It did not signify that she and Mr Darcy had conspired to bring their foe to justice, or had blurred the line between reality and fantasy during their sham courtship. It did not matter that their time together had ended, because they had accomplished what they had initially set out to do.
And yes, her opinion of him had changed. He was kinder and gentler than she had ever supposed him to be. But that did not mean that their acquaintance should turn into anything more than friendliness.
No, it was best to forget about Mr Darcy, even though her chest ached with a hollowness she could not identify. Instead, she put on a cheerful smile for her sister, who had already exchanged a promise to see Charles Bingley at the Feversham Ball.
∞∞∞
The Feversham Ball wore a gentler aspect that evening than the other assemblies that had lately been the stage for speculation and cruelty. That morning’s scandal sheet had done its work amongst theton. The truth, once printed, spread faster than any lie. Whispers still moved through the room, but theylacked their former sharpness. What remained was curiosity, no more biting than it had ever been before. Gossip was eternally a source of great amusement for most in attendance.
Jane stood beside Elizabeth near the edge of the dance floor, her posture composed though her fingers worried the silk of her gloves. Elizabeth had spent extra time on Jane’s hair and made sure that her gown was pressed to perfection, but the attention to and loveliness of Jane’s appearance did nothing to dampen her nervousness.
Elizabeth leaned close to murmur a reassurance when a familiar voice sounded behind them.
“Miss Bennet.”
Jane turned, and there stood Mr Bingley, his expression open, earnest, and unmistakably anxious. He bowed to both sisters, who curtsied graciously.
“I hoped,” he said, glancing briefly at Elizabeth before returning his attention to Jane, “that I might speak with you.”
Elizabeth withdrew at once, retreating a discreet distance while keeping them in her peripheral vision. She had rarely seen Mr Bingley look so upset.
“I owe you an apology,” he said without preamble. “A sincere one. I allowed myself to be guided by fears and hearsay when I ought to have trusted my own knowledge of your character. I deeply regret the pain my absence must have caused you.”
Jane, ever generous, did not pretend indifference but met his confession with honesty. “I was sorry to lose your company, but I understand how difficult these circumstances have been.”
Bingley’s relief was immediate. “I should like, if you will permit me, to call upon you tomorrow. Not as a matter of obligation,” he added quickly, “but of hope.”
Jane smiled, soft and radiant. “I should be very glad to see you, Mr Bingley.”
Elizabeth turned away at last, satisfied, her heart lighter than it had been in weeks.
She had scarcely taken three steps when Mr Darcy appeared at her side.
“I see congratulations are in order,” he said.
Elizabeth glanced back at Jane and Bingley, then smiled. “It seems justice is in a forgiving mood tonight.”
Mr Darcy hesitated only a moment before speaking again. “May I claim the next dance?”
There was no calculation or necessity for performance in the question. Elizabeth felt the significance of it keenly.
She, of course, accepted.
As they moved onto the floor, Elizabeth was aware of the glances that followed them, but they no longer burned. If anything, they felt approving, if not curious. Thetonobserved them now not as an absurdity or through the lens of scandal, but as a possibility finally made sensible.
They danced easily, in step and in silence for a time.
“I am glad,” Mr Darcy said at last, “that Bingley has found the courage to trust his own happiness.”
“So am I,” Elizabeth replied. “Jane deserves nothing less.”
Darcy studied her, his expression softened by admiration. “You defended them both,” he said. “Jane. Georgiana. You never wavered.”
Elizabeth lifted her chin slightly. “It would have been harder to do nothing. I have never been very good at that.”
The smile he gave her was broad and unguarded.
When the dance ended, Darcy did not immediately release her hand. Instead, he turned as Mrs Gardiner approached, her manner gracious but purposeful.
