“A mother’s heart is forever hopeful,” I replied, “or so I have been told many times by my own, who has never, I assure you, missed a single opportunity to put any of her five daughters into company. Whether that has been entirely to our advantage or not, I leave for the world to decide.”
He chuckled and, in a tone of mock terror, said, “We must never allow your mother and mine to meet. They would be unstoppable together.”
I left the ball feeling well-satisfied with my evening, having danced two sets and made four new acquaintances. Miss Downing had invited us all to call in two days at her father’s house on Curzon Street, and I looked forward to seeing them again soon.
That visit was agreeable indeed, and I had the pleasure of returning with my family the following evening for a dinner party held by Sir Walter and Lady Downing, her parents. There I also spied Mr Darcy for the first time since The Incident, as I thought of it. Fortunately, he was seated at the opposite end of the table, and in the drawing room afterwards, Miss Downing and I retreated to a quiet corner to speak once Jane and I had entertained the company with a song. I was quite sure he had not noticed my presence, nor recognised me if he had.
CHAPTER6
FITZWILLIAM DARCY
A fortnight after my blunder at the Alvanley ball, I was obliged to attend another, for it was being held by my aunt, Lady Matlock. Entering the familiar anteroom, I was surprised to see Sir Edward and Lady Gardiner and their nieces being greeted by my relations.
When I reached my uncle some minutes later I remarked that I had been unaware of the acquaintance. “Oh, yes, excellent fellow. Not at all what I expected.” He lowered his voice to a more confidential volume. “We are near an agreement for an investment in his company. In a year or two, I hope to have the funds to reopen the east wing at Matlock!”
My own appointment with the shipbuilder had been put off the day before it was to occur, and I had heard nothing further. I determined to approach the man and enquire. In the ballroom, I saw few of my preferred acquaintance and chose to greet my eldest cousin, Viscount Deane. We spoke of nothing in particular until something across the room caught his attention.
“I had heard that the wallflowers of London had banded together, but I had not expected them to be so jolly about it,” he commented with a chuckle. I followed his gaze to a rather motley assortment of young ladies who laughed together with an ease which belied the fact that they were objects of general scorn. I recognised the spotty Miss Walton, the lame Miss Downing, the impoverished bluestocking Miss Prentice, the smallpox-scarred Lady Julia Moore, and...Miss Elizabeth Bennet? My stomach dropped into my shoes.
“It was the plain Bennet’s doing, I heard,” Deane continued. “Good for them, I say. Might as well get some enjoyment out of the occasion. And we won’t have to feel guilty for not dancing with them if they are happy!” He guffawed at his own joke, and failed to notice that I was not laughing with him.
“The plain Bennet?” I repeated.
“Aye, there’s the plain Bennet and the handsome Bennet.” He gestured vaguely towards Bingley’s lady, who was surrounded by eager young men. I knew that Bingley had not been invited, and thought vaguely that I ought to observe how she behaved in his absence.
“I do not think Miss Elizabeth Bennet plain,” I ventured. I had observed her, really observed her, for the first time, at the Downings’ dinner party, and found that she was not lacking in attractions. Her eyes were remarkably fine, her figure light and pleasing, her smile captivating. She played well and sang excellently, and though she had not the extraordinary beauty of her elder sister, she was no less than a beauty in her own right.
“That is what everyone calls her,” Deane said with a shrug. “The way I heard it was that shortly after they came to town, someone highly placed declared her too plain to dance with, but said her sister was the handsomest lady in the room.”
My stomach exited my shoes and made for the centre of the earth. My hopes that my incautious speech would swiftly pass from the attention of society had not been realised. Instead, matters were patently worse than they had been when Bingley chided me for it.
As it was my aunt’s ball, I was required to dance more than I would have preferred. I partnered the daughters of my aunt’s particular friends, and of my uncle’s political cronies. Between, and often during, those sets, I observed the Bennets. Miss Bennet was gracious to all, but she did not seem delighted by the surfeit of male attention. I rather thought her somewhat ill at ease. Certainly the flirtations of her dance partners were returned with nothing beyond courtesy. She danced every dance, but often made her way to her sister’s side between sets.
Miss Elizabeth appeared to be having a grand time with her odd assortment of friends. There was much laughter from their corner, and at times the ladies’ heads were so close together they might have been touching. She danced the fourth with Mr Downing, who also obliged his sister’s other friends, but no other gentleman approached her. She took the meal with her aunt and uncle.
These observations subjected me to an uncomfortable confusion of feelings. I knew from Bingley that Mr Bennet’s estate was small and that this was the first opportunity his eldest daughters had been granted for society beyond that of the country and Sir Edward’s mercantile set. It was surely their best chance to make good marriages, and in a moment of pique I had possibly blasted the prospects of the younger. That I had not meant to be overheard, nor expected that my casual judgment would prevent her acceptance by those among whom she now moved, had no bearing on the matter—it had happened, and I was to blame.
On the other hand, the lady did not seem at all downcast. Perhaps she did not care to marry yet, or was fond of someone near her home. If that were the case, all she had lost at my hand was the chance to make some well-placed acquaintances, and to appear often in the dance.
I approached Sir Edward late in the evening. Having exchanged the usual pleasantries, I was pleased by the man’s civil demeanour. I had wondered if he would be angry with me, despite Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s evident unconcern for the talk, but he was all politeness.
“I hope,” I said, “we might reschedule the appointment which was postponed. I remain very interested in The Gardiner Company.”
“Do you? I am surprised,” he said, eyebrows raised. “A man in your position must have many opportunities to choose from.”
“I do, but some are clearly more promising than others. Will it be possible for us to meet?”
“You may expect a message from me tomorrow, Mr Darcy,” he replied evenly. Pleased, I wished him a good evening and moved away, convinced by the civility of the uncle and the merriment of the niece that I had not really injured her at all.
My butler delivered the expected note from Sir Edward personally when it arrived the next morning. I hoped the business might be completed soon, for I very much wished to return to Pemberley.
Mr Darcy,
Pray pardon me for not contacting you following the cancellation of our appointment. I had expected that you would understand why it was done, but it seems I must be candid. I will not be meeting with you. I am in no humour at present to offer opportunities to young men who slight my beloved niece.
In all sincerity,
Sir Edward Gardiner, Bt.
