Duty and Desire chapter 10: The Ball

I do not own Twilight or Pride and Prejudice.



November 27, 1812

The days leading up to the ball had been tense as tempers were running short. So much was riding on this event; Emmett’s place in Hertfordshire society was assured, however, his reputation in London hinged on the outcome of this ball. If all went well, it would open many doors for him. Emmett had money and a new estate, but he had yet to host a large event. He would be judged and scrutinized based on how well this ball was received.

Shallow? Yes, but such is the life we lead.

All the preparations were completed and Netherfield had never looked so impressive. It was not without sacrifices, and the tension had been thick. Emmett was able to finally reason with the Harpy. I am not sure what he had threatened her with, but it had worked. The servants had been given the space they needed to complete their tasks, without the fear of retribution from the “Dragon lady,” as I am told she was called.

I’ll have to remember that one for later.

I had managed to put James from my mind; I knew he would not have the courage to show his face at the ball. I assumed he’d made up some falsehood to explain the cut on his neck; he was too much of a coward to face me again. I did not find it likely he would try anything at present. I hoped the reminder left on his neck was enough to give him a lasting impression, and that he would leave Isabella alone. It was true what he had said; although I would not wish him on any other female in Meryton, I only thought of Isabella.

It seemed my actions, and body for that matter, behaved of its own volition when it came to her. I had no hand in it. It had been a fortnight since our unexpected meeting in the woods. I had hoped that the distance between us after she’d left Netherfield would put a stop to my dreams, which occurred nightly now. But since my encounter with her in Meryton, it seemed they had managed to increase in intensity. I dreamt of her at Pemberley, picturing her at the top of the staircase, eyes gleaming as she tempted me to chase her. This only enhanced my longing for her.

I planned on observing her this evening; my only other opportunity to see her interact in a social setting had been at the assembly, and I need not remind myself what an utter failure that had been.

A failure of my own making, no less.

I intended to be a gentleman and leave her with a better opinion of me.

Guests began arriving; and I was relived that it was not my house, as I did not have the unfortunate task of standing in the receiving line. Emmett was bearing it well; he was kind and jovial with all his guests. Completely opposite, in both physical location and temperament, was the Harpy. She was in rare form this evening. Her manners were polite, but under that exterior she was cold as ice. Her gown, no doubt the latest fashion, was the most putrid color of yellow. She could likely be spotted a mile away through a dense fog. Her expression was a mixture between a grimace and outright hostility. No doubt she was displeased by having to spend time with the “undeserving nobodies,” as she called them. I also suspected she was angry at not being the center of attention. Did she not realize people gravitated to Emmett because he was friendly? Probably not. She did not understand the meaning of friendly. I had been successful in ignoring her, and it had caused my moods to lighten considerably as of late.

I wandered through the crowds, hoping to catch a glimpse of Isabella, but it was all in vain. Perhaps she was not coming? My heart sank at that thought. No, she would come; her family would expect her to be here. I meandered back to my hidden vantage point, watching the people trickle into the main foyer. Suddenly, a small man pushed his way through the door to the front of the line. As he passed Emmett he paused, bowed quickly, and moved away. It was the most ungentlemanly behavior.

As he came closer I recognized him as the man with Isabella. Her cousin. I could not forget a person with such ridiculous hair, and tonight it seems he took extra care in making it as big as possible. I was certain it was to make up for his obvious lack of height as it made him a full four inches taller. I noticed his clothing was the same, with the addition of a flower in his lapel. It made for quite a sight. It was much too big and hung limply against his jacket.

He was looking frantically around the room, as if searching for someone. I laughed to myself; he really was ridiculous. Turning my attention away from the small man, I focused back on the front just in time.

Isabella and her sister were speaking with Emmett. I could only see her from the back; the rest of the family fell in behind them. As Miss Swan moved to enter the ball room, Isabella turned to take her arm.

I was rendered utterly speechless.

She was breathtaking; her delicate figure gently encased in a white gown that flowed from her body. I noticed the bodice was trimmed with satin, and the combination of the color and fabric in contrast with her skin was luminescent. My eyes travelled up to her face; her hair was swept up on her head, the curls pinned with tiny delicate pearls. My eyes again moved down to her bodice, it was then I noticed the necklace she wore. A teardrop pearl hung delicately from a silver chain, resting precariously close to the swell of her breast.

My body reacted immediately to the vision of this goddess in white. I was beginning to sweat. I tugged at my neck cloth, which suddenly felt uncomfortably tight, not to mention my trousers…

This train of thought was not helping my resolve.

I needed to breathe some fresh air to get control over myself. I was grateful that I wore black trousers, as they hid my all too obvious state of mind. Making my way through the crowds, I felt claustrophobic; everything was closing in around me. I all but ran to the library, where I took several deep breaths, trying to calm myself. After a few moments, I felt relatively calm. The tightness in my neck had abated and I could finally breathe again. It took moments longer to calm my ardor, however, which seemed to be out of control since I had arrived in Hertfordshire.

Once I was calm I began pacing.

This was, more than likely, the last time I would see Isabella. I planned on departing for London the day after tomorrow. The yearning to talk to her, to touch her, was palpable but how could I accomplish this without upsetting her, as I did frequently.

I stopped pacing. This was a ball, and had I not already resolved to dance with her?

Yes, that was perfect. I could be close to her, touch her, yet keep her at a safe enough distance. I was resolved; I would find Isabella and ask her to dance.

I exited the library and went in search of Isabella before I lost my nerve. The orchestra began to play, signaling the beginning of the dancing. This would make moving through the crowd much easier. As a tall man I had the advantage of being able to spot people easily in a crowd. I scanned the edges looking for Isabella, but she was nowhere to be found. I looked to the dance floor, starting at the top of the line of couples. I spotted Isabella in the middle of the row of couples. My eyes moved to the place directly across from her, however, I was unable to see her partner. Surely she would not be dancing unaccompanied? Yet the space for her partner was clearly vacant. I strode closer, weaving my way through the crowd, watching the dancing to gain a better view of her.

Isabella stepped forward into the middle as did her partner, who was none other than her cousin, Mr. Newton. It was no wonder I could not spot him, for he was a full head shorter than her. He bowed absurdly low, his eyes never leaving her. The look on his face was that of an adoring puppy in need of affection. Isabella looked increasingly uncomfortable as the dance went on. Mr. Newton, it seemed, was not very adept at the art of dancing, stepping on her toes several times and turning in the wrong direction, bumping into the lady at his left and almost knocking her to the ground.

If it had been another place and time, I would not have been able to control my laugher. For this was easily the most ridiculous spectacle I had ever witnessed.

My humorous thoughts were stopped short by the look on Isabella’s face, however. Her cheeks burned red with embarrassment and I could see her eyes glistening. I instantly felt ashamed for finding amusement at her expense. I was angry, and it took all I had to stand my ground and not go throttle the man. He was being a pompous, arrogant man to not admit he could not dance, thus embarrassing Isabella for the sake of his own foolish pride.

The dance ended and Isabella escaped as quickly as she could, unknowingly moving in my direction. I felt an overwhelming urge to erase the sad look on her beautiful face. It was painfully burned into my mind.

She approached, clearly agitated, and I resolved that this was my chance. I stepped into her path and she stopped, looking up to see who had stopped her progress. When her eyes met mine, I almost reached up to cup her face in my hands; those beautiful eyes filled with tears. I quickly dropped my hands to my side before doing anything improper.

In the middle of a ball, no less! I mentally chastised myself.

“Miss Isabella, may I have the honor of the next dance?”

She looked down and hesitated before answering.

“You may.” It seemed she was reluctant to dance again, and it was no wonder, considering what she had just gone through.

She curtsied quickly and walked away, no doubt to compose herself after her horrible encounter with Mr. Newton.

~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~

After a brief intermission the orchestra readied for the next dance. I went to Isabella, who took my arm as I escorted her to the dance floor.

The music began and I stepped towards her, looking directly into her eyes. I took her hands and reveled in the feeling that always seemed to occur every time we touched. My eyes swept across her beautiful face and I looked again in her eyes, hoping to see that same glimmer I so often saw. The glimmer was there but also something more. I was not able to decipher what it was; they seemed hard, perhaps even angry.

No doubt she was still upset about earlier; hopefully this dance will show her how a real gentleman treats a lady.

“I love this dance,” she remarked.

“Yes indeed, it is most stimulating.” My tone was neutral, which surprised even myself. It was taking everything I had to contain the torrent of emotions I felt.

“I believe it is your turn to say something, Mr. Masen. I remarked on the dance; you ought to remark on the size of the room or the number of couples.”

She wanted to talk? Now? I had tried to get her to speak to me since our first encounter. I could not help but be intrigued by what brought this on.

“I would be happy to oblige; please inform me on what you would most like to hear.”

She smirked and replied.

“Well, we can’t have you uncomfortable now, can we?” She was being cheeky with me.

“I may observe that private balls are much more pleasant than public ones.”

We continued dancing, the tension building with every step. I could think of nothing to say that would not be disastrous for my control. So I took the coward’s way out and remained silent.

After a long pause, Isabella spoke again.

“And now we may remain silent.”

I was puzzled; she seemed determined to have this conversation now.

“Do you talk as a rule while dancing?”

“No, I prefer to be unsociable and taciturn.” Another pause as we looped around the other couples. “It makes it all so much more enjoyable, don’t you think?”

Ah, she was goading me! There was the Isabella I loved. Loved? Damn, I needed to focus before I said something foolish.

Well, if she wanted to talk, then I would join her little game.

“Tell me, do you and your sisters often walk into Meryton?” I asked her cautiously.

“Yes,” she replied simply. “It is a great way to meet new people, don’t you think?”

My gut told me this was heading in a direction I would not like. Yet I had foolishly asked her and my pride wanted to know if Wickham had spoken to her.

“In fact, after you and Mr. McCarty left we made a new acquaintance. A Mr. Wickham.”

I groaned inwardly. I was already too late, he had no doubt poisoned her mind with the same viscous lies he told anyone who would listen.

“Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners that making new acquaintances is relatively easy for him. Whether or not he is able to keep them is another matter entirely.” My tone was cold.

“He seems to be so unfortunate as to have lost your friendship.” Isabella was becoming more defensive.

This was worse than hell; my angel was defending that bastard.

Lord knows what he had told her. Suddenly, I wished the blade had gone in deeper.

“And given your statement a month ago, that is an irreversible decision is it not?”

I was so angry I could no longer think straight.

“It is,” I replied tersely, “What is the purpose of these questions?” I demanded.

“I am trying to make out your character Mr. Masen.” She was so close to my face, her eyes ablaze, I wanted to close the gap and kiss her lips.

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow in retaliation, “and what have you discovered?”

“Very little, I’m afraid,” she responded, still looking directly into my eyes, “I hear such different accounts of you as to puzzle me exceedingly.”

No! I could only imagine the infamy of the lies Wickham had spewed to turn her against me. The only question was why she would believe the words of a stranger?

“I hope to afford you more clarity in the future.” My tone left little doubt that the subject was now closed. I pushed Wickham from my mind, determined to enjoy the precious little time I had left with Isabella. Though her expression was hard, her eyes had a confused look, as if she too had a storm of emotions raging inside her.

Perhaps she could feel the same unexplained pull I felt.

The dance continued and we were silent; it was as if there was no one left in the room. Every touch, every look, was a mixture of longing and pain. We spun in a circle, our eyes never leaving each other. I reached for her hand one last time, silently wishing away the gloves that were a barrier to her soft skin. I took one last breath, her scent filling my head. I released her hand as the music stopped. We bowed to one another and she walked away.

I watched her retreating figure, desperately wishing for her to turn around and run back to my now empty arms. However, I could not shake the feeling of dread that came over me as she walked away. The sensation told me she was walking away for good.

~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~I~

I joined Emmett and Miss Swan. They were happily discussing the ball; she was very enthusiastic about how many people had attended and the fact it had gone well. Yet, I was still nervous that she did not seem to be showing any more signs of affection toward Emmett. It was obvious he was madly in love with her. Any fool could see it in his expressions.

“Are you enjoying the Ball, Miss Swan?” I asked.

She looked at me, a bit shocked that I had addressed her.

“Why yes Sir, thank you. And you?”

“Yes, I believe it has gone rather well.”

She turned her attention back to Emmett. She was polite and modest, yet I couldn’t make her out.

It was then I heard a faint cough behind me, followed by my name.

“Mr. Masen.” Ehm. “Mr. Masen.”

I turned and saw no one behind me, but as I looked down I noticed Mr. Newton.

“Mr. Masen, I know we have not been formally introduced, but I believe we have a common acquaintance, sir.”

Oh, really? This ought to be interesting.

“I am the rector at Huntsford and my esteemed patroness is Lady Irena Denali.”

Ah, so he was the old bats vicar, how interesting. I eyed him closer. Yes, he was a simpering pompous man; he would definitely fit the role my aunt required of all her rectors.

“I felt it incumbent upon me to introduce myself, and on behalf of Lady Irena, inform you that she and her daughter were both in excellent health when I left a few weeks past.”

What impudence!

“Well thank you, Mr. Newton, for thinking of my Aunt. I am sure she would be delighted to hear you took it upon yourself to breach propriety and introduce yourself to me at a ball for the sake of informing me of her health.”

His jaw dropped open and he started muttering to himself. I should have stopped, but I was enjoying this far too much. He deserved it after what he put Isabella through.

“In fact, I can write her directly and inform her of your kind words.”

He looked as if he was about to cry.

“No, that will not be necessary, Mr. Masen, I apologize for interrupting you. I must be going.”

He bowed and ran off as fast as his tiny legs could carry him.

I chuckled, turning back to Emmett who was now alone.

“Damn, Edward! I thought the little man was going to wet himself.”

I smiled. “Yes, well, I believe I am not losing my touch after all.”

Emmett laughed and shook his head, heading off to no doubt find Miss Swan.

As I was about to turn, I was stopped by an all too familiar voice.

“Edward, there you are! I have been looking everywhere for you,” she said in her dreadfully shrill voice.

“And what do you need, Tanya?” I replied impatiently.

“I saw you dancing with Miss Izabell. I thought you didn’t dance!” she screeched.

I ignored her, hoping she would give up and move on, but apparently she was single-minded in this regard.

“I was under the impression there were no ladies in Hertfordshire that could please you, Edward.”

“I find much to admire in Miss Isabella,” I smirked.

Let her make of that what she wishes.

“So am I to wish you joy? What a wonderful family you will inherit upon your marriage.”

The harpy’s face was a bright shade of purple at this point.

“A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I have no intention on discussing this further, good evening Tanya.”

I turned and walked away as fast as I could. It was amusing really, that she was jealous. Well, she never had a chance in hell, so let her think what she wanted. Perhaps she would finally leave me alone if she thought I was set upon another.

I meandered through the crowds looking for Isabella. I wanted to make sure she was well. She had seemed upset and I hoped I was not the cause. I passed through the first drawing room and walked behind a group of ladies, though stopped when I heard Mrs. Swans voice.

“Yes, that’s right, any day now. We fully expect a most advantageous marriage. Why I am willing to wager they will be engaged by the end of the week.”

I kept on walking, though her words had set me on edge. Of course she would expect it. And no doubt she was pushing her daughter as hard as she could to obtain it. I truly felt Miss Swan was a sweet girl and that she was indeed genuine. But despite everything, she did not show all the symptoms of being in love. I could only conclude it was the mother hoping and thus pushing her towards Emmett. I did not want my friend to suffer a marriage of indifference. It would break him.

I continued through to the next drawing room, where I was almost bowled over by the youngest Swan girls. Victoria and Angela were laughing and not paying any attention to where they were going. It was evident by the drinks in their hands that they were drunk. They were barely sixteen! Victoria ran up to one of the officers and smothered him in a hug.

It was indecent! Surely Mr. Swan could rein in his younger daughters!

I had yet to find Isabella and I was beginning to worry. The orchestra was on a break, therefore the rooms were filled with people. It was becoming harder to meander through the crowds of people. Not to mention, it was getting quite hot. I thought some cool air would help and I made my way toward the terrace, when I was stopped by the piano and a girl singing. It was not the playing that grabbed my attention, but the tone of her voice was off and it grated on my ears. I looked in the direction of the offending voice and saw it was Miss Bree. Mr. Swan stepped to the piano and asked her to give the other young ladies a turn. Thoroughly embarrassed, the poor girl ran away as fast as possible.

This evening was becoming more ridiculous by the second.

I welcomed the cool air, inhaling desperately as I stepped onto the terrace. Night had fallen and I looked up to see a full moon gracing the sky, the soft light falling upon the stone and illuminating everything with an ethereal glow. I was surprised by the calm that surrounded me; save for the soft hum of music emanating from the house it was completely silent.

Not a moment later I heard a soft sob coming from the far corner of the terrace. Realizing I was not alone, I stayed hidden in the shadows. I looked in the direction of the sound and saw that it was Isabella. She was leaning on the stone rail, her face lifted toward the sky, and no doubt admiring the heavens as I had moments before. The moonlight upon her skin and her white gown gave her a heavenly glow, she looked like an angel. The soft breeze caressed her face, soft strands of curls fluttering gently across her cheek. As I observed her closer I saw tears running down her cheeks.

Oh Isabella. I wept inside for her.

After everything I had witnessed tonight it was no wonder she was upset. She did not deserve these sorrows. I had done everything I could to shield her from the dangers of Wickham. I cursed fate and my position for shackling me to duties which I had no desire to be a part of anymore. If it were not for Alice and the people who depended on Pemberley I would gladly throw it all away for a chance to make Isabella mine.

At this moment, Isabella needed someone and I desperately wanted to be that someone.

I made an attempt to move out of the shadows when I froze. Think man! Think of Alice, and your parents.

I dropped back further into the shadows, my hands hanging helplessly at my sides while I listened to her sob.

I could not comfort her without exposing my true feelings.

Tonight’s events had been a harsh reminder of the differences between our worlds. The bridge between us would not be easy to forge. The impropriety of her family I had witnessed this evening was a strong reminder of my objections to her as a potential bride. It seemed that no matter how wonderful my dreams, the harshness of reality kept creeping back in.

It was like a cold bucket of water had been thrown in my face.

Isabella, no matter how beautiful or wonderful, simply came from an unsuitable family. The situation made me realize that upon my return to London, it was time I fulfilled my duty and found a wife.