Darcy nodded, pleased by her information. “In London, Twelfth Night has always been an occasion where society felt free to throw all caution to the wind. The costumes allow a certain anonymity, and the custom to pair up with another carries the illusion of fidelity, when the reality is that debauchery is not uncommon on the occasion.”
Miss Elizabeth’s gravity informed Darcy that she did not disagree with him. “Yes, I have heard of such things. In Meryton, it is a ball and nothing more—there is no anonymity; we care about dancing and excellent company, nothing more.”
“Tell me, Miss Elizabeth,” said Darcy, uncertain he should say as much, “do you already have partners engaged for that evening?”
The way she regarded him, Darcy was certain she had seen through his comment. “I rarely have any sets secured before an event. The only time I have ever had one claimed in advance was when Charlotte’s brother decided he was infatuated with me before I turned nineteen.”
“Oh?” asked Darcy. “And does her brother still find you irresistible?”
“Not at all,” was her flippant reply. “He spends much of his time away from the estate. I believe university gave him a taste for the better things in life, and now he hopes to find a wealthy woman to wed.”
Darcy nodded and turned the conversation back. “Then do I presume too much in requesting your first sets at the Twelfth Night ball?”
Miss Elizabeth watched him, her expression unreadable. “Do you truly want them?”
“I would not have asked if I did not.”
Though she eyed him for a moment longer, Darcy could see she was not opposed. “You may have them on one condition, Mr. Darcy.”
“And that is?”
“That you say nothing of it before that evening,” replied Miss Elizabeth. “I would not wish my mother to know of it in advance—she will infer enough from the dance itself, and I have no wish to give her further fuel for speculation.”
“I have no objection so long as you reject any other applications should they come.”
By now, she sported an amused smile. “It has happened only once before, so I do not suppose there is any danger that another will request those dances.”
“Then we are agreed.”
Miss Elizabeth nodded, but then she glanced at where the younger girls still sat, their heads together. “You appear to be a most conscientious guardian, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy paused before offering a response. “As you know, Georgiana is the only living member of my family. I would betray everything my family stands for if I did not care for her as she deserves.”
“You take much on yourself,” said Miss Elizabeth, her expression softening.
“My father left me with that responsibility, and I am the latest in a long line of Darcy masters. It is a duty I accept with no hesitation.”
Miss Elizabeth smiled and nodded. “Yes, that is obvious to anyone who cares to look.”
“Have you much experience in London, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Not much,” confessed she, not appearing affected at all by the admission. “My father does not appreciate society and holds a special disdain for London, so we never go. The Bennets have never had much presence in London, even if we had wished to attend. The only experience I have is when I stay with my aunt and uncle, and they do not move in exalted circles.”
Darcy nodded, considering the Gardiners. Mr. Gardiner, though an excellent man possessing many acquaintances, would be anathema to most in London for his profession. Even those who valued him as a friend and a man of business would not associate with him in a social setting. Therefore, Miss Elizabeth’s experience would have been with others of Mr. Gardiner’s level of society, not the gentle classes, except for perhaps certain members of the lower gentry.
“As you know,” replied Darcy slowly, considering his words, “I am not comfortable in society. It has always seemed to me that those of society feel that the mores that govern us all do not apply to them because of their exalted status. To me, good behavior is good behavior no matter where you find it.”
“With that, I cannot disagree,” said Miss Elizabeth. “What of Miss Bingley?”
Darcy snorted with disdain. “Miss Bingley is nothing more than a tradesman’s daughter giving herself airs because her brother is attempting to join the gentleman class.”
For a moment, Darcy regarded her, considering his next words. “I hope you do not suspect me of excessive pride, Miss Elizabeth. I esteem Bingley because he is an excellent sort—inhis case, I care little for his lineage. If Miss Bingley did not act like a duchess, I would offer her the same courtesy.”
“You are justified in feeling that way, Mr. Darcy,” agreed Miss Elizabeth. “No one can blame you for it.”
“What of you?” asked Darcy, curious about how she would answer. “Do you not wish to move among higher levels of society?”
“The trick in life is to be content. I have never known anything else. While I see the imperfections of the society in which I move, I enjoy it, nonetheless. Should I have the opportunity to move in another society, I imagine I will accustom myself to it.”
