The first dance proved to be a lively reel. Darcy had always moved well despite his height, and Miss Bennet proved an excellent partner. She was light on her feet, her movements graceful and assured.
The second dance was a jig, faster and more demanding. They navigated the intricate steps in synchrony. By its conclusion, both were breathless and flushed from exertion.
Darcy was not in the habit of dancing with one lady twice, however, it appeared many pairs continued for a second one, and thus he too had done so.
They stepped aside as other couples took their positions for the next set. Miss Bennet accepted a glass of lemonade from a passing servant, her colour heightened becomingly from the dancing.
“You dance remarkably well, Mr Darcy,” she observed, then seemed to catch herself. “That is, I hope you will forgive my directness. It was kindly meant.”
“No forgiveness necessary. I am grateful for the compliment.” He studied her curiously. “I am surprised by your hesitation. The observation seemed harmless enough.”
Colour touched her cheeks. “I have been attempting to moderate my tendency towards forthright speech. It is not always well-received.”
Before Darcy could respond to this intriguing statement, she continued quickly, as if to deflect attention from her previous remark. “I had not realised you were a person of such consequence until I observed the reactions of the other guests. You are evidently someone important, although I cannot say I know precisely why.”
The admission was so refreshingly honest that Darcy felt laughter rising within him, an unusual sensation in social settings. “And does my consequence matter to you, Miss Bennet?”
“Not particularly,” she replied, then immediately looked as if she regretted the bluntness. “I did not mean to suggest…what I intended to say—”
“Please, do not amend your statement. Your honesty is refreshing. I have spent the entire afternoon being pursued by ladies who care very much indeed about my consequence. It is pleasant to encounter someone who does not.”
“That must be exhausting.”
“It is. In London, I have at least developed strategies for deflecting the attention. Here, I find myself rather at a loss.” He paused, then added on impulse, “In truth, the situation inLondon is scarcely better. My aunt has been pressuring me relentlessly to marry my cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh. The entirety of my family seems convinced of the match’s suitability and appropriateness.”
“Your entire family wishes you to marry your cousin?”
“They believe it an excellent arrangement. Our fortunes are compatible and our connections advantageous. My aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, speaks of the match as if it were settled in our cradles.” He heard the frustration in his own voice and attempted to moderate it. “Forgive me. I do not usually burden new acquaintances with family difficulties.”
Her expression had grown thoughtful. “You need not apologise. But surely you need only refuse? You are a gentleman of independent means. What can your aunt do if you decline?”
“In theory, nothing. In practice...Lady Catherine possesses a formidable force of personality. She does not accept refusal gracefully. And my other relations, whilst less vocal, echo her sentiments.”
“Then you must fracture that unity,” she said decisively, then caught herself again. “That is, if I may be so bold as to offer advice when you have not requested it…”
“Please, continue.”
She hesitated, weighing her words. “If your family presents a united front, then you must, well, you must find an ally within that front. Someone whose opinion they value, who might advocate for your independence in the matter. Or failing that, you must make your own position so unambiguously clear thatthey cannot continue to misinterpret your silence as eventual compliance.”
Darcy considered this. “You suggest I should be more forceful in my refusals.”
“I suggest you should remove all ambiguity from the situation. If your aunt can interpret your reluctance as mere modesty or temporary hesitation, she will continue to press. But if you make your position clear, then at least the burden of continued pressure falls upon her, and your other relations may begin to see her persistence as unreasonable rather than justified.”
“That is sensible advice, Miss Bennet.”
“My father always says that most family difficulties arise from insufficient clarity of communication. But, then again, he usually offers this wisdom whilst hiding in his study to avoid my mother’s schemes.”
They fell into easier conversation, yet Darcy continued to notice the pattern he had observed earlier. She would begin to speak with natural animation, then visibly check herself, moderating her tone and shortening her remarks as though afraid of saying too much.
“Forgive me for observing, earlier you mentioned attempting to moderate your tendency towards forthright speech. Might I ask why? Your opinions are rather enlightening, in my opinion.”
Her gaze dropped to her lemonade. “It is complicated.”
“I find complicated matters often benefit from discussion. And we are, after all, merely conversing at a garden party. What harm can candour do here?”
“You are persistent, sir.”
“So I have been told. Usually by my sister, who considers it one of my more irritating qualities.”
