Page 33 of Cousin Conundrum

“Archers,” Mrs. Bennet hissed, venomous. She plastered on a smile as Sir William, Lady Lucas, and Charlotte approached.

The Lucases greeted Elizabeth’s family cheerfully and, for their kindness, were forced to endure Mr. Collins. As their cousin prattled on, Sir William glanced over his shoulder to where Mr. Bingley’s party spoke with the Archers. Mr. Bingley bowed to Miss Edith, offering his arm, while the austere Mr. Darcy did the same with Miss Archer. They made a striking pair.

Elizabeth’s heart spasmed, as if attempting to win free of a vice.

“Shame,” Sir William said when Mr. Collins’ words halted. “If they had arrived but a moment later, I daresay it would be your Jane and Elizabeth being led out to dance, or even my Charlotte.”

“Jane, certainly,” Elizabeth’s mother agreed, not taking her narrowed gaze from the Archers. “What our community needs is more gentlemen, not Archers.”

Elizabeth rallied to exchange an amused look with Charlotte, seeking commiseration for Mrs. Bennet’s slight. No one, not even Elizabeth’s dear friend, must know the pain it caused her to see Mr. Darcy lining up with Miss Archer. Elizabeth could not bear the humiliation.

Mr. Collins turned to Mrs. Bennet. “Allow me to politely disagree, Mrs. Bennet. My cousins are examples to be followed and their presence betters any community. Lady Catherine always points out the benefits of setting a good example for others. That is why her ladyship conducts herself with such superiority at all times.”

“And Mr. Bingley is everything amiable.” Sir William’s cheer appeared a touch forced to Elizabeth. “He will certainly dance with every one of your lovely daughters tonight.” He smiled at Charlotte. “And mine.”

Near the entrance, the gentlemen of Meryton all but swarmed the remaining Archer daughters, Sir William’s sons among them. In moments, Miss Mabel and Miss Catherine joined their older sisters in forming up for a set.

“John promised me this dance,” Lydia squeaked in reference to Sir William’s eldest. “How dare he.”

Lady Lucas cast her son a quick look. “I am certain it merely slipped his mind, dear. I will remind him after this set.”

Lydia answered with a huff, then grabbed Kitty’s arm. “Come, Kitty. I want to check my hair.”

“Kitty must dance with Mr. Collins.” Mrs. Bennet took Kitty’s other arm and yanked her away from Lydia, then pushed her at their cousin.

Kitty looked between Mr. Collins and Lydia in confusion.

“Dance with him, then,” Lydia snapped. With another huff, she stomped off, tugging at the front of her gown as she went, trying to lower the bodice.

Elizabeth sighed. Dare she hope Lydia wouldn’t return to her more tried and true methods of attracting attention?

“I doubt I will be dancing at all tonight,” Mary muttered and turned away, moving off in the direction of a line of chairs along the wall.

Jane merely stood beside their mother, her hands clenched before her and her gaze following Mr. Bingley.

“Sir William, you must introduce us the moment the set finishes,” Mrs. Bennet declared with enough volume to cause Elizabeth to wince and dart her gaze about to see who heard.

“Oh, to be certain I will. As I said, Mr. Bingley will most assuredly wish to dance with your lovely daughters. Mr. Darcy as well, I do not doubt.”

“Mr. Darcy?” Mr. Collins repeated. “That is Mr. Darcy? Of Pemberley? He is the nephew of my patroness. I must make myself known to him at the earliest possible moment. He will be grateful for news of his aunt and of his betrothed, Miss de Bourgh.”

Betrothed? The word reverberated through Elizabeth, filling her ears with buzzing and clogging her throat so she couldn’t swallow.

The only man who had ever stirred such passion in her, and he was betrothed? What right had he to meet her gaze with such intensity when he had an understanding with Miss de Bourgh? Nausea clenched her stomach.

And for an engaged man, Mr. Darcy had certainly sought a set with Miss Archer with alacrity.

“I care not if you speak with Mr. Darcy, Mr. Collins.” Mrs. Bennet shoved Kitty even closer to their cousin. “But for now, you must do your duty and dance with Kitty.”

“Yes. Immediately.” Mr. Collins offered his arm without looking at Kitty. “And I will make myself known to Mr. Darcy.”

Dragging Kitty with him, Mr. Collins shouldered his way between Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley, forcing the latter and Miss Edith farther down the line. Mr. Darcy stared down his nose at the babbling Collins, then answered with a monosyllable, his annoyance clear.

Elizabeth struggled to find entertainment in his effrontery. For the shield of her usual sardonic wit. At the very least, her cousin’s behavior should embarrass her, and indeed Kitty’s cheeks were red with mortification, but Elizabeth could not muster even an illusion of that emotion. No, embarrassment wouldn’t come. Only misery to find that her carriage-gentleman, whose face haunted her dreams, was already promised to another.

***

The evening wearing on, Kitty took a glass of punch and slipped away from the table, moving to one side of the room. She spotted a pair of local matrons gossiping animatedly and settled in a seat that placed them between her and where her mother stood watching the dancing. Not only could Kitty eavesdrop on local happenings, the women effectively hid her from Mrs. Bennet. Kitty knew her mother wanted her to dance a second set with Mr. Collins, but she felt extreme opposition to doing so.