Elizabeth noticed Mr Darcy’s subtle widening of his eyes and slight shake of his head at Lydia’s rudeness. She refused to play, and wished for a seat; her chest had begun to hurt again.
“No, no, you must play. Mr Collins has begun to talk, and I do not wish to hear him. Oh, if only there were more young men and we could dance! I rarely get to see the officers. I have been asking Mr Collins to host a ball since our father died, but he is so miserly. I am going to tell Lady Lucas you will play.” Lydia ran off as quickly as she appeared.
Mr Darcy had not moved away as Elizabeth wished he might. She was embarrassed, and an awkward silence stretched out until he said, “Miss Lydia Bennet loves to talk and laugh.”
“And she will do so at length until the opportunity comes to play lottery tickets or dance. Excuse me.”
After a brief conference with Lady Lucas, Elizabeth opened the instrument. She knew she was not as talented as other women, but she was skilled enough to play with a pleasant air while her mind passed over other thoughts.
Another stupid party. If it were larger, it might be less intolerable, but tonight there were just enough to make up two whist tables, with too many others to look on and talk nonsense to each other. Lydia was rude, Mary pedantic, Mr Collins solemn, her mother foolish. Elizabeth’s tastes and theirs so ill agreed that she hardly enjoyed talking with them. She was lonely at Longbourn without Charlotte nearby; she was lonely at Jane’s house oppressed by Mrs Cuthbert.
This will be my life.No one to confide in as an equal, moving from household to household, disliking those she lived amongst, jealous of her married sisters’ independence, forced to listen to news of people she could not care about by people she could not respect.
She played two songs as the pressure and heaviness built within her. She demurred against entreaties to play again; her fingers felt numb, and her breath was coming too quickly to sing. Elizabeth made it to the parlour that had been converted to a cloakroom for the evening before her heart palpitations became unbearable, but not before the familiar sensation of dread crept over her. Walking out of the drawing room had been difficult, but she breathed a little easier now that she was sitting, bent at the waist with her forehead on her knees.
Her father had had a sanguine temperament, but had had violent pains across his breast after walking or riding. And he had had an irregular pulse like she did.Will I be taken off during a paroxysm of pain in my heart, too?
“Good God, what is the matter!”
Elizabeth looked up to see Mr Darcy holding his greatcoat. He must have come in to retrieve it without troubling a maid. Her throat tightened further as he stepped forward to peer into her face.
“You are not well; let me get your mother.”
She clutched the fabric of his sleeve and shook her head, looking athim in supplication through pain that made it difficult to speak. Mr Darcy tried to gently pull away, but her grip tightened.
“Miss Bennet, let me go.”
She ignored his calm entreaty. Elizabeth bent over with one fist pressed against her heart and the other on Mr Darcy’s sleeve. He was tall, and the force by which she pulled him compelled him to bend slightly as he stood next to her. She could not let her mother see her like this; she would flutter about the room like a moth, and her shrieking would only agitate her further. “Don’t—don’t say a word to anyone,” she choked out. Only when Mr Darcy nodded did she release him.
“I cannot leave you in such a state.”
It was a few deep inhalations before she could speak again. “It will pass. It always does.”Until one day it finally does not, and I die?
“You look to be in pain. Shall I bring you some wine? Can I at least bring one of your sisters to you?”
She shook her head again. She could tell this incident would be a brief one; the tightening in her chest had lessened and she could already feel her fingers again.
“I am perfectly well, thank you. You need not stay.”
“If this is you perfectly well, madam, I should hate to see you in a state of ill health.”
Elizabeth chuckled, and the release made it easier to breathe again. A settling exhaustion was now taking the place of pain. “I do not know the cause, but there is frequently a pain around my heart, along with an irregular pulse and other troubles. My father suffered from the same heart paroxysms in the years before he died.”
“Your family does not know what you endure?”
She started in surprise, realising what she had confessed amidst her pain. “It is a trifle. You must promise to say nothing of this.”
Mr Darcy bowed. “If you are truly well, I suspect you have long been desiring my absence.”That is certainly true.“I have been yearning to leave since I arrived.” This was muttered under his breath as he turned away to put on his coat.
Why did he bother to attend at all?“Did you not have a pleasant evening?”
Mr Darcy turned round, critically appraising her likely wan expression and pale countenance, weak from a bout of pain.
“You gave us some good music, and there is little greater pleasure than being entertained by music and conversation.”
“That will not do for a compliment. The art of pleasing conversation consists in making the company pleased with themselves.”
Mr Darcy placed his hat on his head and looked at his hands while he put on his gloves. “You suggest I am not pleased with my evening?”
