Darcy assumed the gentleman was Sir William Lucas. The lady must therefore be his elder daughter, the one nearly on the shelf. He refocused his attention as Bingley offered an introduction.
“Mr. Darcy is my very good friend. He will be staying at Netherfield Park for some time to assist me.” Bingley grinned. “We are both looking forward to the evening.”
“As you should! Nowhere else will you find such agreeable company or beautiful ladies. Meryton boasts the jewels of the county, you know. Ah! I see Mrs. Bennet. Come, allow me to introduce you to her and her lovely daughters.”
“Of course. First, let me solicit Miss Lucas’s hand for the first set.” Bingley, ever eager to please, smiled cheerfully at the lady. She accepted graciously, with none of the simpering or fluttering of eyelashes Darcy might have expected.
She may not be a trial to stand up with,he reasoned. “I, too, would be honored to dance a set with you, Miss Lucas,” he said solemnly.Best be done with Bingley’s strictures as soon as possible.“Do you have a set free?”
“My second is available, Mr. Darcy,” she said politely. With that, her father led the small party toward a matron standing with two ladies some distance away.
“Mrs. Bennet,” Sir William said in greeting. “How do you do this evening? Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, you are both looking lovely.”
“Thank you, Sir William.” The elder girl, Miss Bennet, smiled shyly at the master of ceremonies. Darcy glanced at Bingley. His friend’s mouth hung open ever so slightly. He wore a dazed expression, as if he had been struck on the head.
“Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley, may I present Mrs. Frances Bennet and her two eldest daughters. This is Miss Jane Bennet, and this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Darcy bowed, but something in Bingley’s expression caught his attention. The stupefied look that had overtaken his friend when he first saw Miss Bennet had changed into something more perplexing as he greeted the lady’s younger sister.
Bingley’s brow furrowed, and his eyes narrowed. His perpetual grin froze, and his mouth turned down slightly. “Miss ElizabethBennet,did you say? Have we, perchance, met before?”
Miss Elizabeth flushed and dropped her gaze to her slippers. “I have never strayed further from home than London, sir, and I visit town but rarely.”
Darcy observed the entire exchange with keen interest. Never had he seen two sisters more different in appearance. Miss Bennet was the perfect example of fashionable beauty. She was tall, willowy, and had hair the color of wheat ready for harvest. Her blue eyes were kind and spoke of gentleness. The younger sister, by contrast, was petite. Her light and pleasing figure suggested she was of an active nature. When she raised her gaze from the floor once more, Darcy’s attention was drawn to her fine eyes. They sparkled with good humor and a touch of mystery.Curious,he thought.
“Perhaps the Misses Bennet have a dance to bestow upon our guests?” Sir William asked.
“Indeed!” Bingley snapped out of whatever stupor had momentarily possessed him. “Miss Bennet, may I have your next free set?”
“The fourth is yours, sir.” Miss Bennet smiled kindly, her eyes twinkling. “Elizabeth, have you a free set for our new neighbor?”
“I do. Mr. Bingley, my second and my last have not yet been claimed. Perhaps one will suit you?” Miss Elizabeth smiled, her eyes sparkling merrily.
“I shall have the second,” Mr. Bingley declared. An unfathomable look flashed across his countenance before his easy smile reasserted itself. He turned to Darcy and raised an eyebrow.
“Mrs. Bennet, if I may be so bold as to claim a set?” he asked. Mentally, he stuck his tongue out at his friend.I did tell him I would not be pushed into asking,he thought.
“You are a flatterer, sir.” Mrs. Bennet smiled kindly. “I would be pleased to accept your offer, provided it is a less vigorous dance. I am not as young as I once was.”
The lady made no attempt to press him to speak to her daughters. Instead, she turned to them as the orchestra struck a chord to signal the dancers. “Jane, Lizzy, here are your partners. Off you go.”
The ladies curtsied and departed with two local gentlemen. Mrs. Bennet turned back to Sir William. “You must have many others to meet,” she said to Mr. Bingley.
“I do; however, I am engaged with Miss Lucas for this set. Pray, excuse me. Darcy, will you dance or remain here?”
“Mrs. Bennet?” he asked, turning to the lady who still stood beside him.
“Oh, the first set is always a reel, sir,” she said. “I am content to wait until there is a slower set. But perhaps you would like to stand with me? I am eager to speak to you of Derbyshire. We lived there many years ago, before my husband inherited.”
He blinked in surprise. “Really? Pray, where did you reside?”
She smiled. “We lived in Lambton, sir, very near the church. My husband worked with Mr. Palmer.”
A memory stirred. “Bennet! The solicitor!”
Mrs. Bennet laughed merrily. “Yes, sir. My husband—on behalf of his employer—came to Pemberley more than once with papers for your father. Mr. Palmer may have been a country solicitor, but he handled many of Pemberley’s smaller, local legal matters.”
“I hardly know what to say. I remember when your family left the area. Mr. Palmer was not pleased to lose Mr. Bennet’s aid.”
