An (Un)believably Artful Theft (Love’s Little Helpers #4)

Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32

N o one called at Longbourn over the following two days besides Aunt Philips, who was family. Elizabeth was too busy ignoring Mr. Collins while stitching on her gown and those of her sisters to give the passing thought any further consideration. Not so her mother, who fretted every minute, convinced with each passing hour that everyone would call at once. Papa proclaimed it a blessing no such thing occurred, to which they all laughed in agreement and continued readying their ensembles for the grand event. Who had time for social calls and gossip when there was so much to be done?

When the time finally came to leave for the ball, Elizabeth admired her mother and sisters as they filed into the front hall. The result of their exertions had been well worth the price of their sore, swollen fingers. Her own simple cream gown had been improved with the addition of the colorful blue sash and the sunset gold ribbon that Kitty recommended she weave into her hair. Even her father looked handsome in his neatly tied cravat and new waistcoat.

She had avoided the question since learning of the ball, but as they waited for the carriage to pull up in front of the door, Elizabeth could hold it in no longer. While Mr. Collins described the entrance hall of Rosings and the number of servants attending, Elizabeth sidled to her father’s side. “Papa?”

“Yes?”

She had his attention―now, how to phrase her question so that he would give it fair consideration… “I do not wish to cause offense by purposely avoiding any of Mr. Bingley’s guests?—”

“You are a clever girl, Lizzy. You will find a way to evade Mr. Darcy without offending anyone.”

“What if it is unavoidable?” He arched a brow. She added, “What if Sir William tries to get us to dance, as he is wont to do?” Elizabeth would hover around Sir William with the hope that he would try.

“You have managed to avoid his interference before. Why should you be unable to avoid it tonight?” Papa faced her directly, eyes narrowing. “Mr. Darcy is a threat to your future security. He must be avoided at all costs. It should not be difficult when so many from Longbourn, Meryton, and the militia have been invited. You will not want for dance partners.”

Elizabeth could not share in her father’s optimism when the only gentleman she wished to dance with that evening was the one man he denied her .

She resented the Rembrandt for the limitations it had placed upon her. For a moment, she considered telling her father about her savings. The amount she had earned could not compare to what the Rembrandt would provide, but it would help.

She opened her mouth and turned to him, the tangled words ready to jumble off the end of her tongue when Mr. Hill opened the front door for them and Lydia pushed her forward. “Come on, Lizzy! We shall be the last ones to arrive!”

Kitty giggled. “So that everyone may witness our grand entrance.”

“As they should!” Mama exclaimed. “I have never seen my girls looking as lovely as they all do this evening. Now come, before the dancing begins! I do not want Mary and Jane to keep their partners waiting.”

“And Cousin Elizabeth will not wish to miss any of the dancing, as I am humbled to have the honor of her acceptance for opening dance.” Mr. Collins raised his arm for her to accept.

As if having to dance with him is not enough!

Fortunately, Lydia shoved her again, sending Elizabeth forward and out of Mr. Collins’s reach. She kept her momentum going all the way out to the waiting carriages that would convey them the short distance to Netherfield Park.

She took her seat beside Jane, across from Mr. Collins and Kitty. Remy attempted to join them, but Mr. Hill was ready with a lead in hand. With a ruffle of his curly fur, Elizabeth promised to hide a sweetmeat or some other tasty treat in her reticule for him, and the carriage door closed.

Kitty and Jane spoke excitedly of the evening, but though Elizabeth took care to smile and nod, her heart was not in it. She had come perilously close to revealing her secret to her father. Had Lydia not shoved her forward, Elizabeth would have broken his heart and shattered his trust in her. She had succeeded in something he might have done, had he tried. One more failure to add to his conscience. No, Elizabeth must keep her secret. The price of revelation was too steep.

Netherfield glimmered from afar like a giant star in the night sky. She determined to do her best to pretend to enjoy the evening, lest she dampen her sisters’ merriment. Already, Jane was watching her with concern furrowing her brow. Wiping the fog from the glass with her handkerchief, Elizabeth smiled at her. “Is it not beautiful?” She looked pointedly at Netherfield, then back at Jane.

“It looks like a pearl in a sea of black.” Kitty clapped her hands. “Oh, what fun we shall have!”

“It is stunning,” Jane whispered.

And it might one day be Jane’s house to manage! The hope that Jane could find happiness with Mr. Bingley carried Elizabeth up the stairs and into the entrance hall. Laughter and bright perfumed flowers enveloped her, their cheer feeling like a smack in the face of Elizabeth’s growing misery .

Mr. Bingley’s expression when he spotted Jane was worth everything. He had been waiting for her, and as soon as greetings were exchanged, he called for the music to start. He carried Jane off to the head of the line forming on the ballroom floor.

Mr. Collins followed, pulling Elizabeth along with a firm grip on her hand and presumptuously assuming a higher place in the line than was their right.

She tried to free her hand. “Mr. Collins, would it not be best to place ourselves further down the line?”

He puffed out his chest. “The patronage of Lady Catherine de Bourgh affords me a higher status. I see that two of her nephews are here, and I am certain that once they realize the connection to their esteemed aunt, they would insist on closer association.”

Two nephews? Dear Lord, he did not mean Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, did he? Who else could it be?

Several townspeople noticed Mr. Collins’s arrogant placing. They gasped behind their hands and whispered behind fans. Elizabeth’s face burned in mortification. She had not been at the ball for ten minutes, and already she had experienced her fill of shame. The night was young and would test her to the fullest.

Mr. Darcy stood across from his sister two pairings up. Georgiana smiled at her. While Elizabeth was genuinely pleased to see her friend, she could not look at her partner. Do not look at Mr. Darcy. Do not look at Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth looked up and her eyes locked with Mr. Darcy’s. A sea of emotion crashed over her. His eyes were dark and unreadable, but the twitch in his jaw gave him away. He was angry. At her? No. She knew it in her bones. Then at whom? Mr. Collins? Maybe, though Elizabeth doubted that Mr. Darcy knew the clergyman despite Mr. Collins’s claim of an acquaintance. Her father? She hoped not, though it was a likely explanation.

The music began, and she went through the motions, more aware of Mr. Darcy than she was of her own partner. His gaze darted to Mr. Collins, a frown twisting his lips. When Mr. Collins stepped on Elizabeth’s toes, she thought Mr. Darcy would haul the clergyman off the dance floor by the collar, but Colonel Fitzwilliam clipped him in the shoulder and whispered something in his ear.

She did her best not to look at Mr. Darcy after that, but she was aware of him all the same. Just as she knew he was aware of her.

She looked down at the opposite end of the line of dancers, to Mary dancing with Mr. Goode. Kitty and Lydia were dancing with a pair of officers in their red regimentals. They were enjoying themselves. At least they were all happy. Elizabeth would endure so long as they were having a good evening. She would endure. She could do this.

In the archway at the end of the room stood Papa, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked so vexed that their neighbors gave him a wide berth. Only Mama stood nearby, sipping from a flute of champagne, grabbing another from a passing footman’s tray before she had finished the last.

It was going to be a long evening, perhaps the longest of Elizabeth’s life, but she would do nothing to lessen her sisters’ joy. She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced a smile.