavily on Darcy as he stood, frozen in indecision.

As they rejoined the ladies in the drawing room, the sight of Elizabeth sent Darcy's heart racing. The small gathering moved seamlessly into dancing, and he watched with growing agitation as Mr Collins immediately claimed Elizabeth's hand.

As the dancing began, Darcy found himself unable to look away as Mr Collins led Elizabeth to the floor. Mr Collins hovered over Elizabeth, his proximity setting Darcy's teeth on edge, and Darcy felt a surge of protectiveness. He wondered if Elizabeth felt as uncomfortable as she appeared.

"Darcy, why aren't you dancing?" Bingley asked, approaching his friend.

Darcy merely nodded towards the dance floor, where Elizabeth was still dancing with Mr Collins. Bingley followed his gaze and frowned slightly.

"Ah, I see. Well, perhaps the next set then?"

"Not yet." Darcy said non-committally, his eyes never leaving Elizabeth.

Throughout the evening, Darcy watched with growing agitation as Mr Collins hovered over Elizabeth. Each possessive touch, each overly familiar gesture, made Darcy's blood boil. Yet he remained outwardly calm, acutely aware that any intervention could jeopardize Elizabeth's position. His fingers itched to cut in, to rescue her from the clergyman's clumsy attentions.

Darcy debated approaching Elizabeth all evening. The urge to speak with her warred with his awareness of the delicate situation. Any overt attention from him could compromise her position, especially with Mr Collins watching so closely. So he remained on the periphery, a silent guardian, his eyes never straying far from Elizabeth as the evening wore on.

Noticing Elizabeth's flushed face after her dance with Mr Collins, Darcy discreetly asked a servant to bring her a glass of lemonade.

Bingley asked her to dance next, and he was relived to see her much more comfortable in his company than in Mr Collins. If only Mr Collins could be distracted.

His relief was short-lived as Mr Collins asked Elizabeth to dance again, overwhelmed by the sight of Elizabeth in Mr Collins' arms, Darcy excused himself and stepped out onto the terrace, taking a moment to compose himself before returning to the party with renewed determination.

Darcy deliberately engaged Colonel Forster in a discussion about the militia, positioning himself so that Elizabeth could easily join their conversation if she wished to escape Mr Collins' attentions.

"Fine affair, isn't it?" Colonel Forster remarked to Darcy.

"Indeed," Darcy replied tersely, his eyes scanning the room.

"Looking for someone in particular?" the Colonel asked, following Darcy's gaze.

Darcy straightened. "Not at all. Merely observing the… festivities."

As the evening wore on, Darcy made a firm decision. He would find a way to speak with Elizabeth alone, even if only for a moment. He began to watch for an opportunity, his eyes tracking her movements across the room.

When Elizabeth dropped her fan, Darcy was quick to retrieve it, handing it back to her with a bow that allowed him a brief moment of eye contact.

Darcy's eyes followed Elizabeth as she slipped away from the crowded drawing room. His heart raced as he debated whether to follow. The evening had been torture, watching her from afar, unable to speak freely. Now, seeing her alone on the balcony, he knew this might be his only chance.

"This is madness," Darcy told himself, even as he moved closer to the balcony. "And yet, can I truly stand by and do nothing?"

With a deep breath, he moved towards her, the cool night air a sharp contrast to the warmth of the ballroom. As he approached, he could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she gripped the balcony railing. He was close enough now to catch the faint scent of lavender.

"You cannot abide the sight of him, can you?" he found himself saying, his voice low and intense.

ooOoo

Elizabeth was pleased to see Jane smiling and happy. Both she and Mr Bingley seemed very happy. Lydia and Kitty were happily dancing with some of the officers. Colonel Forster it seemed was recently engaged and would be returning to Southampton at the end of next week for the wedding.

Mr Collins safely asleep on a settee in the corner, Elizabeth slipped away from the main group to get some fresh air, opening a door to a balcony. She stood with the cold air rushing over her face. It was refreshing after the heat and stuffiness of the drawing room. She turned back to watch the dancing, leaving the door ajar to let the cool air play across her.

She realized suddenly that she was not alone. She could feel his breath on her cheek, she knew who it was, for she could recognise his scent, mix of sandalwood, cigar smoke and something else she could not quite identify.

"You cannot abide the sight of him, can you?" Darcy spoke quietly, his breath warm on Elizabeth's cheek.

Elizabeth remained facing away, her voice tense. "I do not see what concern it is of yours what my feelings are for Mr Collins."

Darcy moved closer, his mouth inches from her ear. "I fail to grasp why you of all people are marrying without affection."

Elizabeth's hands gripped the balcony railing. "And since when have you been an expert on my character?"

"I have seen enough of your character," Darcy insisted, his voice low but intense, "to understand that you would be miserable married to him."

"And what concern is it of yours who I marry or how I live?"

"Are you so blind that you have not understood?"

She was determined not to look at him, or to understand what he meant. It was easier not to. She focused on what she could see of the others dancing through the open door and not on the infuriating man standing behind her. He was equally as stubborn and he pulled her further into the shadows and forcefully turned her to face him. She did not make any noise, for she feared drawing Mr Collins's attention to them, or anyone else for that matter.

"I don't have the pleasure of understanding you." She said, with her eyes were fixed anywhere but on his face.

"This is no time to play games."

"I am perfectly serious."

"Just answer me this. Do you love him?" His face was very close to hers.

"You should have done something before if your intentions were honourable." Her temper finally got the better of her. "It is too late now."

"No it's not."

"You had months to act. And yet you choose not to."

"I struggled against it for sometime, but it has overcome me. The difference in our situations, the lack of connection, total want of propriety so frequently, so almost uniformly betrayed by your mother, by your three younger sisters, and occasionally even by your father." There was anger in his voice, although he still spoke quietly. He had not released his grip on her upper arms. He squeezed them as he spoke. "It pains me to offend you."

She felt the tears stinging at her eyes and tried in vain to free herself of his grip.

"But amidst your concern for your nearest relations and your displeasure at this representation of them, let it give you consolation to consider that, to have conducted yourselves so as to avoid any share of the like censure, is praise no less generally bestowed on you and your eldest sister, than it is honourable to the sense and disposition of both."

She was struggling to free herself, tears rolling freely down her cheeks now. Although she still had not made a noise.

"Please do not cry," he spoke softly, the anger had gone from his voice. He raised his gloved hand to her cheek and brushed away the tears. The gesture awoke something inside of her.

"From the very beginning - from the first moment, I may almost say - of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form that groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to connect myself with." She heard her own voice. "And since discovering my engagement to Mr Collins your behaviour to me and only me has been has improved, so much so that I doubt the motivation for it."

He coloured as she spoke. She remembered what her mother had said that very morning, if his intentions were honourable he would have courted her before.

"You doubt my motives?"

"I had thought worse of you until that afternoon in London when you explained your history of Mr Wickham. However your behaviour has changed so much towards me that I cannot find any reason for it that suggests the conduct of a gentleman."

"I will not waste what time trying to persuade you when you so clearly will not be. But I must insist that you answer one question and decided from that what my motives are."

"Very well."

"Will it make you happy if you marry Mr Collins?"

Elizabeth hesitated, she knew she should say yes. She had agreed to marry him with her eyes open, she had done it so that her mother and sisters would be happy. They were still standing very close together, his hands holding hers.

"I will be content."

"I asked if you would be happy?"

The music stopped and the others next door started clapping. He looked at her in alarm, his eyes pleading with her to answer him, his grip on her arm was tight, firm but not painful. His face very close to hers. She had never seen him look so vulnerable.

"Please answer me before they come."

"No," she said and then after a second added, "not at all."

His grip eased and she fled back to the safety of the drawing room.