She smiled and turned her attention back to the portrait of a young woman that she had been studying. “Here I am,” she said. Was it his imagination, or did she sound somewhat breathless?
How he wished he could take her hand as he stepped up beside her.
“Are you enjoying yourself?”
“I am,” she said. “And you?”
“I am now,” he said.
He knew she understood his meaning, for her cheeks instantly flamed a bright pink. It only made her look more beautiful. He took a deep breath. “Would you do me the honour of the opening the first dance with me, Miss Bennet?”
Her face brightened with a vibrant smile. “You are going to open the dancing? I thought it would be a punishment to stand up with most women.”
Darcy inwardly cringed at the memory of his ungentlemanly behaviour. “Yes, well, I should never have said that.” He looked at her, his eyes drinking in every bit of her. “Besides, you are not most women, Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
She sucked in a breath, then turned her attention to the painting, seeming to avoid his eyes. Her chest heaved with each breath. When she did not respond to his request, Darcy took up all his courage and pressed on. “I would be truly delighted if you would dance with me,” he whispered. He moved closer, almost touching her hand with his. It was as though some strange electricity was passing between them, until the air was alive with it. “Please.”
She looked up at him then, finally meeting his eyes. Darcy felt his heart skip a beat as a small smile appeared on her face. “Very well, then. Yes, I would be delighted.”
Darcy offered her his hand then, and she placed her delicate gloved hand in his. Tucking it into the crook of his arm, he led her back to the grand salon. They were the subject of many curious glances, and even a few whispered comments. Hedid not mind. The few whispers he overheard seemed kind, and if things went as planned, he would be glad to shout the night’s events from the rooftops.
It was time. Darcy led Elizabeth out to the dance floor. With a nod to the musicians he had hired for the event, he signalled they ought to begin.
Never before had it occurred to Darcy that a formal dance ought to have more opportunity for conversation. Each time the steps separated him from Elizabeth, he counted the moments until he might rejoin her. It was fortunate, perhaps, that each separation offered him the chance to think of his other duties and glance about the room. Georgiana was dancing with Mr Lucas. The two were smiling and chatting like old friends. Bingley had indeed led out Miss Jane Bennet, and the two seemed all but lost in each other’s eyes.
Darcy could understand the feeling. Each step he took with Elizabeth seemed at once effortless and delightful, as though the music was so much a part of them that no thought was necessary. He felt he could have danced with her forever.
“You are a wonderful dancer, Miss Bennet.”
She blushed. “Thank you. As are you. For someone who dislikes dancing, you are very proficient.”
“I never said I disliked dancing.”
She laughed. “From the word “punishment” I only assumed. Forgive me,” she teased.
Darcy pressed his hand closer into the small of her back and they started a promenade down the line of dancers. She looked up at him, her heartbeat throbbing in her slender throat.His own heart seemed to match hers. “As I said before, you are not most women.”
The first dance seemed to disappear in an instant. They were both breathless by the time it ended, but he was not ready to give her up or let any other gentleman dance with her. As they walked off to the side, he pressed her hand and asked her for the next dance before anyone else had the chance to secure his place on her dance card.
∞∞∞
Elizabeth drew in a quick breath. To dance once with a lady meant nothing more than politeness. To ask for a second dance, especially one right after the other, was no subtle declaration of interest. She searched his eyes. “You are sure? Are there not other guests who would be glad of your attention?” she whispered. Elizabeth looked around the room at the score of young ladies who would have fallen over themselves at the chance to dance with the handsome Mr Darcy.
“I have never been more sure of anything, Miss Bennet.”
She hesitated for only a moment before she answered, “Yes, I will.”
The second dance was of a slower tempo. There was a great deal of weaving and turning about with other couples, but Mr Darcy never seemed to look away from her. Each time Elizabeth dared to look up, she met his eyes.
“This is a wonderful party, Mr Darcy. I do not believe Meryton has ever seen its equal.”
“You must repeat the compliment to Georgiana when next you happen to speak. I cannot take the credit, for it was nearly all her doing. I think it has helped her to forget some of the recent heartache she has been through.”
Elizabeth nodded. It was a delicate way of describing the situation with Mr Wickham. “Have you heard from the garrison commander of what is to be done about a certain gentleman?” she asked.
Mr Darcy tensed ever so slightly, and for a moment she was sorry she had brought Mr Wickham to mind. However, he relaxed as he placed a hand on her waist and they turned; her gloved hand resting against his cheek. He leaned close to her, and her breath caught in her throat. Was he not somewhat nearer than was strictly required for discretion?
“He has utterly disappeared, along with Mrs Younge. I believe they have sought refuge abroad, where no one knows them.”
