Pride Prejudice and Perjury

The Pemberley Ball

Chapter 8 ~ The Pemberley Ball

The day before the Pemberley ball, while picking flowers, Elizabeth heard the sound of horses, and looking up, she saw an unfamiliar carriage approaching the house. As the occupants alighted, Elizabeth was surprised to recognise Lord Edward Netherby and his sister, both of whom greeted her warmly. Jane and Bingley were delighted to welcome them to Willowbank and immediately proposed a tour of the grounds in the late morning sunshine.

Elizabeth was surprised at their arrival, given the prohibition at Pemberley regarding visits to Willowbank and her exclusion from Mr. Darcy's society. But they only arrived at Pemberley yesterday evening, considered Elizabeth. Mr. Darcy has not yet had the opportunity to warn them of how dangerous a creature I am.

Lord Netherby attached himself to Elizabeth and contrived to separate her from the rest of the party as they walked along the bank of the beautiful river. “I must confess that it was more than merely the fabled delights of Willowbank which drew me here so promptly. I come with a particular request to make of you, Miss Bennet. If that honour is not already promised to another, I request the pleasure of the first two dances at the ball tomorrow.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Elizabeth. How awkward, she thought. To give herself time to consider of how she might best explain the situation, she said, “There are those, I imagine, who might have wished – indeed expected – that special honour to be bestowed upon another.”

“Ah yes,” laughed Lord Netherby. “You are doubtless alluding to the designs of my mother and my friend Darcy – who has already intimated, and not at all subtly, I might add, how delighted he would be to see me partnering one particular young lady when he opens the ball with his betrothed.”

“The symbolism is quite unmistakable,” said Elizabeth, with an impish smile.

“Indeed it is, and while I have the warmest regard for that young lady, my feelings for another are warmer yet,” said he, looking at Elizabeth, who steadfastly avoided his gaze.

“Lord Netherby, I thank you for the honour of your invitation. I am conscious of the warmth of your application; but, most regrettably, I must decline it.”

Lord Netherby smiled, “Alas, I have left my run too late. I should have guessed that a lady of your considerable beauty and charm would be much sought after; her card could not possibly be empty so close to a ball. I pray that I am not too late, that it is not entirely full; that there are yet one or two – or perhaps even three – dances left for me?”

Elizabeth could not but be flattered at Lord Netherby's playful gallantry. However, the strength of his stated preference both surprised and alarmed her. Elizabeth liked Lord Netherby very much, and took great pleasure in his company. Perhaps, if her heart were not caught up in what felt to be an unending tempest, she might, very well, in time, come to love him. And then there was Georgiana. In consequence of Jane's report of their recent conversation, Elizabeth was aware that although she had not previously favoured her brother's scheme of marrying her to Lord Netherby, Georgiana was now considering it seriously, as a means of escaping her future sister-in-law, Caroline Bingley. Having spent several days in Netherfield Park where Miss Bingley was mistress – and then, as a visitor, not a younger sister – Elizabeth sympathised deeply with Georgiana, and wished in no way to become an obstacle to a possible means of her escaping such a fate.

It occurred to Elizabeth that her answer to Lord Netherby must also act to destroy his ardour and leave the field clear for Georgiana. Yet it was a disagreeable undertaking, which she embarked upon without enthusiasm. “Regrettably, Lord Netherby, I have no dance card in which to enter your name, for I shall not be attending the ball at Pemberley tomorrow.”

“I do not comprehend your meaning, Miss Bennet. Surely you cannot have another engagement that would take precedence over a ball! Young ladies are always complaining that there are never enough balls in the country. Why, my sister and I have travelled from Nottinghamshire to attend, and you live nearer. Furthermore, the purpose of the ball is to celebrate the engagement of Mr. Bingley's sister. Surely all of Willowbank must attend on so significant an occasion of their relative?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Bingley will most certainly be in attendance, but not I, for I have not been invited,” said Elizabeth, feeling all the embarrassment of so bizarre a revelation.

Lord Netherby, looking at her most earnestly, enquired, “Miss Bennet, what is this all about? I must tell you that I did not fail to notice, at my mother's ball in London, that not only did Mr. Darcy not dance with you, but he appeared to go to great lengths to avoid you.”

Elizabeth sighed, but remained silent.

“His behaviour struck me most forcibly and was entirely contrary to my expectations, on account of something which occurred about a year ago when I happened to run into Darcy at our club in London.

“He had just come up from Derbyshire to take care of some urgent matter of business. We were talking and drinking – too much, no doubt – and he intimated that for the first time in his life he understood what it was to love. Later in the evening, when we had imbibed even more wine, and were engaged in a most animated conversation regarding female beauty, he spoke with uncharacteristic passion and candour of a young lady whom he had first met in Hertfordshire and had but recently encountered again, in Derbyshire. Towards the end of the evening – or at least the last of it that I can recall; I do not know how much of it Darcy remembers – he mentioned a young lady who had the most beautiful eyes he had ever beheld. Though he was not explicit, it was evident that he was referring to the same lady of whom he had spoken on the two earlier occasions that evening. This time he let slip her name – it was… well, I imagine you can guess it,” said Lord Netherby, smiling playfully at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth's face reddened. She stared silently at the river. It must have been when Mr. Darcy was in London searching for Lydia and Wickham. Elizabeth had always thought him to be of a sober temperament, but perhaps the odious nature of the task in which he was then engaged caused him to overindulge with his friend on the evening in question.

“And now he is to marry Miss Caroline Bingley,” said Lord Netherby, shaking his head disdainfully. “How can my friend have allowed his ambitions to fall so far, from the very highest to… well… tell me, Miss Bennet, did you refuse… err, pardon me, that is not a proper question to ask a lady.”

Elizabeth smiled inwardly, for she surmised that Lord Netherby was conjecturing that she had refused an offer of marriage from Darcy – which, indeed she had, in Kent – but she well knew that it was not the reason for his present behaviour.

“Please forgive me, Miss Bennet, if I am overly forthright,” said Lord Netherby, “but I find my friend Darcy's behaviour provoking. Whatever the offence for which he means to punish you by excluding you from his ball, I must say that you got off lightly; it is nothing in comparison to the punishment which he has apportioned to himself!”

“You are mistaken, sir, with regard to the reason why I did not receive an invitation.”

“Oh?”

“Since my arrival here at Willowbank, Mr. Darcy has scrupulously excluded me from his company. When Mr. Bingley and my sister are invited to dine, I do not accompany them to Pemberley. Mr. Darcy and his sister do not dine at Willowbank, and neither does he come to shoot or fish with Mr. Bingley, nor allow his sister to call upon me. Being the first family of the district, Darcy's lead is unquestioningly followed by the local society.”

“Good God!” exclaimed Lord Netherby, in outrage. “What reason has he given for such brutish behaviour?”

“To society at large, none that I know of. It is simply assumed that whatever the reasons of a man of Darcy's stature and reputation, they must be just and well-deserved. Doubtless the local gossip is teeming with salacious stories and speculations of my heinous wrongdoings; but my friends are kind enough to conceal them from me. To his sister and cousin, to whom some explanation was necessary, he has… cast aspersions upon my character.”

“Good heavens! How can they believe it? How could anyone who knows you believe it?”

“They do not believe it. Miss Darcy is naturally obliged to obey her brother's ruling, but Colonel Fitzwilliam comes here often, and frequently dines with us.”

“I am glad to hear it; he is a sensible and honourable man. But then so, too, is Darcy, or at least I have always thought him so – until now! Do you have any idea, Miss Bennet, why Mr. Darcy is behaving in so extraordinary a manner? Though I must now question his good sense, I cannot doubt his integrity; he would not give his sister and cousin reason to believe something that he did not, himself, believe to be unquestionably the truth. But how did he come to believe it?”

“I do not know exactly what slander Mr. Darcy has heard concerning me. I only know that he has been imposed upon by those who would seek to mislead him and to blacken my name,” said Elizabeth harshly.

“How completely awful this must be for you, my dear Miss Bennet. Please believe me when I say that I do not for a single moment give the slightest credence to these lies – regardless of what Darcy may believe.”

“Thank you, sir, I am most grateful,” said Elizabeth.

“Do you know the identity of the perpetrators of this falsehood? Is there any way to expose them?”

“I believe I know the individuals involved in the deception. Though to be perfectly truthful, I can only claim to know for certain that the people in question are engaged in some kind of slippery, clandestine dealings. I have reason, but not proof, to suppose that the purpose of those dealings is to deceive Mr. Darcy regarding my character. I know not the specifics of their lies.”

“But if Darcy were to hear all this, is it not possible that he would be persuaded?”

Elizabeth sighed. “I think not. He has hated me unflinchingly for so long that I doubt very much I would receive a fair hearing – in the unlikely event that he would even agree to listen.”

“Perhaps if you told me everything, I could represent your case to Darcy. He would, I believe, at least listen to me,” said Lord Netherby.

“I cannot agree, sir,” replied Elizabeth, shaking her head sadly. “His heart is closed to me; it is as if I no longer exist. He enforces a strict taboo at Pemberley – my name may not be mentioned. I think he would refuse to hear you. I thank you for your kindness and generosity, sir, in wishing to be of assistance, but I have other reasons for not wishing to accept your kind offer. My information comes from an acquaintance who obtained it by underhanded means. As a matter of honour, I should have refused even to hear it in the first instance. The method by which it was obtained prevents me from disclosing it to others. Furthermore, not only am I ignorant of the lies which have been communicated to Mr. Darcy regarding my character, but I cannot be absolutely certain that the intrigue witnessed by my acquaintance is, in fact, related to the communication of those lies – although given the identity of those involved, I think it highly probable.”

“You mean, I suppose,” surmised Lord Netherby, looking directly at Elizabeth, “that the actors in this intrigue might have something to gain from Darcy thinking ill of you?”

Elizabeth nodded, almost imperceptibly, and then immediately quickened her pace to rejoin the others, ending their conversation.

***

“May I have a private word with you, Darcy?” requested Lord Netherby upon finding the master of the house seated alone in the library.

“Certainly you may, Netherby; in fact, I was wishing to speak with you privately, myself.”

“About Miss Elizabeth Bennet, perchance?” asked Lord Netherby, seating himself in a comfortable wing chair facing Darcy.

“Yes,” said Darcy, gravely. “I wish you to know – and to communicate it to Miss Netherby – that I am in receipt of information regarding Miss Bennet's character, in consequence of which I refuse to admit her into my society. I will not receive her at Pemberley. Consequently, she will not be at the ball this evening.”

“Yes, I know. Miss Bennet informed me of it herself.”

“You have been to Willowbank? You have spoken with her?”

“Yes, Victoria and I drove over and spent a delightful morning there. Mrs. Bingley invited us to dine there on Saturday, and we were pleased to accept the invitation.”

Darcy's expression became severe. “I will not visit Willowbank or allow my sister to call there. I will not permit her to go into the society of… that woman.”

“Darcy, I am not going to ask you to provide me with the proof upon which is founded your opinion of Miss Bennet, because, quite frankly, I do not care to sully myself with slander.”

“I would not reveal it to you. I have not divulged it to a single soul. I have attempted to avoid disclosing even the fact of her loss of character, except to my guests at Pemberley, to whom I feel some explanation is required. My general acquaintances know only that I have excluded her from my society.”

“And thus, is she ostracised from all good society in the district; and in the absence of the particulars of the offences you believe her to have committed, people imagine and invent every manner of immoral deed. How can you treat the woman you once loved with such cruelty, Darcy? I could not have imagined it of you.”

Darcy's face reddened. His friend's words cut deeply. He had not considered how his actions must affect Miss Bennet, because he struggled constantly to prevent his thoughts from dwelling upon her. Though he did not wish to discuss her, his curiosity got the better of him. “From whom did you hear the fanciful notion that I once loved her?”

“Why, from you, Darcy! Do you remember nothing of a somewhat drunken conversation at our club last summer? You were just up from Pemberley to take care of some urgent business.”

“Last summer? Oh yes, I do remember meeting you at the club – and quite probably drinking too much – most out of character for me, but I am deuced if I can recollect anything concerning what we might have spoken of.”

“True love, female beauty, and the most exquisite pair of eyes – all of which, as I recall, you found residing in one particular lady from Hertfordshire, by the name of Elizabeth Bennet,” said Lord Netherby provocatively.

Darcy rose abruptly from his chair and walked away from his companion. “If I was so inebriated as to not remember our conversation, then you, too, must have been inebriated – enough, perhaps, to have imagined it all.”

Then turning back towards Lord Netherby, he said, “I kindly request you and your sister to observe the conventions of the house while you are my guests. The name of that woman is not to be mentioned under this roof. You are, of course, completely free to visit or dine wherever, and with whomever, you please. I have done my duty as a gentleman in warning you of Miss – err – Mrs. Bingley's sister's character. I would be much obliged if you could communicate the information to Miss Netherby.”

Darcy determined to end the conversation by leaving the library. But before he could reach the door, Lord Netherby rose from his chair, and walking quickly after him, he said, “Did it never occur to you, Darcy, that you might have been deliberately misinformed concerning Miss Bennet?”

Darcy stopped and turned. “I cannot imagine why anyone would wish to mislead me. It is entirely inconceivable.”

“Really? Can you think of not a single acquaintance who might stand to benefit from her loss of character in your eyes?” asked Lord Netherby, who was now standing face-to-face with Darcy.

Darcy's eyes momentarily widened, as if in recognition, and his face reddened. He took a deep breath, and setting his face in a mask of offended dignity, he said, “There is no one of my acquaintance who would behave in so low and immoral a manner; of that I am quite certain. I have absolute confidence that the report concerning Mrs. Bingley's sister is, most regrettably, entirely accurate.”

“And I will continue to believe her to be utterly innocent of these scurrilous lies and think of her – perhaps, in much the same way as you once thought of her, Darcy – before you fell victim to this evil deception.”

Darcy's face reddened. Netherby's words had created a doubt which threatened the integrity of the entire edifice of denial he had constructed to block out Elizabeth Bennet. The allusion to the way he had once thought of her stirred up unwanted memories and emotions that he had struggled hard to bury. He must not allow himself to compare that passion and fervour with his feeble feelings for the woman to whom he was now engaged.

Darcy turned again to leave the library and terminate the painful conversation. “Believe what you like, Netherby! If you choose to associate yourself with her, you are a damned fool!”

“One of us is most certainly a fool,” said Lord Netherby, shaking his head in resignation as Darcy stormed from the library.