She studied his face and saw that he was sincere, and she asked her question plainly.
“In what ways do the Spanish assist the British army in the Peninsular War, sir? Or do our soldiers fight alone and unsupported by the local population?”
“Miss Bennet, do you have family engaged in the war?”
“No, sir, not family. Two friends from my childhood are serving there, and we are concerned for them. Their mothers receive letters very seldom, and sometimes two will arrive together after a long silence.”
Her eyes held sadness. “I have often wondered whether, if one of my friends were injured, a kindly woman might take him in and nurse him, or whether the Spanish fight against our men.”
Mr. Allen replied, “You need not fear for your friends, Miss Bennet. Most often, Spanish civilians shelter our soldiers in their homes. They provide food and water, conceal them from French patrols, and even assist them with transportation from one place to another.”
“This gladdens my heart, sir. I shall be certain to share this with their mothers. No one suffers so much as a mother who has a son away at war.”
Both Elizabeth and Mr. Allen were interrupted then by Mr. Darcy.
Looking annoyed, he reproved her. “Miss Bennet, it is not proper for you to remain secluded upon this couch, conversing with a gentleman you have but just met, while a dance is in progress. If you are not dancing, you ought to be under the chaperonage of your aunt.”
Elizabeth was angered by this, and both men could see her vexation plainly on her face.
Mr. Allen stood and offered his hand. “Come, Miss Bennet, allow me to escort you to your aunt, and we may finish our discussion there.”
Elizabeth saw that he was perfectly content to accompany her. She took his hand and rose, smiling now. “Thank you, Mr. Allen. That would be very agreeable.”
All three walked to where Mrs. Gardiner and her two charges stood.
Georgiana approached her brother. “Fitzwilliam, will you dance with me?”
Mr. Darcy took her hand. “Yes, my dear. Come.”
Mr. Allen watched as Darcy led his sister onto the floor, then he turned toward Elizabeth. He said, “Did I answer your question, Miss Bennet?”
“Yes, sir, you did. Now I find myself wishing to learn more about you. Do you spend most of your time in London?”
They spoke together without interruption until the next dance began, and Elizabeth’s hand was claimed by Mr. Fletcher, a widower who lived in Harpenden.
She danced every set until Mr. Darcy claimed her for the waltz. As they stood facing one another, awaiting the music, he said, “You appear to enjoy Mr. Allen’s society, Miss Bennet.”
“I do, sir. Anyone may know it. He is a respectable gentleman, and I see no reason to conceal my regard.”
“It is not considered proper to wear one’s heart upon one’s sleeve,” he replied.
“Sir, we have only met this evening for the first time. I think it impertinent to suppose I have formed a tendre upon so slight an acquaintance. Really, Mr. Darcy, I had believed better of your understanding.”
His lip quirked up on one side. “I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet. I was too hasty in drawing my conclusions.”
The music began. He placed one arm about her back and took her hand in the other. He was a fine dancer, and she was soon lost in the music, in the warmth of his hands, and in the depth of his dark eyes.
She became aware of the moment when his hand slipped to her waist, when his fingers spread there, and he slowly drew her nearer until they were almost in an embrace. He appeared scarcely conscious of it himself. He continued to dance in silence, guiding her with ease, his gaze fixed upon her as they moved with the music.
When the dance ended, he was slow to release her. For a moment, she remained standing with his hand still resting upon her waist, his other hand closed around hers. At last, he released her and bowed.
He offered his arm, escorted her back to her aunt, and then quietly withdrew.
Mr. Bingley claimed Elizabeth for the next set and led her into the line for a country dance.
“Sister, it appears that you command the attention of two gentlemen.”
She raised her eyes to him. “Are you teasing me, sir?”
