“I am mortified beyond expression,” he managed. “If there is any way I might make amends, please do tell me.”
“Actually, there is.” Lady Elizabeth’s smile turned positively wicked. “We are dreadfully short of gentlemen tonight. There are a number of ladies who need partners for dancing. Would you avail yourself to them? Miss Lucas is in need, I can see. As is Miss King.”
Darcy’s mortification had reached such heights that rational thought abandoned him entirely. “I… that is… I’m afraid I don’t dance well,” he stammered. “If you’ll excuse me.”
He fled towards the doors leading to the garden, leaving behind a tableau of shocked faces and Lady Elizabeth’s musical laughter ringing in his ears.
The cool night air struck his burning cheeks as he stepped outside, but it did little to calm his racing heart. How could he have been so blind? So presumptuous? Lady Elizabeth Bennet—daughter of an earl, a lady of refinement and education—and he had treated her like an errant servant girl.
“Darcy? Whatever’s the matter?”
He turned to find Bingley approaching, his face creased with concern.
“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost,” Bingley continued. “Was someone unkind to you in there? I know some of the local families can be rather particular about social distinctions.”
Darcy ran a hand through his hair, destroying what remained of his careful grooming. “I have committed the most appalling social blunder imaginable.”
“Surely it cannot be that bad.”
“I mistook Lord Hartford’s daughter for a maid and proceeded to lecture her on proper manners,” Darcy confessed in a rush. “Then, feeling magnanimous, I gave her a jar of jam as compensation for my stern treatment. A jar of jam, Bingley! As if she were in need of charity!”
Bingley’s face went through several expressions before settling on barely suppressed mirth. “Good Lord. Which daughter?”
“Lady Elizabeth.”
“Ah.” Bingley’s composure cracked entirely, and he dissolved into hearty laughter. “Oh, my dear fellow, you couldn’t have chosen a worse target for such treatment. Lady Elizabethhas the sharpest wit in three counties. She’ll dine out on this story for months.”
“This is not amusing,” Darcy protested, though Bingley’s laughter was proving somewhat infectious despite his mortification.
“On the contrary, it’s hilarious. Though I can see why you’re distressed.” Bingley composed himself with visible effort. “Still, Lord Hartford is a good man. He won’t hold an honest mistake against you, particularly when it provides such entertainment for his family.”
They stood in companionable silence for a moment, watching the lights from the assembly room spill across the garden. Other couples had ventured outside for air, their conversations creating a pleasant murmur in the darkness.
“Speaking of Lord Hartford,” Darcy said, grateful for the change of subject, “he mentioned you’re considering purchasing Longbourn?”
“I am indeed. Though I confess I have some questions about the property that I’d like to discuss with someone knowledgeable. Percival was going to instruct me, but as you know, he is only available in a limited capacity.” Bingley’s expression grew more serious. “I gather Hartford is somewhat anxious about my intentions?”
“He may be concerned about the uncertainty,” Darcy replied diplomatically.
“Entirely understandable. Perhaps you might join me for tea tomorrow? I could use your expertise on several estate matters, and it would demonstrate to Hartford that I’m approaching this decision seriously.”
“I should be happy to assist,” Darcy agreed, pleased to find some way to be useful after the evening’s disasters.
“Excellent. Shall we say three o’clock?”
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Lady Jane appeared on the terrace, accompanied by Charlotte Lucas, both seeking relief from the warmth of the crowded assembly room.
“Lady Jane,” Bingley said. “How lovely to see you again.”
Lady Jane’s answering smile was gentle but unmistakably pleased. “Mr Bingley. Are you enjoying the assembly?”
“Immensely, though I confess the evening air is rather refreshing after the heat indoors.”
As Bingley and Lady Jane fell into easy conversation, Darcy studied their interaction with new eyes. The mutual attraction was obvious, and he could see why Lord Hartford was torn. Bingley was clearly smitten, his whole demeanour brightening in Lady Jane’s presence. And whilst Lady Jane’s reserved nature made it difficult to gauge the depth of her feelings, there was no mistaking the soft pleasure in her expression when she looked at him.
Perhaps if Bingley could be persuaded to make a firm commitment to purchasing Longbourn, Hartford might indeed be able to convince his wife that five thousand a year could compensate for the lack of a title.
A movement near the doorway caught his attention, and Darcy’s heart stuttered as Lady Elizabeth stepped onto the terrace. She had exchanged her earlier amusement for a more contemplative expression, though her eyes still held traces of mirth when they met his.
