An End to Estrangement - A Pride and Prejudice Variation

Part 8

Lizzy was scarcely listening to Mr Egerton and had long abandoned searching for the sister he described. Instead, she allowed sight of so many people dancing in time to a piece of music she only vaguely recognised to swim in front of her. The sight was almost hypnotic, had she not still been vaguely aware of the effort it took her to keep her gaze averted from a certain gentleman.

Some movement to one side caught her eye, bringing her back to the present, and she was not quick enough to register what it was when she felt Mary lay a hand lightly on her shoulder.

"Mama," she whispered, and Lizzy saw that, in fact, the movement had been Mrs Bennet, who had given up on trying to attract her daughters' attention by waving and was now bustling towards them, seemingly unconscious of how narrowly disaster was averted as the dance drew to its conclusion.

"Is something the matter?" Mr Egerton asked, leaning towards the young ladies with a vaguely mischievous glance playing about his lips. "Even I can sense a change in the air."

"Our mother," Elizabeth murmured, standing as Mrs Bennet approached and raising her voice so that Mr Egerton, along with their other neighbours might hear her. "Mama! Is something the matter? Here, take my seat."

"Thank you, no," Mrs Bennet said, glancing with a curious frown at Mr Egerton, who had dropped his gaze and shifted in his seat as if to hide any association between himself and the two young ladies. Lizzy stifled a smile. She could hardly blame the poor man for not seeking to draw Mrs Bennet's attention.

"Why are you sitting around?" she asked, fixing Lizzy with an accusatory stare. "You ought to be dancing."

"I came to join Mary," Lizzy offered. Mrs Bennet glanced down as if surprised to recognise her other daughter was there at all, and dismissing her just as quickly with a disinterested sniff.

"Oh, well, Mary never cares to dance. You must come with me, Lizzy, and be introduced properly to Mr Bingley. Look - he is asking Jane to dance a second time with him. That is a good sign, do not you think?"

"Perhaps," Lizzy said, evasively. "But surely wrenching them apart only that I might be introduced is hardly worth the effort -"

"Nonsense!" Mrs Bennet would no more listen to reason that she would release her vice-like grip on Lizzy's forearm, and soon Elizabeth felt herself being marched quite unwillingly back towards the other dancers. The next words on Mrs Bennet's lips were the very worst ones Elizabeth could imagine and she wished then and there that she might be struck with an infirmity herself, if only that she might escape the meeting that would, now, be impossible to avoid.

"Mr Darcy! This is another of my daughters, Elizabeth. I see Mr Bingley has already secured himself a partner for this dance, but perhaps you would care to dance with my Lizzy?"

"Mama," Lizzy began, her throat dry. Her eyes darted from the ground to the faces of those around her, at last running out of alternatives and being forced to rest, fleetingly, on Mr Darcy's face. There was the same strong chin she recalled from history, the same dark eyes she had committed to memory the very first time she had looked into them. Now, though, they fixed on her blankly, as if there was no glimmer of affection, no anger, no spark of recognition at all.

"Miss Elizabeth." He bowed, politely, and offered his arm to her as if to a stranger. "It would be my pleasure."

Pleasure he said, but there was no indication of this or any other emotion underpinning the rigid, mechanical way he manoeuvred them into place. Only one thing betrayed that he did, in fact, recognise her, recall their shared past just as well as he did. Forsaking a position close to Jane and Mr Bingley he walked as far away as it was possible to be from either his friend or her family, the only place where they might be permitted to share a word or two without fear of being overheard.

"Mr Darcy," Lizzy began at last, praying that he could not hear the tremble in her voice and wondering why even that must betray her, now of all times. "It was such a surprise to see you again. I thought - I thought you did not care to dance."

"I do not," Darcy said, grimly standing to attention and offering her his hand. "But I also do not care to bring shame upon someone by refusing." His tone dulled, dropping in both tone and volume that, had Lizzy not been straining to hear every word, she might have missed it. "In that, Miss Bennet, we differ almost entirely."