Pride and Proposals

In the seat across, Georgiana remained stiffly erect, barely moving despite the swaying of the carriage. Her face was devoid of color; her hands twisted in endless circles in her lap. She was too terrified to fidget with her clothing or her hair, but she watched Darcy as if she longed to follow his example.

The Darcys did not perform well to strangers.

Tonight was the grandest performance of all: Georgiana’s coming out ball. The last few weeks had been a flurry of invitation lists, menu selections, and dress fittings. Georgiana had borne it without complaint, but with all the enthusiasm of a child presented with a plate of cold gruel. She relished the opportunities to purchase the latest fashions, but all other tasks were a burden.

At least it would soon be behind them.

Noticing his eyes on her, Georgiana gave him a tight smile, recognizing they were partners in anxiety. However, she did not know that Darcy’s anxiety did not spring at all from the ball itself. He was confident in his aunt’s arrangements; the event was bound to be a success.

He was equally certain that Georgiana would perform very well. Although she did not share the easy manners and flirtatiousness of many girls her age, she was gracious and proper. She had practiced her dancing until it was flawless. Her conversation was appropriate, if a bit sparse. No one would find her lacking.

No, Darcy’s mind fixated on Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Just today, she had put off her half-mourning colors. For the first time since his long ago visit to Meryton, Darcy could dance with her. The memory of their dance at Netherfield still haunted him, and he was determined to have another—or perhaps even two. Although he would never win her heart, he would allow himself this small pleasure.

For one night, he would permit himself the fantasy that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was a woman he could pursue.

Reality would reassert itself soon enough.

Georgiana shivered, and Darcy chastised himself for neglecting his only sister. He leaned forward and wrapped his hand around both of hers. “Do not worry, dear heart. You will be brilliant.” Her smile was so brief he almost failed to note it. “Everyone will be charmed with your beauty and poise.”

One side of her mouth quirked up. “I would be satisfied with not embarrassing myself by doing something like spilling lemonade on my dress or stepping on the Duke of Lennox’s toes.” Darcy laughed at this unexpected show of spirit. Elizabeth had helped her grow more confident in her own opinions.

The carriage lurched to a stop. Any remaining color drained out of Georgiana’s face. Darcy gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing it.

“Courage, dear heart,” he murmured. She nodded stiffly, but as Darcy climbed out of the carriage he wondered if his words were really intended for her—or for himself.

***

The room was bursting with women wearing silks or satins and dripping with jewels. The men wore the finest, best-cut suits Elizabeth had ever seen. She had attended a few balls with Richard, but nothing that could truly have been considered haute ton. This was, the Countess of Matlock had assured her, the premiere event of the Season—the occasion no one would dare miss. The size of the crowd suggested the countess had not been exaggerating. Most of the London ton seemed to be packed into the ballroom.

The noise was quite deafening. The music was faint here, nearer the ballroom entrance, but the cacophony of conversation was overwhelming. Elizabeth and her Aunt Gardiner had withdrawn to a corner near the entrance, while her uncle fetched some lemonade. However, given the crush, she feared he might not return before the end of the week.

“You were right,” she said as they surveyed the scene. Mr. Darcy had caused a minor row with the countess when he had insisted on inviting Elizabeth’s aunt and uncle, but he had prevailed.

“Naturally!” Aunt Madeline said with a playful smile. “About what in particular?”

“The gown. It was not an unnecessary extravagance.”

“You look lovely,” her aunt said, raising her voice to be heard over the din. Elizabeth had not wished to spend extra money for the shop’s most expensive silk or lace. Although Richard had left Elizabeth a comfortable sum, she felt the need to be frugal.

However, Elizabeth’s aunt had insisted the extravagance of the event required the best the shop had to offer. If Elizabeth had chosen a lesser fabric, she would have felt out of place in this august assembly.

“That color becomes you,” Mrs. Gardiner observed. The gown was a pale yellow, which set off Elizabeth’s coloring. Having cast off her half-mourning only a week ago, she was still self-conscious about wearing any color. “I am sure many young men will be vying for your attention.”

Elizabeth smoothed the curls over her forehead. “I fear you gravely overestimate my appeal.” Although her dress had cost an extraordinary amount, it was rather simple and plain compared to many of the extravagant creations worn by the other women in attendance. She pressed on a piece of lace at her neckline which refused to lie flat. It hardly signifies, she reminded herself. I am here because Georgiana invited me, not to impress anyone in attendance.

“You do not believe any young men would be interested?” The tone of her aunt’s voice suggested she would not let this matter rest until Elizabeth had responded to her satisfaction.

Elizabeth sighed, preferring to avoid the subject. The size of her dowry had always been an impediment to marriage, but Richard’s bequest had improved her financial situation greatly. Now that she was forced to think on the matter, she conceded that she might be considered a more desirable marital prospect.

“You are a beautiful young woman,” her aunt continued.

“I would not mind dancing, but I am not at all interested in entertaining suitors.” Elizabeth stared down at her gloved hands. Surely no one would expect her to seriously consider marriage so soon after Richard’s death, would they?

“I understand, my dear.” Aunt Madeline’s voice was gentle and compassionate. “But you must contemplate it someday.”

“Must I?” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Now that I have a measure of security … I do not know. Lately, the thought of living at Netherfield has held appeal.”

“But, my dear, what about love?” Her aunt’s eyes were full of concern. “At such a young age, will you give up on finding love?”