She looked into his eyes as he abased himself. “Yes, Mr. Darcy, I do forgive you. And thank you for this lovely day. I take it you planned it?”
“I did. I thought a gesture of goodwill would go further than anything I could say. My tongue gets me into more trouble than I care to admit.”
He bowed. “Thank you, Miss Elizabeth.”
With that, he turned and walked away.
Chapter 8: An Invitation to a Ball
“Ah, the beautiful Bennet women.” Mr. Bingley bowed to each of the Bennet sisters in turn. Mr. Darcy stood behind him and bowed as well.
Mrs. Bennet bustled into the drawing room and immediately took command of the conversation. “Please sit down, make yourselves comfortable.” She glanced around the room. “Your sisters are not with you today, Mr. Bingley?”
Bingley’s face flushed. “No, ma’am. Caroline is suffering from the headache this morning, and Louisa remained behind to attend her.” He grimaced as his eyes met Darcy’s. In truth, Caroline had been so provoking at breakfast that Darcy had at last lost patience and spoken in anger. She had begun, saying, “I remember, when we first met Miss Eliza, how amazed we all were to hear her called a reputed beauty; and I particularly recollect your saying one Sunday after church, ‘She a beauty! I should as soon call her mother a wit.’ But afterwards she seemed to improve on you, and I believe you thought her rather pretty at one time.”
“Yes,” Darcy had replied, his voice sharp, “but that was only when I first knew her, for it has been some weeks now since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.”
Caroline had gasped, then cried, “That emaciated country mouse? She is nothing at all!” Losing all composure, she had set down her teacup with a clatter and fled the room in tears, railing against the injustice of it. The servants had stood frozen throughout the entire scene, as had Darcy and the rest of thecompany, who had remained motionless. Bingley and Louisa were quick to apologize for her behavior. Then Bingley turned to Darcy. “In light of what has just passed, do you still mean to accompany me to Longbourn to deliver the invitation?”
Darcy rose. “It would be a welcome reprieve, Charles, to get outside and ride. The air will help us put this shocking scene behind us.”
Now, Bingley, smiling, held out an envelope. “I have brought your daughters an invitation to a ball at Netherfield Park to be held on June second.”
Mrs. Bennet took the envelope and scanned its contents. “Thank you for including all my daughters, Mr. Bingley, but Mr. Bennet and Mr. Collins have lately taken my two youngest to London. My little Lydia will be helping her aunt care for her young cousin, and Kitty is in school. We are hopeful she will become an accomplished young woman at the seminary.”
Jane spoke. “Mamma, shall I ring for tea?”
“Yes, my dear, please do.”
Jane turned to Mr. Bingley, her eyes admiring, and said, “Sir, we have never been to an actual ball. You are very kind to plan one for our little village.”
Mr. Bingley turned to Jane with a smile. “It is my pleasure, Miss Bennet. I am throwing this ball in compliment to you. With the Parliament session closed, some of my friends are idle in town. I thought to invite them to Netherfield for a ball. You will find it very diverting, and there will be no shortage of dance partners.”
Elizabeth raised her eyes to Mr. Darcy. He glanced at her and flushed when their eyes met. She would not have to sit out any dances if Mr. Bingley had indeed invited his friends. Marypressed her hand and smiled at her sister. Perhaps they would meet their knights after all.
Mrs. Bennet spoke again. “Fortunately, Mr. Collins will return from London in plenty of time to attend your ball, Mr. Bingley.” She turned to Elizabeth. “That is good for you, Lizzy. I will order you a ball gown so that you may catch Mr. Collins.” Then to Bingley: “The heir to Longbourn is half caught already, I assure you. When Lizzy is in the room, he cannot take his eyes off her.”
Elizabeth shut her eyes and bent her head, wishing the floor would open and swallow her up. Jane filled the awkward silence with a question. “Mr. Bingley, may I ask after Miss Bingley? Is she unwell?”
He did not answer her but instead stood up and asked a question of his own. “Mrs. Bennet, may we escort your daughters on a walk in the garden? It is a fine day, and I have a mind to see the black rose you spoke of. I only saw the purple one when I was last here.”
Mrs. Bennet agreed readily. “Yes, I am certain Jane would be pleased to show you my prize roses.” She turned to Mr. Darcy. “Sir, I am sorry to say that you must content yourself with Elizabeth and Mary’s company since my younger daughters are not at home.”
Darcy bowed, and Elizabeth flamed. Mary excused herself. “Lizzy, my music master is expected at one o’clock. I must practice the pianoforte before he arrives.”
Elizabeth turned to Mr. Darcy, who gestured for her to pass before him. She moved to the entryway, took her bonnet from the peg, and slipped it over her hair, careful not to disturb the pins that held her unruly curls in place. Hill helped her with alight shawl, while Mr. Hill assisted Mr. Darcy with his hat and coat.
By the time they stepped outside, Jane and Bingley were far ahead. Darcy said, “Miss Elizabeth, I have not yet seen the hermitage. Perhaps we might walk there?”
Elizabeth nodded and gestured toward the path lined with tall hedges and yew trees. In the distance, the stone walls of the hermitage were visible. Mr. Darcy offered his arm, and they walked in silence. After some minutes, he asked, “Are you betrothed to Mr. Collins?”
Elizabeth stopped walking and raised her eyes to study his expression. “Why do you ask such a question, sir? Has something been said in the village that I have not heard?”
Darcy shook his head. “No, ma’am. I only wondered, based on what your mother said a moment ago.”
Elizabeth sighed. “Mr. Darcy, you must believe only half of what comes from my mother’s mouth. She is ever hopeful to have a daughter married.”
He remained silent, watching her.
