Lady Catherine, who could not possibly have guessed her thoughts, was only looking superior. “You will need to know these dances if you are to move in more genteel circles when we go to Town.”
Elizabeth looked to her husband in surprise. “Are we to go to Town?” she asked directly.
Mr Darcy did stand then, and joined her before the chairs of the ladies.
“We will travel to London eventually, I imagine,” Mr Darcy began.
“And I cannot wait until we get to London to teach you how to act with decorum,” Lady Catherine cut in. “What of the Season, I ask you? Surely you will wish to attend next year.”
“A possibility,” Mr Darcy hedged smoothly.
Lady Catherine sniffed. “Then we have a year to prepare your new wife for her duties in London.” She looked Elizabeth up and down. “First, Darcy, it would be a wonder if she were ready in a decade, had I not come to offer my aid. Do you not have anything appropriate to wear, Mrs Darcy? This gown must be at least two years old.”
Elizabeth attempted to smooth down her skirts and her temper. “When one is the second of five daughters, one must make economies, Lady Catherine —”
“That is no excuse now. You now belong to one of the foremost families in England. You must have an appropriate wardrobe to match your new position, however accidental.” Lady Catherine pursed her lips. “Do you have no care for the way your new wife represents you in the village, let alone Town?” she asked, scolding her nephew.
Elizabeth had not meant to turn Lady Catherine’s attention to Mr Darcy. “It is not my husband’s doing. I have not had the time to order anything new since coming to Pemberley.”
“Well, that must be remedied as soon as possible. You cannot have your wife walking about in these rags, Darcy.” She sighed and rolled her eyes heavenward. “Really, it is a blessing that I came when I did, or else the whole house might have descended into anarchy,” she huffed. “Now, get into position.”
“I beg your pardon, Lady Catherine?” Elizabeth asked.
“Take the stance. Your partner will place his hand on your waist and will hold the other out. Anne will show you how to do it. Copy her closely,” she instructed.
Thankfully, Mr Darcy went to sit back down in his seat near the window. She turned her back on him so that he would not see the depth of her humiliation as she tried to do as Lady Catherine bid. It took several minutes for her to get the correct stance down. Miss de Bourgh gave her gentle suggestions, though these were difficult to hear over Lady Catherine berating her for being so clumsy.
“Now, show her how to move about, Anne. Heaven knows we will be here all day if she is left to her own devices,” Lady Catherine snapped.
Miss de Bourgh stood beside Elizabeth and showed her how to hold her arms in the correct position, then demonstrated how to move about the room, counting aloud, “One, two, three. One, two, three.” Elizabeth was very fond of dancing, and so she felt she picked up the general idea quickly. Still, Lady Catherine did not let up her criticism.
Finally, Elizabeth gave an exasperated sigh. “Forgive me, Lady Catherine, but it is difficult to learn to dance by oneself. You must give me some credit.”
Lady Catherine thought for a moment, raising her chin. “I give credit where credit is earned, Mrs Darcy.” She turned and waved her nephew over. “Darcy, come over here this instant and help your wife.”
It ought to have been obvious that Mr Darcy was there to practise with her, and yet it had not occurred to Elizabeth before that moment. Heat instantly flooded her face, and she held a hand against her cheek to cover her sudden colour. “That is not necessary. I only need a little more practice —”
“Nonsense. It is only right that he should help to guide you. You will catch on much faster that way.”
Mr Darcy folded his newspaper and placed it in his chair, walking over to the centre of the dance floor. “I would be delighted to help,” he said.
Elizabeth felt as if she were an actress on a stage with Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh sitting there watching. She was unsure why she was so nervous, but when Mr Darcy placed his hand on her waist and then took her hand, her knees went weak, as if they were made of water. It was perhaps for the best that he had a firm hold of her hand. “Follow me,” he whispered.
Elizabeth’s heartbeat was pounding in her ears. “Now, go through the steps with her, Darcy. I want to see if she has the skill to master the waltz. Before I turn a hundred, if possible,” Lady Catherine said.
Everything else faded away as Mr Darcy led her through the dance. He was a generous partner, Elizabeth thoughtdistantly. Mr Darcy must be little short of exasperated to be spending his time so pointlessly, and yet no trace of any such emotion could be seen.
“You are doing very well, Elizabeth,” he said softly. He tightened his arm around her waist, bringing her even closer to his chest. She could hardly breathe with his face so close to hers.
“Thank you,” she replied, barely above a whisper.
As they danced, everything seemed to fade away. Elizabeth forgot they were dancing in an empty room in broad daylight, that Lady Catherine was watching them with a critical eye. Only Mr Darcy’s arms remained. He looked down at her with a small smile, as though he enjoyed the dance as much as she did. Mr Darcy bent his head as though to speak into her ear —
“That will do nicely,” Lady Catherine said decisively. “Now, exchange bows.”
Feeling as though she had been abruptly awakened from a dream as confusing as it was pleasant, Elizabeth obeyed. Though Mr Darcy’s bow was as graceful as ever, Elizabeth suspected the same could not be said of her own. Her limbs felt as though they might float away. Elizabeth took a step back, hoping that none of what she felt could be read on her face. She was utterly unfamiliar with the rush of feeling.
When she had at last schooled her expression to a polite smile, Elizabeth turned to Lady Catherine and Miss de Bourgh. Whatever her mother might think, Mr Darcy’s cousin wore a pleased smile. “You two are the perfect pair. You will be the talk of London when you visit.”
