“Are you in earnest, Charlotte?” Jane asked, blinking in surprise. “You have not even made his acquaintance.”
Charlotte lifted her chin, her voice calm but edged with quiet desperation. “Any two rational creatures who possess a unified purpose can muddle along well enough.”
Elizabeth caught the slight wringing of Charlotte’s hands, the way her fingers twisted together as though she were trying to steady herself, and her heart squeezed with sympathy. Charlotte was nearly on the shelf—that was enough to make her steady friend fret. Seeking to ease the tension, she chuckled. “Very well. If Mary cannot be persuaded to accept Mr Collins, then I shall direct him to you, for I assure you, I shall not be pressed into an unwanted marriage.”
Charlotte’s eyes flickered with gratitude before she masked it with a brisk nod. “Then you have decided against him. Kitty and Lydia are not yet out, so that leaves Mary. I suppose shemightnot be opposed to the match.“ Her composure faltered for a moment before she gestured towards the entryway, her expression brightening. “I see the Netherfield party has arrived.”
Jane and Elizabeth turned as the door opened, revealing Miss Bingley sweeping in on Mr Darcy’s arm, her cloying smile fixed in place, her fingers clamped possessively around his sleeve. Mr Darcy, for his part, looked thoroughly displeased with the arrangement, his gaze sweeping the room with restless precision until it found Elizabeth. Their eyes met, and for a brief instant, the tension in his expression eased, replaced by a small, genuine smile and a nod that seemed meant only for her.
Elizabeth felt warmth rise in her cheeks and quickly turned away, chiding herself for reading too much into a simple greeting. Behind them came Mr Bingley, bright and eager, followed by Mr and Mrs Hurst, who looked as though they would rather be anywhere else.
“Good evening!” Bingley exclaimed, striding forwards to greet them, his eyes alight with pleasure as they found Jane. “Miss Bennet, you look splendid. One could hardly think it is autumn, given the beauty of the fair flowers before me.”
“You are a flatterer, Mr Bingley,” Jane replied with a soft laugh, the gentle blush on her cheeks deepening as she met his gaze.
“Flattery, Miss Bennet, is only flattery if untrue.” Bingley beamed at her, utterly unabashed. “How do you do tonight?”
“Very well, thank you. And yourself?”
“Despite having our departure delayed once again, I find I am in excellent spirits,” Bingley said cheerfully, glancing over his shoulder at his sister, who was now whispering something sharp in Mr Darcy’s ear. “Will there be dancing? I should love to stand up with you, Miss Bennet.”
“My father plans to roll up the rugs and make room for dancing,” Charlotte interjected, smiling. “Your wish will be fulfilled.”
“Capital!” Bingley exclaimed, his joy uncontained. “And you, Miss Elizabeth, must save me a set as well, or I shall feel quite rejected.”
Elizabeth laughed, curtsying lightly. “I will be sure to reserve a dance, Mr Bingley, lest I risk your disapproval.”
“Excellent,” he said, before offering his arm to Jane and escorting her towards the refreshment table, leaving Elizabeth to watch them, her heart full of conflicting emotions—hope for her sister, concern for her family’s future, and the uneasy warmth that remained from the moment she had met Mr Darcy’s eyes across the room.
Since their last call to Longbourn, Darcy had come to a conclusion regarding his conundrum. His cousin would join him at Netherfield soon—how soon, he could not say, but when he did, they would discuss the matterthen. He could not put aside the suspicion that he had inadvertently stumbled upon a lead in Anne’s disappearance. Could the child be hers?
Whatever the case, he would gain no more ground or information if Miss Elizabeth was constantly suspicious of his motives. What more was there to do than to know her better? But the idea of building a rapport only so he could ferret out information made him feel troubled. Disguise of any sort was his abhorrence, and he could not use a young lady so ill.
His conscience whispered that it would be no great trial to come to know her. He admired Miss Elizabeth. She was a gentleman’s daughter, and he was a gentleman. In that, they were equal. Yes, she lacked the consequence of many ladies of theton, and if Bingley was correct, then her dowry was smaller than he had a right to expect. But she intrigued him. Her vivacious personality complemented his more sedate, serious demeanor. Her laughter made his heart skip a beat. And her eyes shone with intelligence. No, it would not be difficult at all. The struggle would come from preventing his heart from being lost to her.
Miss Bingley had latched onto his arm as they entered Lucas Lodge and did not seem inclined to release him. She led him here and there for half an hour before he politely excused himself. With a flutter of her eyelashes, she informed him she would be waiting for his return.
Darcy made his way across the room, lingering within earshot of Miss Elizabeth. She stood with Sir William Lucas and another man in a red coat. By the decoration, Darcy surmised he was a colonel.
“Welcome to Meryton,” Miss Elizabeth said.
“We anticipate the winter here,” the colonel replied. “Though the rest of the militia has yet to arrive, those who are here to set up camp have been welcomed warmly. I have taken a house in Meryton and I hope my wife will receive the same hospitality when she arrives.”
“You are married, sir?” Miss Lucas sounded somewhat disappointed. Darcy thought he could understand why. She was one of the oldest single ladies in Meryton and likely had concerns about her future.
“I am. My bride is spending time with her family until I retrieve her. Mrs Forster is eager for new company.”
“We will look forward to making her acquaintance,” Miss Elizabeth replied.
Elizabeth glanced up then, noting Darcy’s presence just outside the circle of conversation. She raised an eyebrow speculatively, a small half-smile appearing on her face. He was struck then by how lovely she was, and how her eyes, so very fine, sparkled in the candlelight. His heart lurched, and he recognised the feeling for what it was: attraction.
She curtsied and excused herself, moving away from the group. Darcy moved to intercept her, greeting her warmly. “Miss Elizabeth. How do you do?”
“Mr Darcy. I see you have freed yourself.” Her mouth formed a small ‘oh’ and she looked mortified. “I am sorry!” she cried. “I did not mean—”
“Think nothing of it.” In fact, he had to work to smother a laugh. “Your assessment is accurate.”
“Still, it was rude of me to point it out.” She bit her lip, a look of nervousness falling upon her face. “Have you seen the refreshment table? Sir William always spoils his guests.”
