“It’s almost as if tonight was an ordinary night!”

“I know what you mean, Lizzy. Nobody’s shouting, nobody’s running along the corridors and up and down the stairs… I can’t feel a ball coming.”

“And it is! Here we are, dressed at our best, peacefully anticipating a night of delights.” After a pause, she added: “You look beautiful, Jane.”

With a shy smile, Jane replied: “So do you, Lizzy.”

“Mr. Bingley must see me first, otherwise, I’ll never even get a bow.”

“If you insist, I shall come after you,“ she magnanimously answered.

The young ladies were still laughing on descending the stairs to get in the carriage.

The room was already crowded when they entered it but, after a quick survey, Mr. Gardiner declared that the Bingley party had not yet arrived. He was proved right as, only a few minutes after, Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley appeared on the doorstep.

The parties curtsied and bowed to each other and Charles came closer to Jane and renewed his hand-kissing. Lizzy looked with a kind and happy eye on his display of affection. Her future brother – well, he had not proposed yet but that was only a matter of time, and a short time if she knew him well… – was as tender towards her sister in a small drawing-room as in a ball-room. Mr. Darcy, who had been informed of the agreement between his friend and Miss Bennet, was less indulgent to such a gesture. They are not engaged! How can he do that in a room full of people? He jeopardise her good-name! He was disappointed in his friend. Passion was not an excuse for rash behaviour! I wonder why Mr. Gardiner allows that, I would never. Thus, he glared disappointingly to his friend and the elder gentleman.

During his thought processing, he had been observed by Lizzy. She had given thoughts to what her aunt and sister had told her, during the two days that had elapsed and she had found truth in their comments. Her reproaches concerning Mr. Wickham’s situation were the most examined. Indeed, she had only heard the soldier’s version of the story and, indeed, his actions had recently shown some signs of ungentlemanliness. She, now, could see some impropriety in his attitude, in his disclosing such a private story after such a short acquaintance, in his blackening the name of a young lady totally unknown to herself. She had taken an almost immediate dislike for Mr. Darcy – based on his despising comments on the Meryton assembly and on herself – and had, afterwards, been so utterly prejudiced against him that it had prevented her from questioning the allegations of a charming man, as they were only reinforcing her feelings. Because of her sister’s request and her uncle’s opinion of the gentleman, she had decided that, although there was very probably some conflicting past between Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy, it was none of her concerns and the two of them had probably their share of responsibility. But she had not re-evaluated Mr. Darcy as long as his interference in her sister’s and Mr. Bingley’s business was concerned. She couldn’t agree with Jane’s allegations that he had been willing to prove his regrets by calling on her uncle with his friend. If, indeed, he wanted to apologise, then why not presenting himself directly in front of her sister and asking for her forgiveness? No, Mr. Darcy had probably resigned himself to the match, that was all! How could he rejoice in his friend’s union to such a family? Obviously Mr. Bingley’s happiness, which could be the only good reason, had not been reason enough in the autumn. Why should it become one now that winter was installed? In this mindset, she could only misunderstand Mr. Darcy’s stern look at Mr. Bingley and her uncle, and she very readily did it. And, despite her acknowledged willingness to see him with a new eye, she fell back in her usual behaviour in his presence and anger flared in her. A small piece of her mind also whispered her that she was disappointed with his behaviour towards herself. After having heard such praise from him through his sister, after the memories of his singling her out at the Netherfield ball, some part of her vanity had waited for a more flattering welcome than the stern bow he had addressed her with. Although she would have never confessed it, this disappointment had its share in her rising rage.

Meanwhile Louisa and Charles were making the required introductions. Lizzie tried to calm herself by listening to Mrs. Hurst’s quiet words and Mr. Bingley’s exuberant expressions. She managed to overcome her anger when she witnessed the readiness with which the latter, as soon as he had done his duty, had focused his attention back on her sister.

In truth, Charles had been quite nervous the whole day. Even if Louisa had told him that proposing on that very evening could appear a little bit premature, he was determined and would not change his mind. But if being resolved was surely a good beginning, it could not suffice. He had to find an occasion and, more important, he had to have something to say. The occasion didn’t seem such a hard thing to catch: a ball-room always went with, at least, one secluded spot. He had not been a rake before going to Hertfordshire but he was not innocent either and he had, sometimes, taken benefit of those remote places where flirting became more efficient. No, the occasion shouldn’t prove to be a worry… His main concern had been his proposal. Writing his letter had proven to be a fastidious task and even if he didn’t have to make a readable copy of his proposal, composing it had proven to be even more so. He didn’t want to appear over-flattering, but it was difficult when the object was so beautiful, angelic, perfect. He didn’t want to appear ‘puppyishly’ in love but… he was! He wanted to present all the advantages such a match would give her, as he was sure she hadn’t thought that way about him but he found that his wealth was nothing to compare to her goodness! Oh, it had been a tough speech to build… But eventually he had managed to and even to learn it by heart. And he had seen the entrance of a greenhouse while queuing before greeting their hosts. Everything seemed to be perfect, nothing would go amiss… Thus Charles had been enthusiastic during the introductions and was now completely dedicated to Jane’s enjoyment of the evening.

The said lady had blushingly welcome Mr. Bingley’s greeting. She knew such a gesture was not completely suitable but she had her uncle’s blessings and that was quite sufficient. She had been looking forward seeing him again. She had not been waiting for a call the day before but had been slightly disappointed nonetheless that it had not happened. The agreement they had reached had given her enough confidence not to become upset because of a Charles-less day and the assurance she had had that he would be there this night and that she would dance at least two sets with him had considerably brightened it. Now that he had ended his sociable task, she gladly returned to her old self, the one who smiled at him, the one who was always peacefully chatting with him, the one who couldn’t find faults in him and she added a zest of her newfound confidence by some light teasing and brighter smiles.

Therefore a more composed Lizzy took also benefit of the situation to have a look at Miss Bingley. She happily observed that, once again, she would be able to have some witty things to write to Charlotte: obviously, the dresses she had graced the Hertfordshire company with had nothing to do to with what she deemed deserving of a London assembly! To prevent herself form laughing out loud, she deviated her look and caught Mr. Darcy intently observing her. She silently challenged him and, although his expression almost immediately changed, he held her look. Mr. Darcy, do you mean to frighten me with your glare? I take it you hadn’t forgotten me after all… You were looking at me exactly as you used to do. But what’s this new expression? Some kind of humility? Some kind of apology? Why? What’s your purpose? Despite her growing unease, she wasn’t willing to be the one to break the look. She was trying to find something to say but the longer the eye exchange, the more at a loss she was to find words. Anger had come back but she couldn’t find a way, whether civil or not, to voice it.

The escape came from Mr. Gardiner who, at some point, had become aware of the situation between his niece and Mr. Darcy.

“Mr. Darcy, may I introduce my wife? Mrs. Gardiner, this is Mr. Darcy. I’ve told you about his estate situated close to Lambton. Mr. Darcy, if you recall, Mrs. Gardiner grew up there.”

Mr. Darcy was grateful, and his already good opinion of the elder gentleman improved further. Mrs. Gardiner’s appearance was one of a lady of fashion. For her husband’s sake, he tried to show himself at his best, his best for a social event at least.

“Mrs. Gardiner, I’m happy to meet you. I’ve had such a very interesting conversation with your husband the other day. His knowledge of the lands in England is very vast, indeed. I was very intrigued to meet his wife, who happens to use to be almost a neighbour of mine!”

Lizzy also had been very relieved by her uncle’s interference in hers and Mr. Darcy eye-lock. She knew what were his thoughts about her uncle but was expectantly waiting for his reaction to this introduction: he had been so deficient in civility in similar occasions in Hertfordshire! But Mr. Darcy managed to startle Lizzy by this long sentence to her aunt. The gentleman had searched a conversation with a lady from Cheapside, not with her, whom he knew and had a history with, but with a woman whose father may have been someone his father had bought something from… Her thoughts were in a whirlwind. Anger, astonishment, disappointment were each blowing in their direction. I don’t know what to make of that. He calls on my uncle with Mr. Bingley, he praises him to his sister, he’s more charming than I’ve ever seen him with my aunt, he barely speaks with me but he holds my look with some strange variations floating in his eyes, he scolds when he sees Jane and Charles together… Of course, he and aunt Gardiner come from the same area but I cannot believe he keeps his manners for the Derbyshire people and especially keeps his censure for the Hertfordshire ones! An ironic smile appeared on her lips, in spite of all. At least, I’m still able to find amusement in my discomposure...

The fact is that the gentleman in her thoughts had come, fully aware that he would see her, her sister and her aunt and he had prepared himself. And the truth is that he had really enjoyed his exchange with Mr. Gardiner. Mr. Darcy was not a man to despise people just because of their rank, he had not been brought up like that, he respected every worker on his estate, he respected every member of his staff in his London house and he now respected the plant reseller, because he had proved himself worthy of his esteem. His respect for the eldest Bennet sisters was another matter. He did respect them, if only because of their manners in the middle of such a family, but he had never really acknowledged it. Jane Bennet was too beautiful, Bingley was too infatuated with her, even the Bingley sisters had favoured her with some kind of friendship, he didn’t need to acknowledge it. And acknowledging his respect for the eldest would necessarily mean acknowledging it for her closest sister, and that… that… that would widen the already existing breach in his heart. He couldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t allow it. He had barricaded his heart during the whole day, dwelling on the unsuitability of her family, whether by sense of propriety, wealth or connections. He had fought hard to recall some slightly inadequate behaviour she had had in their common past. He had done his best in gathering in thoughts all the ladies whose noses were straighter, whose hair were fairer, whose accomplishments were wider. But, while he was discussing the Chestnut tree by the Lambton blacksmith with the aunt, he couldn’t help throwing what he hoped were careful glances at the niece. He thus beheld her face gracefully adorned with a teasing smile and he almost lost the line of the conversation. O Lord, help me! How can I resist her?

Another spectator had thoughts about Mr. Darcy conversing with Mrs. Gardiner. Miss Bingley couldn’t fathom why such a gentleman would condescend to speak to such a woman. She had been very satisfied with him in Hertfordshire, well, apart from the Miss Eliza’s fine eyes episode: he had properly ignored all those country people and, quite rightly if one considers the ill-mannered comments those people were able to make. But why he would not go on with this ignorance, she couldn’t understand. She decided that she had to save him and determinedly headed towards him. As soon as a short pause happened in their discussion, she interfered, changed the subject to one Mrs. Gardiner would have nothing to say about and monopolised the conversation.

If her aunt quite willingly yielded and went to further her acquaintance with Mrs. Hurst, Lizzy could not be so obliging with Miss Bingley. Although she had only listened to Mrs. Gardiner and Mr. Darcy from afar and with, at once, pride in her aunt and utter astonishment with his continuing amiability, she decided to step closer and try to give Miss Bingley a piece of her mind on her behaviour.

Mr. Darcy knew well enough the lady talking to him: one nod or two, one brief acknowledgement from time to time was all Caroline needed to go on and leave him in peace. He, therefore, could think back about his former conversationalist – as pleasant as her husband – and conduct his analysis of the Bennet sisters with ease – Miss Bennet obviously more displaying her feelings than she used to but nonetheless with much attention to decorum and Miss Elizabeth… Miss Elizabeth whom he knew he had surprised with his conversation to her aunt… Miss Elizabeth who was stunningly beautiful… Miss Elizabeth… Miss Elizabeth who had apparently decided to come and speak to him!

So engrossed was she in her monologue that Caroline became aware of Elizabeth’s presence only when she interrupted her so interesting analysis of Miss Umberight’s so disgustingly pale dress.

“Miss Bingley, Mr. Darcy, I believe I didn’t have a chance to have a word with you tonight. Oh, I didn’t interrupt you Miss Bingley, did I?”

You might have interrupted her, but surely it was not unwelcome!

Haughtily, the lady replied. “Miss Eliza! You seem to be in good health tonight. You’ve got a… nice dress. Did you have it make in Town?”

With a false smile, Lizzy replied. “No, it was made in Meryton. I do like Mrs. Bander’ talents and she knows what suits me best.”

“Mrs. Banders? And she is from…”

“Well, her father is Netherfield’s steward. I’m surprised you don’t recall her, I would have sworn I did see her with her sewing box in one of your corridors when Jane was ill.”

Caught in her lie, Caroline blushed. “Oh, that Mrs. Bander! Now that you remind me, I remember I needed her to mend one of my dresses. I had it made in London by Madame Danielle but the hem got lose while I was in Hertfordshire.”

“It is so hard to find someone who can work! But I’m sure you were satisfied with Mrs. Banders’s. A country seamstress cannot allow herself to have a bad name. News travel fast!”

“And you think we, in Ton, are slower to spread news than you are in the country?” Caroline was even more haughty than before. “I’ll have you know we are famed for the fastness of our tongues!”

Mr. Darcy was frankly amused. It had been a tough fight but Lizzy had won on a high hand! Her impish smile was enough for Caroline who understood she had been trapped. The horror showed in her eyes and she clapped her mouth shut. Even the blow that followed couldn’t make her utter a word.

For Mr. Darcy’s admiration for Lizzy was, by then, too high to prevent him from entering in conversation with her.

“Miss Bennet, Georgiana asked me to give you her best regards. She spoke very highly of you after your meeting at the Hursts’.”

Oh Lord, he even speaks willingly and very civilly with me, now! Well, Lizzy, you quite easily turned Caroline Bingley into a fish, you can answer him. “I did enjoy our discussion too.” Although I found myself unsettled from time to time. “She spoke very highly of you, too, by the way! I must say I was somewhat surprised by the way she described you.”

Mr. Darcy coloured slightly. Withdrawing into his shell would have been his usual demeanour but he remembered his resolve to behave at his best. He took upon himself and tried to answer her last reply.

“I hope it wasn’t a bad surprise. But you must not believe everything she says… She… She was very young when I happened to become her guardian and she looks up to me as her father.”

Oh. I didn’t expect that. He got me, there.

Seeing her discomforted air, he went on. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to upset you.”

“No, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to pry.”

Caroline was highly disgusted with what was happening in front of her. The situation was much worse than what had happened those evenings at Netherfield. They were not arguing. They were even excusing one to the other. She had not been blind to his looking at her competitor. She had seen his amusement after she had reduced herself to silence. What did this country-girl have that she didn’t? Why had he never talked to her with this personal tone?

The first chords of the music were played. Lizzy silently watched Mr. Bingley escorting Jane to the floor. The pleasure she felt at such a sight lighted up her face. Mr. Darcy, who had been refraining from asking her for the first set since she had walked to him, beheld her flourishing smile and it broke his reserve. To Caroline’s absolute horror and his own surprise, he said: “Miss Bennet, if by chance your card was empty for the first set, I would be honoured to dance it with you.”

Lizzy had been so unsettled by her conversation with him that, absentmindedly she agreed; it’s only on hearing Miss Bingley’s shriek that she realised she was about to dance her second dance with him.

Sow Potatoes, See What you Shall Reap, Chapter 16