“My Elizabeth told me she enjoyed your conversation at the assembly,” Mr. Bennet said. “That is a rare event, I assure you. More often, she comes home lamenting insipid dance partners and tiresome ladies.”
“He is in jest,” Elizabeth protested, turning to face Darcy. “I do enjoy balls and assemblies. ’Tis he who abhors socializing, not I.” Her feigned scowl, ruined by a mischievous wink, only made him laugh all the more.
“She knows me well,” Mr. Bennet acknowledged. “I am rather particular about which gatherings I attend. The demands of society wear on me.” He leaned back in his chair with a shake of the head. “But Sir William is a friend of long-standing, and thus I make the effort.”
Elizabeth sighed with familiar exasperation. “If you left the house more often, perhaps society would not seem so tiresome.”
“When you are old and beset with children as I am, you will better understand.” He turned once more to Darcy. “Tell me, sir, do you play chess?”
Darcy remained in conversation with Elizabeth and Mr. Bennet for some time before she suggested they return to the gathering and mingle. As they stood, Mr. Bennet thanked him warmly for the stimulating exchange.
“Do call on me, sir. We might play a game or two and speak further of books and estates. After hearing you describe your libraries, mine may appear rather modest, but I dare say we might find some common ground among its many volumes.”
“I shall, sir, thank you.” Darcy grinned and offered his arm to Miss Elizabeth. “May I escort you?”
“You may, sir.” She laid her hand gently upon his arm. Darcy could not help but compare her light, natural touch with Miss Bingley’s habitual, catlike grip. He much preferred Elizabeth’s manner.
“I believe you have given my father another reason to attend such events,” she remarked as they re-entered the parlor. “I have not seen him enjoy himself so thoroughly in quite some time.”
“I hope my company did not disappointyou,”he said, the words escaping him unbidden.
“Not at all, sir.” A touch of color rose in her cheeks; however, she appeared neither uncomfortable nor discomposed. “Though our acquaintance is yet new, you seem an intelligent man. I should be pleased to call you a friend.”
His heart gave a sudden, startled leap. “Thank you,” he said, suffusing his voice with warmth. “I intend to seek out Oakham Mount on the morrow. It lies between Netherfield Park and Longbourn, if I rightly recall.”
“Yes, that is so. I walk out most mornings. Perhaps our paths will cross.” She sounded hopeful, and Darcy turned to look at her.
“I would like that,” he replied with quiet sincerity. Never had he been more acutely aware of his own plain appearance than when gazing into her countenance. He admired her deeply.That he could feel so strongly on the strength of such a brief acquaintance baffled him. Yet it seemed as though his heart had at last recognized what it had long been searching for—and having found it, could only move forward without hesitation.
Elizabeth excused herself a few moments later, gesturing to her sister, Miss Bennet, who was waving at her from across the room.
Darcy stepped back toward the edge of the gathering, placing himself where he might observe the lady without obstruction. She spoke with evident animation, her beautiful face alight with good humor and her eyes aglow in the candlelight. Never had a lady so entranced him. Never had he beheld such beauty, grace, and intelligence united so perfectly in one person.Charles may have Miss Bennet,he thought.The younger sister is by far the superior creature.
“I can guess the nature of your reverie.” Miss Bingley’s sultry tones made Darcy frown.
“I should imagine not,” he replied curtly, knowing he was being more brusque than civility required.
“You are bemoaning the prospect of so many evenings spent in such company,” she continued, oblivious to the dismissiveness in his tone. “Surrounded as we are by those so beneath us—compelled to endure their attempts at refinement, all the while longing for a place where true elegance may yet be found.”
“My thoughts were more agreeably engaged, madam.” His gaze had returned to Elizabeth, now conversing with Miss Lucas. Both ladies wore cheerful smiles, and Darcy found himself wishing he knew the subject of their amusement.
“What is it that so occupies your thoughts, sir?” Miss Bingley moved closer to his side and possessively placed her hand upon his arm.
“I was meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.” His lipscurved into a half-smile, and his gaze softened as he imagined Miss Elizabeth’s eyes turning toward his own.
The woman clawing his arm practically purred in response. “And which lady has inspired such ardent admiration?”
Her simpering did little to disturb his thoughts. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” he replied distractedly.
The effect of his words was instantaneous. She dropped his arm and drew in a sharp breath. “Miss Eliza Bennet, she drawled. I am all astonishment! Pray, when am I to wish you joy?”
When he did not reply, she turned and swept away. Once she was out of earshot, he murmured to himself, “Soon, I hope.”
Not long after, a cry for dancing arose. Sir William and the other gentlemen set to work removing the furniture and rolling back the rugs. One of Miss Elizabeth’s sisters took a seat at the pianoforte and began playing several jigs.
Darcy looked about the room in search of Elizabeth, intending to solicit her hand for a set. Instead, he came upon Miss Lucas first and approached her.
“I thank you for the offer, sir, but I suspect you intended to ask another.” Miss Lucas appeared dejected, and Darcy studied her countenance.
