Posted on Thursday, 13 June 2002
Author's Note: We pick up our story in the Netherfield drawing room. Elizabeth has joined Mr. Bingley and his guests, leaving her sister Jane's sick room for a brief respite. This is but a thin sketch, an exercise, a variation on a theme...'what if' Elizabeth called Mr. Darcy's bluff and said "Yes!"
Mrs. Hurst sang with her sister, and while they were thus employed, Elizabeth could not help observing, as she turned over some music books that lay on the instrument, how frequently Mr. Darcy's eyes were fixed on her. She hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object of admiration to so great man; and yet that he should look at her because he disliked her was still more strange. She could only imagine however, at last, that she drew his notice because there was a something about her more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in any other person present. The supposition did not pain her. She liked him too little to care for his approbation.
After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm by a lively Scotch air; and soon afterwards Mr. Darcy, drawing near Elizabeth, said to her - "Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?"
She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question, with some surprise at her silence.
"Oh!" said she, "I heard you before; but I could not immediately determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say 'Yes,' that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste. Since I always delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt, I therefore made up my mind to tell you that I did not want to dance a reel at all. Sadly, though, I am a very selfish creature and telling you 'No' would overthrow the pleasure I would derive from dancing." And with an arched brow that framed eyes that sparkled dangerously, Elizabeth curtsied to him and smilingly said, "Now despise me if you dare."
Mr. Darcy, though startled and pleased that Elizabeth expressed a wish to dance with him, blushed hotly that she had misunderstood him. He had merely been trying to find something coherent to say to her and was inspired to discover whether music stirred her to life, as it did him. He couldn't, he wouldn't embarrass her by correcting her misconception, and finding his manners, he returned her courtesy with a grave bow. "Indeed I do not dare," he said, fixing his eyes on hers. Then he leaned forward and whispered into her ear, "Although my head is dizzy from trying to keep up with your logic..."
His reward for this remark was a smile so bright that the candles that lit the room seemed dull by comparison. Side-by-side Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy began to dance a Scottish dance, attracting the astonished attention of not only Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, but Mr. Bingley as well. Elizabeth, energized by the dance, fought an impulse to laugh out loud at the ridiculous figure that she and Mr. Darcy were presenting to the room. But he had asked her, and many's the time when she and her sisters had rolled up the carpets and danced thusly at homes throughout the neighborhood. Indeed, when the Forsythes had resided at Netherfield, before Mr. Bingley had picked up their lease, Elizabeth had often danced in this very room, sometimes with Charlotte Lucas or Anne Forsythe when male partners weren't available, sometimes with Anne's cousins, sometimes with Charlotte's brothers.
Caroline Bingley, her eyes wide with alarm, quickly ended the Scottish air and rising, beckoned Elizabeth to take her turn at the pianoforte. Mr. Bingley would have none of it, however. Clapping and grinning, he came up to Elizabeth and demanded an opportunity to dance with her as well. Mrs. Hurst, seeing that this pairing would free Mr. Darcy to dance with her sister, eagerly sat down to play. But alas, by the time Mr. Darcy had relinquished Elizabeth's hand to his friend, a servant was at his elbow offering refreshment, and so Miss Bingley was forced to stand beside the object of her desires while he openly admired Elizabeth's dancing. To her withering remarks about Elizabeth's dress and style of dancing, Mr. Darcy seemed absolutely impervious. Indeed, when Elizabeth and Mr. Bingley, breathless and flushed, joined them, Mr. Darcy, congratulated her on liveliness.
"Thank you, Mr. Darcy," she replied, "but as you know, 'any savage can dance.'"
He started, caught her eye, then blushed and laughed. "Sir William ought not to have repeated that to you," he said sheepishly.
"We had a dancing master once," the lady continued, addressing Mr. Bingley as she gratefully took the tea offered to her, "who told me that dancing was the greatest equalizer in the world. In all other activities, rank is preserved, even exalted. But in dancing, so said Mr. Hayes, all couples, all men and women, are on equal footing. Though one couple may lead the dance, all have their turn to shine. Perhaps, Mr. Darcy," she said, facing that gentleman squarely, "that is why you generally despise dancing."
His eyebrows shot up in amusement, "And whoever said that I despise dancing?"
"I believe you once said that it would be a punishment to stand up with any woman..."
He interrupted her, laying a hand firmly on her arm, and once again fixing his eyes upon hers, "You must not repeat every foolish thing I've said since coming to Hertfordshire. I do believe the walls hereabouts have ears."
At this Elizabeth laughed heartily, amazed and curiously gratified that she had uncovered a sense of humor in such a proud, disdainful man. Unconsciously she covered his hand with her own and said sweetly, "Welcome to the country, Mr. Darcy. We take care of our own here. We may not have fine manners, such as you are used to in London, but we have true hearts and gentle arts. You will do well to remember that our simple ways do not make us simpletons. And though of all the activities I imagined for this evening, dancing a reel was certainly not one of them. I thank you for the dance." She curtsied to the gentlemen and ladies, "But now I must attend Jane. And she's sure to scold me for dancing with Mr. Darcy when we all know I should have refused."
As he watched Elizabeth trip lightly from the room, Darcy acknowledged to himself that he had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really believed, despite the inferiority of her connections, that he was in very grave danger. Their next meeting proved him right.
From boyhood and by habit, Mr. Darcy was an early riser. The next morning found him headed downstairs to avail himself of a hearty breakfast when he encountered Elizabeth coming in from a morning walk. Her cheeks were rosy from the crisp November air and her arms were full of fragrant yellow and orange flowers. She explained that she had raided an adjoining meadow to brighten Jane's room.
"Mr. Bingley will not like that you are forced to give his sister wild flowers while under his roof," he said with a smile. Then added, "But isn't it late to be finding any flowers still blooming?"
"To be sure, but I know a corner near a stone wall that's protected. These are the last though."
He then inquired whether she had breakfasted, and since she had not, he asked her to join him after she had delivered her gift. The meal that followed was one of the most enjoyable he had ever had. Elizabeth proved a most satisfactory companion-witty, wise, gentle, and energetic. Just as he was about to throw himself into the pit of despair at being unable to court her, she startled him by introducing the subject herself.
"I hope you don't consider me a revolutionary, Mr. Darcy," began the lady, "because of what I said last evening regarding dance being a great equalizer."
"Perhaps not a revolutionary, but certainly you expressed an idea more republican than I would have expected from a gentleman's daughter."
"Then you concede that I am a gentleman's daughter?"
"But, of course..." And then he understood, and he looked at her curiously. Was she pursuing him? For the first time in his life, he didn't panic at the thought that a young lady wanted to please him. Instead, with a rush of enthusiasm, he embraced the notion that they were equal in rank as well as temperament and understanding, and fervently wishing that he could embrace the author of the thought as well, he let her lead him where she would.
The night of the Netherfield Ball, the 26th of November, Mrs. Bennet talked far too loudly about the marriage prospects of her daughters. Mary Bennet insisted on exhibiting her feeble talents, and Lydia and Kitty Bennet danced and flirted with all the officers in attendance. Mr. Collins spoke to Mr. Darcy without a formal introduction, and Louisa Hurst played the pianoforte as if the hounds of hell were at her heels. But neither Elizabeth and her Mr. Darcy, nor Jane and her Mr. Bingley seemed to mind in the least. Content in knowing that in life's dance, each had found a perfect partner, they spent the evening congratulating themselves that they had let neither pride nor prejudice distort the love that providence had blown their way.