We exchanged curtsies. Hers was carefully measured to be shallower than mine.
Miss Bingley nodded to Lizzy and Mr. Darcy on the far side of the room. “Our hosts. The tall one is Mr. Darcy. I fancy that I played some part in their marriage.” She laughed lightly. “They are married six months now. You cannot imagine what a relief that is.”
That was a peculiar comment. My enthusiasm for my new friend diminished.
When I did not reply, she resumed, “Mr. Darcy wassotiresome before.” She arched an eyebrow outlined with pencil. “Infatuated, you know.”
It seemed I had to speak. “That is charming in a new marriage.”
Miss Bingley tittered. “Oh no! Beforethat. He was infatuated with me! It was perfectly shocking. The man followed me like a lost puppy. Finally, I was able to cast him toward Eliza.”
“How incredible,” I said tightly.
Miss Bingley lifted her face, an actress on stage. “He even danced with me. You cannot imagine how remarkable that is. Mr. Darcyneverdances. That is the one thing I miss. For all that he was scandalously attentive, he is a handsome figure on the dance floor.”
“Miss Bingley,” I began, “I am acquainted with—”
She shushed me loudly. Mr. Darcy was threading the assembly toward us. I exhaled the rest of my sentence as a sigh and waited to see what would happen.
Mr. Darcy arrived and bowed. Was that his sixth bow to me this evening? “Miss W—” he began exactly as Miss Bingley laughingly enthused, “Mr. Darcy!”
Mr. Darcy swiveled his bow to her. “Miss Bingley. I trust you are well?”
His adjustment was subtle, but Miss Bingley’s eyes darted between him and me. Her smile thinned. “You know each other.”
“Miss Woodhouse was our guest at Chathford House.” To me, he said, “Are you enjoying your new accommodation?”
I smiled brightly. “It cannot match the elegance of Chathford, but it is convenient.”
Mr. Darcy’s gaze remained intent on mine. The moment lengthened. He was here for some purpose.
Finally, he said, “Will you dance this evening?”
“I may,” I said. It would have been impossible before I brimmed with Yuánchi’s strength.
“It would be my honor to accompany you,” he said with yet another bow. I nodded, and he departed.
Miss Bingley was rigidly silent. I debated describing the splendors of Chathford House to cheer her up.
Georgiana and Mary arrived smiling with an older, pleasant woman, and I was introduced to Mary’s mother, Mrs. Bennet. That caused Miss Bingley to vanish in a jangle of irritated jewelry, after which Mary and Mrs. Bennet exchanged a satisfied glance while Georgiana looked disappointed. At this rate, I would need a list of who disliked whom.
“There are a good number of draca present,” Mary said with satisfaction.
“Does that help your project?” I said.
“Society restricts the display of draca to diminish the power of wyves. The patriarchy abhors any sign of female achievement, so they distort binding, a feminine strength, into a moral bludgeon of virginity and virtue. The Britons at Pemberley bind draca without any of that masculine probity, and their wyves have superior relationships with draca.”
That was a more interesting answer than I expected. “How do the Britons bind?”
At that, the crowd fell suddenly silent, and our conversation ended. Every head turned to the entrance as a voice rang out. “His Royal Highness, the Prince Regent.”
A buzz rose. People backed to the walls, clearing a large receiving oval for the prince—England’s reigning monarch, as King George had been declared mad years ago, causing the establishment of the regency.
“Was he expected?” I whispered to no one in particular.
Georgiana answered, “No. But he is always invited to London events.” Mary was backing into the crowd. Georgiana caught her hand and pulled her forward. “You stay right here!”
I could see the prince’s black, double-breasted evening coat, a military style though not a true uniform. He was with a half-dozen attendants and members of court. After hearing shocking stories of his infidelities, he looked far more mundane than I imagined. Rather old and stout.
