Loving the Longest |
Elizabeth adjusted her hair somewhat nervously, then stood back to inspect herself with a critical eye. She was about to join her sister, brother-in-law…and him. She had not seen him for over two months. Deciding that her appearance would have to do, and somewhat vainly pleased by the effect of the deep burgundy gown her sister had provided her with as an early birthday gift, she schooled her features. The look of composure she managed was far from her true emotional state. It was a universal law of sorts that despite doubts, fears, and anxieties about a suitor, a lady must nevertheless continue to place one foot firmly in front of the other. With that in mind, Elizabeth descended the stairs of Netherfield one step at a time.…
Tuesday January 5, 1813 She could not help smiling as she made her way across the Netherfield ballroom, her eyes on her hostess. Jane was positively glowing with happiness as she gazed at her husband with obvious affection. Though it seemed impossible, she was even more beautiful than before. The couple was dancing at that moment, officially opening their private ball in keeping with tradition. She paused to watch them with contentment. Bingley had become very dear to her during his months of courting her sister and in the short month and a half after their wedding. Clearly, he'd made Jane the happiest creature in the world. "Well Eliza, I must say that our dear Jane looks stunning. But then, one could never fault her for her angelic appearance; now with such a wardrobe she really is unmatched." Elizabeth turned to regard Miss Bingley coolly. Though they had managed something of a truce, she had not forgotten that young lady's interference in her dearest sister's happiness; nor was the underlying superciliousness of all Miss Bingley's remarks likely to earn her forgiveness any time soon. "Yes, she does look like an angel, Caroline. And even better, she truly is one. The present gathering is proof of that." She managed a sweet smile. Miss Bingley bit her lip, then changed her tactics. "You look quite well yourself, Eliza. Is that a new gown?" "No, it is the very same gown I wore a fortnight ago at the Meryton Assembly." Her lips twitched as she added mischievously, "how well it bodes for me, though, if you were fooled". "Oh well, more importantly, how fortunate for you that not all of Jane's guests tonight had yet arrived back in Hertfordshire. It's very becoming on you I'm sure." Elizabeth felt her nerves grating at Caroline's obvious reference to Mr. Darcy, who was at that moment regarding them both from across the room. If she hadn't struggled to prevent returning Miss Bingley's sneer with a look of hauteur, she would not have turned away from him in fear that he would mistake her displeasure. She knew that if she ever hoped to make any headway with the recalcitrant object of her affections, he required a great deal more encouragement — as much as propriety would allow. Gaining command of herself quickly, determined not to allow Miss Bingley a victory, she turned back to him to see a now reserved expression whereas formerly he had been smiling. She had been quick but not quick enough! And he was too quick! Before she could catch his eye he had turned away. With a sigh, she excused herself from Caroline and hurried to join Mrs. Collins. She'd seen her friend too few times since the Collins family had arrived from Hunsford. But even in the midst of their enjoyable conversation, she could not really keep herself from seeking him out with her eyes again. She watched, her curiosity growing stronger as Miss Bingley made her way over to him. She is hoping he will ask her to dance first no doubt. She was torn between amusement and pique, and then annoyed with herself for both. "Lizzy? Is something the matter?" "I'm sorry, Charlotte. I was momentarily distracted by something. Forgive my scattered wits this evening." Charlotte's eyes followed her friend's and she watched the interchange across the room in silence for several moments. She glanced at Elizabeth in question before leaning forward. "It does make for amusing entertainment to watch Miss Bingley throw herself at Mr. Darcy! I believe she's become almost indelicate about it, in a well-schooled missish sort of way…you do not look as amused as I would expect though, Lizzy." "Oh no, I am, I assure you. Although I must admit to some concern for my friend. I wonder if Miss Bingley will badger him into asking him to dance the next two." "I think that is highly unlikely! Mr. Darcy has ever been firm in his manner of discouraging false hopes in young ladies. He looks as though he has no intention of dancing at the moment." "Well, it is not a favourite activity with him." "You two seem to be getting along remarkably well! I'm relieved that you can call him a friend; it must make things so much easier for your sister and Mr. Bingley." She regarded Elizabeth slyly to gauge her reaction. She wanted to hint at more, but dared not. Charlotte knew full well that Elizabeth would not include her in such confidences - not since she'd violated Elizabeth's principles by accepting Mr. Collins. She thought that Mr. Darcy still regarded her friend intently from time to time but it was hard to tell. His manner was somehow guarded, despite his friendlier manners to all. Surely if he had any serious interest in Elizabeth, he would have spoken by now? No, I stake my eyes on the fact that he is attracted to her, but he seems unwilling to do anything about it. Poor Lizzy. I fear she is falling for him despite herself. Elizabeth's voice interrupted her friend's concerned ruminations about her. "He and I are getting along much better. He's a good man, Charlotte, and I'm the first to admit how seriously I misjudged him." "This is likely the highest praise I've ever heard from your lips! Barring Col. Fitzwilliam and of course…" She stopped herself, but Elizabeth knew to whom she referred and blushed fiercely. "I could never have been more wrong, Charlotte. As you well know! Although, I believe my misjudgment of Mr. Darcy was equal to my misjudgment of Mr. Wickham." Fearing she had revealed too much, she hastily added "You are quite right. My friendship with Mr. Darcy makes it much more pleasant for my sister and his friend. I am more than willing to get along with him for their sake." "Oh of course, Lizzy. I understand your motivation." Despite her continued slyness, she felt a sharp stab of concern for her friend. It would be so odd, so terrible to see Lizzy love where it would never be returned. Yet, she imagined that was the price her friend might pay for her impractical notions. Distressed, she turned to answer her husband's inane invitation to dance the next two dances, and was somewhat relieved when her friend took her leave of them. Elizabeth wandered around the ballroom restlessly for awhile, until she feared she was attracting too much attention. She knew that she was repelling encouraging smiles from many of the gentlemen, but could not help it. In her present mood, there was only one gentleman she hoped would smile at her, and whom she would condescend to smile at in return, and he was now far away talking to Sir William and her father. Charlotte's knowing looks had disconcerted her. Does everyone suspect me?! And yet, why should they not? He is handsome, intelligent, polite, nay charming when you know his ways better, considerate, responsible, respectable, good, generous, handsome, so very handsome when he smiles that certain way, and of course, all the young ladies salivate over his wealth. He has swept all of Hertfordshire off its feet merely by being civil! It hardly seems fair that it should be that easy for him. …He could have any young lady he desires, here and in all of England. I am no different than all the other young ladies of Hertfordshire in being smitten except that…except that I would love him were he the poorest man in England, and I flatter myself that at least the other ladies of Hertfordshire do not know him as I do. Distressed by her own susceptibility, still hopeful, yet increasingly convinced that she had no right to be, she turned away from the entire room and stared out into the night. At this rate, my countenance will surely start frightening children away! She hardly knew what a solitary figure she looked, or what a softening effect her vulnerable pose was having on more than one young gentleman. The incomparable Miss Bennet usually challenged them all with her vivacity and it was rare to see her spirits less than lively. At times, some thought her a little too challenging, though many were fascinated despite their anxieties. There was only one amongst them however, willing to set aside his own tender feelings this evening and risk himself by seeking her out to help her if he could. She heard someone approach and knew instinctively that it was him long before he spoke. "Miss Bennet? I hope you are simply enchanted by the stars and not displeased with your company?" She turned to him and smiled her brightest smile, determined to undo the damage of earlier. "The company has just undergone something of an improvement. I had much rather converse with you than with Miss Bingley." There, that ought to make it clear. His answering smile suggested she had. "I thought perhaps you were not inclined to dance, and this was your method of avoiding us all." " `Us all'? I do not follow you sir." "Why, I am merely speaking of all your many admirers who were torn between a desire to approach you lest you were distressed, and a fear that your current isolation stems from dissatisfaction with us. Few would dare risk an encounter should you wish to exercise your keen wit mercilessly. It is enough to look foolish when you are disposed to be kind." She laughed at this picture of herself, though she was somewhat surprised by his view that she had many admirers. She would not give him the satisfaction of confessing her thoughts completely though. "I think you overestimate my power, but your flattery has certainly earned you a reprieve." "I'm glad to hear that. It's only fair when I have been the only man brave enough to approach you." "I declare, Mr. Darcy, we are a pair of Changelings if you are right. If my memory serves me correctly, it used to be you who struck fear into the souls of Hertfordshire society. Now it appears that young ladies boldly approach you at any time to solicit a dance." She regretted it the moment she said it. He appeared to be completely taken aback for a moment. She could see his surprise on his face. Oh to have held my tongue! How far I have sunk! She saw his dawning comprehension with keen humiliation. "Well then" he was saying, his voice a little odd, "it is fortunate for me that the gentleman is still the one who must do the asking…but even more fortunate if you say yes." She blushed. It was her turn to be taken aback. Then her love got the better of her pride for a moment. She knew she could refuse him nothing that he condescended to ask of her as she nodded. Still, Elizabeth Bennet was not in the habit of acting humbly towards Fitzwilliam Darcy. "I have always thought that great courage deserved my condescension. I must definitely dance with any gentleman brave enough to face my taciturn disposition this evening." She saw him smile in appreciation of her sauciness, of her slight stress on 'any'. The idea of a taciturn disposition brought forth a similar conversation from long ago, and she worried that she had reminded him of her former dislike, for he had frowned briefly at her use of the word. But just as quickly, he smiled again. With a formal bow he held out a hand to her which she did not hesitate to accept. Much to Caroline Bingley's displeasure, she watched as Mr. Darcy led Eliza Bennet onto the dance floor. For well over the thousandth time she cursed that day well over a year ago when her brother had dragged them all to Hertfordshire.
HE guided her with the lightest pressure from his hand, but still she felt his heat as though it burned. She glanced up at him, not for the first time admiring his handsome face, as she answered his inquiries about the book he'd lent to her when last in Hertfordshire for his friend's wedding. That had been a more than two month visit, excepting the ten days he'd gone to London. She still recalled the sense of relief she'd felt when he'd returned, half expecting that he would not. Yet here they were again, their interactions pleasant, and so far from what she hoped would have happened between them by now. Even her desperate resolution of thanking him for his assistance to her sister Lydia had merely made their future encounters easier. He had declared his wish that they could start over and become friends. She had heartily assented, losing the nerve to confess the depth of her feelings. …She feared he was now too easy in her presence, as though he'd got the better of his passion. It was a depressing thought! She smiled at him, daring to reveal something of her true regard, and was rewarded with his answering smile as they joined hands again and went down the dance. It seemed important to talk of something, yet she could not form a single intelligent thought. She was relieved when, once again, her partner took the trouble to initiate conversation. "We have had little time to speak since my arrival. You've not told me how you've occupied yourself since your sister's wedding?" "Oh, I have kept occupied as I usually do reading and going for long walks in my spare time. We've seen Jane and Bingley frequently since their return and my nieces and nephews kept me busy enough over Christmas. …It's a shame that you missed my aunt and uncle, as you likely heard they returned to London the day before you arrived here." "I should have liked to have seen them. When I return to town I have every intention to call on them and procure an invitation to dine there." "As you should. They would be delighted, I know." "Have you any plans to visit them there during the remainder of winter?" "No, they've not said, but I know they are particularly busy since my uncle has expanded his business. I would not wish to impose on them until that settles down." "I see. I'm sorry to hear that. Though I must return to Pemberley almost immediately, I had thought to return to town next month, or perhaps in March." She met his eyes, wondering if he was hinting that they might see each other in London if she could manage it. "I'm afraid that, as much as I might wish for an excursion Mr. Darcy, my best hope would be through Jane and Bingley if they should see fit to escape Netherfield for awhile." He nodded politely, though he looked somewhat displeased. They temporarily parted to complete their steps with others before returning to each other to end their dance. She managed to behave sociably throughout the remainder of the evening, dancing almost every dance, watching as he did the same. She curbed her disappointment when she was forced to accept another gentleman's escort into supper, fancying that Mr. Darcy would have asked her for that dance if he could have reached her in time. She saw that he sat it out and therefore remained without a supper partner; he was now seated next to Jane and Charles. With a sigh she forced her attention back to her cheerful companion several times and made polite conversation. When he offered her his arm he requested the last two dances of the evening; she boldly told him she was already spoken for. Her wishes were to be disappointed. At less than an hour left before midnight, Mr. Darcy did not approach her and with painful eyes, she finally saw him take up his position with another young lady for the final dance while she remained without a partner. She was debating the wisdom of remaining in the room as Jane joined her side. As the last dance neared its end, the music suddenly stopped and Mr. Bingley announced to everyone that they were nearing the final moment of the Twelfth Night. Calling for his guests to wassail and eat cake one final time, he reminded them of The Wishing Tree, pointing to the decorated pine boughs in one corner. He added that he understood his neighbours also called it The Kissing Tree, and, despite Jane's blushes, enthused on the need to maintain tradition. Everyone laughed, for all knew of the local custom; considered outrageous at any other time, it was acceptable for the gentlemen to kiss the ladies on the cheek at the stroke of midnight to mark the end of festivities and the return to everyday responsibilities. It is likely that many participants did not recognize such practices as the remnants of long-forgotten ways to honour the Goddess, and undoubtedly would have been shocked if they had. Fortunately for our heroine, her neighbourhood remained cheerfully ignorant. As Bingley finally declared it midnight, Elizabeth hugged her sister, and then turned to wish her many friends and neighbours a happy future year. In the confusion of the room, she looked around, then turning back saw that Mr. Darcy was slowly making his way to her. He was in fact busy kissing one young lady after another! She kept her countenance when he stepped forward and addressed her. "Mr. Darcy." She held out her hand to him. "A happy future year to you, sir." He took her hand, imprisoning it against his waistcoat. "Miss Bennet, if you think that I have gone to the trouble of kissing practically every other female in this room simply for the privilege of shaking your hand, you are sadly mistaken." She could only stare at him mutely as she watched his face slowly descend to hers. He paused, his lips so near to her own. "A happy future year to you, Miss Bennet." And then he angled his face to kiss her on the cheek as propriety demanded. |