“And how are your skills? Are you a suitable model for her?” Elizabeth asked.
She looked earnest rather than ready to mock him. “No,” he said honestly.“I do not have the talent of conversing easily with strangers.”
“But you are not shy,” she said, “like you say Miss Darcy is. I never thought your conversation was lacking or unpleasant,” she said with a winning smile. “But you could take the trouble to practise talking to strangers.”
“So could my sister, but I think a lively young lady would be a far better model than me.”
Elizabeth blushed and turned her head, and Darcy cringed. What was he doing? He had at this moment hinted that Elizabeth would be a good friend to his sister. It was true, but he had just made her uncomfortable with his insinuation. Shewas only speaking to him because she was polite and their circles now overlapped.
“Yes, dear Miss Darcy is a lovely girl. Look, there is your cousin,” Miss Bingley said, pulling on his arm. “Let us greet him.”
Fitzwilliam had just left the dance with Mrs Sullivan, and Miss Bingley overcame her dislike of Mrs Sullivan purely to avoid Elizabeth. Miss Bingley could make no headway in his talk with Mrs Sullivan, either. His cousin’s new friend was determined to talk to him, and Fitzwilliam encouraged their conversation—and Darcy suspected why. When the music began again, he asked Mrs Sullivan to dance, and Miss Bingley reluctantly dropped his arm.
“I was not even sitting down,” Mrs Sullivan said to him after they began. “I am honoured.”
“I noticed you were eager to talk with me, and I thought that was best done away from my cousin’s hearing.”
When the dance brought them together again, she asked him what he could mean.
“You either want to talk to me about Fitzwilliam because you have some concern I could assuage, or you want to talk with me because you know I am one of his closest friends and he values my opinion.”
He had made the hint, and Mrs Sullivan was astute enough to take it. “I wanted you to form your own decision about me, and I hoped to talk with you enough to give you the chance. I suspect his lordship and the rest of Fitzwilliam’s family will only note that I am past the years of danger and my money comes from banking, and that I was briefly married a long time ago. They will not care how fond I have grown of your cousin or how bright I see our future together.”
“And if I liked you for your own merits, then perhaps I could take Fitzwilliam’s side when he tells his father he wants to marrya stranger he met through a subscription office, who is over thirty, and whose father was in some line of business?”
She agreed as the dance separated them. Fitzwilliam had attached himself to a woman through the subscription, and even more quickly than L had attracted him. Fitzwilliam’s hints about having a dozen correspondents and a notebook to keep them straight were all bluster. And now he had fixed on Mrs Sullivan, who was intelligent enough to know that his friends would struggle to accept their union.
“Well?” she asked when they stood at the bottom together. “What can I do to bring you to my side?” She said it with a smile, but her tone and manner showed her anxiety over his answer.
He thought it rather soon to commit themselves, for they had known one another a fortnight. Mrs Sullivan was older and not as well-connected or conventionally beautiful as the women Fitzwilliam typically flirted with. But her countenance was pleasing, and made more so when she smiled, which was pretty much all the time. If Clara Sullivan was what Fitzwilliam wanted, so be it. He would not make the same mistake he had made with Bingley.
“There is nothing you need to do to convince me, madam. If my cousin wants to marry you, and you show him all the loyalty and devotion a wife ought, you will have no better friend than me.”
She grinned. “Then I do not have to spend the rest of this dance convincing you of my merits and my faithfulness. We can resume talking about thoroughbred bloodlines like we did at The Green Park, which, I assure you, is a more interesting topic than my good qualities.”
He laughed. “You will find a better conversant on horses in your chosen partner, but I can indulge you.”
The rest of the dance passed pleasantly, and Darcy hoped his cousin would be happy with his choice. The resentment of hisfamily or the indignation of the world would not be enough to stop Mrs Sullivan, and not his cousin either. He brought Mrs Sullivan back to Fitzwilliam and their friends, and, sadly, Miss Bingley was still with them. He would have to ask her to dance.
Fitzwilliam gave him a steady look as he approached, and Darcy thought he seemed nervous. He realised how important his approval was to his cousin, and how much his approval would help when he announced whom he was marrying. He felt anew all the shame in interfering in Bingley’s happiness. Darcy gave his cousin a quick nod, trying to express his acceptance and approval in the crowded room.
Fitzwilliam understood him. He smiled to himself and laid a hand on Mrs Sullivan’s arm, but her attention was caught elsewhere.
“If you will excuse me, I see a young lady by herself.”
Darcy turned and saw that Mrs Sullivan noticed Elizabeth sitting alone. Where had Mrs Hurst or the Gardiners gone? Bingley and Miss Bennet were dancing, and so were the Gardiners. Mr Hurst had likely gone to the card room, and he saw Mrs Hurst gossiping with another group farther away. He shook his head. Mrs Hurst had left Elizabeth there, in a room where she knew not a soul, and had not even bothered to introduce her to anyone.
He thought how disappointed Elizabeth had been by his rejection at the assembly, and how it had clouded her perception of him as a gentleman. He would ask her to dance, but he was now obliged to dance with Miss Bingley. It would be another half an hour before he could talk to Elizabeth. Even though she disliked him, he hoped his company would be preferable to being alone.
At the lastball she went to, Elizabeth wanted to dance all night with Wickham even though it would have come to nothing. And now she hoped for Darcy to see her as an eligible young lady who could make him happy. She wanted to dance with him, and deep down she wanted to conquer what remained unsubdued of his heart, which was arguably all of it.
And considering he might detest me for accusing him of being a horrible person, it could be a very long night.
Mrs Hurst could not abandon her fast enough once the others had joined the dance, and she had found a seat nearby to wait. Elizabeth then saw Darcy ask Mrs Sullivan to dance, and although he looked serious at the beginning, then he laughed and smiled at her through all the rest.
Elizabeth felt a twisting sickness in her stomach, watching him hold hands with Mrs Sullivan and look into her eyes.
Knowing how eager he had been to meet L, she knew she had a pre-engaged heart to attack, but seeing Darcy with another woman felt different. He might still mourn L’s loss, but ElizabethwasL, so how hard could it be to convince Fitzwilliam Darcy that Elizabeth Bennet could answer for his lasting happiness? Remarkably harder than she expected if he was dancing and laughing with another lady.
