Mr. Darcy stepped back immediately, taking his warmth with him.
“Miss Elizabeth.” He bowed. “I hope you continue to find your correspondence…intriguing.”
Then he was gone, moving back into the crowd, leaving her standing there with her heart still racing and her mind full of questions she could not answer.
She endeavored to regain her composure.
Charlotte appeared at her elbow. “What on earth was that about?”
“Nothing.” The lie came automatically. “He was merely…making conversation.”
“Lizzy.” Charlotte’s expression was knowing. “He was standing close enough to propose marriage, and you were looking at him as if?—”
“I wasnotlooking at him in a particular way.”
“If you say so.” Her friend’s smile suggested she did not believe Elizabeth for a moment.
Neither, Elizabeth suspected, did she. “Pardon me, good friend. I need to temper Lydia’s enthusiasm for dancing.”
Charlotte grimaced, “You can try.”
Darcy neededBingley’s company to settle his racing thoughts. The way she looked at him when he mentioned the drawing, curiosity and hesitancy warring in her fine eyes, well…
“Darcy!” Bingley grinned. “I see you are present in form, but I have been speaking to you for a full minute, and you have yet to acknowledge me.”
“I beg your pardon.” Chagrined at having been caught out, he inclined his ear to his friend.
Before Bingley replied, his sister interrupted without ceremony.
When Miss Bingley tried to brush Darcy’s arm with her fan, he stepped back.
“How unusual, Mr. Darcy, for you to allow Miss Eliza to monopolize your attention for so long. I am quite astonished.”
Darcy’s jaw tightened at the diminutive name, the faint sneer in her tone, and her predatory interest.
“I cannot imagine why this astonishes you, Miss Bingley. You have seen me speak with others before.”
Her smile was brittle. “Though I cannot imagine what you found to discuss with such a provincial for a full quarter hour. Come, I can guess what you are thinking. Shall I tell you?”
“If you must,” he replied.
“Without doubt, you were considering how desperately you wish to be away from this tedious company and return to town where the individuals are more refined.”
“You are mistaken, Miss Bingley.” The words came out more forcefully than intended. “I have been meditating on the pleasure a pair of very fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.”
Her face lit as if a thousand candles surrounded her. “Indeed? You are quite the poet. Whose eyes inspired you, good sir?” She fluttered her lashes. “Never Miss Eliza Bennet, surely, no matter how she puts herself forward. Did you not find her barely tolerable?”
Darcy’s voice dropped to a lethal tone that made Miss Bingley freeze. “I will thank you to speak of Miss Elizabeth Bennet with respect. I inadvertently wounded her with a thoughtless remark at the assembly. I would do nothing, nor allow anyone in my presence to do anything that might continue to pain her.”
“Oh,” Miss Bingley gaped, uncertainty replacing her smugness. “I see. How gallant of you, Mr. Darcy, to concernyourself so deeply with the feelings of someone so far beneath us in consequence.”
“Is she beneath us?” He allowed a bit of steel into his question. “She is a gentleman’s daughter. I am a gentleman. In this, we are equal. Thus, who is below whom?”
Snapping her fan closed, Miss Bingley sniffed, her eyes anywhere but on him. “I am sure I do not know what you mean.”
Darcy said, “I am certain you do not.”
She moved away from him, her rigid posture broadcasting her offense. Darcy had no remorse. If his defense of Miss Elizabeth cost him Caroline Bingley’s good opinion, it was a price he would gladly pay.
