Elizabeth squeezed my arm as I sat down.
“That was beautiful. Even better than last I heard it. You’ve changed it a little?” she asked.
“Yes,” I admitted, but I added nothing further. From the knowing set to her smile and the way her eyes flicked over to Kitty, I didn’t need to.
I hoped that someone else would be persuaded to play, taking the burden of attention away, but Lydia managed to do that without the help of an instrument.
“There’s a town ball in Meryton at the end of the week,” she announced to the room at large from the armchair she had claimed for herself. “And I thought we all might go.”
There was a moment of silence where I was almost certain everyone else in the room was thinking the same thing—this was not a visit that ought to be celebrated. Mr. Bennet was still bedbound, and there was no clear answer to how his illness would end.
“Lydia,” Jane began gently, “I think that might be a little improper, given the circumstances.”
“But it might be our last chance!” Lydia protested. “Don’t we deserve a little fun?”
It was a callous way of looking at things, but she was right that they would all have to endure a lengthy period of mourning if Mr. Bennet passed. There would be nothing near the realm of fun for a while, and Lydia gave the impression of one who thrived off attention and merriment.
“I doubt Father would mind, if we asked,” Kitty added, not surprising anyone in her support of her sister’s idea. “And it would be nice to be able to dance.”
Her interest in turn piqued Mrs. Bennet’s.
“I think it’s a wonderful idea. It would be good to get you girls out of the house for a while,” she said, looking pointedly between her two unmarried daughters. “I imagine it would be a great comfort to your father if you were to find husbands.”
The implication ofbefore he passeswas unspoken but still clear in her thinly veiled attempt to guilt Kitty and Mary. I bit back my grimace. An evening of watching Kitty dance with eligible bachelors was not the delight to me that it was to her mother. I liked to watch her dance, but the constant threat of matrimony lingered in the back of my mind in a dark and ugly cloud, and I was keen to avoid reminders of it.
“I’m going to ask Father!” Lydia declared, jumping to her feet and rushing out of the room.
Elizabeth sighed. “I suppose it is good to see marriage has not changed her,” she said, sharing a look with Jane that suggested they had both hoped it would change her just a little.
“Are we really going to go dancing with Father so ill?” Jane frowned.
“If he allows it, then I suppose there’s no harm,” Elizabeth said. “I can see the appeal for him in some peace and quiet.”
“It’s perfectly peaceful here,” Mrs. Bennet protested, waving away her daughter’s words and either missing or ignoring the smothered smiles of everyone else in the room. She was responsible for a large proportion of the lack of peace, and she encouraged much of the rest.
It was not long later that Lydia thundered down the stairs,almost tripping as she burst into the room to announce that wehadto attend the ball in Meryton, as it was their father’s fondest wish. Elizabeth included me in the amused look she shared with Jane—Mr. Bennet was definitely seeking a little peace.
I considered trying to avoid the ball. My last attempt to act like a respectable young lady enjoying a night of dancing had ended with me bloodied and crying myself to sleep, and I was in no hurry to repeat the experience. Only when I told Kitty I did not plan to go, her resulting pout was enough to pull at my heart.
“Please,” she begged, pressing a row of three fleeting kisses up my wrist. “I want you to come.”
“I have nothing to wear,” I tried to argue. When I’d packed for Meryton, dancing and merriment had not been amongst the likely activities. There was no evening gown in my luggage.
But Kitty was having none of the excuse.
“You are in a house that has, until recently, housed five young women. Do you honestly believe there will not be a dress for you to borrow?”
“Perhaps, but—”
“George, please,” she insisted. Her eyes were wide with deliberate intent to persuade. I both loved and hated that it was effective enough to work. “I will not be able to have a moment of fun without you.”
“Oh, really?” I said with a laugh. “All balls have been an utter bore until now, have they?”
She took my innocent attempt to tease and twisted it into playful flirtation.
“Until now I have had no point of comparison. But yes, in retrospect, I do believe they have been.”
Her lips were on my skin again, grazing my knuckles. No one could be expected to protest under such circumstances and, all too easily, I found myself giving in. If Kitty wanted me there, I would go to the ball.
