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I walked around the crowds, watching people turn and talk, the dancing commenced just minutes. The laughing and voice were around me. There were friends and relatives, in-laws and sisters. The house was full of the people here for the private ball. There were red coats and shopkeepers, women and husbands.
I watched everything and everyone, evaluating some of the people to cross my view. My husband was in the parlor with Charles, William, and Dad. Wickham and Lydia were dancing. Mary was at the piano, with an intrusting man watching her dutifully, Kitty was talking to a red coat by the wall, laughing and being respectful. Ever since she had taken to Jane, Georgiana, I, she was so well behaved in society, not like our mother –who was half drunk- and our foolish sister of 16 year and already expecting.
"My dear Jane, I think our sisters shall be taken soon." I say, to the sister at my right, sitting down, smiling as I take next to her.
"I dare say you are correct, I hear from our mother that Mr. Cates has been courting our wise Mary for some weeks now." She says take a sip of water.
"Oh, but we cannot take anything our mother say to heart, how foolish she can say things when they are not even close. No, I must find out myself." I say taking my sisters hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Lizzy, do not embarrass Mary! For she is so lucky to be courted and 20, too! Let her be well!" Jane exclaims to me and I give her a short laugh in return.
"Do not fret, Jane, I'm going to go find Papa. Maybe we'll find our men at the same?" I say as I offer her my arm, she laughs as she takes it. We charge in to the groups of people, reply hello's and saying goodbye's. We finally find ourselves in the parlor, where the games of chance have been set up. Jane and I roll our eyes at Mr. Hurst who keep gambling his money away in drunkenness. I find our men at the corner talking to one another in confidence.
"Papa!" I exclaim as I rush over to his chair. It has been awhile since I have had the chance to talk with voice, as letters cannot talk. I throw my arms around his neck and Jane goes and sits on the arm of Bingley's chair, his arm snaking across her waist. Being married was so different, you were allowed to touch each other in public and you never were as reserved as you once were around your man.
"My dear Lizzy. How are you?" Papa asks me as I glance up at Darcy, who is studying his book, but I know that glance in his eyes.
"Wonderful as always! Have you talked to Lydia yet?" I ask him, wondering if she has told him the 'good' news or if Mama had told him.
"Oh, how fortunate she should be. I hear she is expecting and is quite glowing. I must tragically say I feel a bit sorry for her offspring. With your mother and myself, I hoped I would have at least one sensible child, but with parents as it will have, well, I have no words." He said, concentrating on his words as I went and sat by Darcy in the loveseat.
"I should say the same, though I feel a bit heartless." I say, the remark to Darcy, "Dear?" He looks at me questioningly, "Is this what heartlessness feels like?" I say, a teasing tone in my voice, and he looks at my with a raised eyebrow, Jane gasps along with Mr. Collin's as my father laughs, Bingley just chuckles.
"I say, my dear, that I could not really explain the feeling. When you feel void of anything but your own thoughts, and yourself at heart, then you are truly heartless to those around you." He says in an equally teasing tone.
"Oh, but with such pride how can you tell the difference, you have to know!" I exclaim, he just chuckles and tells me:
"I do not know, and never shall. For I have never experienced heartlessness. For when I was without you, I always had my sister, and without her my father or Bingley. So to ask me about heartlessness, well you'd be better off asking a Wickham about a dictionary." He said, and that got us all laughing. I leaned into him just a bit.
"I say, you two are quite a sight to behold." Says a quizzical voice, but the voice belongs to a Miss Caroline Bingley, who at 26, is making to look like a spinster. I smile up at her. She who loves my husband, or did, I dare say. For he has made his choice and I dare say I am the better pick, but I mean not to brag.
"Caroline, such time has passed!" Bingley says, jumping up from his chair and giving her a small hug as if he would wrinkle her if he applied any pressure. Sitting back down, she took the chair by him and Jane. Giving me a look to be countered with, and Darcy a look of admiration, Jane a look of niceness, Collins a look of disgust, my father a look of politeness, and Bingley, a look of love from a sister to her brother.
"Hello, Mr and Mrs. Darcy." She says in quite a formal tone, she thinks as much of as the De Bourgh's, well not as bad. Ever since I sat across from Darcy at a meal one Saturday, nothing has been the same.
"Please Caroline, Elizabeth. We are all family." I exclaim. She smiles forcedly.
"Ohh, Papa, the man with Mary, is what has been said to be true? The same with Kitty?" Jane asks him, leaning forward a bit, I watch as he chuckles.
"I have talked to both young men, and given both consent. The young Mr. Cates is not wealthy, but Mary is smitten, as for the Kitty, well, she has been engaged for some time, according to your mother. The man she is with is well with Darcy in age, he is 29. But he, I dare say, loves her. She has grown up a lot and it won't be the first time a young, handsome woman married a wealthy man." He finished, taking a sip of brandy.
"29? How old is Miss Catharine?" Bingley asks, astonished a bit though I don't know why. We just heard of a wedding near the coast of a Colonel Brandon of age 37 and a Miss Marianne of age 18 saying vows.
"Kitty is 18, now." I say, in a justifying tone.
"How is Georgiana? Any amiable men coming for her yet?" Caroline says, directing the conversations to us.
"Well, Mr. John Raddy has been around, has he not?" Darcy asks me.
"Yes, but I dare say she hasn't taking such a liking to him as he to her." I say back.
"Mr. Raddy, but he is of some age!" Bingley expresses.
"Charles, you act as if the old marriages are something new? Have you forgotten the one by the coast just a few weeks ago? Or my own to Darcy?" I ask him. Then as Darcy gives me a 'look', I exclaim: "Not that you are old to my age, Love. I just meant the difference of our years, one-and-twenty years I am to your nine-and-twenty." He shakes his head, and goes back to his book. I shake my head and roll my eyes. Jane just laughs and Bingley along with her, Papa chortles as he takes another sip of his brandy, Caroline smirks.
"My dear, I want to dance." Mrs. Collins says to her husband who has taken to playing with the drunken Mr. Hurst.
"Love?" Darcy asks me, as he looks at me, setting his book down. "Will you share a dance?" He asks me. I am surprised by this, because he has only ever asked a few times. He chuckles and takes my hand, leading me off to the dance floor. We pass Mother, talking loudly and ostentatiously, Lydia, raving about her pregnancy to Charlotte who can relate as her own son toddles around her house. We snake around couples and stags, reaching the floor for dancing. We start a dance, which is a slow one.
We go around, and across, through, and through again, down line, back up but backwards. It's spirited and lovely. We get to a faster but still slower, it was our first dance. I smiled at my husband, never really knowing what went right. I felt my heart flutter, and a coursing spark ran through me as our palms touched. It was if this was our first dance. I felt the world slip away from me, and all I could see was Darcy, my Darcy. He was tall, brooding, shy, handsome, well-read, gentle, and loving. He was everything a well-brought up man ought to be and more.
I saw him as I always had since we had told each other of our feelings. It was inescapable, but the song ended and as the tune went a fast pace, I lead us away from the dance floor, to an alcove. In which we were hidden from peering eyes, I turned to him.
"You once said 'You have captivated me body and soul, and I love, love, love you.' Well, Darcy, I must say you have done the same." I say in a whispering voice. He smiles and I pull him into a hug. I hug him tight to me, never wanting to let him go.
"Mrs. Darcy?" He said, in quite an equal volume as my own. I look up to him, and he captures my lips, something that still takes me by surprise. But I do kiss him back, even though it was quite inappropriate in place of what is taking place, a ball. But we still kiss, even though it broken off soon, it is still nice. We often kiss at home, but never in public, in public we hold hands or wrap our arms.
I hold his face in my hands and we smile at each other. Giving him one chaste kiss for last till we reach on in a fortnight, we left our spot and went back to our party.