Elizabeth’s eyes widened despite herself, Sophocles giving an indignant little mrrp as she tightened her hold. Jane’s gentle hand rested against her sleeve in quiet solidarity. Mary blinked solemnly at Darcy, listening with intent concentration. Bingley could not keep the pleased smile from his face.
Mr. Bennet’s brows rose again, the humour in them unmistakable. “Ha! Sudden, you said? Yes, perhaps a little. But oddly reassuring for that very reason. Most young men would sneak notes without asking anyone at all.”
He studied Darcy carefully, weighing him, then let his voice ease into a gentler tone.
“Your asking says something of your intentions, Mr. Darcy. It tells me you mean to proceed openly and with respect.”
Darcy held that scrutiny without flinching, his eyes clear and steady.
Elizabeth felt heat creeping up her neck as she looked down quickly, biting her lip to hold back any too-ready reply. Jane’s smile was quiet and approving; even Mary gave a small, dignified nod.
At last, Mr. Bennet nodded once, slow and deliberate. “You may write—if Elizabeth herself is agreeable to it. I don’t pretend to accept on her behalf. But I have no objection at all.”
Darcy’s shoulders eased slightly. “Thank you. Truly.”
“Lizzy, I think you owe this gentleman an honest answer.I would not want you agreeing too hastily, mind.”
Elizabeth drew in a small breath, steadying herself. She lifted her chin just enough to meet his gaze, her voice low but clear.
“I should be pleased to hear from you, Mr. Darcy.”
Mr. Bennet’s eyes twinkled with approval as he clicked his tongue lightly. “Very good, then.” He gave Elizabeth a more sober look over his spectacles. “Just make sure you read any letter carefully before you answer, my dear.”
Elizabeth let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding and managed a wry, conceding smile. “I shall, Papa.”
But the surprises were not yet over. Mr. Bingley judged it was his turn to share something important and got to his feet, adopting a sort of solemn air.
“If I might also take the liberty of making an announcement,” he said, smiling widely, “I wished to let you all know that the renovations at Netherfield Park are nearly complete. And as Hertfordshire seems so fond of its assemblies, I intend to host a ball in the last week of November. Please consider this your early invitation, all of you here. Miss Bennet learned of this first just minutes ago and agreed it was an excellent idea.”
Jane confirmed this with a gentle smile toward her father and Elizabeth.
Mr. Bingley beamed around the room before adding with earnest hopefulness, “And I do hope Mr. Darcy might prevail upon his sister to accompany him. Miss Georgiana would be most welcome.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows lifted a fraction in clear surprise, but she quickly composed herself and offered a gracious nod. “How generous of you, sir. I am sure many will be delighted.”
Mr. Bennet tapped his fingers on his chair arm with dry amusement. “A ball, eh? You are determined to make yourself beloved of every mother with daughters in the county.”
Bingley’s laugh was unrestrained. “If it makes for good neighbours, sir, I shall bear the burden bravely.”
Jane’s cheeks coloured prettily. She lowered her eyes with quiet pleasure, murmuring, “It will be lovely to have another occasion to gather. Thank you, Mr. Bingley.”
Darcy inclined his head gravely. “Your kindness does you credit, Bingley. I shall certainly inform my sister of your invitation. She would no doubt find it... interesting.”
At that understatement, Elizabeth bit back a smile.
Mary, perched on her chair with prim composure, cleared her throat. “I hope,” she said with solemn precision, “that it will be conducted with suitable decorum.”
Bingley, unruffled, gave her a cheerful nod. “I shall see that the musicians know all the proper dances, Miss Mary. And perhaps we will even manage a hymn or two before supper, if it would please you.”
Mary blinked, uncertain whether to be gratified or scandalised, and subsided with a dignified sniff.
Mr. Bennet’s lips twitched. “Well, Bingley, I hope Netherfield will prove equal to so many eager dancers.”
Bingley laughed. “I shall do my best to make it so, sir—though I fear the floorboards may complain.”
Elizabeth cast a sidelong glance at Darcy, who met her eyes briefly, the faintest glimmer of reluctant amusement in his gaze.
Mr. Bingley, satisfied with the general reception, settled back in his chair with boyish delight. “Excellent. Then it is agreed. A ball it shall be.”
