Page 44 of A Most Favourable Match

“I do not suppose we should ever have been invited to such a ball before Jane’s engagement,” murmured her aunt under her breath.

Elizabeth nodded and laughed. It was entirelytrue. There was no other reason the Duke and Duchess of Suttonfield should ever have noticed the Bennet family or the Gardiners. She supposed that Lord Grantchester or Lord Keeble must have secured their place on the guest list.

“You must become accustomed to such high society, Aunt,” she returned with good humour. “Once Jane is Countess of Grantchester, I dare say we will not be able to escape these circles.”

Mrs Gardiner seemed about to say something in return, but then paused, distracted by something over Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Oh, look over there, Lizzy. Aren’t those your nice friends whom we met in the botanical gardens?”

Turning her head, Elizabeth’s heart leapt, then fell. Though her aunt had likely thought more of Mr Bingley, her own eyes were drawn to the taller man beside him. Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy stood on the other side of the antechamber, close to the middle ballroom doors; they must have entered the ballroom rather earlier than their own party. Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst were there too, arm in arm and whispering together, although Elizabeth neither expected nor wished to give them much attention. Her own task must be to keep Mr Bingley from ruining Jane’s peace, and Mr Darcy her happiness.

And if, while so doing, she could prevent herself from having another humiliatingly public debate with Mr Darcy, so much the better. Certainly, she did not look forward to speaking with him. There was no reason she should.

“Yes, it is Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy,” Elizabeth made herself say calmly.

She saw Lord Grantchester and Jane turn and look too. Nods of recognition and greeting passed between the gentlemen, but Lord Grantchester paused his progress rather than continuing across the room. Elizabeth had no wish to object. It was better for Mr Bingley not to be around Jane, and as for Mr Darcy, well…he was more infuriating to her than ever.

At the botanical gardens, Miss Darcy’s warm conversation and acceptance of Jane had given Mr Darcy every chance to recant his unhappy attitude to Lord Grantchester’s choice of bride. A more amiable or less stubborn man might have acknowledged earlier mistaken prejudice or offered belated congratulations. Mr Darcy had not taken either course, however. Even when Elizabeth had subtly prompted him, Mr Darcy had only looked away.

“Shall we go over and speak to them?” suggested Mrs Gardiner, who seemed to have taken an instinctive liking to Mr Bingley from the first. “I should like to meet Mr Bingley’s sisters properly, too.”

“May I have this dance, Jane?” Lord Grantchester asked his betrothed at almost the same moment.

Looking rather like a startled deer, Jane’s clear blue gaze passed uncertainly between her aunt and the man beside her. As it then passed over Mr Bingley and his party, Elizabeth thought she saw a flash of distress. Again, she wondered if Jane had guessed at Mr Bingley’s feelings and wished to spare them.

“Of course you must dance, Jane,” Mrs Gardiner said quickly. “Do not worry about Lizzy and me.”

Jane nodded to Lord Grantchester, though to Elizabeth’s eyes, it seemed a nod of acceptance rather than pleasure.

No such concerns seemed to touch Lord Grantchester. He smiled down at his bride-to-be. “We shall dance, and then I should like to introduce you to Viscount Roscombe and his sister,” he told her. “They are cousins of my mother, and I’m sure she will have written to them about you already. Lady Askerton should be here too and is very keen to know you.”

Elizabeth suspected that only she could sense the depths of despair behind Jane’s placid expression as she dutifully followed her betrothed onto the dance floor. It was inexplicable, but it was there. Elizabeth supposed that at some point she ought to talk to her aunt. Mrs Gardiner might have more ideas about both the cause of Jane’s unhappiness and maybe even a cure.

“Well, let us take a turn about the room and speak to your friends, Lizzy,” said her aunt cheerfully. “Jane has Lord Grantchester and will have no need for us for quite some time. We ought not to crowd her or insert ourselves with his relatives and friends unless invited.”

“I should warn you that Mr Bingley’s sisters consider themselves very much above my family, or indeed anyone else who does not have a fortune, a title, or make regular appearances in the society columns of the best newspapers,” Elizabeth said dryly.

Elizabeth restrained the urge to add that neitherthese ladies nor Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy were her friends. The good-hearted Mr Bingley did not seem to deserve such dismissal, and she would not give Mr Darcy even a moment of her consideration.

“Dear me,” Mrs Gardiner said calmly, taking Elizabeth’s arm with a smile. Her aunt’s equanimity was hardly a surprise; Mrs Gardiner had always been a sensible woman without pretensions or aspirations to social climbing. “Well, then. We shall have to keep our expectations in check.”

Steered by her aunt, and unable to think of any reasonable objection, Elizabeth soon found herself standing before Mr Bingley’s party and making the usual polite murmurings required at such times. Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst responded in kind, and Mr Bingley greeted them with apparently genuine pleasure. In contrast, Mr Darcy gave a rather stiff bow, his expression as sombre as ever.

“I see that Miss Bennet is dancing,” Mr Bingley remarked, looking across to where Lord Grantchester and Jane had already joined a quadrille. “The music will be fine and lively tonight. The Duchess of Suttonfield always has the best musicians.”

“Yes, Lord Grantchester was most eager to lead his partner out onto the dance floor,” Mrs Gardiner laughed as Mr Bingley continued to gaze at the pair, or rather at Jane. “They look well together, do they not?”

Mr Bingley nodded a little bashfully, trying to look away and then stealing another glance despite himself. He was not, in fact, the only young man looking admiringly at Elizabeth’s sister. Jane was verybeautiful tonight in her white silk ballgown, with pearls holding back her masses of blonde hair and her blue eyes both winsome and inscrutable.

Women too were looking intently at Jane, some with interest and others with barely disguised envy. All around the edges of the dance floor, Elizabeth could see and hear little ripples of interest in Lord Grantchester’s bride-to-be. When Mr Bingley spoke again, he was blushing slightly and trying very hard to keep his gaze on their aunt’s face.

“Miss Elizabeth here has told me before that their family had no dancing masters, but Miss Bennet’s grace on the dance floor shows that such services could only have been wasted,” he said, in carefully respectful compliment.

“We always danced at home with my mother from when we were small, although my father does not care for dancing,” Elizabeth said. Poor Mr Bingley! The least she might do to ease her mind would be to help the conversation flow. “It was largely my aunt and uncle who taught me and Jane our formal dances when we grew older.”

“How interesting,” said Mrs Hurst condescendingly, while Miss Bingley bestowed one of her most superior smiles. “How unusually you were brought up, Miss Elizabeth.”

“Hardly,” Mr Darcy said abruptly. Elizabeth looked at him in surprise. Surely there could scarcely be a less likely defender.

“My sister Georgiana has grown up dancing withme at family parties,” Mr Darcy went on. “I consider it a very proper way for girls to learn. One cannot be too careful with the acquaintance of the young.”