Chapter 6: Away To The Ball

The rooms of Longbourn were filled with a bustle of anxious activity and nervous anticipation on Thursday. It was the day of the engagement ball, which was to be held at Netherfield jointly by Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, in honour of their brides. It had been Kitty's idea, to hold a ball commemorating the grand occasion; an idea which Mr. Darcy surprisingly endorsed- and to which Mr. Bingley had no objection at all, of course. Miss Bennet too thought it an agreeable scheme, delightful to all involved, and Elizabeth knew it to be a necessity; she only wished that a repetition of the distasteful events that had occurred on a former similar occasion would not distress her here. In short, everyone was as pleased at the idea as their natures would allow.

Mrs. Bennet had insisted on the girls being outfitted with new gowns for this momentous occasion; the two elder ones, at least. Elizabeth, not usually shy at the prospect of a social evening, wondered how to avoid the embarrassing feelings attached to her (and Jane) being in the limelight on this occasion. She knew, too, that such was not Mr. Darcy's preferred choice of amusement; but he had owned himself rather looking forward than avoiding the ball. A suspicion of its being connected to the strange business that had drawn Mr. Bingley and himself away only a fortnight ago rose in her mind; but as she could not decide on a satisfactory conclusion, she left off examining it.

"Lizzy, why are you standing about there in that manner? Do not you have to dress?" Kitty cried as she flew into the room distractedly, seeking out some ribbons. Without waiting for an answer, she hurried away, and Elizabeth shook away her musings and went to assist Jane. Her sister was on the point of completing her dressing, and as Elizabeth looked her over in approval, Mr. Bingley's besotted compliments came to mind, 'that an angel could hardly be more beautiful.' Her blue gown, the colour of forget-me-nots, accentuated her eyes and set off her golden hair admirably, and her face was more lovely than usual with the happiness that shone out of it from every aspect. Elizabeth hugged her joyfully, mindful of her gown; and then Jane offered to help her with hers.

Elizabeth's own gown was of a colour between green and blue, which contrasted wonderfully with her dark curly hair. Kitty had wondered at her choosing so unconventional a colour, as opposed to the normal pinks and whites and blues; but Elizabeth would have her way, declaring that pink was not really her preferred style.

In the midst of all the excitement of completing the toilettes, the housekeeper Hill came to inform the ladies that several bouquets of flowers had been sent from Netherfield. The ladies went downstairs eagerly after completing their dressing, finding a veritable garden of flowers lying on the front porch.

'With compliments from Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy,' Jane read the card, blushing and smiling alternately. "Mamma, there is one for us all. Is it not kind of them?"

"Oh my! What elegance, to be sure!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. "Procured from a London hothouse, no doubt! How attentive of the gentlemen! I do declare, my dearest Jane, my dear Lizzy, that the two of you have made uncommonly fine matches!"

Mr. Bennet only observed that his wife seemed more happier at the prospect of Jane and Lizzy being married than they themselves were.

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"Mr. Darcy, I declare I was most surprised- shocked even, I dare say- when Charles wrote, informing me of another engagement that had taken place!" When Mr. Darcy did not respond, Miss Bingley tried another tactic, offering her congratulations in a most insincere manner. He bowed slightly, and she continued, becoming more and more incensed at the thought of that pert Eliza Bennet usurping what she had believed to be her rightful place. "You see after all, it was not with mistaken foundations that I teased you on another occasion, quite a while back. Do you remember our conversation from the last Netherfield ball?" She was determined to draw an answer from him.

Mr. Darcy was spared from answering by Mr. Bingley, whose thoughts were fixed on something else entirely. "They said they would come early, did they not, Darcy?" He went to glance out the window, then began to pace the room in nervous anticipation.

"Indeed, I believe a few minutes will see them here."

"Oh Charles! I still don't think it was quite proper to plan a ball with ladies you are only engaged to." Miss Bingley interjected.

"My dear Caroline, I confess I see no reason why we should not. The very purpose is to celebrate the nature of our association with one another." Miss Bingley was silenced.

"I would have made my journey earlier, but you know how hard it is to get away from London without the proper leave-taking. We would have dearly loved assisting with the preparations for your ball, would we not, Louisa?" Mrs. Hurst only nodded.

"There they come!" Charles Bingley exclaimed, as he caught sight of a carriage driving up to the door. Mr. Darcy smiled to himself at the eagerness of his friend; indeed he himself felt much the same way. It was all the gentlemen could do to restrain themselves from running downstairs before the butler made the announcements, and the Bennet family entered the room.

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Time seemed to have slowed down as the gentlemen set eyes on their respective betrothed. Mr. Darcy remembered later being thankful that he was not the host, for he found himself unable to say a single word. His eyes passed over the others in silent greeting; but he could not withdraw them from Elizabeth for the space of even a mere 5 seconds. She seemed completely at ease, smiling at him as she took a seat, although Miss Bingley had jealously placed her far from him; but Mr. Darcy could only stare in rapt, undisguised admiration. Finally, he roused himself to utter the commonplace civilities, and then very deliberately putting an end to Miss Bingley's insipid conversation, he went and stood by Elizabeth.

But even then he could not breathe a word of his fervent admiration while her family was by. It was only as they proceeded downstairs, to wait and welcome the arriving guests, that he whispered to her, "My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, you look so beautiful that I have not words enough to express my admiration." He gazed at her blue-green gown, which set off the brilliancy of her dark hair and lively eyes astoundingly well. His thoughts likened her to a fiercely beautiful sea, exquisite even its very storminess.

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth blushed becomingly, shyly touching a strand of her hair. "You look very handsome too. You always do."

Half-jesting and half-earnestly, he smilingly said, "Will you call me Mr. Darcy all our lives?"

Her eyes widened, and she looked at him questioningly. "What would you prefer I call you?"

"William. My cousin always goes by Fitzwilliam," he added as an afterthought.

"I will try." Her embarrassment lightening, she remembered to thank him for another gesture. "The flowers were lovely. Thank you for sending them."

"I am glad you liked them."

"Mama was in raptures about it, even more than Jane and I. I believe she is more in love with you than we are." She glanced mischievously at his face, wanting to see how he would take her words. But other than a wry look and a slight smile, he said nothing. Elizabeth was pleased.

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The ball was an immense success. Mrs. Bennet had the satisfaction of seeing Jane and Elizabeth teased heartily by those of their closer acquaintance; and as for herself, every fresh congratulation and well-wisher was an invitation to extol the handsomeness and riches of her sons-in-law, and the expectation of future felicity of her daughters. But on the whole, she behaved tolerably well; and the girls, who were with their betrothed most of the time, either dancing or conversing, had not occasion to blush over the comments of their mother.

Caroline Bingley, after being exposed to Mrs. Bennet's effusions on the subject, came away insultingly insolent; and her eye immediately seeking out Mr. Darcy, as was her usual recourse, she observed him standing and laughing with her. Determined to show herself yet the better of the two, she approached the couple, however, she saw Mr. Darcy going down to the dance with that plain Bennet sister- she could not remember the name, nor desired to do so. That impertinent Miss Eliza stood there, watching the progress of the dance by herself, with a smile that Caroline Bingley did not think beautiful at all.

"My dear Miss Eliza! It has been an age since I saw you."

Elizabeth, who had observed Miss Bingley pointedly turning away from her on their entrance into the drawing-room of Netherfield, only three hours before, said with smiling amusement, "Indeed, Miss Bingley. I hope you are well?" she continued politely, not particularly wishing to converse with that lady, yet not seeing any alternative just then.

Caroline Bingley glanced at the calm face of her rival, mistaking her unconcerned look for triumph. Miss Eliza was gloating over her because she had won the hand of Mr. Darcy; but Miss Bingley would show her how little concerned she was with that circumstance.

"Oh yes! I just returned from London, you know, most delightful place; and I had such a hard time getting away!" she stopped there, sure that Miss Eliza would be impertinently curious.

"Indeed?"

"I have such a number of acquaintance there, and close friends too; and I heard rumours of more than one heart breaking due to my departure! How silly people are, to be sure." She looked down her nose at Elizabeth with haughty disdain.

Elizabeth, who was finding it hard to keep her countenance, replied, "How unfortunate for them." Miss Bingley, who did not perceive the sarcasm of her rejoinder, gave a chilly bow and walked away abruptly, confident of having delivered a set-down.

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"What were you and Miss Bingley conversing about, my love?" Mr. Darcy asked Elizabeth as he led her to the refreshment tables.

"She did not congratulate me on my engagement, but was at pains to reassure me that she was not wanting for beaux." Elizabeth laughed.

Mr. Darcy smiled in admiration, watching her cheeks dimple in merriment and her hair gleam under the candlelight. He suddenly decided that he could not wait any longer. Now was the perfect time.

"Elizabeth, will you accompany me to the balcony? I have…I need…there is something I need to do."

Elizabeth's merriment was arrested, her eyes glancing at him with heightened consciousness. "Alone, sir?"

Mr. Darcy's embarrassment also increased as he considered what to say in reply. He did not wish to overstep the bounds of propriety, but privacy was a requirement just then. "Just for a few minutes." He looked at her, and there was a mixture of anxiety and anticipation in his eyes.

Elizabeth's heart beat fast, as a thousand thoughts flew through her head. Was he….did he intend to-? The room suddenly seemed to overheat. She knew she should not agree to his proposal, and yet- she did not believe that Mr. Darcy would behave in an indecorous manner. She followed him as they wound in and about the mass of people, mechanically smiling and greeting them. Charlotte caught her eye, and looked inquiring; but she had not anything to say. She nodded in embarrassment at her friend, and hurried on.

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The cool air of the balcony assailed them as they stepped out of the environs of the ballroom. Mr. Darcy led Elizabeth to a seat, and then without knowing what he did, began to pace around nervously. Elizabeth watched him in surprise and wonder, knowing not what to expect. Finally he came near, but he did not sit down. Instead, he fumbled with his waistcoat pocket, and drew out a small oblong object. Elizabeth's eyes widened.

"My love," he said, looking down at her half-hopefully, half-anxiously, "Will you do me the honour of accepting this?" he held out the object in his palm reverently, which Elizabeth now perceived to be a small black box.

"Mr Darcy...?" Both curious and demurring, Elizabeth was hesitant. Yet he urged her, with a look, to take it; so she gingerly picked it up and slowly pried it open. At the sight of the treasure it contained, she let out an involuntary gasp.

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A beautiful ring lay inside the box, a sparkling garnet set in a delicate band of gold. It was at once simple and elegant. Elizabeth was overcome, both by the beauty of the ring and the gesture accompanying it.

Mr. Darcy seated himself beside her. "It is a family heirloom, passed on from one bride to another in the Darcy tradition," he said softly, watching her admire it. She looked at him then, and said not a word, but her eyes were fully eloquent with an indescribable emotion. Mr. Darcy's heart beat faster, and he silently lifted the ring out of the box and reached for her hand. It fit perfectly on her slender finger, and hardly knowing what he did, his hand moved of its own accord, and he drew her to him and kissed her.

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And at that moment, everything fell into place; there was nobody in the world but he and Elizabeth; ball, dancing, propriety, everything was forgotten. Elizabeth experienced sensations unlike anything she had ever known before, and Mr. Darcy felt it to be the happiest moment of his life, especially when she whispered a few moments later, "Thank you, William."

When they returned to the ballroom a few moments later, a few shrewd people looked knowingly at the couple, and the flushed crimson tints blooming on their faces. Elizabeth hid her left hand as much as she could in the crook of her betrothed's arm; if her mother chanced to see it, there would be no end of exclamations.

She met Jane, and they shared a smile between them. Mr. Bingley had had the same view in mind as Mr. Darcy; for a silver ring with a single diamond surrounded by seven tiny sapphires sparkled on her delicate hand. Bingley had given it to her during the opening set.

All in all, Elizabeth enjoyed herself immensely. The only embarrassment she felt was during supper, when Sir William Lucas very ceremoniously raised a toast to the happy couples, and Mr. Collins of course had to get a speech in edgewise, which he concluded with a low bow to Mr. Darcy. Besides these minor trifles, the evening passed delightfully for everyone involved; and it was with exuberant spirits which were no means fatigued, that the ladies climbed into the carriage after the festivities were concluded. The young gentlemen handed the ladies into the carriage; Mr. Darcy kissed his love's fair hand, and glanced intensely into her eyes; and then they were off.

As Elizabeth leaned back onto the walls of the carriage, she couldn't help smiling as she touched her lips in the darkness, unperceived by anyone.