Free Darcy and Elizabeth What If? Collection 1 by Jennifer Lang

best looks. Her complexion was brightened by the knowledge that she would be seeing her beloved Mr Bingley at the ball. Her golden hair was arranged becomingly in a high bun with ribbon threaded through it and her long white evening gown accentuated her slender, willowy figure.
    Their mother’s peevish tones came to them through the door.
    ‘Hill! Hill! I cannot find my fan! Where have you put it?’
    ‘Why, it is right here, Mrs Bennet,’ came Hill’s calm rejoinder.
    ‘What is it doing there?’ demanded Mrs Bennet. ‘Oh, my nerves! Lydia! Kitty! Stop chasing each other round the house, it is time to go!’
    There was some bustle and confusion as they all put on their cloaks and bonnets and outdoor shoes, but at last they were off.
    The night was dark, but the journey was not long, and as they approached Netherfield Park it looked like a fairyland. It was lit up with flambeaux outside the house, and inside a thousand candles sparkled in glittering chandeliers.
    There was already a crush. It seemed as if the whole neighbourhood had been invited, and as if even more guests had been invited from neighbourhoods beyond the immediate surrounds, which indeed they had, for Mr Bingley was a sociable gentleman and he had made many friends in his short time at Netherfield.
    Kitty and Lydia ran off to join the officers. Mary went to sit at the side of the room with the chaperones. She had hoped to spend some time with their cousin, Mr Collins, who had been due to visit them, but Lady Catherine had needed him at the last minute and so he had put his visit off for a few weeks. Jane was quickly claimed by Mr Bingley, and Elizabeth wandered through the elegant hall, with its marble flooring and equally imposing marble columns. She made her way at last to the ballroom.
    She expected to see Mr Wickham at any minute, but he was nowhere to be found. She began to become anxious. She had prepared herself for seeing him, and had steeled herself for anything, and her nerves were strung up, especially after witnessing the wrestling match between him and Mr Darcy. She felt that she was at fever pitch.
    At last she saw Captain Denny, who asked her to dance. She accepted his hand, glad of a chance to find out what had become of Mr Wickham. To begin with, she talked of the weather and other such commonplaces so that her questions should not seem too pointed, then she said casually, ‘How many were in your party? I hope there was not too much of a crush in the carriage.’
    ‘No, no crush, we came on horseback. With ten of us there was no other choice. We were to have been eleven, but Wickham cried off at the last moment.’
    ‘Oh?’ asked Elizabeth, trying not to sound too disappointed. ‘He is not ill, I hope?’
    ‘No, no, nothing like that. At least, something like that but not quite. He was thrown from his horse and landed in the river. He has hurt his leg and riding would have been difficult for him. Dancing would have been impossible. So he sent his apologies to the Bingleys and he is spending the evening at home, with his feet up, to give his leg a chance to heal.’
    Elizabeth nodded. The sparkle had gone out of her eyes, but she hoped that Denny would not notice.
    The dance came to an end. Elizabeth felt on edge. She would be on tenterhooks all evening, for she could not now solve the mystery of the fight between Mr Wickham and Mr Darcy, and she could not find out what Mr Wickham was meant to be telling her.
    Unless . . . There was one other man in the room who knew, and he was walking towards her with a purposeful air.
    She could not but help acknowledge that he was very handsome. His dark hair showed up very well against his white shirt and black coat. His pantaloons were pulled tight across his muscular thighs, and many of the women turned to look at him as he walked past.
    ‘Miss Elizabeth,’ he said, bowing before her. ‘May I have the pleasure of this dance?’
    She saw a slight apprehension in his eyes and she knew he was