Chapter 4
His dance with Mrs. Hurst came to an end. He felt bad that he had not really paid attention to her during their dance, but he steered her back to where her brother had led Miss Elizabeth at the end of the dance. The two were talking when he approached them. His hands were sweaty; he rubbed them on his coat. His mouth was dry; no time for refreshments now. Mrs. Hurst dropped his arm and went back to sit with her sister, but Caroline was not seated; she was on her way to Mr. Darcy's side.
He had never not asked her to dance at any occasion. She would just make it easier for him by being nearby when he would turn to her and ask her to dance. The last dance of the night! He had never asked her for any of the principal dances - the first, the supper set or the last dance, before. Well, so much for Louisa and her drivel about him not caring for her! He had waited until the last dance of the evening to ask her to dance. Progress at last.
Just as she was reaching the group that consisted of her brother, Mr. Darcy and all of those Bennets, she heard his voice. "Miss Elizabeth, if you are not otherwise engaged, would you consent to dance the last with me?" as he held his hand out in front of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
No! It could not be! He could not ask a Bennet to dance twice in an evening. He never asked HER to dance twice, ever. And the last dance of the night! Whatever could he mean by it? She could not say a word. What could she say? "You are supposed to ask ME to dance Mr. Darcy"? She could not say that aloud. All of the etiquette lessons that her father had paid so much for at that overpriced seminary came flooding back to her. No, she may be disappointed with this turn of events, but to say anything out loud at this point would be social suicide. She would have to bite her tongue and address this iniquity at a later time. She would pretend she was not coming to beg for a dance with the object of all her hopes and dreams. She would stand here looking nonchalant while he danced with his little infatuation, but in the end she knew she would be the one to triumph, not that little country mouse.
She did not hear the country mouse's reply, but soon the object of her attention and the object of her derision sauntered past her, arm in arm, to line up with the other dancers. She could not watch. She stood with her back to the dancers. It was rude of her, but infinitely less rude than what she wanted to do; that was to stomp out on the floor and tear that little country nobody from her man and throw her down the stairs. But she did not. She stood there, waiting for the end of the evening and planning all the ways she could get rid of that country mushroom.
Her brother was dancing with some unknown country nobody so she could not even leave a few minutes early. She found her sister and they made their way to the cloak room to get their wraps and hopefully be the first to leave. The dancing ended and they stood near the entrance waiting for the rest of their party so they could depart. Nearly half the country squires and their frumpy ladies had left before her brother and his friend deigned to head for the exit, both still talking with the Bennets, their loud, uncouth mother, the flighty younger sisters, the middle sister who looked like she would make a good nun and the particular bane of her existence, the older two Bennet sisters.
"Oh, there you are Caroline, Louisa. Do you know where Hurst is? Well, he will be along when they take the last of the wine away. Do you remember meeting the Bennets? Louisa, Caroline, please meet Mrs. Bennet, Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, Miss Catherine and Miss Lydia." Each lady curtsied as she was introduced. "Ladies, my sisters Mrs. Louisa Hurst and Caroline." A half hearted curtsy was made by each lady. At last Mr. Hurst staggered his way to the party and without saying a word, headed for the exit. The rest of the party followed.
Their two carriages were lined up in front of the assembly hall. The sober gentlemen helped each of the ladies into the Bennet carriage as Mr. Hurst, with the help of a groomsman, poured himself into the Bingley carriage and promptly fell asleep in the corner. The groomsman helped the Bingley ladies into their carriage and at last the gentlemen joined them and all the parties made for home.
There was no talk in the Bingley carriage on the way back to Netherfield. Hurst was asleep and Mrs. Hurst was glaring at him. Caroline was too mad to trust herself saying anything to her brother or to Mr. Darcy. The other gentlemen were alone with their thoughts, which might rightly be assumed were taken up with their favorite Bennet daughter.
A lively and loud babble of conversations were taking place in the Bennet carriage. Everyone talked over everyone else, except for the eldest two daughters. Strangely, they had nothing to say. They just stared out the carriage window at the passing countryside, content to be alone with their thoughts, each of a different gentleman.