“For a time.” No need to mention that his sister had shut herself in her chambers and refused to speak with him. How had Georgiana grown so…petulant?
“And now?” Miss Bennet’s head was turned slightly so her good eye could examine his expression.
Darcy paused. “She will forgive me.”
Elizabeth’s smile returned. “Then she is a most agreeable sister. Lydia is also at that trying age. She is less forgiving than most, however.”
“Georgiana is…young,” Darcy said. Too young to be giving him so much trouble.
Miss Bennet inclined her head. “That is not a permanent condition. May I recommend introducing her to ladies her own age? It might cure the worst of her rebelliousness.”
Darcy almost smiled. Miss Bennet had much more experience than he had with young girls. Her advice was worth considering.
They continued in silence for a moment. The night air was cool. The tension at the edges of the evening had eased. Darcy found himself less inclined to withdraw, less inclined to judge.
Beside him, Miss Bennet walked with assurance, her steps measured, her attention attuned not only to what she could see, but to what she sensed.
There was a steadiness in her, a composure that did not depend upon ease.
Darcy found it…compelling.
When they returned to the room, the assembly had begun to thin.
Bingley approached at once, his expression still bright. “Darcy—Miss Bennet—there you are.”
Miss Bennet released Darcy’s arm. He felt the loss immediately.
“Thank you,” she said. “Our conversation was enlightening, and I appreciate the company.”
Darcy inclined his head.
The evening drew toward its close. The Netherfield party stood near Mrs. Collins and her family as they, too, gathered their things and readied to board their conveyance. Miss Bingley’s gaze had lingered upon Miss Bennet’s walking stick with poorly concealed curiosity.
Once they were all enclosed and on the way back to Bingley’s leased estate, Miss Bingley spoke.
“I cannot think why such a person would attend a ball,” she said, her tone edged with disdain. “It is quite—uncomfortable.”
Darcy had hardly noticed Miss Bingley over the course of the evening. He had not danced once, even with her. The lady’s remarks about Miss Bennet irked him.
“Miss Bennet is Mrs. Collins’s sister,” Bingley said at once. “She suffered an injury some years ago.”
“Indeed?” Mrs. Hurst asked. “How unfortunate.”
“So, I am told.” Bingley shrugged.
Miss Bingley made a small sound. “It is not suitable. Why torture the rest of the guests with her ghastly face.”
Darcy said nothing. It would do little good to defend Miss Bennet from the harpy sitting across from him. In fact, it would likely make the poor lady a target for Miss Bingley’s vitriol.
He looked out into the darkness. He rather thought Miss Bennet’s attendance was perfectly suitable. And he found, to his own surprise, that he had liked her very much. Darcy had not expected to find anything worthwhile in this part of the country. He was very happy to have been proven wrong.
Chapter Six
The morning after the assembly dawned clear and mild, the sort of autumn day that seemed inclined toward reflection rather than excitement. At Longbourn, however, private reflection was not long permitted when news had been gathered the evening prior.
Elizabeth was already seated in the small morning parlor when the first hints of renewed discussion began to stir through the house. She had chosen her place, as she always did—near enough to the window that the light would fall kindly upon her book, though not so directly as to strain her eye too soon.
She had not read far. Her thoughts wandered too easily, returning without invitation to the events of the previous evening. Not in any dramatic fashion, nor with undue agitation, but with a steady persistence that made the words before her blur into insignificance.
