“At assemblies where our acquaintance was limited,” Darcy replied evenly. “I consider that obligation discharged.”
Bingley’s mouth twitched. “That sounds dangerously like independence.”
“Did you dance with all your London guests this evening?” Darcy returned calmly. “Or did you perhaps secure a second set with Miss Bennet at the earliest opportunity?”
Bingley grinned outright. “I may have made certain arrangements.”
“I thought as much.”
Bingley clapped him lightly on the shoulder. “You are incorrigible.”
“And you,” Darcy replied, with the faintest hint of irony, “are transparent.”
Bingley did not deny it. He looked back toward Jane, who was speaking quietly with Charlotte.
“I should not wish to hurt her,” he said more seriously.
Darcy followed his gaze.
“Then do not,” he answered.
The music struck up again. Bingley’s expression brightened at once.
“Well,” he said, “I intend not to. But now I’d better dance with another as a good host.”
Darcy observed his friend in the discharge of his duties. Bingley secured a set with one of the London ladies, attentive and cheerful as ever, fulfilling the obligations of a host without visible reluctance.
When supper was announced, however, it was Miss Bennet who found herself beside him at the side table.
They stood close – not conspicuously so, but with the natural ease of two people who had forgotten to calculate appearances. Bingley listened while she spoke, smiling down at her with such unstudied warmth that the crowded room seemed, for him, to contract into a narrower orbit.
He insisted upon selecting something for her. She protested, faintly; he persisted, gently; and the matter was settled with a shared look that required no witness.
Darcy watched from a short remove. He almost laughed.
No argument, however rational, could unsettle a man so plainly at ease in his choice.
Bingley had already made his choice.
***
Supper had scarcely begun when Mrs. Bennet, flushed with animation and fortified by triumph, leaned slightly across the table toward Mr. Darcy.
“Oh, sir, how very obliging you have been this evening! To stand up with Lizzy – and with Miss Lucas too! I declare, you have quite set the tone of the ball.”
Darcy inclined his head. “I am glad if I have contributed to its success.”
“Success indeed! Why, Charlotte Lucas has not been without partners since. I told Lady Lucas as much – that such notice from a gentleman of consequence is of the greatest advantage. Young ladies cannot command these things, you know.”
Elizabeth, seated opposite, felt the familiar warmth of embarrassment rise to her cheeks.
Mrs. Bennet continued, perfectly undeterred. “And Lizzy – though she pretends indifference – has always done very well for herself. But Miss Lucas! It is quite another matter. Not many gentlemen think of her at first. Still, she is a very good sort of girl. I am sure she is vastly obliged to you.”
There was no malice in it. Only cheerful arithmetic.
Darcy, who might once have stiffened under such frank calculation, merely answered, “Miss Lucas does herself every credit.”
Mrs. Bennet beamed, satisfied both with the compliment and with her own discernment in eliciting it.
