Wistfully Beautiful : A Pride & Prejudice variation by Elin Eriksen

Author:Elin Eriksen [Eriksen, Elin]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2023-04-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11 The Triumph of an Underdog

Mr Bingley had ordered musicians from Bergen on a clarinet, an oboe, and a flute to play the sarabande, fandango, and minuet. Darcy entered the ballroom and drew the attention of every female attending. Words had spread about his heroic hunt, the beast’s demise, and his subsequent feverish recovery. He doubted anyone was left uninformed. Bingley had enquired after a physician through Bennet, and he had sent the oldest woman he had ever seen. Anna had to be ninety if she was a day, with her leathered skin and crooked back. A fetid poultice had been smeared on his back and some even fouler-smelling liquid had been forced down his throat. Whether his recovery was due to his excellent health or the old crone, he could not say, but he expected she had spread his business to every eager ear. Now, he was immediately surrounded by curious men and admiring females, all of them begging him to relate his encounter with the bear—but one. She stood stoically in a corner, her countenance was uncommonly serious, her eyes trained on the floor. His wounds tightened on his back. Why did she not join the simpering ladies vying for his attention? She who had a particular interest in the bear’s end. It must be his butchered proposal that stood as a wall between them.

Darcy was tired of the ladies that fluttered their lashes coquettishly at him, clinging to every word he said and every limb they could lay a hand on. Never had he encountered a female that paid him no mind but to debate and question his principles. There was a certain danger in his interest, but the pull was stronger than the disincentives, and he found himself approaching the solitary wallflower. He told himself it was to end the unnecessary awkwardness between them. The truth was that it did not matter. He just wanted a memory to tuck away.

“May I have this dance, Miss Elizabeth?”

Vibrant green eyes rose startled from the floor. If he had not known better, he would have thought she had not noticed his approach. The seconds ticked ever so slowly by before her lips moved.

“You may.”

All eyes were upon them as he led her to the floor, where the musicians played tunes from the continent. The ballroom dances were not dissimilar to those in London, and Miss Bingley had called the quadrille, a dance that was performed in groups of four.

The colonel should have opened the ball as the highest ranked guest, but his gout prohibited him from dancing. In his stead, his son had been tasked with the honour of escorting the lady of the house. Darcy and Elizabeth joined them, with Bingley and Miss Bennet and Reverend Collins and Virgin Charlotte forming the last two couples.

The quadrille was not the most vigorous dance, but the grouping made conversation difficult. Elizabeth enquired after his health, and he brushed away her concerns with meaningless platitudes. The questions resting heavily on his mind could not be broached in company.

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