Elizabeth tried to conceal the tremor his nearness sent through her body and, hoping her voice remained steady, replied, “And? Have you changed your mind?”
“So it would seem,” he answered, unexpectedly cheerful, looking into her eyes with neither shyness nor hesitation. However trivial their words might have seemed, they carried a deeper meaning, understood only by their hearts.
As she remained silent, he continued, “In London, for a Season or two now, another dance has begun to grow popular.”
Elizabeth looked at him in surprise, for although he had once believed Meryton to be at the end of the Earth, any novelty from London seemed to reach them swiftly—and a new dance was of the utmost importance in a community that lived to dance.
“It is not yet performed everywhere, but I am certain it will gain ground.”
“Is it complicated?” asked Elizabeth, now on his arm, gazing at him with intent curiosity.
“No!” He laughed and caught her gaze, forgetting for a few moments that they were in the midst of conversation. But he recollected himself and went on without looking away. “On the contrary, I would say it is rather simple—a few steps… but there is a significant change.”
He paused, confident that Elizabeth would urge him on, and indeed, she commanded him with graceful authority, “Tell me!”
“Well…it is not a dance for groups…or rather, it is a dance only for couples.”
“I understand nothing. Speak plainly. You speak as if in riddles,” said Elizabeth, and he recognised the bold lady he had always known, who in Bath had seemed somehow gentled, though not in a way that lessened her incredible charm.
“Yes, madam,” he replied with a smile. “Well, the dance is called the waltz, and it follows different rules. Partners dance in a closed position, facing one another and holding hands. The waltz involves a step, a slide, and another step, often with turns and rotations.”
“And do they change partners?” asked Elizabeth, her eyes fixed upon him.
“No, from beginning to end, it is only the two, face to face, as if in a sort of…embrace.”
“Oh!” she exclaimed, astonished, and blushed slightly—delightfully so, in Darcy’s opinion.
“How is that possible?”
“It appears that this is the future…of dancing,” he said.
The ball began at five in the afternoon. By nine, it was already over, everyone departing for a late dinner at the houserented by Lord and Lady Matlock. Although Elizabeth spent nearly all her time with Darcy, she could later recall only the conversation about that strange dance that permitted the young people to embrace in front of everybody and still call it dancing. All other words between them vanished, for what truly mattered was the remarkably joyful atmosphere between them—marked here and there by humour or sarcasm. However, most often, their barbs were aimed at others in a sweet complicity they both thoroughly enjoyed.
It felt as though they were discovering each other for the first time, and neither seemed hurried or impatient. Elizabeth thought with pleasure that he would surely make the journey to Netherfield since his friend had returned and had appeared set to settle there permanently. It was, in truth, what she had hoped for—Darcy’s return and his meeting with her family at a joyful time when Jane was already engaged, while their own feelings remained, for the moment, concealed from prying eyes and softened, even for themselves, by their desire to know one another before speaking of love.
Chapter 36
When a letter arrived for her shortly after noon the day after the ball, bearing the familiar hand of its sender, Elizabeth’s heart fluttered with happy expectation. She could not for a moment imagine the dreadful tidings it concealed.
It took her a second to read its scant contents.
Miss Elizabeth,
I am sorry! Forgive and forget me!
Yours forever,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
She gazed at the words for a long moment, unable to see the writing through her welling tears.
Mary was the first to notice her turmoil and subtly signalled to her aunt.
The three ladies were alone in the drawing-room, which allowed Elizabeth to release her pent-up despair. In two strides, Mrs Gardiner was by her side, taking the note from her hands. Then, she gently lowered herself and Elizabeth onto the sofawhile Mary read the troubling missive, her eyes shining with tears as if the news regarded her personally.
Mrs Gardiner’s distress was brief. She rose resolutely, declaring, “I must see Lady Oakham.”
Despite Elizabeth’s futile attempts to dissuade her, she made her way towards the door, but before she reached it, it swung open unexpectedly, and a maid announced, “Lady Oakham, ma’am.”
