Six Inches Deep in Mud

Chapter 18

W e dance the first part of the set in silence, or as much silence as there can be in a room filled with voices and music. She looks at me; her gaze has turned into a sharp scrutiny, and I feel she wishes to say something but is reluctant to begin.

“Mr Bingley is indeed hosting a ball for the entire neighbourhood,” she finally remarks.

“Indeed, it is a large gathering for a private country ball.”

“It must be difficult for you. I know you despise large crowds of people you are unacquainted with.”

“Not as much as I used to. As I previously stated, it depends on the company. But you, Miss Bennet, seem to be enjoying this particular ball rather less than the last one.”

“If you are referring to the assembly, I doubt you looked at me closely enough to notice the degree of my enjoyment. And dancing with you is a novelty I had not anticipated at that time.”

“Your apparent displeasure is due to the fact that you are dancing with me, then?”

I notice a shadow on her face. “That is a very far-fetched conclusion, Mr Darcy. Far from the truth also.”

“Is it? I have never been so pleased to be wrong, Miss Bennet.”

There is a short pause as the dance moves us apart. From the corner of my eye, I notice Wickham dancing with a young woman whose name I cannot remember.

In another corner, Mr Collins is talking animatedly to Mrs Bennet and Lady Lucas, and I assume I know the subject of their conversation.

“What a coincidence that our cousin Mr Collins is so closely connected to your aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” Elizabeth says, following my gaze.

“True. There has been more than one peculiar coincidence since I left Hertfordshire.”

“Did your aunt not mention anything about Mr Collins?” she enquires. “Mr Bingley told us your trip to London was related to Lady Catherine and her daughter.”

“No, she did not mention anything about your cousin. We had other matters, more pressing and more urgent, to resolve in a very short period of time.”

“And were those matters settled to your satisfaction? I assume they were urgent indeed since they required your immediate presence.”

“Not entirely to my satisfaction, but it was all I could do in order to return here, as I promised. There are still some long-lasting disagreements between me and my aunt that will require further negotiations.”

“A man can only keep so many promises,” she says, puzzling me even more. “I hear Lady Catherine speaks very highly of you, so I am surprised to hear of any quarrels between you. They must be on matters of great importance to your family.”

“They are. My aunt always wishes to have her own way, and I am stubborn too, especially when her demands affect my life or my sister’s.”

My answer causes another shadow in her eyes and a new frown. “Miss Bennet, I hope we can discuss this matter at length at another time. Perhaps we could…if the weather allows…tomorrow after breakfast I shall take a ride to Oakham Mount. It would be the perfect place for any sort of conversation.”

She pauses and takes a few more steps as the set requires. “Are you sure such a meeting would be appropriate, from the perspective of your aunt’s requests?”

Now I am completely baffled as to why my aunt has been mentioned and why Elizabeth should care about her. “Certainly not. Each of my rides to Oakham Mount would surely anger and appal my aunt, but it will not affect me.”

I had attempted to make a joke, but her countenance does not brighten in the slightest.

“My only concern is your opinion about the place I mentioned, Miss Bennet. I believed I knew it, but I am afraid I might have been wrong, or it has changed in the last five days.”

“My opinion does not change as easily as you imply. Sometimes the reason is strong enough though. But Oakham Mount is my favourite safe place, and it will remain so. I have not been there in the last few days, as neither the weather nor my disposition have been favourable to long walks.”

Her words increase my worry, but at least I am relieved that she has accepted the private meeting tomorrow. Regardless of the reason that is causing her state of distress, it cannot be well grounded, and it will surely be easily clarified.

“I am sorry to hear that. When we last met before my departure, your disposition seemed excellent. It is sad that something or someone has upset you. If it is something related to me, I hope you will proceed with your usual honesty and tell me what it is.”

“I have always been honest and never presented half the truth and conveniently concealed the other half. I shall certainly not begin now.”

“I am more and more troubled by your words, Miss Bennet, and I am lost as to your meaning other than to understand that you accuse me of concealing something from you. But I suspect that in my absence you acquired some information that, presented in a certain manner by certain people, might cast a shadow on my character. Is my assumption wrong?”

A new frown and a new shadow tell me my guess is accurate.

“Your assumption is correct. Which indicates to me that you are not ignorant of what that particular information might pertain to.”

“I would be a fool to be ignorant of such important matters that could affect my name and my family.”

Her face is now dimmed with distress, as I have only seen it once before. This discussion during the first set is causing more harm than good, and I am sure it will ruin the ball entirely for both of us.

“Even if the information is only half true, considering the gravity of the matter you just admitted, it is still enough to make me alter some of my previous opinions. Would you not agree, Mr Darcy?”

“I would hope I deserve to express my side of the story before you allow it to alter your opinions, Miss Bennet. Especially considering your brief acquaintance with the source of your information.”

“You are correct. These last days I have been eagerly waiting for the opportunity to hear your side of the story before I make any further decisions.”

I watch her intently. What could she possibly mean? Surely she cannot be so upset with me as to accept a proposal from her ridiculous cousin? Surely she cannot be so silly as to act in the rage of a moment and ruin her entire life?

“I appreciate your frankness, Miss Bennet,” I reply with a sharp irony in my voice. My attention is drawn by Wickham again; his partner is smiling at him, looking enchanted. He looks at me with a smirk of satisfaction, which grates on my nerves and irritates me. As always, he knows he has caused trouble and rejoices in his success. What the idiot does not know is that this time he has crossed a sensitive line for which he will not go unpunished.

“May I assume we shall remain silent till the end of the set?” Elizabeth enquires.

“As you wish, Miss Bennet. I would gladly carry on the conversation on any subject you find agreeable.”

“It would look odd to be entirely silent after we spoke so animatedly. But people must find it odd that you asked me for the first set in any case.”

“Probably. I can see your cousin is one of those people. He shows great interest in our dance.”

I see her blush, so I continue, though I know it is selfish of me to pursue a subject that makes her uncomfortable.

“Am I wrong to assume Mr Collins generally shows a great interest in you?”

She hesitates to answer and averts her eyes. “You are not wrong. I have also noticed you show a peculiar interest in Mr Wickham, with whom I heard you are long acquainted.”

“May I ask, who is the young woman he is dancing with?”

“Miss Mary King. She came to live with her uncle and aunt recently.”

“I see…”

“Mr Wickham seems to be an amiable, friendly gentleman and very fond of dancing. He has asked me for the second set, and I assume he will dance with many of the ladies here.”

“How very civil of him. Mr Wickham is blessed with such happy manners that help him make friends easily. Whether he is capable of retaining them is less certain.”

I know my tone is far from composed, and I am certain Elizabeth notices too.

“I heard he has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship,” she replies with some emphasis, “and in a manner that he is likely to suffer from all his life.”

My patience is lost now.

“Unluckiness and suffering are certainly not the words that best describe Wickham’s life. I am sure he complained about the things he should have had and did not receive, but forgot to mention the reason for the denial of his bequest, nor all the things he did receive.”

There is another pause, and I notice her glancing at Wickham; my irritation increases even more. Sadly, the music stops, and I realise our set, which I had anticipated with such pleasure, has ended. I lead her off the floor, but she stops near a wall, continuing, “One may not realise the depth of another’s suffering, especially if one is blinded by other feelings, good or bad. I am not talking about Mr Wickham alone.”

“I look forward with interest to learning what are you talking about, besides Wickham. I hoped, Miss Bennet — nay, in fact, I trusted! — that you would ask for proof before believing a stranger’s claim against an older acquaintance whom at times you called a friend. It pains me to see how easily you granted your sympathy and pity where it is undeserved.”

She now looks at me with her usual intensity, and her eyes capture mine.

“You are mistaken, sir, in assuming I have any feelings for a stranger like Mr Wickham, either of pity or sympathy. He is a mere acquaintance whose company I found agreeable but never missed. I hope to be wiser than to believe a stranger over a friend, even if the friend conveniently forgot to mention past dealings that greatly affect the present.”

“I would have certainly revealed anything if I believed it would affect you, Miss Bennet. And I am ready to answer any of your questions at our next meeting, about my past dealings with Wickham or any other subject of your interest.”

“I shall thoroughly prepare my questions, Mr Darcy.”

“Please do so. As for Wickham, I would warn any honourable young woman not to trust him or the charms he so skilfully uses.”

She blushes, and her eyes narrow.

“Your warning, though probably well meant, is offensive, Mr Darcy. I shall certainly not trust the charms — skilful or not — of anyone I have only just met.”

I do not doubt her words, and I feel stupid for suspecting otherwise.

“I apologise. My warning was meant especially for your younger sisters. I shall speak to your father about this subject too since Wickham has already insinuated himself within your family, and, as you already surmised, he is not someone you can trust. He has deceived others, older and wiser, who granted him their trust and affection. I shall provide you with all the details about our past dealings.”

“I assume you refer to your father who, I heard, was his godfather. Mr Darcy, although we have spoken at length about Mr Wickham, please rest assured that your past dealings with him are of little interest to me. As I have already told him, your affairs are not my business.”

“I am glad to hear that, Miss Bennet. I feel like some of his claims have aroused your apparent disapproval of me since I returned.”

Her answer is delayed again.

“Some of his claims affected me, indeed,” she says. “Especially since they confirmed what I learnt from Mr Collins. This is why I am content that you agreed to have an enlightening discussion tomorrow.”

“Lizzy, do not bore Mr Darcy any longer,” I hear Mrs Bennet say, and Elizabeth’s cheeks colour with mortification. The woman continues, while I hardly know whether I should laugh or be angry on Elizabeth’s behalf. “Mr Darcy, I thank you for asking Lizzy for the first set. I know you assumed she would be slighted and without a partner as she was at the assembly, but Mr Collins would have danced with her.”

“I assure you it was my pleasure to dance with Miss Elizabeth, madam. And if neither you nor she would mind, I hope to have this pleasure again later.” My anger has won out, especially as I hear the matron again.

“Oh, how kind of you, sir! I can tell your gracious gestures are due to your friendship with Mr Bingley and Mr Bennet. Thank Mr Darcy, Lizzy!”

“Mama!”

“I am the one who should thank Miss Elizabeth for bearing my clumsiness in dancing and my tedious conversation,” I answer.

Just in time, Bingley arrives and interrupts the awkward scene.

As Elizabeth walks away with her mother, my mind is drowning in confusion. My discussion with Elizabeth barely made any sense at all. She is apparently upset about something she has discovered and believes I kept secret from her. And yet she does not seem too impressed by Wickham’s charms and claims. Or perhaps she has given importance to his revelations but not to the man himself?

As for that silly Mr Collins, all she told me was that the man spoke highly of me. What could be the problem there? I am more and more confident it is all a misunderstanding that will be explained thoroughly tomorrow.

I watch Mrs Bennet pushing Elizabeth towards Mr Collins, and something tightens in my chest. If that man is determined to propose to her, I fear he might enter into some sort of arrangement with Mrs Bennet and try to force Elizabeth against her will. The concern, as I see it, is only slight. I am more than ready to propose to Elizabeth officially; I am relying on Mr Bennet not accepting his cousin’s suit, and I trust Mrs Bennet will be impressed enough with my income to take my side against the clergyman, despite him being the heir to Longbourn.

However, as amusing as it might sound to be in competition with Mr Collins, I certainly wish to avoid any scandal that could further distress Elizabeth. Therefore, our meeting tomorrow will be of crucial importance.

The music for the second set is about to begin, and I decide to do my duty by my host, Miss Caroline Bingley, and be done with it.

I watch Mr Collins talking to Elizabeth, then Wickham approaching and taking her hand, leading her to the floor while Mr Collins does the same for Miss Lucas.

I am irritated, vexed, and yes, jealous. What angers me exceedingly is that the person I most deeply resent has ruined my first dance with Elizabeth. And that is something I shall not easily forget or forgive.