Mr. Bingley laughed delightedly at the exchange, slipping his arm lightly through Darcy’s in companionable encouragement. “Come, Darcy—there will be plenty of sets and so many pretty partners to choose from. Few gentlemen tonight, you know. You will be in high demand.”
Darcy’s mouth twitched—almost a smile—but he offered only the faintest nod. Elizabeth watched the whole tableau with keen interest, wondering if this reserved gentleman might yet surprise them all before the evening was over.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Bennet beamed like the sun breaking through clouds. Her mission had begun in earnest.
At that moment, Mr. Bennet arrived through the press of guests, making his way back to the group with a genial nod to neighbours he passed. In his wake came Mr. Collins, trying not to be jostled, one hand clutching his hat against his chest like a talisman.
Mr. Bennet gave Elizabeth a conspiratorial glance, as if to say “watch this unfold,” before greeting the group politely. “Ah, Mr. Bingley, good evening. Miss Bingley, welcome. Mr. Darcy—pleasure to see you here among us country folk.”
Bingley beamed, greeting him with unstudied warmth. “Mr. Bennet! Delighted to see you again. We were hoping to find you and Mrs. Bennet here. A grand evening, is it not?”
“It improves by the minute,” Mr. Bennet observed with mild irony, casting a pointed look at Mr. Collins, who responded with an even louder, self-important throat-clearing, plainly expecting to be presented.
Mr. Bennet allowed himself the faintest sigh before turning to their company. “Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, Miss Bingley—may I present my cousin, Mr. Collins of Hunsford.”
Mr. Collins bowed with great ceremony, one hand pressed theatrically to his waistcoat. “Honoured—truly honoured—to make your distinguished acquaintance. I am lately come into the living at Hunsford, which, I must add, is most generously bestowed upon me by my noble patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She is all affability and condescension.”
Miss Bingley raised her brows just perceptibly but managed a polite inclination of the head.
Mr. Bingley blinked, then offered an amiable smile. “Indeed? Very good of her, I am sure.”
Darcy’s bow was reserved but scrupulously correct. “Mr. Collins.”Darcy’s eyes grew a shade cooler but remained polite.
But Mr. Collins was undeterred, turning slightly toward Darcy with eager reverence. “Indeed, sir, I have heard of your connection to her ladyship. She speaks of her nephew with such marked approval. It is a privilege to meet one so highly esteemed.”
Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled with barely hidden amusement at that, while Mrs. Bennet attempted to beam encouragement at them all, clearly willing Collins to make a good impression—so long as he spoke no further.
“Ah—hem!” Mr. Collins continued with laboured dignity, oblivious to any lack of enthusiasm. “I consider it my duty—nay, my privilege—to speak often and with the greatest respect of Rosings Park, her ladyship’s grand estate. So stately, so wellappointed—truly an example to us all of noble stewardship and Christian hospitality.”
Elizabeth suppressed a twitch at the corner of her mouth, lowering her lashes so he would not catch her expression.
Collins turned slightly to Darcy with fawning earnestness. “Mr. Darcy, meeting you here is an unexpected example of sense, dignity, and the blessings of Providence. Truly, we are all so very blessed to stand in such society tonight.”
Darcy’s expression barely shifted. He gave the barest inclination of his head, voice cool but correct. “You are...very obliging, Mr. Collins.”
Mr. Bennet’s eyes twinkled with dangerous humour. “Indeed, Mr. Collins is most determined no one should forget Lady Catherine’s virtues, even here among us poor Hertfordshire folk.”
Mrs. Bennet shot her husband a quelling look before clapping her hands lightly in false cheer. “Yes, yes! We are all honoured. Now that we are all introduced so properly, we must not delay the dancing. Mr. Bingley—Jane will be delighted to join you, I am sure.”
Bingley turned to Jane with beaming eagerness. “Miss Bennet—may I have the honour of this set?”
Jane’s flush deepened, but she met his gaze with steady sweetness and dipped into a graceful curtsey. “You may, sir.”
He offered his arm with boyish delight, and she laid her gloved fingers on it lightly, allowing herself to be led toward the assembling couples. Mrs. Bennet watched them go, pressing her hand to her heart as if to steady its triumphant racing.
Elizabeth stood slightly aside, observing the room with alert composure. She noticed Miss Bingley’s assessing stare follow Jane and Bingley, lips pursing just so before smoothing into polite disinterest. Elizabeth inclined her head in mildacknowledgment, allowing herself only the smallest, private smile.
Mr. Collins, meanwhile, cleared his throat once more—loudly enough to jar Darcy’s attention. “Mr. Darcy, sir—such a lively gathering, is it not? I always feel that nothing speaks so well for a community’s moral health as an evening of well-regulated dancing. Provided, of course, it is kept within bounds of Christian propriety.”
Darcy turned his head slowly, fixing him with a level stare. “Indeed, Mr. Collins.”
Encouraged, Mr. Collins puffed up even more. “Of course, at Rosings, her ladyship maintains the highest standards. She has often spoken of how the best company will elevate such events beyond mere frivolity. I dare say even an assembly such as this might win her approval, were she inclined to attend.”
Darcy’s mouth twitched minutely, the closest he had come to a smile all evening. “An admirable ambition.”
Elizabeth, half-listening, felt her lips press together to keep in a laugh. She caught Darcy’s glance as he shifted uncomfortably under Collins’s unflagging monologue. Their eyes met for the briefest instant—hers dancing with restrained amusement, his narrowing almost imperceptibly in reluctant acknowledgement of the absurdity.
“However, in my humble opinion—” Mr. Collins was feeling particularly eloquent and might have gone on at length, encouraged by such patient and enduring company.
