Most of all, I was highly curious about what exactly it meant that Lizzy was at long last handsome enough to tempt him!
11.Resignation- Elizabeth
I freely admit I entered the Netherfield ball with a vague feeling of resignation.
I am not certain what I was resigned about, but currents were coming to a head, as if lives were about to change and I no longer had any control at all (as if I ever had).
My foremost annoyance was Mr Collins. The man would have clung to me like a limpet had Jane not grabbed my arm. I worried he might try to make his attentions more clearly marked, and I was still working out how to let him down gently. I also feared my father might attempt to force me into the match. He would not succeed, but he might make my life miserable in the process. Naturally I was convinced my mother would try to force my hand, and I did not even put a compromise attempt beyond her touch.
As I entered the receiving line, an astonishing thought struck me:Tonight I must guard my back like Mr Darcy!Sharing a predicament with that gentleman was disconcerting.
To add even more confusion, he smiled rather more broadly than usual and nodded to me when I entered the ballroom. He vacillated between amiability and stiffness at Netherfield, but I fully expected that dealing with Mr Denny would have made him revert to his usual taciturn self. He had certainly seemed panicked by his own friendliness that last hour in the library, and I expected his behaviour to revert to form. While women had to worry about our reputations, men like him had to worry about creating expectations. Would I learn more about him that evening?
Jane, Charlotte, and I spent a pleasant half-hour in discussion, with perhaps a quarter of the time making sport of Miss Bingley’s overly frilly outfit, peppered with abundant speculation about whether it was the first stare of fashion in far-off London, or she was simply colour-blind. Mr Bingley stopped by once or twice, but as host he had quite a number of greetings to make. A genuine smile graced Jane’s face, entirely untinged with worry about Mr Darcy, so that seemed a step in the right direction. I had come to esteem her beau while Jane was ill, and I believed they might do very well together if their love was given a chance to blossom. Whether his friend and sisters would allow it to do so was an open question.
We spent some minutes discussing the oddities of Mr Collins, though I suspected Charlotte was not as disapproving as I was. Since Jane’s eyes and mine had been opened considerably by the events of the previous summer, I was not particularly opposed to the slightly covetous look Charlotte gave the man. Whilst he may well have been the oddest, most verbose, most boring, and most irksome man of my acquaintance; he was respectable enough and his situation was eligible. He might make a marginally acceptable husband for my friend, and it was not as if any of us save Jane had any better options. I resolved to ensure they danced and spoke during the evening, but that was as far as my matchmaking ambitions extended.
The first two dances were full of mortification. Mr Collins, awkward and solemn, apologising instead of attending, and often moving wrong without being aware of it, gave me all the shame and misery which a disagreeable partner for a couple of dances can give. The moment of my release was ecstasy.
I had been concerned when he mentioned he would like to stay close to me through the evening, but rescue came from an unexpected source when Mr Bingley spoke to the man, telling him the same nonsense Jane had, but with the authority that comes from his sex for a man as simple-minded as my cousin. My escape seemed assured, for which I was eternally grateful to my possible future brother.
Mr Darcy wandered around the floor frowning as usual, but I was no longer bothered by his countenance, since I understood him better. After playing the part of the fox for a mere five days, I had real sympathy, oddly enough. Given that I was driven to distraction by five days, I wondered what I would be like after a decade. Mr Collins and Miss Bingley were remarkably similar in their character and mannerisms, and I wondered if I shouldmatch them. The idea was amusing! I also desperately wished I could ask Mr Darcy about what happened to Mr Denny, but obviously not badly enough to do it.Foolhardy I may be, but I am not stupid!
I danced the next with an officer, and with Mr Collins out of the way, I could observe my surroundings. They made me even more nervous than Mr Collins’s attentions. Mr Darcy stared at me more than usual, but I was accustomed to it by then.
My two youngest sisters had taken a few lessons from Mr Hurst. They seemed well on their way to being the two most tap-hackled, determined flirts in the ballroom, and there was not a thing I could do about it. Speaking to them or asking Jane to do so would only drive them to worse behaviour out of spite.
My mother encouraged them to have as much fun as possible, and she seemed intent on sampling the very fine liquors Miss Bingley stocked. My father would laugh at their antics and enjoy himself tremendously.I was left hoping for the best but expecting the worst.
Jane seemed finally to pay Mr Bingley enough attention that even a man should be able to detect it, though she was still more subtle than was ideal. I had previously been sceptical when Charlotte asserted one essentially had to beat men over the head with affection, but I was coming to her way of thinking. In truth, Jane had been far too preoccupied with Mr Darcy and too little with Mr Bingley. I thought she must make some effort to keep him from slipping away.
I had just started turning my attention to Mary, who clutched a musical score like a weapon, when Mr Darcy addressed me, taking me by surprise in his application for my hand. That was not a contingency I had planned for. Did it mean I was now handsome enough to tempt him? Much as I loved my first impressions, I was not entirely impervious to new experiences and revisions, so I had to consider it. I glanced around to see if Sir William had shamed him into it yet again, but I saw no evidence. I might have asked him had he not walked away as if he had won a wager or a dare, leaving the exercise complete (not an unreasonable surmise).
Charlotte had witnessed the whole exchange. "I dare say you will find him very agreeable."
“I just might,” I said, paying my friend little attention.
I knew it wasonly a dance,and I even suspected it might be recompense for that initial slight, though a simple apology would have been far easier and more convenient in the six weeks we had known each other. I was even more confused by the man than before, but he was at least interesting, and certainly handsome enough to tempt me.
Beyond that, I thought we might become friends, oddly enough, and did not hate the idea. If Jane managed to show Mr Bingley enough affection to move forward (possibly over the objections of his friend or sisters), I would likely be in the man’s company often. I thought that might be agreeable after we eventually disclosed Jane’s part in his sister’s rescue. He was friendly enough with Miss Bingley when it was obvious he had not the slightest interest in her, and there was no reason I could not have a similar relationship.
I, of course, knew a man of his stature would not beinterestedin a woman like me even if I were not saddled with a ridiculous family and nearly untenable situation, so at least I would not have to worry about romantic aspirations.
Charlotte knew about a tenth part of my thoughts, and she probably thought I had a more negative view of him than I currently possessed. She seemed curious but unwilling to pry, having no idea I had moved slightly toward her opinion of matrimony over the last month.
I acknowledged that I actually knew more good than bad about the gentleman. Thus far, he had reacted very badly in two situations, but otherwise he most often brought to mind a hunted animal listening to a pack of wolves baying for blood (not that there were any wolves left in England). I decided to let go of those first slights and see what happened.It was not as if his words about me were noticeably worse than my parents’ usual. He had at least never called me ‘nothing to Jane’ or ‘less silly and ignorant than other girls.’
When we took our place in the set, I had to admit I was amazed to find myself opposite the gentleman, and I read in my neighbours’ looks their equal amazement in beholding it. We stood for some time without speaking a word, so much so that I imagined the silence enduring through two dances. It would be as opposite to my dance with my cousin as it was possible to get, but otherwise it seemed quite odd. The most casual observer could determine if we at least had some conversation, and the room was filled with many far-from-casual observers. I was the only lady he had singled out, and I suspected my mother would not be the only one reading more into it than there was.
I finally tried several sallies into discussion of the number of couples, the decorations, the benefits of a private ball over a public assembly, and the like. I refrained from pointing out that evidence suggested the man would insult me in the latter and dance with me in the former, as I doubted he even remembered the initial slight. He had never apologized, nor in any way shown he regretted his words, and I suspected he had convinced himself I had not heard them, so decided to letsleeping dogs lie. He might even have forgotten them as just one more unpleasant encounter among hundreds in a society he was obviously uncomfortable in. I briefly wondered what I would do if I were in his place, listening to all the matchmaking mamas blathering about my income. It would be even worse than what Jane endures with her beauty.
The man was just starting to thaw, much to my relief, as I had come to enjoy conversing with him, and I strongly suspected he enjoyed talking to someone willing to disagree, which I assumed was somewhat novel. I was trying to come up with a topic less fraught than Mr Denny when Sir William interrupted us. The man was not as disguised as Mr Hurst or Lydia were likely to be, but he was working his way in that direction.
Sir William naturally blathered on about our so-called superior dancing, which was putting it a bit thick. Mr Darcy was graceful and light on his feet (much to my surprise), which made him an excellent dance partner, but otherwise it was not anything out of the ordinary for two young people such as us. Thus far, all we had done was demonstrate that we had one of Miss Bingley’s seven skills required for an accomplished woman.
Sir William subsequently earned one of my rare frowns when he blathered on for some time about Mr Bingley and Jane and the ‘happy event’ everyone was expecting. My own opinion was that ‘everyone’ should mind their own affairs, but gossip never heeded my wishes. People would gossip, and there seemed every chance my own family would be among the worst offenders.
The moment came when Mr Darcy startled, as if the idea that Mr Bingley created the dreadedexpectationshad never occurred to him. After that, I entirely lost his focus. He was polite and attentive, and I had to admit his voice was still the best I ever heard, but his attention was on his friend while his answers were rote.He did not look happy!
