“Did you just agree to dance with Mr Darcy? I thought you could not stand the man,” her aunt said, lowering her voice.
“You were mistaken, aunt. I have the highest respect for Mr Darcy.” She watched him weave through the crowd, then stop when he came to a tall man. To judge by the military strictness of his posture and the familiarity of Mr Darcy’s address, Elizabeth rather suspected it was Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“He was very kind to come and ask you for the first dance. That is quite the honour,” her aunt went on.
Elizabeth could hardly breathe, still less contain her excitement. “Yes, he is.” It was a wonder, and yet was it not still more evidence of Mr Darcy’s character and his understanding of her? She would never have dared to ask him for another chance, but he seemed to be offering it to her without the asking. Only now did Elizabeth admit to herself that she had always been strangely drawn to him, even when there had been a multitude of misunderstandings between them.
When he finished speaking to his cousin and wove his way back through the crowd toward her and her aunt, she marvelled again at his attentiveness. There was fully a quarter hour before the first dance was to begin, and yet he was returning to her with all alacrity.
“How are you, Mrs Gardiner? I hope Harriet is well?”
“My Harriet? Why, yes,” her aunt replied, shooting a questioning glance at Elizabeth.
“Miss Harriet was kind enough to come to my rescue when I last visited Miss Bennet. I am afraid I had come unprepared, and Miss Harriet gave me a charming daisy to give to Miss Bennet during my call. She is a sweet child, to be sure,” he said with a broad smile.
Warmth filled Elizabeth at the remembrance. He had been so good with little Harriet, and it had touched her heart to stand at the end of the corridor and listen to their exchange. She was unsure if any other man of her acquaintance would have treated her little cousin with such kindness and patience. He had had such a care for her childish dignity.
“She is a sweet child. But a little naughty when it comes to her naps. She causes my nanny no end of trouble in getting her to sleep.” Mrs Gardiner rolled her eyes heavenward, but Elizabeth could tell she was flattered by Mr Darcy’s attentiveness.
He then turned to Elizabeth. “Are you well, Miss Bennet?” he asked.
“Yes, quite,” she replied breathlessly.
I am well now that you are here.But of course, such openness was impossible.
When it came time for the dancing to begin, Mr Darcy offered her his arm and they walked out onto the dance floor. As the music started and they went through the first few movements, she felt hope stirring in her chest.
Yet he was very silent. Elizabeth hardly knew how to interpret it. He might have simply asked her to dance as a gesture of friendship, or to illustrate that he bore no grudge. He might very well have meant nothing more by it.
Yet his gaze never left hers, and she thought she saw admiration in his eyes.
“I hear that you and Colonel Fitzwilliam went for a walk in Hyde Park. Are you very fond of the walks there?”
“No, I had not been there before the Colonel took me. It was good of him to remember how fond I am of walking.” There,perhaps, was another explanation for Mr Darcy’s behaviour — if his own regard for her was all done away, might he even intend to promote his cousin’s suit? “I must confess, I miss my country walks.”
“Indeed,” was his only reply.
They sank into an awkward silence, broken only by a few stiff, formal remarks. Elizabeth was half bewildered at herself, but she could not seem to think of what to say. She might have been far more charming, she thought with private dismay, if she could have only felt less. And as for Mr Darcy — how was his silence to be explained? He did not seem to regret dancing with her. Of that much, Elizabeth was confident. But as to whether his quietness indicated feelings as deep as her own or the utter lack of them, she was entirely at a loss.
After their dance, Mr Darcy took her back to her aunt and uncle and thanked her for the dance. He did not leave them immediately. “Thank you for allowing me the honour, Miss Bennet,” he said.
While he was speaking, a gentleman in a wolf mask approached them. Both the exquisite tailoring of his uniform and the set of his shoulders revealed him to be Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“I see you have beat me to the first dance,” he said wryly.
If Elizabeth had not guessed his identity from what she could see of his appearance, she would have known it was the colonel at once from his sense of humour. “Yes, it was very kind of you to ask, Mr Darcy,” she said.
“Not at all. It was my pleasure,” Mr Darcy said. But despite his courteous words, his voice was entirely too neutral to interpret.
“May I have the next dance?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked. She could not see his smile through the mask, but she could hear it. It was like him to so kindly claim the dance, even after her rejection. He was a gentleman indeed. Elizabeth could be grateful for that, even if there was only one man with whom she truly wished to dance.
“I would be delighted, Colonel,” she replied with a weak smile.
After a moment, the Colonel turned to leave, saying he would come to claim his dance after he had spoken with a few of his friends he’d seen near the punch table. Abruptly, Mr Darcy made his excuses and left as well.
Elizabeth’s heart turned over. Had he mistaken her friendship with the colonel for something more? She would have liked to explain, but any explanation would have been far beyond the bounds of discretion.
“My dear, are you quite well? You look a bit peaked.”Mrs Gardiner looked at her with concern, and Elizabeth vowed to mask her feelings with more care.
